AN: Here we go, another chapter here.

I hope that you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

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There was such a thing as calling too late on the farm since everyone had a preference for getting to bed not long after the sun was gone down and supper was finished, but there wasn't much of a problem with calling too early.

Carol and Daryl arrived at the Greene farm while the sun was still somewhat deciding to wake from its slumber. Carol had ridden there with her head leaned against Daryl's shoulder, enjoying something akin to a nap while the wagon rocked her with its motion. She only opened her eyes when she heard him call out to the horses to slow their steps and she felt the wagon rock with the ceasing of forward motion.

When Carol opened her eyes, Daryl was wrapping the reins and Miss Jo was already walking toward the wagon, her apron gathered in her hand, from where she'd been feeding chickens.

"Awful early to come calling," Miss Jo said as she approached the wagon. "I hope it's a friendly call. Somethin' wrong?"

"Ain't exactly a friendly call," Daryl responded. "But it ain't that there's nothin' wrong neither. Not exactly. Hershel about?"

"He's inside," Miss Jo said. "Just rousing the troops for breakfast. Won't you join us? We haven't sat yet."

Daryl shook his head.

"We done ate," Daryl said. "And we'd hate to interrupt your meal, but wouldn't mind bendin' an ear if you could see fit to allow it."

Miss Jo looked between Daryl and Carol, but Carol didn't offer any of her own words. She wouldn't until they were inside and settled—ready to bend the ears of the couple that they'd come seeking out for advice. Miss Jo nodded her head.

"It's fine," Miss Jo said. "Just fine. You'll have a cup of coffee while we eat. Start on in. I won't be a minute followin' you."

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The farmhouse was warm and welcoming. Hershel seated Daryl and Carol before Miss Jo made it in from finishing with her chickens, but by the time she began to pass around the food, their children had joined them at the table with Merle and two other farmhands.

"I would've thought you'd be headed into town," Hershel said after he'd laid a blessing on the food that would carry them all through the day well enough. "Aren't the children expected in for school today?"

"That's part of why we're here," Daryl said. "I'm drivin' Carol in to town today. But she was wantin' to come by an' have a word before we went in."

"You're welcome to all the words you want," Hershel said with a laugh. "So long as they can be finished before I've finished my breakfast."

Daryl nodded his head and looked at the others who were seated at the table. Carol could see, and more than likely Daryl could too, that none of them were interested in the exchange in the slightest. The fried meat and biscuits on offer held much more interest for everyone there.

"We found out yesterday that we're expectin' to have a child," Daryl said.

"You an' Carol?" Merle asked quickly, unapologetic for the biscuit he lost from his mouth in the process.

"Don't know who else it'd be," Daryl responded. "We ain't knowed long. Found out yesterday. Carol went with Andrea to Doc's while she was in town an' I ain't knowed 'til after supper last night."

Hershel was beaming and Carol felt her cheeks run warm at the whole thing. She didn't want to look at any of them for the moment, so she simply studied the white tablecloth in front of her.

"Well, I believe that means that congratulations are in order for you both!" Hershel said. "It's been a long time coming, but everything happens in its time." Daryl hummed and Carol dared to look up from the table cloth only long enough to see Hershel's face drop once more. "Is there something wrong, son?" Hershel asked. "I expected that this would be happy news to you both."

"It is," Daryl insisted. "It is. We happy. We right happy...but..."

"It's awful early in the morning for buts, Daryl," Hershel said.

"Daryl thinks I oughta quit teaching," Carol said. She hadn't meant to interrupt the conversation, but she was anxious to get it out there. She was anxious to say what needed to be said, to hear what needed to be heard, and to deal with things. The sun would be coming up quickly once it got its start and they all had things to do. The mornings were busy times for them all. Her students, she knew, would be arriving soon and they'd be sitting outside, no doubt wondering where she was and why she was late for welcoming them into school.

"I see," Hershel said. "Is it true, Daryl? You think that Carol should give up teaching?"

Daryl glanced at Carol. He somewhat frowned at her and then he looked back at Hershel.

"Is an' it ain't," he said. "I don't got no problem with her teachin'. I don't figure it can do no harm workin' with the students. She ain't come home with much more'n a papercut or a splinter since she started so it ain't exactly treated her bad. She can see worse than that any morning on the farm."

"But you do have a problem?" Hershel pressed.

Daryl nodded his head gently.

"Jubilee's a smooth ridin' horse alright," Daryl said. "But I don't figure it's no good idea havin' Carol trottin' that mare back an' forth from here to town twice a day while she's carryin' no kid. Seems to me it would shake it loose."

"Damn straight it'd shake it loose," Merle said, voicing his opinion from across the table.

