Hank took the opportunity to disappear backstage. Dylan turned around toward me and mouthed Sing.
I knew the words like I knew my own name, but it didn’t feel right. My heart hammered double time, but he only nodded.
There wasn’t a chance to think because it was time. The guitar riff ended and someone had to take over. I glanced toward the back stage where Hank had disappeared. He was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he’d be back before the refrain.
I closed my eyes and let the music fill me.
He left me yesterday
In a rush, in a fuss
Only a note that read
Everyday I wait
Everyday I stay
But you don’t come home
Or don’t see me.
Every day
My heart breaks.
Crumbled note in my hand
I found him at the river
My heart stopped as I said
Everyday I wait
Everyday I stay
But you don’t want me home
Or don’t see me there
Every day
My heart breaks.
Somehow I was center stage with no idea how I got there. I was singing, lost in the words, in the feeling, but I wasn’t at my best. Dylan’s guitar solo echoed beside me. He pressed his side against mine and everything clicked.
We held each other
As the rain began
Our tears mixed in
Everyday we waited
Everyday we prayed
For something we didn’t
Know we already had.
Everyday we wanted
Every day we needed
What we already had.
Every day.
Every day.
Every day
Starts all over again.
The song closed on my high note and the lights shut off completely. Dylan stayed beside me as the silence filled the theater. Then the applause started thundering so loud I felt it in my chest. Dylan kissed my cheek.
“They love you. Let’s do ‘Walk Away’,” he said against my ear. “Acoustic.”
“What about Hank?” I asked.
Dylan shrugged and ran backstage. The lights came back up as Dylan and a stagehand brought out two acoustic guitars and two stools. I was supposed to be doing something to distract the audience from the setup, like talk or joke or something.
“Hi, y’all,” I said, not really sure what to say, but I needed to say something. “I’m Cami Ann Harris.” God, why did I use my middle name? I sound twelve. Why do I have an accent? “Can we give Hank some love for letting me showboat a little tonight?”
Dylan raised an eyebrow at me and I smirked. The crowd loved it, but even a rookie could tell they were a little confused. They’d come to see Hank Walker, not some no name kid.
So I lied to get on their side. “Hank’s been a big supporter of mine since I auditioned, and he wanted to give me a chance to sing a couple of songs for y’all.”
Dylan nodded and rolled his hand to keep going as he tuned a guitar.
I had no idea what to say. “How many of you have been to Branson before?” A small splattering of cheers. “How many are here for the first time?” A louder applause. I was losing them. “We’re sure glad to have you here. I’m gonna do one more song then turn it back over to the real reason y’all are here.”
My legs shook as I walked toward Dylan. I settled onto the stool next to him and closed my fingers around the neck of the guitar. I did a double take. It was my guitar. I’d left it at his house while we wrote together. My fingers smoothed down the familiar strings. I could do this.
Dylan nodded a count of three and we began the intro together. I lost myself in the music. We’d made it decidedly more country, more Cam and less Hank. It was a completely different song. I didn’t look out into the audience. I didn’t focus on anything except the words and the heartache of having to walk away. The song was fused with a fear, an emotion, I’d only discovered. I imagined being the one to walk away from Dylan and channeled how that felt inside. It was heart wrenching.
I finished the song a capella.
This time the crowd didn’t wait. They exploded in applause and cheers.
“Cami Ann Harris, everyone,” Dylan said as I stood from the stool.
I bowed. Out of the corner of my eye, Hank strode back on stage with his usual swagger.
“Yes, give it up for our Cami one more time,” Hank said with a rough voice. “Isn’t she one of Branson’s treasures?”
I grinned and bowed again, then rushed back to my spot with Crystal. She reached out and squeezed my arm. The smile on my face stretched wider when Dylan turned around and gave me a thumbs up. My gaze shifted to Hank who just glared.
The moment disappeared. He hated it. I think he actually hated me for doing it. I pressed my lips together as the next song started. The rest of the show went off with rough vocals by Hank but smooth otherwise. Hank’s voice strained. After the set, we shuffled off stage before the first encore.
“You,” Hank growled and jammed his finger into my chest. “You’re fired.”
“For what? Saving your show?” Crystal asked.
“Bailing you out?” Heath added. The rest of the band crowded around me. Heath shook his head. “You gonna fire all of us, Hank? Including Dylan?”
Dylan stood by his father. “Relax, Dad. Let’s get through the encores.”
Hank glared at me. “This is my show, little girl. I knew you were trouble the minute I saw you. First you fuck my son, now you’re trying to steal my show. Back off. I. Will. Ruin. You.”
He stormed onto the stage to the roar of the crowd.
“Don’t worry about it, Cam.” Heath said as he put his hand on my shoulder. “He’s all bark and no bite.”
I glanced at Dylan who met my gaze. His worried
