Pink lip gloss to match.
So bars weren’t her thing.
But making her sister happy was, so she was giggling right along with her when they rushed out of the house to their daddy shoutin’, “You two look too pretty for your own good. Be careful. Call me if you need a ride. Or if one of those cowboys gets too friendly. Better yet, I will chaperone. You know I am the best dancer in town. I will come with you,” he called out as he fumbled toward the door behind them.
Lily giggled as she clung to Violet’s arm and dragged her down the porch steps. “Not tonight, Daddy. We’ll be good. I promise.”
They were both laughing at their poor worried father as they ran for Lily’s car, and Violet realized she was more excited than she’d thought she should be by the time they hit the road and headed for town.
Anticipation rippled through her bloodstream.
She felt it stronger by the time her sister pulled into the big dirt lot in front of the massive saloon known for the best dancing in town. Violet had only been once or twice, but she’d never been when there’d been a live band.
She could feel the energy of it when she stepped out of the car, feeling anxious and excited and alive as they headed for the double doors with their elbows linked together, laughing as they went.
They showed their IDs to the bouncer and paid the cover, and they stepped into the dimly lit bar that was packed wall to wall. The level of voices and music deafening.
A thunder that thudded to an upbeat country song that was being played over the speakers.
They started to weave through the crush, making their way to the large bar in the middle. They ordered margaritas, and when the bartender slid them across to them, they clinked their glasses together.
“To you being thankful I dragged you out of bed on a Friday night,” Lily shouted over the din with a smirk painted over her red lips.
“To maybe having a fun night with my big sister,” Violet teased.
Lily grinned. “What are you talking about? Any night spent with me is the best night.”
Violet shook her head with a laugh, and she let her attention wander over the packs of people gathered around the high-top tables, drinking and letting go of the cares of the day. Her attention drifted to the long line of pool tables on the far side, all the way to the lights flashing around the mechanical bull at the very back.
It was a madhouse.
Freedom flying.
Laughter soaring.
But what really captured her attention was the elevated stage set up to the far right of the cavernous space, a big dance floor surrounded by regular height tables on all sides of it.
Liliana nudged her on the shoulder. “Told you it was gonna be fun. Now come on, Alyssa and Brie have a table up close.”
They started in that direction when a squeal of feedback cut through the clamor, and the DJ boomed over the speaker, “Are you ready for this? It’s time to put your hands together and get your booty on the dance floor…welcome with me, the ones you’ve been waiting for—Carolina George!”
The lights flashed to darkness before they came back on to reveal four people climbing the side steps onto the elevated stage.
People shouted. Cheered. Vied to get closer.
Violet’s heart skipped in this crazy twist of excitement.
She had the urge to do the same.
To push up onto her toes so she could get a better look.
Lily took her by the hand and led her through the throng. Violet was unable to see over the heads as a sweet voice came through the mic, “Hello, Dalton! It’s an honor to be back playin’ in our hometown for a very special show. We are Carolina George. Who’s ready for a little fun tonight?”
More shouts and cheers and stomps of feet, and drumsticks were counting off a beat before the heavy rhythm of an electric guitar came to life like a sizzle through the air.
A shockwave of intensity.
The woman began to sing.
Violet’s spirit lurched, struck by the beauty of what she was hearing.
Unexpected.
Mesmerizing.
Hypnotic.
When she’d heard a local band was playin’, she sure hadn’t anticipated this.
She and her sister finally broke through to the far side of the dance floor where Lily’s friends had a table that had a direct view of the stage.
Violet stumbled in her tracks, coming to a full stop like she’d run face-first into a brick wall.
Gobsmacked.
Her daddy had always taught her to look for the beauty in all things. It was what had sparked her love of growing. Of seeing a seed blooming and unfurling to its full, glorious potential.
But she was sure she hadn’t seen anything quite as beautiful as the man standing on the stage with a guitar strapped over his shoulder, and she knew it for certain when he stepped up to his mic and began to sing along to the chorus.