Chapter Twenty-Six

"You're my daddy, right?" the little one asked, big blue eyes wide and inquisitive, and Merle sought Andrea with his gaze, a mixture of fear and trepidation lurking in his stare. Andrea stood stiffly, hand over her mouth to stifle a sob, a lone tear trailing over her ashen face, simply nodding, confirming what he already knew in his heart.

He ducked his head, so he could catch his little daughter's gaze. "Yeah, sweetheart, that's me," he replied in a quivering whisper. Emmarie looked at him with curiosity and hesitated only briefly before she sloppily kissed his grizzled cheek, and Merle could feel the beginning sting of tears prick his lids. He blinked rapidly as she grinned at him and plucked at his collar. "An' jus' how d'you know I'm yer daddy, munchkin?" he asked, his voice raspy with emotion.

"'Cause Mommy told me," she said simply as if that statement explained it all. He supposed to a three-year-old, her mother's word was law. She pointed to the desk, tugging on his collar until he brought her around the massive oak structure. There on the polished surface were two picture frames. One held a picture of Emmarie, the other contained the remaining four pictures from the photo booth he and Andrea had taken together at the fair. "See? Mommy told me all about you. Your name is Merle and you're a soldier who has to be away to protect our county, and –"

"Country, sweet pea," Andrea corrected, a shaky smile on her lips.

His daughter smacked her forehead with her little hand. "That's right. She told me one day my daddy would be finished fighting and come home to us. And now you're finally here," she breathed with all the awe she could muster. "Mommy said when you got home I could finally get to meet my uncle Daryl too – Mommy says I look like him - but not my grandpa because he's not nice and I wouldn't like him."

Merle cut his eyes towards his woman, surprised at just how much Andrea had shared with their daughter. "S'that right?"

Her blonde curls bounced as she nodded sagely. "Are you really back now, Daddy? You don't have to fight no more and can be with me and Mommy?"

He shook his head and had to clear his throat before he could answer. "No, baby girl, I don't have to fight no more. Em … Emma …"

"Emmarie," she provided with a giggle. "My name is Emma Marie Harrison, but my auntie Amy shortened it because she thought it fit me better. Mommy named me after my grandmas." She suddenly looked unsure. "D-D'you like it?"

"Yeah … I really do, darlin'. It's perfect." His eyes caught Andrea's as his daughter nestled her head into the crook of his neck and yawned. "We need t' talk, Andrea … now."

She swallowed audibly and looked to her sister. "Amy, could you take her to get a snack in the lobby, please."

It didn't take a genius to feel the heated tension in the air, Merle's anger a tangible thing. Amy shrugged her brows and moved forward to take her niece, worried for her sister and how she was going to get out of this one. Emmarie, however, proved difficult, her little hands fisted in Merle's collar as Amy tried to take her from her father.

"NO! I wanna stay with Daddy!" she wailed. Merle was afraid he was about to witness a tantrum worthy of the name Dixon.

He smoothed a hand down her back and tightened the arm he had around her. "Shh, s'a'right, little darlin'. I ain't goin' nowhere. I'll be right here talkin' t' yer mama when y' get back."

Emmarie sniffled and leaned back, looking at him with those wide teary blue eyes and he swore he would have promised her the world. "You promise?"

Merle made an 'x' across his chest. "Cross m' heart." His eyes slammed closed as she hugged him around his neck as tightly as possible, his heart wrenching with love for his little girl at her unquestioning acceptance of him.

Andrea winced at the soft click of the latch as the door closed behind Amy and Emmarie. She took a deep breath, trying to calm a little before she looked up into what she knew would be her love's steely-eyed gaze. She peeked up at him from beneath her lashes. She'd been right. His eyes were as hard as his clenched jaw, but his furious hiss when it came was soft as a whisper.

"Did y' know?" he seethed, stalking closer, his boots making not a sound on the carpet. "Did y' know y' were pregnant before I left?"