"Andrea said they're harder to get out than you imagine," Carol offered. "Doc helped her rid of one not two weeks ago and it weren't no easy passing."

The youngest of their children, Elizabeth or Beth as they often called her, let out something akin to a hiccup and Hershel waved his hand in Carol's direction.

"With all due respect," Hershel said, "we'll have no more talk of that at the breakfast table. Andrea may have been right about one thing, though, and that's that it's harder to let loose of a baby than you might imagine. All things considered, it can be easier too. Daryl's not wrong in suggesting that you shouldn't be riding Jubilee back and forth twice a day, but he's not right, either in suggesting that it's guaranteed to cause somethin' to happen. Still, sometimes it's best to err on the side of caution."

"There is such a thing as being overly cautious," Miss Jo offered. "Perhaps this is one of those situations?"

Hershel looked at his wife and frowned.

Carol gave a quick glance to everyone else that was seated at the table. There was a certain solemnity that had settled over everyone gathered there and a few of them looked slightly drained of blood. Carol hoped she hadn't ruined breakfast for the whole lot of them, but she feared that she had.

"I didn't mean to be the cause of trouble," Carol offered softly. "I only wished to say that, maybe, it wouldn't be so simple as to shake the baby loose while riding back and forth. Doc said I've been expectin' it for a few months now. In all that time it ain't exactly done it no harm."

"Like I told ya this morning," Daryl said, "snakes don't do no harm 'til they bite'cha neither."

"Daryl has a point," Hershel said, his voice strong. "However..." he dropped off for a moment and glanced at his wife. His voice wasn't quite as powerful when he spoke again. "Carol has a point too. A short period of time continuing as she's been livin' probably won't do no harm. But, in my opinion, it'd be best to make other arrangements as soon as you can."

"I ain't askin' for a long time," Carol said. "Just long enough they find someone else to take over for me. Someone to teach the children when I can't be there 'cause I'll be motherin'. There ain't nobody right now. And if I was to go into town today an' tell 'em that I just weren't gonna do it no more? There'd be nobody to help the children get their lessons. We got some that's close to finishing all the way through. It'd be a shame for 'em to have to stop just because they don't have a teacher."

"I'm not wantin' 'em to go without education," Daryl said. "Not if they got a mind to get it and Carol's wantin' to offer it. But—I don't know enough to know what kinda chance we're takin'."

"And so you come to me because you think I can tell you what to do?" Hershel asked.

Daryl nodded his head at the old man.

"Yessir," he said. "At the least, you can tell us what'cha think. We don't ask much more'n that. Neither one of us knows quite what we're doin' here."

Hershel seemed to have lost all interest in his food, but he did pick up his coffee cup and drink from it. He shook his head gently as he put the cup down.

"It's likely I'm no more fit to say what you should do than either of you," he said.

"But you got a sight more children than we do," Daryl offered. "You knowed what to do with them."

"I had a great deal less to do with that than you might think," Hershel said. "My job is and was to provide. It was hardly me that handled bringing my children into the world."

"Carrying children is woman's work," Miss Jo offered. "And it's women who know what's best for them and for their children."

Daryl looked at the woman and Carol looked at Daryl to judge how he might respond. The frustration from earlier was gone from his face, but it was clear that he was still struggling to understand what might be best for them and their promise of a family.

"Then whatta you say?" Daryl asked. "I feel like we're tied up here. We don't know what to do an' it's the first time we ain't sure we agree on somethin' at all."

Miss Jo laughed at that. She got up from where she was seated and walked away. When she returned, she came carrying a coffee pot which she used to refill Hershel's cup before she passed it to her daughter to pass around the table. She took her seat again.

"Why not reach a compromise?" Miss Jo asked. "Sometimes it ain't about agreein' all the way to one side or the other. Sometimes it's about findin' somethin' that looks like even ground you both can stand on."

"What kind of a compromise?" Carol asked.

"You wanna teach them children?" Miss Jo asked.

Carol nodded her head.

"I do," Carol said. "I think they deserve the chance to learn what they wanna learn. I don't wanna deny 'em that just 'cause there isn't a soul to teach them."

"But if it would end this pregnancy?" Miss Jo asked. "If it would cause some harm to your child?"

Carol shook her head.

"Then I'd have to stop," Carol said. "That ain't what I want. It hasn't done me no harm yet, though."

Miss Jo nodded her head. She looked at Daryl.

"Your objection isn't to her teaching, am I right?" Miss Jo asked. "You got no problem with her teaching in town?"

"No ma'am," Daryl said.

"And if she weren't expectin' then you'd let her just keep on doing what she's been doing all the same?" Miss Jo asked.

Daryl nodded.

"Yes ma'am," he responded.

