Chapter 1

Beth stood before Daryl, her husband now, and her hands only trembled slightly as he approached her slowly, his eyes warm, soft, and so blue she could thought she could see to their depths in the soft glow of the lantern. She had just removed her wedding dress, which was really nothing more than an altered Sunday dress, a smock she'd had to cinch in at the waist but the buttons down the front were mother of pearl and simply lovely.

Mrs. Horvath, Irma, Beth reminded herself, had found it stashed in the back of her closet. It was a simple blue and white gingham smock with delicate eyelet lace. Irma had an extra swath of an astonishingly similar pattern of lace and had made Beth a beautiful make-shift veil that she'd only just removed. Daryl came up behind her where she stood at the dresser and it was hard to believe that they'd stood there a mere two weeks ago as he'd brushed her hair before she pinned it up in borrowed hairpins.

After removing her wedding dress, Beth was left standing in her pale yellow shift, also a cast-off from Irma but it clung to her in all the places that it should and when she looked in the mirror, she no longer saw a girl of nineteen. She saw a woman, hair hanging about her shoulders, curling softly to rest against the gentle swell of her breasts. Breasts that were near to heaving with Daryl right behind her, a ghost of his breath sliding over her neck. This was it. This was the moment they would actually become married.

The vows they'd spoken this morning were enough to say they were man and wife in the eyes of God but in the laws of man, even by the most modern standards, it meant nothing until they consummated their vows.

Beth couldn't wait for this. The anticipation was so great she could scarcely breathe. She turned away from her reflection, to face her husband and their future together, her eyes meeting his and seeing all the promises they had made to one another, stretched out before them.

They may be at a crossroads of their original journey, but this moment, this day was the most important of any. This day they were wed. This day, Elizabeth Anne Greene became Elizabeth Anne Dixon and she just couldn't be any happier.

Earlier that morning….

"Dearly beloved, friends, I stand here today to join together these two lovely people, Elizabeth Greene and Daryl Dixon in holy matrimony." Beth watched the gentle flutter of the bible's onion skin pages that the preacher held between his shaking hands standing before him. She guessed Dale hadn't given Pastor John much warning, springing a surprise (and somewhat secret) wedding upon him at the last minute.

Beth knew all too well the signs of withdrawal from the rye whiskey her daddy used to drink. She recognized the trembling in his hands and she struggled with tears thinking on her Daddy and how he should be here right now, standing behind her, giving his youngest daughter away in marriage.

She looked up at her intended and all that sadness fell away as the preacher continued his words and it was hard to believe that scarcely two weeks ago they'd arrived here in this town. It seemed as though it had been years in some regard, but in others it seemed only yesterday that they'd arrived in the wake of near tragedy when they'd lost nearly everything they owned in a storm.

Mr. Horvath had rousted the preacher from his bed as soon as he'd learned Beth and Daryl's plight. Of course that hadn't happened right away. It was two weeks of what Beth now considered torment before their situation came tumbling out. And that was that they were not really married as stated. Even a week ago though, she would have told anyone that this moment here, ready to marry the love of her life, was impossible.

Because Daryl and his code of honor had nearly done the both of them in. Especially that first morning. Being near this man without being able to touch him had nearly killed her as he'd wanted to protect her honor and refused to touch her before they were wed. Only they had already lied about being married and as each day passed, that lie built and built and snowballed until some days Beth didn't know what was the truth anymore. But it had started almost from the first night…..

Two weeks ago…..

Crazy. The woman was probably going to make him crazy within a few days. He'd thought he had reached his maximum capacity for restraint but when she'd come to bed dressed in nothing but her yellow chemise, the fabric clinging to her curves in all the places it mattered, he felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He'd had to avert his eyes as she climbed into the bed, the strap having slid over one shoulder revealing a generous curve of her breast to his wandering gaze. It had caused an immediate reaction elsewhere in his body.

He'd had no choice with his raging erection, but to turn over and pretend to be too tired to talk. It was certainly easier and less embarrassing than explaining to his betrothed that he had to turn away from her because of how painfully hard he was. Oh how he desperately wanted to bury himself inside what he knew would be the best thing he'd ever felt. But it would be wrong and he knew it. She knew it even if she was being stubborn about it. Damn woman was going to be the death of him yet. He wished he'd never let the old man believe they were married. Why he hadn't figured it out before now he would never know. Then again, they were acting enough like an old bickering married couple.

