a/n Last one, lovelies. I couldn't continue to write these stories without the encouragement and support of those who take the time to read them. Thank you
Is love a fancy, or a feeling? No.
It is immortal as immaculate Truth,
'Tis not a blossom shed as soon as youth,
Drops from the stem of life—for it will grow,
In barren regions, where no waters flow, ~Harley Coleridge
Barely six months after he told her that he loved her, he put a ring on her finger and gave her his name. Twelve months after that, Sophia became a big sister when Samuel Merle Dixon made his red-faced, squalling entrance into the world.
His Uncle Merle took one look at his namesake and announced that he was a Dixon through and through. Two pairs of blue eyes…one blinking hazily at a new world; the other blinking through a haze of tears…stared at the other transfixed. Sam squawked uncertainly, his tiny hands waving as Merle pushed the blanket aside so that he could examine the boy. "He looks just like Daryl," the man whispered, almost too quietly to hear. "He was a little bitty scrap of nothing with a good set of lungs too." Merle freed up one hand to lay it gently on Carol's shoulder. "You did good, momma. You did just fine."
Carol's lip trembled, tears sliding unimpeded down her cheeks as she watched the big man cradle the baby oh so carefully in his arms. "We're naming him Samuel after my father," she confided, her expression gratified when he nodded in approval. "His middle name, if you're okay with it? We'd like to call him Merle." For the rest of her life, Carol would remember the look on his face when Merle realized what she'd said.
"Hey, little man," he murmured to the baby cradled in his arms. "Sam Dixon. It's a good name, boy, and a fine name. You're gonna do right by it, you hear me? You will."
Unable to watch them any longer, Carol darted a look at her husband, who was sitting in a chair in the corner cradling their exhausted daughter who'd finally given up the ghost and was now sound asleep. His face…oh God…the look on his face as he watched his brother speaking to his son came close to tearing out her heart. Carol knew how close the Dixon brothers were, how dedicated they were to each other despite their frequent disagreements. She saw every bit of that bond etched on Daryl's face in that moment; reflected in his eyes. It had been the two of them against the world for so long. Before Sophia. Before Carol. Before Sam. In her whole life, Carol had never seen a love like that. But now she lived and breathed it. Her children lived it. She couldn't ask for anything more.
She looked very much the way she had the first time he'd seen her standing by that red Triumph. He let his gaze take a leisurely tour of her form before meeting her knowing gaze.
"See something you like?" She quipped playfully.
"See something I love," he returned, offering up a sideways smirk. "Didn't know you were coming by though. I told ya that Sam was spending the afternoon with me. Soph is over at Judith's house. They'll drop her off later."
Carol hooked her thumb in her belt loop and tilted her head to the side. "I had another reason, an important reason, for coming by. It's a surprise though. I just didn't want you to talk me out of it."
Brows crinkled in confusion, Daryl followed his wife's gaze over her shoulder and then snorted out a disbelieving laugh. "You gotta be fucking kidding me, Carol. Have you lost your mind?"
"I just wanted to return the favor, Daryl. I mean, we owe him. Look how much trouble he went through for us."
"He'll never go for it," Daryl rubbed his eyes tiredly. "You know he won't. Shit, Carol. What'd you tell her?"
It was Carol's turn to smile smugly. "You must have a low opinion of me, Dixon, if you think I'd stoop to such an amateur move as trying to fix Merle up by myself." She looped her arms around his neck and drew his mouth down to hers. After brushing his lips lightly with hers, she whispered, "Sophia was ever so happy to tell her how Uncle Merle always took care of her whenever Daddy had to work late. Dance lessons. Homework. Reading her bedtime stories. He's not such a big, tough badass after all."
Daryl laughed outright and then kissed his wife soundly. "Fed her a good line of bullshit then, the both of you. God only knows how much whitewash it took to make Merle come out ahead."
"I'm willing to put my money where my mouth is," Carol announced with a challenging glint in her eyes. "Are you?"
Aware of how they'd settled their bets in the past, Daryl knew that win or lose; he would enjoy the hell out of the outcome. "You're on, lady."
"Merle, gotta customer," Daryl hollered across the bay.
"Hell, Darylina, can't you see I'm up to my elbows in what's left of this motor? Tell Martinez to take it." Merle's muffled voice came from underneath the hood of an old Ford they'd already killed the morning on.
"No can do, brother. You're the only one who knows anything about this model."
The garage was filled with the sound of Merle's swearing as he threw his tools aside and stopped long enough to kick the Ford's front tire before making his way outside. Daryl ghosted along behind him, shushing Carol as she brought up the rear, Sam cradled on her hip.
"What seems to be the…" Merle trailed off as the prospective customer and their bike came into view.
The vintage Harley Davidson was something to see but the female standing alongside was what drew his gaze. She was close to six feet tall, hair as black as a raven's wing falling in loose curls down her back. Her dark eyes studied him, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Merle Dixon," she said in cool, lightly accented tones. "I hear you're the man to see when it comes to these kinds of bikes."
It took all of three seconds. One. Two. Three.
Merle straightened, threw back his shoulders and puffed out his chest. "Well, darlin, of course Ole Merle knows all there is to know about a Hog, but before you tell me what's wrong with the bike, how about telling me your name?"
Her Cheshire cat grin mirrored the one Merle currently wore. She proffered her hand, "Eleanora Gargulio. I'm a friend of Carol's."
Merle chuckled and shot a glance over his shoulder where the pair hovered; silently promising that payback would soon be his. "Well, sugar tits, if it's all the same to you, I'm gonna call you Nell."
