The girl was quiet, too quiet, and when he looked down to check on her, he saw her staring intently at something behind her. "Soph, what're you looking at?"

Her hand eased into his and she tugged him down to her level. "Do you see her? She looks like the fairy in my storybook. Except for that ugly shirt. It's awful."

The woman under discussion, flicked a glance their way but it was obvious she'd heard from the way her mouth quirked into a grin. That didn't keep his face from going hot. Sophia, at five years old, was prone to speaking her mind and never mind the consequences. Her Uncle Merle busted his sides every time the girl popped off but Daryl sighed and then tried to explain for the hundredth time why it wasn't proper to say whatever came into her head.

"Sophia," he began in a warning tone.

"But it's true," his daughter insisted and, to his dismay, pointed at the woman to underscore her point. "She looks just like Blue Belle from my book. She has the same silver hair and big pretty eyes but Belle's dress is like mist and fog. That lady's shirt has those ugly red flowers all over it. Belle would never wear that."

Daryl could feel his face flaming as the woman covered her mouth, shoulders shaking as she laughed behind her hand. "I'm sorry," he mumbled while giving Sophia a quelling look. "Soph, tell the lady you're sorry too."

To his surprise, the woman crouched down and let her smile widen. "Aren't you the smart one," she announced. "I didn't think anyone would recognize me in these clothes but you did, didn't you?"

Sophia stared and then she spun to look at her father with a joyous expression. "See!" She crowed. "She's Belle. The ugly shirt is a dis…a dis…a costume. She's hiding." She sidled closer to the woman and, in a conspiratorial tone, whispered. "I knew it was you."

"It's okay," the woman murmured back. "But let's keep this our little secret. You can call me Carol instead."

Sophia nodded solemnly and shook the woman's proffered hand. She then ducked behind her father, her little cheeks rosy with excitement. Daryl fidgeted but managed a little nod when the woman straightened and met his gaze. "Sorry," he said again. "Appreciate you going along with her."

"No problem," the woman, Carol, returned easily. "She's just speaking her mind. Nothing wrong with that." She glanced down at her shirt and gave a rueful smile. "I may have to rethink a few things though. This was my favorite shirt."

Daryl groaned and covered his eyes again. "Look, ma'am, I'm sorry she said that. She's…" The sound of her merry laughter brought his head up and his temper flared at her clear enjoyment at his expense. "Fuck that," he growled. "She's right. You look ridiculous."

Carol's eyes rounded and she started laughing all the harder at his suddenly horrified expression. "I can see where she gets it from," she observed. "You're a real sweet talker too." She adjusted the strap of her shopping bag over her shoulder and then gave them a little wave as she walked away. "Bye, Sophia. It was nice to meet you." Her gaze touched on Daryl's confused expression and she laughed again. "I hope you and your daddy have a nice afternoon."

Sophia waved back and called, "Bye, Belle." She was practically bouncing in excitement as the woman disappeared into the crowd.

"Let's get our stuff and go home, Sophia," Daryl ordered tiredly. "And remind me to never leave you with your Uncle Merle again. You're picking up his bad habits."

The little girl nodded agreeably and took his hand as they made their way to the checkout stations. "Okay, Daddy."

"Daddy said he wouldn't gonna leave me with you anymore," Sophia confided, her voice muffled by the wash cloth she was using to scrub her face.

Merle Dixon snorted under his breath and looked on in interest as his niece dropped her cloth on the sink and moved on to brushing her teeth. "Your daddy's full of shi…crap." He hastily amended, when those bright blue eyes turned in his direction. "He worries more than an old woman, that boy does. What got him riled up this time?"

"I told Belle her shirt was ugly at the store today." Noticing his darkening expression, Sophia hunkered her shoulders and shifted her feet. "Well it was. She usually wears pretty dresses that match her eyes. She didn't have her wings on neither."

"What in the world are you going on about, girl? Wings?"