"Goodnight to you too then." He heard her mutter.

"Sorry, 'm just tired." He mumbled back, feeling instantly like the ass he was. It wasn't entirely a lie even if it did taste sour coming off his tongue. But he felt like shit for being the one to make those exasperated sighs come from her lips as she tossed and turned behind him, running into him with her backside more than once and he had bite back a curse to keep from turning over and finally having his way with her. It's what they both wanted.

He sighed to himself and the breath shuddered back out of him quietly. Yeah, crazy. He would definitely be crazy in the space of several days.

The whole thing came to a head one random Friday morning. After his 12th sleepless night in a row where he'd told Beth, again, in no uncertain terms that they were not going to act as husband and wife in that way until they were properly wed. He would not sully her reputation like that. He may not have been raised like a good Southern gentleman but he was damn sure going to act like one.

"It's stupid at this point Daryl. We are already sleeping in the same bed. We are in the same room. My reputation doesn't mean a damn thing." She said hotly and he looked up sharply as she finished lacing up her boots and stood with her hands on her hips, glaring daggers at him.

The curse sounded foreign on her lips at the same time it did things to his insides, twisting his gut all up something fierce until he was standing right in front of her. "So it's ruined already huh and you're all ready to make it worse. I won't do it to ya Beth. I assume at some point, we'll find your folks and I wanna be able to look your old man in the eye and know that I didn't touch his little girl until we was married up proper."

She sighed. It was getting old. He took a step back and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. It was barely 6:00 a.m. and he was already getting a headache.

"We'll figure something out." He finished and turned away.

He wasn't expecting her to grab his wrist and he veered back around.

"I'm not done talking about this." Her eyes flashed at him again, those pools of blue like steel and flint. This woman was a fire all her own. She wasn't backing down this time. Hellfire and brimstone, he was so tired of this argument.

"Well I am." His voice raised up one octave and her face fired up red. Not in a blush like it normally did but in real anger and he thought maybe for a minute she might actually hate him.

"Why do you get to decide this? Why can't I have a say? You don't get to make the rules Daryl Dixon. You aren't my father, you are my fiancé." She practically spat the last word at him. He looked at her a long moment, trying to decide if he wanted to shake her or kiss her and before he could figure out which it was they heard a soft rap on their bedroom door.

His eyes flew to hers. Guilt flooded through him as their shouts had likely woken the whole inn. Beth let go of his wrist and he walked over to the door and prepared to be scolded properly. It was thoughtless with the way they were shouting this early in the moring and he just hoped whoever was on the other side wasn't too pissed off.

It was Dale and Irma both. Well, then, he guessed that was that, they were both fucked.

He opened the door fully and Beth came up behind him. "We are so sorry if we woke you Irma." Beth appealed to Mrs. Horvath.

Dale spoke up from beside her. "Meet us both in the sitting room. We want to talk to you both. We think we have a solution to your problem."

Daryl opened his mouth to speak. "We don't-" he began. But Dale interrupted.

"It's okay. We aren't upset. Just meet us downstairs once you're ready for the day." Dale insisted and Irma was smiling from beside him and though Daryl didn't feel much like smiling, he returned it nonetheless and shut the door behind them as they took their leave.

He turned to face Beth whose face had gone wide with surprise. "Well, what do you suppose that's about? Did you tell them anything?" She whispered fiercely.

Daryl shook his head as he pulled his boots on. "I suppose it's time for us to go find out what it is they think can be done. Maybe this is better that they know."

"Beth this dress is going to look positively lovely on you when I'm finished with it." Irma declared from beside her. She'd already insisted emphatically that she address her as such. Things were so different out here than they were back home in Atlanta. Though the Greenes hadn't exactly been rich by most standards, they did well enough and as such both Greene girls had been to cotillion and were considered Southern belles.

Maggie had an intended suitor before the war, but word had been sent that he'd died. Maggie had been heartbroken. The war had broken nearly all of them and they were split up now. Beth forced her thoughts to Irma, holding the dress out. It was gorgeous with it's bright blue gingham print.