"No," she replied, her voice catching on the single syllable. "Merle –"

"Y' cut me outta yer life an' then had m' baby … alone. Not once did y' try t' contact me." His chest rose and fell rapidly with every heaving breath as he tried to keep his voice down, not wanting their daughter to hear their voices raised in anger. "She's mine, Andrea … MINE! How could y' keep somethin' like this t' yerself? How? Better yet, how'd y' keep it from Daryl? Y' was livin' in th' same goddamned town! Amy works for Francine!"

Andrea raised a trembling hand up to cover her brow, pinching her temples as she quickly gathered her thoughts. "Are you prepared to listen, or would you rather yell at me?" She was more than familiar with Merle Dixon's temper. He was a blustering asshole when he was in a rage, but he'd never lifted a hand to her. He was nothing like his vile father, and she knew it. As hot-tempered as he could be, she had no reason to fear him.

Merle dropped down into a chair positioned in front of her desk and buried his face in his hands, scrubbing them back and forth before he leaned back and gave her his full attention. "G'on an' tell me. Ain't nothin' could surprise me more right now."

She poured him a glass of iced water from the pitcher on her desk and then sat down in the chair next to him. "I never meant to hurt you, Merle. Letting you go was the hardest thing I've ever had to do."

He sighed and took a sip from his glass. "Y' were tryin' t' protect yerself. I know that, Blondie. Y' thought y' was gonna lose me t' a bullet or worse … I get it. I still had every intention of comin' back for y'. It don't explain why y' didn't tell me about my kid."

Andrea rubbed her palms up and down her thighs and huffed a bitter laugh. "Protect myself? Sometimes, I wonder if I even know how. After I watched you get on that bus –"

"Y' watched me leave?" he asked, dumbfounded. She'd made it pretty clear she didn't want to have anything more to do with him if he finished out his tour, yet she'd gone down to the bus station for one last look?

"Yes, Merle," she admitted, leaving no part of her heart hidden from him. "And then I went home and sank into a depression from which I didn't think I'd recover. Amy told Daddy about our breakup and he tried to convince me to move home with him, to go back to school and finish my master's degree. He didn't want me wallowing in self-pity over a man, despite him knowing what you meant to me. He said there was no use laying in the bed, pining for you and making myself sick." She laughed bitterly. "And boy was I sick. Daddy finally made Amy take me to the doctor. You'd been gone a month, and I'd lost weight because I didn't want to even think of eating. Everything turned my stomach. I didn't want to see anyone, go anywhere … I was a mess. It took seeing that first ultrasound to believe I was really having your baby."

"How, when y' never missed a pill?"

"Apparently, the antibiotics they'd prescribed for that UTI made them ineffective. At least that's what Dr. Carson told me." She shrugged. "Merle, I wanted to tell you, but then I started thinking of you over there, putting your life on the line every day, the stress and strain. You were already worried about Daryl staying here with Jackson. How could I add to that?"

Merle leaned forward, his fingers coiling around her upper arms, pulling her towards him as his eyes glinted angrily. "Because that was my baby y' were carryin', Andrea! I had every right t' know. Y' say y' didn't tell me because y' were tryin' t' protect me. Daryl told me th' same shit about why he didn't want me t' know how bad it was for him. I don't need y'all protectin' me, for fuck's sake! I'm a grown ass man, not some simperin' miss."

"And what would you have done if you'd known, if I'd told you?"

He let go and pushed to his feet, raking a hand over his short-cropped hair. "I'da come back, an' y' know it."

"Exactly … you'd have gone AWOL and been court-martialed. Your entire career would have gone to hell, and that's not even considering the time you'd have had to serve," she sighed. "I couldn't do that to you."

Merle dropped his head into his hand and gnashed his teeth, hating to admit she was right. He would have thrown it all away if he'd known about Emmarie. Hell, he'd already told Daryl he would have come back for him too. "What'd y' do then? Franny said y' moved away, back t' Peachtree City with yer father."

