Page 114 of Knox

“Glo,” Dixie said, touching her foot. “I see the way you look at Tate, and I know…he’s just your bodyguard.” She finger-quoted the words.

“Our bodyguard,” Glo said, a little fire in her words.

“Hardly. Sure, he’d take a bullet for me, but he’d do it walking across fire for you, honey,” Dixie said.

“It doesn’t matter. He can’t…we’re not—”

“Fine. But it doesn’t mean your heart isn’t ready to love again. And…it’s time you sang your song,” Kelsey said.

Glo’s chest rose and fell. She looked at Kelsey, then Dixie. Then, “If I have to bare my soul onstage, then Kelsey does too.”

Huh?

Glo turned to her. “I heard the song you were working on at the Marshalls’. And in your room. I wanna hear it.”

Kelsey froze. Shook her head. “No, it’s not finished. It’s…it’s…”

“About Knox, isn’t it?” Glo said.

Kelsey looked away, at the darkness pressing into the windows, the lights of the Vegas skyline glittering, a kaleidoscope of colors. “It’s about fear and…love. And what-ifs—”

“So, that’s a yes,” Dixie said. “Let’s hear it.” She slid off the sofa and headed over to her violin case, opening it. She grabbed her violin, then Glo’s Dobro and walked over to the sofa.

Glo sat with the instrument pocketed into her lap. Dixie sat down, raised an eyebrow.

“Fine, but…it’s not done. It’s…a mess. I told you that I can’t write a song.”

She reached for her guitar. Took a breath. “It’s a little sappy.”

“Please. It’s a country song,” Dixie said. “It had better be about lost love, or I’m turning in my bow.”

“Fine.” Kelsey had worked out a few chords but let her voice lead the way.

He said hold on to me, and don't let go

Don’t be afraid, don’t say no.

Hold on, lean in

What if I said yes, what if I believed

What if I reached back until I could see

That my tomorrow was with you.

He said don’t cry, honey, you’re safe with me

My love, babe, can set you free

Hold on, lean in

What if I said yes, when he asked to dance

What if I reached out, grabbed hold of his hand

Said my tomorrow was with you.

She let the song die out. “So, I need a chorus and a final verse…”

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