"It doesn't look like it was ever worn." Beth remarked as she held to her while Irma sifted through drawers and chests, searching for something.

"It wasn't dear. I made it and just never had the chance to wear it out here. Never had an occasion. But we do now." She walked over to Beth and placed her hand on her arm with a gentle smile. "You are going to be a lovely bride."

Irma and Dale had very sweetly suggested a quick morning ceremony on the morrow and Beth and Daryl had quietly agreed. It would just be the four of them and the preacher and possibly his son. They wanted to keep it quiet to avoid any possible scandal. But as Dale had explained very bluntly. "People out here didn't care about high falutin' societal rules."

Daryl had looked at him blankly for a moment until what he'd said registered with him. "Most folks are married by common law out here." Dale continued. "Preachers are mighty hard to find. Hell, our own is near useless."

"Dale Horvath, that is unkind. Pastor John is our friend." Irma had scolded him. He'd looked properly chagrined and Beth wondered if there would come a time that she would chastise her own husband and fought to suppress a smile, realizing they'd already butted heads on more than one occasion. They weren't even married yet and they already had it down. If Irma and Dale could make a marriage work out here in these dark lands, then she and Daryl could too. Even if they didn't know each other all that well, they would get to know one another.

Beth looked at the older woman now. She looked like she wanted to say something. "What is it?" Beth asked softly.

"I was just thinking that this would be what it would have been like had the mister and I have children of our own." Irma said, a wistful faraway look in her eyes.

Beth felt sorry for her, not ever knowing the joy of a child. She tried not to let her mind flit ahead to little ones of her own, but it was hard. It was the day before her wedding after all and everyone knew that babies came after marriage.

Beth thought for a moment and how maybe in some ways this lovely woman and her could fill a surrogate role in the other. "My own mama isn't here today, but I am sure she'd be right proud that you were standing here in her place."

Beth knew she'd said the right thing when the woman turned her kind deep brown eyes on Beth and they filled with tears.

"Well, dear, I believe you are right. She patted Beth's hand. "Forgive me if I am speaking out of turn, Beth, but did your mother tell you of things that are expected of a young bride on her wedding night?" She whispered the last part, as if Beth were being let in on some big conspiratorial secret and she had to admit she did have a certain curiosity but she very likely wouldn't have discussed them with her mother. She flushed as she looked at Irma, a little shy but finally opening her mouth to speak.

"I grew up on a farm, so I know how things work. Just I have one question." She said hesitantly. She was curious and since the older woman had brought it up, she felt comfortable asking. "Does it hurt much?"

"Only the first time. And only a little." She walked over to her dresser and pulled aside a few items and pulled out a bottle.

"I've been saving this for a special occasion." She said holding up the decanter of amber colored liquid. "The mister and I have never been much for spirits and the occasion just hasn't come up, but this would be put to good use. Just have a glass of this when you get to your room. Relax, unwind. You don't have to jump straight into the bed. Just let it happen. It can be a beautiful thing between two people."

Beth took in the woman's words like her mind was a sponge wanting to soak it all up. "Thank you." She said simply. She parted ways with Irma, she had rooms to tend to and the older woman looked like she could use a nap, especially since she and Daryl had roused the both of them from sleep this morning with their what was now deemed to be a silly argument.

By this time tomorrow, she would be Mrs. Daryl Dixon. And tonight, Daryl would have no more excuses and they could finally give in to this unbearable tension between them. She felt exhilarated and flushed as she set about her chores for the day Tomorrow she would wed. Tomorrow she would no longer be Beth Greene, the Southern belle, barely more than a girl. She would be Beth Dixon, the pioneer wife of Daryl Dixon. She was proud and she hoped fervently that one day she could find her family and he could meet them because she just knew they'd love him every bit as much as she did. She hoped his brother would feel the same way about her.

But first things first, she had three rooms to clean and lunch to prepare and it was already going on 10:00 a.m. She had to get a move on. Life didn't stop out here for social gatherings. It was hard and rough and that's how they survived. Still, she couldn't help but hum a tune while she worked and before long she was singing.

