“I thought we could sing ‘Wild Horses.’”
“Oh God,” she says, fanning her face. “You’re going to make me cry again.”
I chose “Wild Horses” because it reminds me of my youth and of Shiloh, who walked down the ‘aisle’ to this song when she married Brody years after they fell in love.
Their wedding was down by the lake on the ranch—a small, private affair for just family and a handful of friends. I was invited as Noah’s guest. We were only young, but I remember thinking how beautiful Brody and Shiloh’s love was. So simple and pure. And I remember thinking that someday I wanted aman to look at me with as much adoration in his eyes as Brody looked at Shiloh.
Not just any man. Noah.
I smile. “Tears are good. They cleanse the soul.”
I’m quoting her. She used to tell me that when I was young.
“Let’s do this.” She looks over at Liam when he offers up his guitar. Which is a big deal. Liam doesn’t hand over his guitar to anyone. “Are you sure?” she asks.
“It would be an honor,” Liam says. “Big fan.Huge.”
Shiloh smiles. “Thank you.”
She shoulders Liam’s guitar, plays the opening chords and without a moment’s hesitation, launches right into the song.
It doesn’t matter how long it’s been since Shiloh’s last tour. She’s at home on the stage.
Shiloh has an incredible voice, and time hasn’t changed that. She’s a pure contralto, the rarest female voice type, perfect for bluesy rock and soul.
I’m tempted to stop singing so I can stand back and listen, but I don’t want to let her down.
It’s the first time we’ve ever performed together in public, but not the first time we sang this song together, so I do my part.
And I fulfill a childhood dream I’d forgotten somewhere along the way—to stand under the spotlights and sing with Shiloh Leroux.
When the last note rings out, Shiloh passes the guitar to Liam and pulls me into another hug. “You amaze me,” she says, pulling back to look at me. Her soft smile and her words make my chest feel tight with all these emotions swirling inside me.
I return her smile and it’s genuine because for the first time in years, I feel like there’s hope for us.
It feels good, and it feels right.
Our relationship isn’t perfect. I know it’s still cracked and broken, held together with duct tape and good intentions, and I know that one song won’t magically make it all better.
We can’t go back to the way it was before my parents died. Our relationship has changed too much over the years. The bond was broken, ripped to shreds, when the truth was revealed.
I’ll never think of Shiloh as my mother, and I know she’d never expect me to. But Shiloh is still my family. Just like Dean is. Just like the McCallisters.
They’re my found family. And they’ve proven over the years that even if I push them away or try to distance myself, they’ll still be there when I need them.
It’s a beautiful and rare thing to be welcomed into a family that loves so hard and never gives up on you.
So I’m trying. And sometimes that’s all you can do. Open your heart to let the light shine through the cracks and release some of the heartache weighing you down.
When I walk off the stage, Noah turns off his video camera and my heart swells. I’m so happy that he’s captured all those beautiful moments with Shiloh. The song. Our hug. The two of us on a stage together for the first time.
I run straight into his arms, and he catches me like he always does.
I’m the luckiest girl in the world to have him by my side.
“You were wrong about something,” he says.
I’ve been wrong about many things, but I’m curious to hear what he thinks I’m wrong about. “Oh yeah?” I smile at him. “What’s that?”