"I did. I packed up everything and moved home. I went back to school, but out of state to protect my secret. It nearly killed Amy to keep her big mouth shut. You know how she likes to gossip. I hid from everyone I knew from Senoia in hopes I could keep the knowledge of your daughter from you until you came home."

He startled slightly as she moved behind him and rested her hand at the small of his back. "You were hiding her from Jackson … weren't y'?"

Merle pulled her around and gathered her close to his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around her, feeling her shudder. "I couldn't let him find out … not without you here to protect her."

He suppressed a shudder, remembering Jackson's confession about his brother. Daryl bore the brunt of Jackson's hate and rage because he'd favored Drew. Merle hated to think of what he'd have done to his grandchild for the same reason. He tilted her chin up, his thumb brushing over her lower lip as his eyes hardened to shards of ice. "Bastard can't hurt her, Blondie. He ain't never gonna hurt anyone ever again."

Andrea's lips parted on a gasp as she searched his face for the truth. "Oh, god, Merle … what did you do? No, don't tell me … wait, yes, tell me. They can't make me testify if I'm your attorney."

He pulled her in close again and pressed his lips to her brow. "I don't want y' t' hate me. Don't think I could stand it."

"Tell me," she whispered, her hands fisting in his vest. "I love you too much to ever hate you, Merle."

Merle sighed, his hand caressing her nape as he closed his eyes, simply reveling in their embrace. She was the only one who could soothe the storm raging within him. "Came home Friday night with plans t' meet Daryl at th' house, t' help him get th' rest of his stuff t' bring out t' th' cabin. Th' ol' bastard wasn't s'posed t' be there. Carol was hysterical when she called t' tell me what was goin' on. I got there jus' in time t' pull him off my brother, but Daryl nearly died from th' beatin' he took."

"Oh, my god. Is he ok?"

"Still in th' hospital. Had t' have surgery. But I can promise y' this … when he gets out, he ain't got t' worry about Jackson Dixon ever again. No one does. I made sure of it," he hissed coldly. He brought his rough calloused hand up to caress the smooth silk of her cheek. "M' brother, m' baby girl, m' woman … all safe." He sighed heavily and set her away from him, taking a step back. "I can understand if y' don't want nothing t' do with me –"

Andrea's eyes narrowed as she planted her hands on her hips. "Goddamnit, Merle, you are such a shit! I withheld the knowledge of your daughter from you … which is pretty damn horrible. How could you think I would turn my back on your for ridding the world of the vilest man I've ever had the misfortune to meet? He tortured your mother, your brother … YOU! I hate that it had to be you who killed him, but I'm not sorry he's dead."

He threw back his head and laughed as she wound herself around him, her lips teasing at the corner of his mouth. "Still got that fire, Blondie."

"For you," she purred silkily.

"Come home with me … you an' th' munchkin. I wanna start looking at plans to build us a house on Grandad's land. Wanna be close t' Daryl an' his girl, an' I think our lil' princess would love it out there. I can teach her t' hunt."

The intercom buzzed, and he groaned as her secretary's voice resounded in the room. "Ms. Harrison, Mr. and Mrs. Peterson are here to see you."

Merle's lips wandered lazily over her throat. "Tell 'em y' have t' reschedule," he breathed hotly against her ear. "Y' got plans with me."

"I can't. I have to meet with them today."

He could see the regret and frustration in her eyes as he pulled away. "A'right, I understand. So, it'll jus' be me an' my daughter 'til y' get off work. Then y' can meet us at th' cabin for dinner. We still got lots to … discuss."

Andrea's brows rose in alarm. "Merle, are you sure? I mean … I want you to spend time with Emmarie, but … well, you don't … hell! What do you know about taking care of a three-year-old?"

He pulled her back into his arms and kissed her breathless. "Ain't a woman alive who can resist th' Dixon charm," he quipped, waggling his brows.

Andrea snorted. "Yeah, I'll remember you said that when you call me within the next two hours ready to pull your hair out."