The journey out here had taken everything from her. Her family, most of her belongings, her innocence of the world. But it had not stolen her joy because she simply wouldn't let it. She sang the whole morning, her chores flying by in a flurry of activity. She scarcely noticed when it was time to turn in for the night. But once she did, she laid beside Daryl who was already fast asleep, unable to fall asleep herself. He was exhausted after a long day at the lumberyard and he had a long day again tomorrow after their quick ceremony. She fell asleep thinking on what her married life might be like. She hoped it would be like her parents. Like that of Irma and Dale. A lasting sort of love.

Daryl stood in the parlor that the missus had brightened up with flowers from the edge of the woods and around the property early this morning. It was barely on 8 a.m. this Saturday morning Dale waited quietly beside him at first, neither men really saying much.

"Thanks for finding a preacher for us. It means a lot to Beth and me." He wasn't good with words and never had been but he figures the least he can do is express his gratitude.

"It was nothin' son." Dale said with an easy smile and Daryl regarded him for a long minute. Son. That term hadn't ever been uttered in Daryl's presence without a connecting fist or some barb coming from his old man's mouth. "I admire your sense of honor, Daryl. Not many men would have been able to do what you did. You were raised in the south, right? Things out here are different and people don't always abide by those conventions anymore, but you were right to stick by your morals. That's the way it should be."

Daryl felt the tips of his ears flush a bit at the older man's words. "Weren't no honor or the thing to do. Ain't nobody taught me that." Daryl didn't mean it to come out the way it sounded but he could have never expected Dale's response just as the preacher and his son came through the door, the little bell outside the parlor tinkling to warn of visitors at the inn.

"Well, Daryl some men are taught honor and some are born honorable. I don't have to guess which kind you are."

There wasn't time to respond and even if there had been, Daryl doesn't know what he could have said. He thought about it though while he waited for his bride to come downstairs from whatever fuss the missus was making over her. Dale had found some clothing for him and he was donned in probably the nicest garments he'd ever worn. A pair of black breeches with fine kid leather lace up boots, a white shirt with mother of pearl buttons down the front and a black waistcoat that fit him rather well. When he'd looked in the mirror before walking out of the small room Dale and the missus had provided for him to get ready in. It was his wedding day, the missus had insisted and she'd supplied him with a strop razor and bathwater and he figured that he was meant to clean himself up and present himself like a real gentleman.

While he waited, he thought on Dale's words. He didn't know what the true meaning of the word honor was, he didn't think. He had never known honorable men in his life. He knew the man that had just uttered those words to him was honorable. He wouldn't be sleeping under the same room with him relatively unarmed if he thought otherwise.

He thought on when he'd arrived and needed a new wagon for their trip and how this man had trusted him and urged him to go back to Beth and how she could have been in danger. Without a thought he had given him his horses. Daryl could have been anyone but Dale had trusted him.

So had Beth, a little voice inside his head whispered. Little by little the voice of his brother that always seemed to drown out good sense, had been replaced by a different one. Stiller, smaller, more him somehow. And that's the voice that had told him he wasn't touching Beth until they were married. He had more honor for her than that.

The subject of his thoughts came into the room then and he thought he lost his breath. She was the prettiest thing he had ever seen. He knew Beth was pretty. Blonde hair and those bright blue eyes that when she'd set them on him, he became someone else. Somehow he thought he became the man she saw when she looked at him. Something in her eyes. Trust. Devotion. Honor. He swallowed past the lump in his throat, wondering if it was possible the old man was right because if that's what Beth saw, then it must be true.

These are things that are so foreign to Daryl as Beth comes into the room, holding the bouquet of daisies he'd picked for her, her hands resting with her bundle lightly against the backdrop of her dress, he watches her walk to him with quiet purpose. He couldn't tell you what the dress was made of; only that it matched her eyes perfectly and she was gorgeous in it.

"Hi." She said shyly with a smile as she came to stand beside him in front of the preacher.

"Hey, yourself." He couldn't help the wide grin that spread across his face. "You look real pretty, Beth."

She beamed at him and he knew he was right for saying it. He thought maybe he'd tell her that every day just to see her face light up with that smile. "You clean up nice too, Mr. Dixon." She said with a sultry smile and his insides twisted up at her words.

"Let's get married." He said with a grin and held out his hand to her. As she placed her hand into his and the preacher began to speak it hit him with sudden realization that this was really happening. Dixons didn't get happy endings but Daryl was getting one, with the girl he'd saved on the bank of a river.