"You think that Jubilee ain't a smooth enough ride? That it?" Miss Jo asked.

Daryl nodded his head again.

"She's a good ridin' mare," Daryl said. "But—it don't mean she don't got a certain bounce to her gait. And it don't mean she ain't never gonna spook."

"But the wagon doesn't worry you?" Miss Jo asked.

Daryl shrugged his shoulders and lifted his thumb to his mouth to nip at the skin there that he chewed at whenever he was working out some problem that was especially puzzling to him.

"Didn't," he said. "Unless you think it oughta."

"What I think is that Carol ought to take the wagon into town," Miss Jo said. "Then she gets to go to the schoolhouse just as she normally would and returns home just the same. She don't get jostled by the horse and you don't gotta worry about it. There's women work up until the birth of their children. I done it myself on the farm. An' there ain't no reason to think that Carol can't do the same if she's a mind to."

"Except Daryl can't part with the horses and the wagon for the whole of the day," Carol offered, already knowing why that particular suggestion wouldn't work. They had, after all, already discussed all of the possible compromises that their imaginations had to offer them.

"The he don't have to," Miss Jo said. "Because it won't be his wagon you'll be goin' to town in of a mornin' or ridin' back in of an evenin'."

"Beg pardon?" Hershel asked, nearly choking on his coffee. He gave into the coughing fit that his lungs requested and Miss Jo reached over and gently pounded him on the back to help him get up the liquid that had threatened to drown him. "Jo—I can't be without a wagon everyday neither."

"You don't gotta be," Miss Jo said with a smile. "Bethie ain't never finished her schoolin'. When Miss Farrows left to go for New York? Bethie stopped goin' and she never went back when they found another teacher."

"Because she's to be married," Hershel said. "And it's unnecessary."

"But Jimmy ain't asked her hand yet," Miss Jo responded. "And it won't hurt her to have an education. I could take the wagon into town of a morning with Carol and Bethie both. I could pick 'em up just the same and take care of what needs doing in town when I go. Carol could keep right on teachin' the children and our own daughter while she's going. When she finishes, she'd be set to take over for Carol so Carol could stop teachin' and focus on raisin' her own."

Carol glanced at Hershel's youngest daughter to see if she might protest. She didn't look like she would protest, but she didn't look like she was all for the suggestion either. She looked like she was trying to disappear from sight as surely as most of the other people seated at the table.

"Beth would take over as the teacher," Hershel said, his words coming out almost as a question and almost as a declaration of what he knew to be fact.

"If Carol was leavin' the role?" Miss Jo said, ignoring entirely that there was anyone present besides herself and her husband. "It'd take care of everything. Carol wouldn't be goin' back an' forth on her own. I could bring the wagon back so you weren't wantin' for it during the day. And Bethie would have a future even if it turns out that Jimmy don't ask her hand in marriage."

Hershel cleared his throat.

"Would you be wanting to teach, Beth? If the chance was there for you?" Hershel asked.

"Jimmy's been talkin' of marriage," Beth offered quietly.

"I weren't callin' into question the young man's intentions," Hershel clarified. "But he hasn't spoken to me about it yet, so I can't put my name to them either. Would you be wanting to teach?"

Beth looked at him and then looked at Carol before she returned her gaze to her father.

"If it wouldn't mean that I couldn't marry, then I would like teachin' as much as I'd like anything else, I suppose," Beth offered.

Maybe it was the best kind of declaration she could make about her possible future.

"Would it suit you, Carol?" Hershel asked. "What Jo sees fit to do?"

Carol nodded her head.

"I think it would be fine," Carol said. "The children wouldn't go without a teacher and I could help Beth the same as Evie helped me."

"Daryl?" Hershel asked. "It suits you?"

Daryl shrugged his his shoulders.

"Suits me fine," Daryl said. "Long as you don't think you'd be put out too much from missin' your wagon twice a day."

Hershel hummed to himself and glanced at his wife.

"It would seem that I'll be fine without it for the time that it takes," Hershel said. "It's settled then. Bethie? Make ready. You should be leaving soon to get to the school. And the rest of us have work to do."

"If it ain't no problem," Merle said quickly, "I believe I'ma catch a ride with the women. I got some things need seein' about in town."

Hershel frowned at him.

"You've work to do, son," Hershel said. "And if Carol isn't riding Jubilee into town anymore? We need to see about taking her down to meet up with that stallion and see how they get along."

Merle nodded his head.

"Promise my chores'll be done 'fore I call it a night," Merle said.

"An' I could stay to see about the stallion," Daryl said. "If it's all the same to you? There's a few things I was hopin' to talk to you about? Private like? What with us havin' a baby an' all."