Merle grabbed up Emmarie's backpack and slung it over his shoulder. "Then again, Blondie, I might surprise y'."

He was brought up short as he opened the door and found his daughter standing there with Amy, clutching a pack of white chocolate pretzels in one hand and a small bottle of juice in the other. "Where you going, Daddy? You said you wasn't leavin'. Are you leavin'? I don't want you to go," she pouted, her lower lip wobbling.

"Emmarie! That is not nice," Andrea scolded, ready to step out of her office to greet her clients. Her daughter might resemble Daryl when he'd been younger, but that girl was all Merle.

"He just got heres, Mommy! I been waiting so so long for him," she whined, batting those big doe eyes at Andrea, something which guaranteed she'd get her way.

Merle bit back a laugh, but he couldn't hide a devilish smile. He reached down and lifted his little girl up into his arms. "I have t' go, Munchkin, but y' know what? You get t' come with me."

"Really?!" She looked down at her mother's smiling face and squealed with delight as Amy sputtered out a protest.

"You're letting her go with Merle? Do you really think that's such a good idea?"

"He's her father, Amy," Andrea addressed her sister. "It's about time they got to know each other."

*.*.*

"Daddy, I got sticky fingers," Emmarie informed him from her child seat next to him in the truck. It had taken the better part of thirty minutes to strap the infernal contraption onto the bench seat while Amy stood back with Emmarie chuckling at his struggles. He didn't know how Andrea had done it all alone. Of course, her sister and father had been there to help her, but his Blondie had always been fiercely independent, and he could see her trying to do it all on her own.

He glanced over at his daughter and grinned. "Yeah, Daddy was known t' have sticky fingers at one time too. Don'tcha worry, Munchkin, I'll get y' all cleaned up soon as we get there."

"Where we goin'?"

"We're goin' t' see yer Uncle Daryl. He's in th' hospital, an' I think meetin' y' would cheer him up. Would y' like that," he asked as he turned into the parking lot and eased into a space.

Emmarie nodded, her curls bouncing vigorously. "Mama said Uncle Daryl is nice and that I look like him. How come?"

Merle reached into her backpack and found a pack of wipes to clean her hands. "I dunno, darlin'. Sometimes fam'lies look alike because they're all related. See, me? I look more like m' mama, where Daryl looks more like his uncle; y' understand?"

Emmarie tilted her head to the side and scrunched up her little nose. "Kinda like Auntie Amy looks like Mommy?"

"Exactly!" her father chortled. "Don't worry, you'll learn about stuff like that when y' go t' school."

Merle unfastened the buckles of her child seat and took a moment to rummage inside the backpack where he stashed the wipes. There were also a few snacks, juice boxes, a doll, crayons and a coloring book. He shook his head; his woman was prepared for any emergency. There was even a change of clothes. He got out and lifted his daughter up to perch on his hip. He could have let her walk on her own beside him, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He enjoyed the feeling of her nestled in his arms, the knowledge that she was his and completely dependent on his care. It was the same feeling he'd had the first time his mama had let him hold Daryl. He might have missed out on the first three years of his daughter's life, but he was there now, and he would make sure he would remain with her and her mother. Emmarie would never know the same childhood he and Daryl had been forced to endure. She would only know love and happiness … he'd make damn sure of it.

As they got off the elevator, Merle's gut clenched as he thought of his brother's reaction to his new niece. If he even believed the child was his. His steps slowed. He didn't want Daryl to say anything – however innocently intended – which might upset his daughter. A calculating smirk twisted his lips as he came to a halt and looked down at Emmarie.

"What say we prank Uncle Daryl?"

"Mommy said it's not nice," she said, fidgeting with his collar. "She says we're not s'posed to hurt people's feelings."

Merle chuckled. "I promise this prank won't hurt his feelings, but it will rile him up. It'll be good for 'im, get his blood pumpin'."

Emmarie still looked unsure. She wanted so much for her daddy to like her, she was hesitant not to play his game. "What would I have to do, Daddy?"