Every day since, she had been saving him. From this day forward, they would cleave together as one. From this day forward, they would save each other.

Beth felt her heart tripping over itself as she saw Daryl standing there in front of the preacher, face clean-shaven, hair combed, and looking every bit a gentleman coming to call. Except he wasn't coming to call. He was to be her husband.

When she'd dreamed of becoming wed when she was a little girl, she had imagined a thousand scenarios. She had spent countless hours weaving a crown of flowers from the violets that grew in a thick carpet in the meadow behind the house on the plantation dreaming about the faceless man she would someday marry. Somehow in all the stories she'd created in her head in all their elaborately remote details, she couldn't think of anything more romantic than the scene right in front of her. Her betrothed standing beside the preacher, her walking into the parlor holding the bright yellow daisy bouquet that he had picked for her himself was better than anything she could have dreamed up.

When she'd first opened her eyes looking up into his ruggedly handsome face, bedraggled and worn from her jaunt down the river, she had never imagined that it would lead to this moment, her heart thrumming in her chest and tripping over itself in anticipation. She loved him so much that sometimes it felt as if her heart actually stopped beating for a moment just to catch up to itself, steadying out the beats until she could breathe once more.

She felt thus as the preacher continued his words and she committed them all to memory even as she repeated her vows.

"I, Beth, take thee Daryl, to be my lawfully wedded husband."

She would take him. She would take him and hold him and cherish him and do all those things.

"I promise to love, honor and keep you, forsaking all others for long as we both shall live."

Though she knew that this was only a stopping place, this was where it all began, this moment. And if things were different she knew they could stay here in Pine Lake. They could live here the rest of their lives. Together.

Beth looked at Daryl as she spoke the words to him and she knew she'd never seen this look on his face before. This unabashed adoration and trust and his voice shook as he repeated the same words back to her.

"I promise to love, honor and keep you, forsaking all others for as long as we both shall live." His voice was gruff and awash in unshed tears and it evoked a response in her so deeply powerful that she felt she could weep herself into an eternal see of longing and throw her head back and laugh at the sky at the same time.

"I now pronounce you man and wife." A smile crept its way onto Daryl's face and reached all the way to his eyes as he just stared at her.

"You can kiss your bride Daryl." Dale's voice came from directly behind them and Beth couldn't suppress that laughter one moment longer. It bubbled up out of her just as Daryl took her in her arms and kissed her just like every blushing bride should be. A kiss she felt all the way to her toes.

After the ceremony, the preacher and his son stayed for a quick breakfast of eggs and coffee. Daryl had to get to the lumber yard before long. Everyone had jobs to do, she supposed.

A few minutes after breakfast Beth walked Daryl out to the portico on the front of the inn. She suddenly felt shy around him all the sudden and if anything, he had just caught his stride. He pulled on her hand and tugged her into his embrace. Her arms came easily around his middle and her fingers played at the red work shirt he'd donned for the day, wondering what it might be like to finally unfasten his buttons and slide her hands over his skin. She looked up into his face and he smiled down easily at her.

"You're looking pretty pleased with yourself." She remarked good naturedly as he reached up and brushed a wisp of hair out of her eyes.

He just shook his head. "Just happy is all." Her heart soared at his words.

"Me too, Daryl."

He bent his head to hers and sealed his lips over hers in a soft kiss full of promise. Of things to come.

She sighed as he stepped away and his steps were nearly in a saunter as he backed his way off the portico and tipped his hat at her and took his leave.

As Beth went back inside, she thought on all the things tonight would bring with a well of longing. With a skip in her step, she went back inside and started the day's chores. It was going to be a long day waiting for the coming night.

Daryl walked to the lumber yard with a lightness in his footing that he hadn't felt in-. He nearly stopped short at the realization that he had never felt this way before. All his life, going from one place to another, every road he'd walked, he'd felt the weight of his past and who he was on his back.

He'd borne the scars of his childhood for so long that it had long since gone more than skin deep, seeping into his very marrow, weighting him down and making every step he took cumbersome.

And then he'd met Beth. His wife, he reminded himself. He couldn't help but smile as he remembered the surprised little gasp as he'd pulled her into his arms on the porch and kissed her in front of God and everyone.