Hershel sighed.

"Very well," he said. "Carol and Daryl? Congratulations. Carol? I'm sure motherhood'll suit you well. Merle—you're excused for the mornin'. But I expect your chores done before bed or your pay will be lessened accordingly. Daryl? Let's go see a stallion about a certain mare that might catch his eye."

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By the time they made it to the schoolhouse with Merle and Beth in the back of the wagon, most of the children were gone. The few that remained loitered around the small schoolyard and played games with one another while they waited to find out if their teacher was coming or not. As they approached, Miss Jo slowed the wagon. Merle was off the back of it before it had come to a full stop.

"If you've got somewhere to be," Miss Jo called at him, "I'd be fine to drop you there as soon as I've seen Carol an' Beth to the schoolhouse."

"My feet's workin' fine," Merle called back, never stopping his forward progress.

Miss Jo laughed to herself and shook her head.

"I never imagined when Daryl and Merle come to live with us that I'd regard them as my own boys," Miss Jo mused. "But it seems to be what's happened. I suppose he'll really be fine?"

"I've got a feeling he will," Carol offered.

"Elizabeth?" Miss Jo said.

"Yes, Mama?" Beth responded from the back of the wagon.

"Why don't you get the key from Carol and head on over to the schoolhouse. Tell the children that she'll be in shortly?" Miss Jo said.

Carol took the key from her pocket and offered it to the young woman. She had intended to go with her, but it seemed that Miss Jo had other ideas. And since the woman had offered to help her, she didn't think it proper to go against her wishes.

"Yes, Mama," Beth agreed, even as she got off the wagon. In silence, Carol and Miss Jo watched the young woman walking toward the schoolhouse before Miss Jo spoke again.

"I didn't have the opportunity this morning to tell you congratulations," Miss Jo said.

Carol smiled to herself.

"I knew you wished me well," Carol said. "Even if you didn't have the chance to say it."

"You'll be a fine mother," Miss Jo said with a nod of her head. "And Daryl will be a fine father."

"We don't hardly know nothin' about babies," Carol admitted.

"Don't hardly anyone know anything until they learn it," Miss Jo said. She laughed to herself. "You, of all people, ought to know that."

"I just meant that there's nobody to teach us," Carol said.

Miss Jo nodded her head.

"I believe you'll be able to muddle your way through," Miss Jo said. "And if you should find that you can't? I'm sure I can offer you some advice along the way."

"Any advice would be welcome," Carol said.

"My first piece of advice is don't worry it so," Miss Jo said. "Ridin' the horse might not be good for the baby, but neither is the worry. It's there. It made at just the time it was meant to make. It'll come at just the time it's meant to come. Don't worry it so much while you're waiting."

Carol smiled at her.

"Yes ma'am," Carol offered.

"And remember that your husband means well," Miss Jo said. "They always do. Even if they fall a little short of the mark sometimes. He's got the best of intentions."

Carol laughed to herself and nodded her head.

"I know that too," Carol said. "That's why I weren't mad at him. I know he wasn't sayin' no because he didn't want me to have what I wanted. He was sayin' no 'cause he wanted me to have what I needed. He was afraid the two just weren't compatible with one another."

"Then it seems to me that you don't hardly need my help," Miss Jo said, winking at Carol. "But just the same, I'm here to offer it if you should find you do."

"I appreciate it," Carol said. She got down off the wagon then, and turned back to look at Miss Jo, shading her eyes from the brightness of the sun now that it was fully awake. "I thank you for doing this. I know it's a lot to ask when you've got so much else on your plate."

"Nonsense," Miss Jo responded. "To speak honest? I don't have as much faith in Jimmy as I've got in my own boys. Since she quit I wished that Bethie would finish her schoolin'. That she'd have somethin' that's all her own. Bein' a teacher, I think, would suit her better'n bein' a seamstress and that's about all I got to teach her myself."

"Don't sell yourself short," Carol said. "You got more to offer than that."

"Get on in there," Miss Jo said. "I've got a mind to run to town. Check on Merle before I head back to make sure that he ain't into no trouble that he can't get out of."

Carol licked her lips. She shook her head gently at Miss Jo.

"I don't believe he's in no trouble," Carol said. "All the same, I imagine if you were to ride out toward the edge of town? You'd see where he's headed."

Miss Jo nodded her head.

"I believe you might be right," she said. "I'll see you both this afternoon."

With no more farewell than that, the old woman flicked the reins on the wagon and Carol stood and watched her as she drove it away—headed out in the direction that Merle had taken on foot. Then Carol turned and headed into the schoolhouse, ready to focus her attention on the students that had stayed for the day—and the young woman that would, hopefully, someday take her place as the teacher.