"Jus' sit right here an' look pretty, sweetheart, while Daddy does all th' talkin'."

"Ok." Emmarie decided to trust him and wrapped her arms around his neck, so she could rest her head against his broad shoulder. Her mother had always told her what a wonderful man her father was, and her mommy was never wrong.

Merle continued down the corridor, pausing just out of sight of the open door to his brother's room. Carol sat on the bed next to Daryl, her curls in wild disarray as she tapped furiously at her tablet and then jotted some notes down on the notebook balanced on her thigh. Francine had come for a visit and had brought an entire buffet judging from the number of tupperware containers she was setting out on the overbed table.

"Thanks so much, Mom. I swear they're tryin' t' starve us up here. Did you bring any cake?" Daryl asked hopefully, pulling the table in closer so he could attempt to feed himself with his left hand. "Carol, cain't y' stop for five seconds t' eat. Gawd, woman, our homework will still be there after y' have a piece of chicken."

"Well, aren't you just a peach today, son," Francine admonished lightly as she spread a cloth napkin over his lap. "And yes, I brought a piece of cake for both of you for dessert. Now eat."

"Sorry, Mom," he grumbled around a mouthful of chicken and broccoli rice casserole. He moaned in pleasure as his teeth sank into the savory chicken, never so happy to have been cleared to have real food again.

Carol set her homework aside and reached for a container of loaded baked potato soup. "Mom, our English essays are due tomorrow. They're finished and just need to be printed from my laptop at Daryl's. Could you possibly do that for me? Rick said he could pick them up and bring them to school for us to turn them in."

It was still early, just past noon, so Francine would have plenty of time to accomplish the task. "Of course, dear. Did you need anything else?" She already had a small bag of laundry she'd be taking home with her.

The children gave a negative shake of their heads.

"And your plan for school? Is it working out as you wished?"

Daryl reached for a roll and then frowned at the butter dish, wondering how he was going to manage. "Uh … yeah. We're only required to sit through th' lecture part of the class, though Carol still likes t' be Miss Know-It-All and participate in th' group discussion."

Carol set her soup down and took the roll from him, slathering it in butter. "Class participation counts for five percent of our grade, Daryl. Today hasn't been so bad though, Mom. We can skip Study Hall for obvious reasons which gives Daddy and Everett time to order tests or consult or whatever else they need to do. Then we can sit for World History. Chem II is a bit iffy because we can't participate in the lab assignments, but Ms. Atkinson assures us we can make those up later as long as we do the written work. We're reviewing in Trig this week before we start something new on Monday. It's all worked out great so far … still have Biology II and English to get through this afternoon."

"So, y' wouldn't mind havin' another visitor while y' on break?" Merle asked, his face breaking out into a wide grin as he stepped through the door, happy to hear Daryl and his girl were able to keep up with their classes despite the hospital stay.

Francine moved around the end of the bed to greet him with a warm hug. "Merle, darling, how good to see you. And who is this little angel? Hi, sweetheart," she cooed at the child, brushing a hand over her soft curls.

Emmarie smiled shyly and ducked back against her daddy's shoulder. Daryl stared wide-eyed with shock at his brother. "Th' hell, Merle? Where'd th' kid come from?"

"I dunno, baby brother … there I was in th' elevator on my way up, an' this kid is in there an' she jus' latched onto me," he said, his face conveying the most serious expression he could muster. "Figured since she stopped screamin' when I picked her up, I'd come on up for a visit before I brought her down and turned her over to security."

Carol made an undignified squeak of distress in the back of her throat and shrieked. "Merle!"

Daryl sputtered and abandoned his casserole, his left arm gesticulating wildly. "Fu –" he cut himself off before he cursed in front on the innocent little girl. "Merle, y' can't jus' be pickin' up random kids like that. I know y' did it over in Afghanistan when y' was used t' savin' them on a daily basis, but it ain't like that here. Y' wanna get arrested or somethin'? Tell him, Mom!"

