AN: I'm from the sort of place Daisy's are raised. I've seen this tale play out a few to many times. .

Sounds a little tough huh? I'm glad I'm a bit more city then some of these gals.

She wasn't the girl you would see walking down the city-street. She was the girl who you caught sitting on the fence edge, bottle in hand and watching a boy ride the bull her daddy bought.

She didn't drink martinis and delicate shots of bright colored drinks. She put back vodka and whiskey, knocking'em back with the best of them. She drank from the bottle if she could. Sometimes a margarita in a plastic cup was acceptable, only if she was in a sweet mood.

She won't drive anything but her pick up. Peppered yellow with paintball stains left by her brother. The back seat is rotted and it's a bucket seat. There's the family name branded into the leather of the driver's seat and a series of names carved into the passenger seat head rest. Only she knows what the names are from (they're the list of boys she kissed in that seat).

At five she told her daddy she wanted to do some mutton bustin' at the next rodeo, she fell and broke her arm. Her mother said no more of that. She started doing barrels instead, she went through two horses and finally settled on Rascal.

When she was fifteen her daddy told her he wasn't gonna live to see her graduate high school.

She's got a Texan drawl picked up from her ten years in the dust of the lone star state. Occasionally you hear a tinge of the Georgian accent her mother's got.

She'll never say she's Red Neck, she'll never say she's a hick. She'll never say she's one of the Carhart Clan. But she's pretty damned country.

Her horse is named Rascal after her favorite band. She has a two rabbits named Brook and another named Dunn. Her dog is named Trace.

When she was sixteen she wore a black dress and put her hair up under her daddy's favorite hat and stood next to his grave, crying on her brothers shoulders.

She learned the two-step from her middle brother and line dancing from her biggest brother. The youngest of the three boys taught her how to get a man to do the dances with.

They lost the ranch to foreclosure. They lost the house to a fire.

At seventeen her brothers were all in the real world, Joey was in the Air Force, Jamie was at some college, Ollie was taking bullets in the fire deserts of Iraq.

At seventeen it was her and her mother, living in a small trailer they bought with the money they got from selling Rascal.

At nineteen that list of names on the headrest ended, she wed the father of her baby boy. The daddy was Johnny. The boy was Liam. She wore cowboy boots under her dress.

Johnny joined the Marines. The checks came in the mail but little Liam didn't have dad. She cried everytime Liam would ask to see a picture of his 'daddy'.

She took to the bottle, putting back a little more whiskey every time Jack Daniels came to visit, she was only twenty-three.

They moved to Texas again, her and Johnny and Liam. She was with her Marine husband for good this time.

She danced the two-step with her best friends husband at their wedding. She danced with Henry at her brothers wedding. She danced with Jason at Ollies wedding.

"Sissy, you gotta cut back on that stuff" Jamie told her one night they were sitting at his house. Little Liam and his little Rebecca were playing in the back yard.

"Daisy, seriously. You drink way too much." Joey said one Christmas night. "Please cut back."

She put back her first full bottle in a single night when she found Johnny cuddling up to Lizzie in their bed. She stood in the kitchen and drank. She put back a second bottle when she caught them fucking in the bathroom.

She buried her youngest brother from war-wounds.

Johnny left her two months later for Lizzie. If the problem was bad before it got worse.

She dated Leo from NASCAR. She slept with Matthew from the liquor store. The list of names etched in her head rest started to grow again.

Daisy and Liam met with her brothers for Liam's fourteenth birthday. She taught her son how to two step that night. She taught her niece how to get boys to dance with her. She didn't drink that night.

She caught her son with a girl, a pretty thing, in her old pickup truck, he was sixteen. Two days later she gave him the keys for good. She threw away the last bottle of Jack she kept in the cupboard.

She bought a new horse with some saved cash, she kept it on Joey's Ranch. She named him Flats. She won the local rodeo.

At thirty-six she met her third high school beau, Wesley. At thirty-eight they got married and she finally had a daughter, fourteen year old Mimi.

Her life wound down living on a small farm land in the Texan desert. Her and Wes, they grew old and older together. Liam went on and got married a few years down the road, some girl named Sadie. They had twin girls, Lavender and Rosie.

When she passed, she kept her grave near the family plot. Buried at the feet of her daddy and mommy. Next to the war-dead Ollie and cancer-passed Joey.