The girl's chin lifted, reminding Merle of Daryl at his most stubborn. Even the way her eyes narrowed was his brother all over again. It made him want to laugh but he kept his face serious. Wouldn't do to let the little brat know she'd already gotten back in his good graces. "Belle from my book was at the store. I didn't know her at first cause she had big red flowers all over her shirt. Daddy told me to tell her sorry cause I said it was ugly but she didn't mind. She told me I was smart for knowing it was her."

Now that was interesting. Baby brother had talked with a real live woman in front of Sophia. Merle had been trying to get Daryl back in the game for years but the fool stubbornly insisted that he didn't have time for nothing but his girl and work. This, to Merle's knowledge, was the first time Daryl had spoken with a female in a coon's age. "You say her name's Belle, peanut?"

"She told me to call her Carol," Sophia said around a mouthful of toothpaste. "She was hiding, you see. Didn't want anybody else to know it was her." She whirled to give him a concerned look. "You won't tell, will you? She'll be mad if she finds out."

"My lips are sealed," Merle promised solemnly. "I won't tell a soul. You say she was at the store? You mean Greene's over on Senoia?" When Sophia nodded, Merle grinned and patted the little girl on the head. "That's good. That's real good. Best you hurry up and get to bed. Wouldn't want your daddy coming in and giving us hell because you're too tired for school tomorrow."

Hershel Greene knew trouble when he saw it and Merle Dixon stopping by in the middle of the day, asking to speak with him was nothing but trouble.

"Well if it ain't Farmer Hershel," the elder Dixon observed as he sidled up to the service desk.

Hershel sighed but then gave him a smile and a nod. "And there's the black sheep of the Dixon clan, Merle. What can I do for you, son?"

The man straightened and hooked his thumbs through his belt loops. "I was hoping you could help me out. My brother and his gal was in here yesterday and made the acquaintance of one of your customers. Soph took a liking to her so I was hoping we could get em together. Gal needs a woman around. My brother dotes on her but he ain't no momma, if you take my meaning."

"Daryl know you're playing matchmaker?" Hershel asked idly. "Can't say he'd be too happy if he did."

Merle shrugged, as unconcerned as anybody Hershel'd ever seen. "Boy would throw a fit but that's not what's important. Sophia is. She needs a momma and if my brother won't see to it, then it's my duty as their closest kin to get it done. The kit said her name's Carol. Does that ring a bell?"

"Has to be Carol Peletier," Beth, Hershel's youngest daughter, piped up from behind the desk. "She was in here yesterday like always."

"Peletier, you said." Merle repeated in satisfied tones. "And where can I find Miss Carol, sweetheart?"

Beth, missing the warning looks her father was giving her, answered quickly. "She teaches at Woodbury School. Comes in here every Thursday afternoon like clockwork. The school only has half day sessions that day. She lives a couple of streets over, on Alexandria."

"Thank you," Merle dipped his chin and shared his smile between father and daughter. "Much obliged to you folks." With that, he stuck his hands in his pockets and whistled merrily as he headed for the front.

"Doodlebug," Hershel said wearily as he watched the man leave. "I wish you hadn't done that."

Beth gave him a sunny grin and twisted her blonde hair around her fingers as she shrugged. "I think it's sweet, Daddy. Besides, wouldn't it be romantic if it worked out?"

Hershel waved her off, shaking his head as she sauntered off to help Jimmy unload the vegetables that had just come in.

Daryl wore his habitual scowl as he watched his brother stroll in, whistling as he came. "You're late," Daryl grumbled. "Shoulda been here two hours ago. Now we're gonna be behind all damned day."

"Had to run some errands, Darylina. Don't get your panties in a twist."

"Told Dale we'd have his car done by noon," Daryl huffed as he tugged on a bolt, finally getting it loose. "No way that's gonna happen now."

"He'll get over it," Merle waved his hand airily. "Let me grab my tools and I'll help you. Tara picking up Little Bit this afternoon?"

