u/Appalachianghostgirl

A dark-haired girl walked over to our table, “Y’all’s usual?” she asked with a sweet smile.
She looked to be about my age, mid to early twenties, though she might have been older or younger; she had an almost ageless face. There was a splattering of freckles along her nose and cheeks, it reminded me of the brown seeds across the rosy pink of a strawberry. Sparkling brown eyes that seemed almost too big for her face, took in every detail of the table and the room it seemed. Her wavy hair fell around her face and shoulders, making her look like a painting in a heavy wooden frame.
She wore a dark blue tank top with the words Billy’s Bar in bold white letters across the chest. A simple gold chain hung around her neck, a horseshoe pendant dangling from it.  On one wrist she wore a large leather bracelet, it seemed too big for her, like it had once belonged to a man. On the other wrist, she wore two colorful string bracelets and one silver chain with small turquoise charms. 
There was a subtle sadness about her, despite the smiling, bubbly exterior. Maybe that was only me projecting, she seemed happy enough, smiling and chatting with the men. 
“Harley,” Tex said, jarring me from my analysis, “This is Lucy, Billy’s daughter. Lucy, this is Harley, our new hand.”
She stuck her hand out, the one with the leather bracelet, “Pleasure to meet you, you can call me Lucille or Lucy, whichever you prefer.”
I shook the offered hand, “It’s nice to meet you too,” I said, putting my hand back in my lap under the table.
“Just the usual, “ Mason said, “Plus one,” he winked at me when he said it, earning himself an elbow to the ribs from Johnny.
Lucy smiled at us and walked off towards the bar. It was a nice little place, with a bar top against the far wall, worn leather and wood booths against two walls, a few tables closer to the bar, and a dance floor that seemed to be crawling with cowboys. It was like so many small-town bars, dark and dusty. The smell of years of leather and alcohol mixed with the new smells of dirt and hard work made a comforting thing I wanted to wrap myself in like a blanket.
We were sitting in the corner booth furthest from the front door. Eight of us smashed together while the other two found some chairs to sit on at the end. Colt told me the Weltch Ranch boys had been sitting in the same booth since the bar opened. I thought I could get used to this, sitting in this booth with these men, having a “usual” that Lucy brings us without really asking. I could get used to the structure of working all day and coming here to relax.