This was the last track that would complete Ivy’s first independent record. We’d enjoyed every moment of writing, recording, finding meaning in our simple songs. Working together with Wes was the highlight of my career so far.
Before we got started, I studied Jack Wilder. I’d met him before and seen him perform a few times, but I didn’t know him well. He was broad through the shoulders, with a lean muscled build. Dark hair curled slightly at his collar. And the man had a jaw that could carve an Angus steak, softened only by the short dark beard.
He’d arrived that morning, and I understood quickly that he was a man of few words. Not shy, but thoughtful. The moment his dark eyes had caught sight of Ivy, he’d hardly taken his gaze elsewhere.
Now, Jack leaned into the first verse, an aching rasp in his voice that seared right through a man’s soul, his hand moving across the Martin strings.My mama said I was born with a restless soul / Always on the move, looking for more than rain on a tin roof …
I picked out the melody line on Georgia, finding the spaces between his rhythm, bending notes into the places his voice left open. Ivy came in for the second verse, her guitar soft beneath her voice.My daddy said Tennessee’s your heart / Little girl, no matter how far you go / The whispering pines still call your name …
She gazed at Jack as she sang, an expression of complete adoration on her pretty face. I’d never seen her look at anyone that way. Not in all the years I’d known her. For his part, Jack gazed right back, strumming his guitar, as if he had no intention of ever taking his eye off her.
I knew right then and there. This was the man Ivy had been waiting to find. I could see their love story unfolding as clearly as the notes I plucked on my guitar.
I glanced at Wes. A small smile played at the corner of his mouth. Margaret winked at me. They saw it too.
Jack and Ivy traded verses, their voices weaving together and apart, telling the same story from different angles. Two people who’d spent their whole lives searching for something they thought only music could give them.
Then the bridge came, and they sang together for the first time.
We’d almost stopped believing / That the road would lead us right / Almost made our peace / With a beautiful but lonely life …
The harmony was honey stirred into a glass of whiskey. Their pairing seemed so natural it seemed as if they’d been singing together for years instead of hours. Jack stepped closer to his microphone, his eyes locked with hers.
I looked over at Seraphina. She smiled, nodding.
The chorus swelled.But the moment I saw you / I saw everything / All the torn pieces of my heart / Stitched into a patchwork quilt like my mama made / The only warmth I’d ever need …
Ivy’s voice broke slightly on the wordwarmth. Pure beauty that comes from raw emotional imperfection.
Jack’s hand moved, almost reaching for her, as if to comfort her, but then seemed to remember where they were, and pulledhis hand back to his side. I knew the feeling of being so lost in another that reality slipped away.
The outro came soft and steady, both voices intertwined.No more restless soul / No more searching for more / Just you and the rain on the tin roof / And those whispering songs of the pines / To tell me I’m finally home …
The last note faded. We were quiet, collectively moved into the silence that comes after witnessing something profoundly moving.
Wes’s voice came through the talkback. “That’s the one. We can’t do better.”
Ivy pulled off her headphones, wiping her eyes. “That song wrecks me.”
“It’s special,” Jack said, looking at Ivy with an expression of wonder and admiration. “Like you, Miss James.”
“Right back at you,” Ivy said.
“It’s wild how closely you captured my life,” Jack said. “Like you wrote it for me.”
“We kind of did.” Ivy flushed, ducking her chin, but looking over at him with her big blue eyes. “I knew enough about your early life to put it into the song.”
Jack’s expression turned incredulous. “But why?”
“I really wanted to sing with you,” Ivy said.
“I would have sung the ABCs with you if you’d asked,” Jack said.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Ivy said.
Tyler appeared at my elbow, grinning. “That was the coolest thing I’ve ever watched. You don’t have to do it a second time?”
“We got it in one take,” Wes said, coming out of the control room. “That almost never happens. But when the chemistry’s right, it’s right.” He glanced at Ivy and Jack, who were now discussing something none of us could hear, standing closer than they needed to.
