"What're you having?" The bartender, a tall dark-haired gambler-type with a thin mustache, stood waiting for Sue to order.

"Coke." She had wondered which had more food value, a coke or a milk. She couldn't stand milk and maybe the coke would give her more strength. At least she hoped so.

She eased her lithe young body up on the stool and counted out a quarter from the loose change. Before the bartender could reach for it, the picker called out from down the bar, "I got it, mac.”

Sue Belle raised the coke in a mock salute. The picker moved from his end of the bar and swaggered to the stool alongside Sue Belle's. "Mind if I join you?" He didn't wait for an answer. "I sure to hell hate drinking alone, and who'd a thought such a pretty little ol' gal would pop in on me this early in the morning." His voice was deep backwood North Carolina or maybe Eastern Tennessee.

Sue Belle watched him.

"Man, honey, this beer sure do go down fine. I just got in early from a gig in Bowling Green, and I aim to get rip roaring drunk today. Watch out Nashville!" He grinned an infectious grin and Sue Belle felt it getting to her as she watched the picker's reflection in the mirror behind the bar.

Now she turned to him, "Do you pick?”

"Hell yes, honey. Doesn't everybody. I pick a mean guitar and once in a while Bonnie lets me sing one.”

"Bonnie?”

"Yeah, Bonnie Dale. I work with her group.”

"Bonnie Dale!" Sue Belle's heart skipped a beat. "I know most of her songs by heart. Oh!" She was suddenly so excited she thought she was going to fall from the stool. Righting herself, she continued. "She's so sweet and that voice of hers… oh my!”

"Hey, honey, don't you believe it. Bonnie Dale's the hardest woman or person for that matter that I've ever worked for. She's about as sweet as an old diamond-back rattler, and that's putting it mildly.”

"Why, why I simply couldn't believe that.”