Francine's sharp eyes, however; were intently studying the child's face. "Oh, my …" she breathed, chancing a quick glance up at Merle who shot her a saucy wink. She held out her hands to take Emmarie. "Come here, sweetheart, and give Grams a hug."

"WHAT?!" The two on the bed gasped.

Emmarie looked up at her daddy in askance, leery of the woman, but Merle nodded his approval which seemed to be good enough for her. "It's ok, darlin'."

The child leaned over to hug her new grandma, but immediately pulled herself back up to hide in her daddy's neck. "Mom, meet m' daughter … Emma Marie Harrison, though she'll be a Dixon soon as we can sort out the proper legalities ... hopefully."

Tears glistened in Francine's eyes. "Emma …"

"You went to see Andrea," Carol stated, amazed by the new turn of events. "H-How did we not know?"

Merle rounded the bed to sit on Daryl's left, settling his little girl there on his lap. "Em, this is your Uncle Daryl." He grinned sheepishly at his brother. "She ain't shut up about y' since we got in th' truck."

Emmarie stared unflinchingly at her uncle, taking in his various injuries. She brushed her little finger over the scabs on his knuckles. "Why you gots so many boo boos?"

Daryl cleared his throat enough to allow him to speak softly to his niece. "I … uhm … I got in an accident." He flexed his hand for her to see. "They don't even hurt."

She looked up at her father and cupped a little hand around her mouth. "Daddy … I need to go potty."

Daryl snorted as the color drained from his brother's face at the simple request. Francine smiled knowingly and took her granddaughter from Merle. "Come with me, darling. I'll show you where it is."

Merle took the opportunity of her absence to fill them in. "Andrea didn't know she was pregnant when I had to go back after my medical leave."

Carol gaped at him. "She broke up with you, Merle, and ripped your heart out in the process," she said in staunch defense of her friend. "The least she could have done was write a letter or pick up the phone to let you know you had a child."

"Don't get yer knickers in a knot, lil' sister. It was all an act. Yer jus' upset because she didn't tell y'all about Emmarie." Carol crossed her arms over her chest and pursed her lips in displeasure, but that shit didn't work on Merle. "We had a nice long talk this mornin'. She didn't tell me 'cause she was tryin' t' protect both me an' our girl. Me from a court martial – 'cause y' know if I'da known about my baby, I woulda deserted – an' Em from Jackson. She didn't want th' ol' man t' know he had a grandbaby without me here t' protect her. Y' feel me?"

Daryl huffed out an exasperated sigh. "But she seems so … comfortable with y'. How when y' jus' met her?"

"Blondie … she had pictures of us together, an' she showed 'em t' Emmarie, told her stories about me so she'd know me when I finally came home."

Carol buttered another roll, this one for herself, and proceeded to pick it apart. "Considering you're being allowed to spend time with your daughter … does this mean you worked things out with Andrea?"

The smile he shot Carol showed nearly every one of his teeth. "Yeah … we're back together … for good this time. She's meetin' me at th' cabin after work so we can talk things over. I want her t' move out there with us until I can build us a place of our own."

Daryl nodded. "Ain't like we ain't got th' room. We still got that spare bedroom we been usin' for storage. We can clean it out an' make it fit for your kid." He ducked his head, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "I'm sure Mom's jus' dying t' get t' th' store t' start pickin' things out for her bedroom."

Merle groaned, knowing he didn't have a chance in hell of keeping Francine from spoiling Emmarie completely rotten. "Dad needs t' cut up her damn gold card!"

Carol snorted. "Yeah, that's so not gonna happen."

Daryl laid his hand on his brother's forearm. "Happy looks good on y', bro."

Merle looked between him and Carol. "Yeah, on you too, baby brother … on you too."

A/n: Daryl will be going home from the hospital soon, and Merle has just found a little slice of happiness of his own. I do so love our Dixons to be happy. I hope you all enjoyed. Great buckets of love to my betas BettyBubble and Geektaire. Without y'all I am a big hot mess!