Here's how it goes; Rach left the link to Sugarland's cover of Adalida on my facebook, I couldn't help but get the image of Moss dancing in my head, and, with Rachel's approval/nudge/push, I wrote it. Yes, the original song is by George Strait but Rachel and I are huge Sugarfans so I would urge you to listen to Sugarland's cover while reading this.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything and I do not seek to gain any profit.

Adalida, I'd walk through a hurricane,
To stand beside you, Sweet Adalida,
I'd swim the Pontchartrain...
-Sugarland;

Montana was most definitely her element; honey colored curls bounced against the tops of her shoulders while she stomped her way around the plywood dance floor in cowboy boots that fit her as naturally as her own skin. He leaned against the two-by-four that held up the dance floor tent at the county fair while watching his wife show off the dance skills that usually only made appearances while she washed the dishes or did her make up. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth when she lifted the skirt of her sundress up above her knees to twist her way down to the floor; her eye caught his and he chuckled softly when she winked salaciously at him.

The sight of her in the stark white sundress with his dark blue flannel tied around her chest and sleeves rolled up to her elbows was enough to make him want to drag her behind one of the many barns and have a roll in the hay – but her daddy was watching and, well, it all sounded a bit too country for him. Still, watching her stomp out a complicated line dance that was way beyond his 'electric slide king' skills with ease made his heart beat a little faster.

"Alright," the disc jockey's voice came on the speaker above his head, "it's time for a little two-step – so partner up, y'all."

The song was a familiar one; Adam could remember his mother singing it in the kitchen one hot summer when he was barely old enough to remember and how her soft alto melded with George Strait's in their kitchen. Lindsay made her way across the makeshift dance floor to take his hand and tilt her head to the side, looking up at him with expectant eyes. "I love this song."

"It's a good one," he agreed as he thread their fingers together.

"Think that means I could get a dance with my husband?" She looked up at him through her eyelashes while twisting innocently on the toes of her boots and he was a goner.

"Yeah, I'd love a dance."

It wasn't George Strait's original version of the song – some lady with a twang as smooth as his mother-in-law's homemade ice cream was singing – but the message still resonated and it still bombarded him with beautiful memories. He twirled Lindsay around on his finger before pulling her back to him as they made their way through the crowd of couples on the floor; Lindsay lead without leading him through a dance that took them in a circle around everyone else. He surprised her by spinning her out and then back in so her back was against him and they moved together in a simple twist before returning to the two-step.

"Just to stand beside you, sweet Adalida, I'd swim the Pontchartrain," he sang quietly against her ear as the song ended. She was smiling when she pulled back from his embrace with their hands still laced together.

He winked at her playfully and tweaked her nose before leaning in to lightly kiss her lips. Lindsay held on for a second long that propriety allowed and yanked hard on the collar of his shirt to bring him marginally closer even though they were standing chest to chest. Letting go, Lindsay drew her lower lip between her teeth in a moment of hesitation before nodding her head toward the parking lot and sauntering off before Adam had a chance to catch up.

He shook his head and, as he always did, followed.