"Daryl, someone will see." She'd protested and her face had flushed bright crimson. She was about the prettiest thing he'd ever seen as he'd pulled away, her lips shiny with his spit and her eyes heavy with want.

"Don't matter. We're married, remember?"

She'd laughed lightly at him and shook her head as he walked away and as he did, he couldn't help the sense of pride that washed over him in knowing that this time tonight, she would be well and truly his. For the taking. And by the look in her eyes, she was ready for it.

Beth stood there staring at her husband as his broad and muscled shoulders flexed as his sturdy arms and hands wielded the ax held firmly in his grip. His bronzed skin glistened in the midday sun where he was working at the edge of the forest.

For all the threat of winter before, there didn't seem to be any signs of it today. The late autumn day was unseasonably warm and she knew his job chopping and shaping the ties for the railroad was hard, back-breaking work but oh my, she didn't know that it would make his arms look quite like that. She wondered how it might feel with his bare arms wrapped around her bare body. A flush broke out over her entire body as heat worked its way from the pit of her core outward until she thought she might ignite in flames. She averted her gaze for a moment, embarrassed that looking upon his form could stir such thoughts, then realized, it was completely allowed. He was her husband now, after all.

Still, it probably wasn't proper to be ogling one's husband in public, even if he was hers in every sense of the word. Her pulse fluttered wildly in her throat for a moment and she took a deep breath to steady her nerves. This was Daryl, she thought, stop being so ridiculous.

She approached slowly and kept her gaze on her Daryl's back and not on the dozen or so men who turned to look at her as she walked across the wide expanse of yard at the edge of the forest on the parcel of land that had been selected to harvest the trees for the miles and miles of railroad ties needed for the Pacific Railway.

She could feel all those eyes on her as she approached him, his lunch packed carefully in the basket she carried. But she paid no attention to any of them. She only had eyes for those of her husband who turned as he realized all the activity around him in the lumber yard had suddenly stopped. His eyes rested on hers and though it had only been mere hours since he had left her just after they'd spoken their vows and been pronounced husband and wife, it felt like it had been much longer.

His eyes traveled over the length of her as she reached his side and he hopped down from the stump he was standing on and tossed his sawing tool to the side. If he was bothered by the fact that he was standing in front of her bare-chested to her open gaze, it certainly didn't show.

No, she thought, if anything, the corners of his mouth were turned up with a bit of mirth at seeing her flush so mightily as she struggled to keep her eyes to his face and tried not to let her gaze stray to where it seemed to drawn, to his broad and muscled shoulders or lower to his chest. She took another deep breath and drew her eyes upward.

Instead she concentrated on the bead of sweat dripping down his forehead as he reached up and wiped his red rag across it. Beth made a mental note to find some more cloth to cut up for him to repurpose out here. Even in the cold, he was bound to work up a sweat. It was odd thinking how all that moisture on his body made her mouth go absolutely dry. She fought to control her breathing as she looked up at him.

His grin broadened and he leaned down and gave her a quick peck on the lips. "Hi there, Mrs. Dixon." Her drawled. His voice was so gruff that, heavens, her heart flipped over in her chest five times when he said those words. There was something so possessive in his tone and she kind of thought she liked it. This being married thing was sure getting interesting, she thought.

"Hi yourself, Mr. Dixon." She smiled at him.

She thought her face must be the shade of his rag when he pulled back. She could feel all the other men's eyes on them and she cleared her throat and gestured with a roll of her eyes in the direction of all the attention completely on them at the current moment.

"What's a matter, you never seen a man's wife bring his lunch before?" Daryl bellowed and Beth could see that the men respected him already as they all scrambled to get back to work. She had to admit her husband commanded a certain presence about him. Though she had never been afraid of him, she had been wary of him when they'd first met. Of course now, she knew that he was all softness underneath that rough and dusty exterior.

"Daryl." She said softly with a small grin. She didn't know how to convey the fact that their love life was suddenly the main attraction of everyone in town.

"Not one as pretty as yours boss." A man in a black cowboy hat said from across the way and a couple of the others whistled low.

Daryl glared at them hotly and Beth reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling on it. "Come on, let's go have a picnic real quick."

