Carol began to stir from her afternoon nap. She'd been up half the night last night helping the doctor to deliver Maggie's baby and then helping Maggie to learn to breast feed it, because Hershel Glenn Rhee was a creature more stubborn than his own mother. He didn't seem to want to latch on. They'd gotten him to eat by sunrise, though, using a few tricks Carol remembered from Sophia's baby days. She'd come home feeling like the hole in her heart, which Sophia had left in her absence, had grown another two sizes, and she'd cried herself to sleep in the empty bed, glad Daryl wasn't home to see her tears.

But now Daryl was home, apparently, because she could feel something wet against her cheek. What was he doing? Licking her awake? He probably wanted sex. Usually he just poked her awake with his hard-on in the morning, like the Casanova he was. She might complain about his style, but she usually had sex with him anyway, because, frankly, it felt good, and apparently a woman's sexual peak was not in her thirties. Right now, though, she wasn't in the mood at all. "Stop!" she hissed and rolled over. She opened her eyes but did not stare into Daryl's blue ones. A small pair of brown eyes looked out at her.

"Yip!"

Startled, Carol sat straight up and almost reached for her handgun on the nightstand before she realized it was just a puppy. An adorable, little brown puppy, squirming in Daryl's hand. "Ya like 'em?" Daryl asked. "Gonna raise 'em up to be a bird dog. Use 'em to hunt pheasant and ducks."

Carol looked at the dog skeptically. "You'll have to feed it."

"Tex gave me lots of puppy chow. There was a shitload in the Sanctuary. He took it all 'cause he was the only one with dogs."

She reached out and scratched the pup behind its ears. "I guess we can always eat it if we run out of food."

Daryl drew the puppy away from her, cuddled it to his chest, and kissed its head. "Shhhh! Don't listen to the mean lady." The puppy licked his face, and Daryl jerked away before setting it down on the bed, where it yipped and scurried from Carol to Daryl and back to Carol, finally choosing to curl itself up against her side. "He likes ya, even if ya want to eat him."

Carol smiled. "Well, I like you even when you want to eat me. Especially when you want to eat me."

"Yeah?"

"Not now."

Daryl frowned.

"I'm tired. Maggie had her baby last night."

"Heard when I got in," Daryl said. "Hershel's a weird name for a kid."

"She's going to call him H.G. I think."

"Even weirder."

Carol yawned.

"Goin' back to sleep?"

She nodded. He reached for the puppy. "Leave it!" she commanded, and Daryl backed off slowly.

[*]

Carol walked back and forth before the fireplace holding H.G. lightly in her arms. Maggie had been overwhelmed with visitors the first two weeks after his birth. She'd finally told everyone to butt out, but she never minded when Carol came by. Maggie was learning a lot from the former mother.

Last week, Daryl and Rick had brought over Judith's old crib and set it up at the foot of Maggie's bed for her. Judith was in a toddler bed now, which was working out fine, except for the fact that the little girl went roving in the night. Rick had installed a sturdy gate at the top of the stairs, which Daryl, it was rumored, had tripped over more than once trying to step over it rather than open it.

Since households had been combined to save energy, Maggie was now staying in a four-bedroom house with Sasha, Rosita, and Dianne, the refugee from the Saviors' harem. Dianne was beautiful, but a little off socially. Rosita thought it was because of the horror she went through with the Saviors, but Maggie suspected she'd probably always been like that. "She talks about science-related things constantly and doesn't seem to notice when people get bored," Maggie complained to Carol now.

"Sounds like Eugene."

"She and Eugene should get together, and then she can move in with him and Eric. Why do they get that whole big house to themselves?"

"Because all the construction workers are afraid to live with a gay guy," Carol quipped. All of the houses were full except Eric and Eugene's and the completely empty houses they had shut up for the time being.

The doorbell sounded, and Carol returned the baby to its mother's arms.

"Don't let them in," Maggie pleaded. "No more visitors, please."

"I'll get rid of whoever it is," Carol assured her.

Maggie sighed with relief and popped a fussy H.G. onto her breast to nurse, but Carol didn't get rid of the visitor. She led him into the living room, saying, "Sorry, but this one's come a long way."

Maggie quickly covered up with a blanket while Tex temporarily averted his eyes. He took off his cowboy hat and began fiddling with it before he looked back. "I was here to drop off some pork and get some penicillin, and I thought I'd stop by and see the baby. If you don't want to be bothered. I understand. I'll - "

"No," Maggie said. "Have a seat. Stay."

