AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Didn’t know the bride, but I’m sorry I missed the show.”
“If we can manage it, I think we might try to find one more excuse to play before Christmas. We could all use a little extra cash to finish stockin’ up under the tree.”
Mitzi groaned pathetically. “Between finishin’ up my spring line, keepin’ Atticus off his feet, and Christmas shoppin’, it’s going to be a crazy next few weeks.”
“Tis the season,” Nora teased. “I’m puttin’ it out there, you could kill two birds with one stone if one of your new pieces happens to make it underneath my tree. Just sayin’.”
There was a plethora of reasons why Nora was sometimes still pinching herself when she remembered her best friend lived in the same town as her again. Knowing she could get a sneak peek atSterling Thread’syet-to-be-released spring clothing line might not have been at the top of said list, but it was nowhere near the bottom. Knowing she could persuade her oldest friend to personally sew a designer item of clothing to nestle under her tree for the upcoming holiday wasn’t in the top five, either. All jokes aside, knowing Mitzi Bates was the kind of friend whowoulddo such a thingwasone of the reasons Nora loved her so much.
“Mmmhmm,” Mitzi hummed through a burgeoning grin. “Don’t you worry, Nora-Jean. We’ve been together for more thantwo decades, and I’ve never missed a Christmas. I don’t intend to start now.”
“Louder, mommy!” insisted Evie from the backseat, kicking her feet in excitement.
It wasn’t often Nora let herself be bossed around by her four-year-old. While Evelyn was sweet by nature, she had a measure of sass and another of spunk, and Nora-Jean made it a habit of being a realmomwho actually mothered her child. She was going to raise a daughter with manners, morals, and gumption if it was the last thing she did.
But when a good song came on the stereo, andpleasewas forgotten in a request to turn up the volume, Nora didn’t hold it against her. Half the time, she was already reaching for the dial before Evie spoke a word.
They were both singing into their imaginary microphones when they pulled into the Monroe’s driveway. The second verse was only half completed. With the chorus, the bridge, and another round of the chorus to go, Nora shifted into park, unbuckled her seatbelt, and turned in her seat so she was facing Evie. Nora saw Ford approaching the passenger side of her Honda out of the corner of her eye, and her smile grew when he opened the door and dropped into the vacant seat. He didn’t ask any questions. He didn’t have to. Instead, he started grooving to the beat.
“Uh-oh,” he teased, turning to peek back at Evie. “Guitar solo is comin’ up. You got it, girl?”
She giggled, dropped her imaginary mic, and picked up her guitar.
Ford scrunched his face, like she was laying down a sick riff, and Nora grinned. As soon as the solo was over, he closed his eyes, threw his head back, and belted, “But she’s all miiiiiine!”
His smooth, tenor voice filled the cab of the car and for a moment they were all reminded why Nora insisted he sing the harmony to her melody. He was more than just a great banjo player. As he sang to the end of the song with Nora and Evie, he exhibited the reality of the rule that the coolest guys never really cared if they looked cool—they justwere.
At twenty-seven, Ford was the youngest member of the Pick-a-ninnies. He was also the group’s ladies’ man, known for attracting female attention at every show. It was his smile. It got them every time. He was also rough around the edges, always a little scruffy, his fingernails never quite completely rid of grease from his day-job as a mechanic. He spent enough time at the gym to ward off the beer belly he insisted was a hereditary trait his father would pass down someday, but he was far from vein. Ford just liked to have a good time.
“Hey, I was doin’ some searchin’ earlier, and there’s this spot in Murfreesboro that has a couple gig slots comin’ up,” he said as he and Nora climbed out of the car. He looked her way over the top of the sedan as he opened the back door, allowing Evie to jump out.
“Oh, uhm…” Nora mumbled, extracting her guitar case from the backseat. It was no secret to the people who knew her that before Evie, her music career had a different trajectory. Murfreesboro had been her gateway to Nashville, but it had also been where she met Creed. He had given her the world in Evie. He’d also destroyed her in the worst betrayal she’d ever known when he took her songs. Just the thought of returning to that town, even years later, made her stomach turn.
“I don’t know, Ford. I think if we’re gonna set our sights on gettin’ out of town, further north should be our goal.”
“You make a fair point, but—”
“Hey, y’all,” interrupted Taylor as she made her way up the driveway, her fiddle strapped over her shoulder. Three yearsolder than Ford, Taylor might not have been the youngest, but she was certainly the shortest in their pack. Petite yet curvy with her wide set hips, she attracted more male attention than she knew, her obliviousness to her charm something Nora loved about her.
Her dark auburn hair was pulled up into a tight knot at the crown of her head, which was how she usually styled it on days when she was working in the kitchen of Faye’s cake shop—an old staple in Shelbyville’s Town Square. Faye was Taylor’s aunt, and she’d taught her niece all her best secrets. Much as Taylor loved to play fiddle, her dream was to take over Faye’s shop when she was ready to retire her apron. It wasn’t unusual for Taylor to show up with a smudge of flour on her cheek or a bit of batter on her jeans. That afternoon, she had a streak of white in her hair that made Nora curious as to what she’d been baking earlier.
“Everyone recovered after last night?” she asked with a crooked smile.
To Nora’s relief, Taylor’s question distracted Ford long enough for the group to make their way to Tex’s door. When Christine—Tex’s wife of thirty years—answered their knock, they were still reminiscing over the wedding.
“Hi, gang,” she greeted familiarly. “Tex is already out back.”
“Hi, Ms. Christine,” sang Evie.
This earned her a smile meant just for her. “Hi, sweetheart.”
Out backwas where Tex’s work shed was built. Like Nora’s uncle, he’d been in construction for decades. A handy man at heart, he needed someplace to keep all his toys. Fortunately for the group, the shed doubled nicely as a rehearsal space. Besides, it was only right Tex be the one to host practice. The Pick-a-ninnies had been his idea.
Nora had known Tex a long time, even if only from a distance. He worked for her Uncle Wayde. One Saturday, a year or so after Nora found out she was pregnant and her whole lifewas about to change, Darlene and Wayde had hosted a barbeque in their backyard. Nora rarely played her guitar at the time. Life as a single mother to a newborn kept her preoccupied. Though, as she would come to find out, that was mostly just an excuse.
Wayde managed to get her to play a little as that night wore on. It was the first time Tex had ever heard her sing. He thought it outrageous her gorgeous, raspy tone wasn’t being heard by audiences far larger than the one gathered in the Douglas’ yard.
From then on, he wouldn’t stop pestering her about putting herself out there again. He said he knew a mechanic who played a mean banjo, and he’d be willing to dust off his old up-right bass if she agreed to give her music another go. Ford recruited Taylor, who rounded out their crew. By then there was so much enthusiasm amongst the musicians, Nora couldn’t imagine saying no.
