Here is my first Daryl/OFC AU. Carylers, please don't hate me! I firmly believe Carol is the only one for Daryl. But the thought of plunking Daryl down in the middle of my grandfather's farm (We're one hour from Senoia) with a younger, slimmer, single version of myself was too good to let go. (Blame SOA lovin mom for making me brave) This fic will update fairly quickly and won't affect my others, (I'm already 10 chapters into this one)
The smell and heat of the lunch they were cooking made the air in the kitchen even more heavy and oppressive. She really should have been used to it by now, she had been helping Mamaw cook in here since she was old enough to stand in a chair at the counter and roll out biscuits. But here she stood, stirring the huge pot of greens while sweat ran down her back and pooled in rather unpleasant places, dishrag in her free hand to mop her face.
"Amber! Don't let the okra scorch!" Mamaw called from the pantry where she had gone to find a jar of last years peaches for a cobbler.
"I ain't Mamaw! Good-NESS! You act like I ain't never cooked before!"
"I know," admitted her grandmother as she stepped into the kitchen with two quart jars of fruit, "that's just the last of what we put up last year. Burn it and your Papaw'll pitch a fit."
Amber rolled her eyes at the thought of her grandfather pitching any kind of fit. He was the quietest person she knew, preferring hard work his whole life over talk. The worst he would do would be only eat two helpings instead of three.
The back door creaked on it's hinges and then slammed. Without looking up Amber yelled "Not done yet!"
She jumped when a familiar voice yelled back from across the bar "I know!"
"Mama! Aren't you supposed to be at work?"
"Got off early, stayed late to put up stock yesterday." Debra explained and then addressed the older woman at the sink.
"Who's that up under that old truck with Daddy?"
"New hand, he's going to be working over the summer. Some young boy."
Huh, Amber thought, as she moved heavy pots and pans off the stove and onto hot pads on the bar. That's not very descriptive. She knew any man under the age of fifty would be young to her Mamaw.
"Why don't you take'm some drinks Amber? It's awful hot."
"I'm cookin'. Mama, can you?"
"No, you can," a still spry Roxie Dover said as she shooed her granddaughter from the stove. "I need to talk to your Mama."
"Fine," Amber huffed, grabbing two of the green plastic snuff glasses they used for everyday out of the cabinet. "I know Papaw'll want ice water. But what about the other guy? Water? Tea? Coke?"
"Tea probably and his name's Daryl."
A few moments later she was headed out the back porch door, the creak and slam the same as it was moments before and for decades before that. Only when she hit the gravel drive that separated the house from the shop did she remember that she had forgotten shoes.
"Oh, well," she murmured,"ain't like I haven't walked down here barefoot before."
The old blue pick up sat in the left bay of the shop with two sets of similarly dressed legs sticking out from under it. Amber stopped between the two and then tapped on the fender with the ball of her foot.
"Y'all thirsty?"
She heard her grandfather grunt and then the heavier set of legs flexed as he pulled himself out from under the truck on the rollers. Amber smiled to herself as he emerged. The old man was never going to change. It was ninety degrees and he still wore a set of navy blue heavy work pants and long sleeved matching shirt. His dark blonde hair had become almost totally white since she was a child and his face was deeply lined now, but he was still the strong man who had taught her so much.
He took the ice water from her and popped his fist against the car once.
"C'mon, boy. Gotta take a break." His voice was quiet but commanding as always.
Amber saw a wrench clatter to the ground at the side of the truck and the other man pulled himself out in one smooth motion.
She nearly dumped every bit of that sweet tea and ice in his lap.
Arms. Oh my God, ARMS!
The man was no where near what her Papaw usually hired as help. Most times it was older men, late forties or fifties, who had more tattoos than teeth but behaved there self well enough and could rip apart an engine with their eyes closed.
This Daryl was dirty but that is where the resemblance stopped. This man was younger, probably mid thirties. He wore the same work clothes as her Papaw but the pants were ripped over one knee and the sleeves had been roughly cut out of the shirt. His arms and wide shoulders were sculpted, not the vain muscles of a bodybuilder but taut and toned from hard work. Dark hair that looked longish but it was hard to tell with the way it was soaked with sweat and clinging to his neck. He didn't look up at her, just grabbed a rag out of his back pocket to wipe his hands. His motion reminded her she was staring, actually staring and holding her breath.
By the time he tucked the rag back in his pocket she was holding the glass in front of his face.
"Tea alright? Papaw won't drink it but Mamaw said you might."
He nodded but didn't look up at her when he took the glass.
"S'fine." he mumbled and then downed the whole thing in one go, pausing to press the cold side of it to his face before handing it back.
She took it and then collected her grandfather's own empty one.
"I'd bring y'all some more but dinners about ready anyway. Give me about ten minutes and it'll be on the table."
He gave the older man a confused look.
Amber jumped in, already fighting the urge to babble. "All the workers always eat with the family. No exceptions."
"Get used to it, son. Roxie won't have it any other way." Papaw added.
Daryl seemed to hesitate,clearly uncomfortable, but then gave a terse nod before jerking himself back up under the pick up. Amber looked over and just shrugged at the older man before heading up to the house. Most of the hired hands practically tripped over themselves to get to the food in her grandmothers kitchen.
She headed back up to the house deep in thought. This whole thing stunk of her Mamaw's and Mama's doings. No wonder they had her bring the drinks out. She had to put a stop to this. My God, the divorce wasn't even final yet and they were pulling this crap. She had moved back here to get a break. This had to be nipped in the bud, NOW!
Y'all know what to do! Review me baby! More TWD characters are introduced shortly.