“Come on!” someone called from the crowd. “Don’t be shy!”
“I’m not shy,” I shot back. “I’m realistic.”
Mike leaned closer, his breath warm against my ear. “It’s for charity,” he murmured, and I could hear the smile in his voice.
“Traitor,” I muttered, but I was fighting my own smile now.
The crowd started chanting my name, and I realized I wasn’t getting out of this. Dolly was already beckoning me toward the stage, her grin wide enough to split her face in half.
“Fine,” I said, throwing my hands up in defeat. “But don’t blame me when y’all need your ears checked tomorrow.”
The crowd cheered as I made my way to the front, my face burning with embarrassment. Dolly handed me the microphone with a wink.
“What’s it gonna be, sugar?” she asked, gesturing to the song list.
I scanned the options, looking for something I might actually know the words to. Most of it was country, which made sense for this crowd. My eyes landed on one that made me pause.
“That one,” I said, pointing.
Dolly’s eyebrows shot up. “You sure about that, hon?”
“Just play it before I change my mind.”
The opening guitar riff of “Friends in Low Places” filled the air, and I felt some of the tension leave my shoulders. If I was going to make an ass of myself, at least it would be to a song I actually knew.
I started singing, my voice rough but surprisingly steady. The crowd was with me from the first line, some of them singing along. When I got to the chorus, half the tent was belting it out with me.
Looking out at their faces, I saw something I hadn’t expected. Acceptance. Maybe even affection. These weren’t the same people who’d driven me out ten years ago, or maybe they were and time had changed all of us.
My eyes found Mike in the crowd, and the look on his face made my stomach flutter. He was watching me like I’d just performed a miracle instead of stumbling through a Garth Brooks song. The pride and warmth in his expression was almost too much to handle.
When I finished, the applause was thunderous. I handed the microphone back to Dolly as quickly as possible and tried to escape back into the crowd, but people kept stopping me to clap my shoulder or offer compliments.
“That was amazing!” a woman I didn’t recognize gushed. “You’ve got a great voice!”
“Thanks,” I mumbled, still trying to process what had just happened.
Mike appeared beside me again, his hand briefly squeezing my elbow. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”
“Speak for yourself,” I said, but I was smiling. I couldn’t help it. “Come on,” I added, grabbing him by the hand. “Come get a drink with me.”
We slipped away from the crowd, weaving through clusters of people toward the makeshift bar Dolly had set up near the back of one tent. The whole scene felt surreal. There I was, willingly participating in a town event, holding hands with the local pastor where anyone could see. A month ago, I would’ve been horrified. Tonight, I couldn’t bring myself to care.
“Two beers,” I said to the volunteer bartender, a kid who looked barely old enough to drink himself.
“Coming right up, Mr. Callahan,” he said with a grin. “Great song, by the way. My grandma’s gonna be talking about it for weeks.”
I accepted the bottles with a nod, handing one to Mike. We found a quieter spot near the edge of the tent where we could watch the festivities without being in the thick of it.
“So,” Mike said, taking a long pull from his beer. “How does it feel to be Sagebrush’s newest karaoke star?”
“Like I need another drink,” I muttered, but I was still riding the high of it. The way the crowd had sung along, the genuine enthusiasm in their faces… it was nothing like what I’d expected.
Mike’s fingers found mine in the shadows between the tents, intertwining briefly before pulling away. Even that small contact sent heat racing through me.
“I’m proud of you,” he said quietly. “I know that wasn’t easy.”
“It was terrifying,” I admitted. “But also... kind of amazin’? I can’t believe I just said that.”