He looked back at his crew who had all conveniently looked away. Beth fought the urge to chuckle at his sour expression when he turned back around. "Surely you aren't jealous of those men." She whispered as they sat on one of the long logs that looked freshly split. It was so large that Beth's feet dangled off the ground slightly as she sat beside him.

He looked at her, properly chagrined and shrugged his shoulders, mumbling. "Mmmhmmm?"

She nudged him gently with her shoulder and then impulsively pressed a quick chaste kiss to his cheek. "Well you shouldn't. They may get to look but only you get to touch." Her breath left her body with her last word. She hadn't meant it to sound so downright wanton, but it came out that way and as Daryl sputtered on the drink of water he'd just taken out of the wineskin she'd brought with her, her face fired up in a blush and she wondered how long they'd be married before she would stop feeling like this around him. She thought she sort of secretly hoped she'd always feel this giddy, lovestruck feeling like she was tumbling down a long hill, fast and free. She laughed softly as his eyes met hers and she smiled shyly. "It's true." She shrugged.

He looked at her for a long minute and finished eating the sandwich she'd brought him, two pieces of ham between thick slices of bread. He swiped the back of his hand over his mouth and she thought she saw the telltale sign of a grin behind his hand. Her heart fluttered something awful because she knew he was thinking about the evening ahead and how he indeed would get to touch her.

He glanced in her direction and she made a mental note to cut his hair soon. The more she could see his eyes the better. She thought maybe it would best if she could know when those smoldering looks were sent her way, as far in advance as possible.

A short time later, Beth was walking away and the only gaze she could feel on her backside as she headed back in the direction of the inn was her husband's and she wondered how in the world she was ever going to wait until tonight. Her wedding night.

Daryl approached her at the dresser where she was taking down her hair. The golden waves were cascading down her shoulders, the curve of them so small and slight in whatever slip of nothing yellow fabric she had left on. He had watched out of the corner of his eye as she'd taken her dress off. It was sort of unspoken between them, undressing as they would for bed any other night, though they both knew that it wasn't. It wasn't just any other night. This was their wedding night and though he knew what to do, he knew what was supposed to happen; he also sort of didn't. Because he had been with women before. But not like this. And not with women like Beth.

He'd certainly never expected to be someone's husband. After seeing what marriage was from the eyes of a child he was fairly certain he wanted no part of that.

It was palpable, the tension in the room, as he was directly behind her and she smelled like absolute heaven on earth and thought it might be some of that lilac soap he'd found in the general store on his way back from the yard last week. He wanted to bury his nose in the curve of her neck and she was his wife and so he did. He let her feel his breath on her skin and he thought he might have heard a small gasp as she brought her hands up to his head, her small fingers curling through his hair as she held her fast to him as if to hold his lips to her skin.

He brought his head up and his eyes met hers in the mirror then and he barely recognized this woman before him now. His wife. His beautiful wife. He could scarcely believe he was being permitted to put his hands upon such exquisite beauty.

He reached down and untied the drawstring on his breeches and let them fall to the floor, leaving him bare. She watched as he did so, the weight of her stare pulling her eyes into a wanton slant. His erection stood proud between them and he had to physically press his feet to the floor to keep from surging his hips forward into her backside; the urge to do so was just that powerful.

With one glance at his gaze in the mirror, she turned in his arms and lifted her own and he knew then that she meant him to remove this last barrier of clothing between them. He reached down and gripped the hem of the delicate fabric in his hands pulling upward, and everything slowed to an absolute crawl, all the breath leaving his body as he cast it aside. The yellow gauzy material fell to the floor, lying a pool of moonlight. A goddess moon to be sure, he thought. His goddess stood before him, ready to be worshipped; glorious, naked and beautiful. His Beth. His beloved wife.

Daryl Dixon was now a married man.

Here it is! The long awaited (far too long and I am deeply sorry for that) sequel to Trail of Memories, my Bethyl Western AU, now an official series. This installment, "Crossroads Promises" is part 2 of the planned three fic series. The next chapter will be their wedding night and as you might imagine, it takes some time to put that together in readable fashion. This chapter was sort of meant to be a reimagining of the Outlander Wedding where it's told in vignette fashion. I hope that you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. xoxoxo