"Yeah. I'm supposed to pick her up from there around seven or so."

"I'll do that," Merle offered. "Least I can do since I put us behind."

Daryl gave a grunt of agreement, his attention still fixed on the troublesome motor before him. Merle smirked before ducking into the back to get his toolbox. His plan was coming together nicely. One more round of questions for his niece would get the last details nailed down and then he would get this show on the road.

"Hey, Daryl," Martinez ducked into the bay and tapped lightly on the hood to get the man's attention. When Daryl slid out from underneath the old Ford looking pissed, Martinez chuckled and shrugged by way of apology. "Sorry, man. Got a live one up front with a bike. That's your speed, man, not mine. Figured you should take it. I can finish up here."

Daryl rolled to his feet and yanked a rag out of his back pocket to swipe the sweat off his brow. "A bike?" he questioned. "He say what the problem was?"

Martinez let out another of those surprising chuckles and shook his head. "She didn't say. Anyway, she's waiting so…"

"I got it. I got it."

He ducked into the office, wiping his palms on his pants. Customers made him nervous so he usually left that sort of thing to the others. Sometimes, though, he just had to bite the bullet. "Sorry you had to wait. Understand you're having some problem with your bike." He trailed off when she turned, mist and fog and storm clouds coming to mind when he saw those blue eyes. "Belle," the name slipped out before he could catch it.

Her smile was luminous as she corrected him. "It's Carol. Nice to see you again. How's your daughter?"

"Sophia," he offered almost shyly. "She's good. At school right now though."

Carol grinned and stuck her hands in her pockets. "I teach over at Woodbury. Where does Sophia go?"

"Hilltop. She's in preschool."

Again, that smile flickered into view. "i love that age. They're so fun. It made my day that she thought I was a character from her book. That's a first for me."

He didn't know what to say. That smile. It made him light headed. It made him want to run like hell in the opposite direction. "So the bike?"

Carol shook her head but obligingly went along with the abrupt change in subject. "I've only had it a few weeks but it doesn't sound right. Doesn't seem to have as much power as it used to." She led him out into the late afternoon light and laughed when he stopped short, his jaw hanging open.

"A Triumph," he shot her a surprised look. "Damn!"

"That's what I said the first time I rode her," Carol laughed again. "It was love at first sight. She's not happy though. Do you mind looking her over?"

Daryl chewed on his thumb as he looked from the woman to the bike. "Yeah, sure. It may take a little while though. Can you hang around?" When she shook her head, he dropped his hand away from his mouth and shrugged helplessly. "I can try but it depends on what I find when I get in there."

"It's okay," she fidgeted with the strap of her purse. "I can call a cab." Reaching into an outside pocket, she retrieved a card and handed it over. "My cell number's on there. Just call me when you're done." She offered up yet another smile. "Say hi to Sophia for me, okay?"

Ignoring the knowing looks he was getting from Martinez and Shumpert, Daryl pocketed her business card and took the bike off the kick stand so he could roll it inside. "I'll do that," he returned. "Good to see you again."

"You too," She put her phone to her ear and started to walk away. "It'll probably be tomorrow, right?" She called back over her shoulder. When Daryl nodded, she covered the phone with her hand. "I'll be back then unless I hear from you first. Hello, I need to be picked up please…." She waved and then walked away, giving the cab company the address of the coffee shop on the corner.

Martinez helped him get the Triumph through the door, a smirk tugging at the edges of his mouth. "Nice bike," he commented, watching Daryl closely. "Nice lady too."

"Shut up, man," Daryl huffed. "It ain't like that."

Martinez snorted out a laugh at the way Daryl's face reddened. The shade almost matched the candy apple paint job on the mysterious woman's bike. He decided to let it go for now, knowing the younger Dixon had a hair trigger on his temper that it wouldn't do to get on the wrong side of. Didn't mean that he didn't file the information away to share with the elder Dixon brother whenever Merle wandered in though. A scoop like this one had to be worth at least a beer.