"I'm going to head over to the green house," Carol told her. "Need to check on my winter tomatoes."

Maggie nodded to her as she left, and Tex swung a backpack off his shoulder and sat down in the arm chair.

He unzipped the pack. "Brought you a few things."

"Thanks for the Baby Bjorn you sent with Daryl. I probably can't use it for a couple more months, but it will definitely come in handy."

"Sure." He pulled out a tiny cowboy hat and set it on the coffee table.

Maggie laughed. "Oh my God. That's adorable."

"Got him the vest, too. It's for six months." He put that on the coffee table.

"Where did you find that?"

"It was in the ranch. I think the original owner's wife was expecting."

"Don't tell me they had tiny chaps, too."

"Alas, no chaps, but…" He pulled out a little pair of cowboy boots.

"No way. Are those snakeskin?"

Tex chuckled and sat back in the chair.

H.G. had fallen asleep against her breast, so Maggie pulled him off, rebuttoned her shirt under the blanket, and then tossed it off. She rubbed the baby's little back gently. "How long are you staying for?"

"Just the night. Eric and Eugene are giving me a room in their house."

"Did Isaac and Malik come with you?"

He nodded. "They were also offered a room in Eric's house, but I suspect they'll be staying here? With Sasha and Rosita?"

"I suspect," Maggie agreed. "I'll have to cover H.G.'s innocent little ears tonight."

[*]

Rick blew out smoke from the cigar, looked it over, and said, "This is good. Is it a Cuban?"

Tex tossed a poker chip on the kitchen table, and, around his own cigar, said, "Yep."

"Do you have a humidor?" Rick asked.

"Yep."

"Are you boys really smoking inside the house?" Michonne asked as she walked into the kitchen, jerked open the fridge, and pulled out a Diet Coke.

"Too dam cold outside," Daryl answered. He blew a ring of smoke in her direction and then saw Tex's raise with a chip from his own pile.

"Why are you smoking cigars at all," Michonne asked, "when you know you can trade them to Gregory at the Hilltop for something useful?"

"It's tradition," Tex insisted. "A baby was born."

"Two weeks ago," Michonne told him, "and none of you are the father."

"We's all the fathers," Daryl told her. "That's a communal baby."

"Well, good," came Carol's voice from the entryway. "Then you can start changing some of his diapers."

Daryl waved her away. "Kitchen belongs to the men. Out."

"Even better," Carol told him. "Then I guess you're cooking dinner tonight, too?"

Daryl raised the glass of whiskey that sat before his pile of chips. "Havin' a liquid dinner tonight."

"Then we're having a girl's night," Michonne said as she joined Carol in the entryway. "I'll round up the others. You hire the Chippendales."

When the women left the kitchen, Daryl asked, "What the hell they talkin' 'bout Disney chipmunks for?"

Rick snorted. A little whiskey came out his nose.

"Not Chip N' Dale," Tex said. "Chippendales."

Daryl was no less confused.

"They're male strippers," Rick explained.

"For gay guys or somethin'?" Daryl threw his hand down. "I fold."

"And for women," Tex answered. "I'll see you and raise you five."

Rick called his bet with a chip from his pile.

"Women like that?" Daryl asked.

"They love it when they tear off their costumes," Rick said. "I hear cops are the most popular."

"No, no," Tex insisted. "Cops are only number two. Cowboys are number one."

"Pretty sure cops are more popular than cowboys," Rick said.

"How much do you want to bet on that?"

"Would y'all shut up," Daryl grumbled. "And turn over yer damn cards?"

Tex and Rick turned their hands up on the table, and Tex raked the pile of chips toward himself.

"Daryl," Rick said, "remind me never to pay Texas Hold 'Em with a native Texan."

"I was actually born and raised in California," Tex admitted. "On my parents' boutique vineyard. I didn't move to Texas until I was fourteen, when my father gambled away his fortune. But don't tell anyone that." He dealt another hand.

[*]

Carol had almost fallen asleep when Daryl crawled - literally, on his hands and knees, after tripping over his crossbow on the floor and cursing - into bed. She could tell by the way the mattress shifted. But then he turned and sat. Short sharp grunts rose out of him as he struggled with his boots. One clunked against the floor and the other hit the wall.

Daryl rolled onto his side. "Down at the end of the bed, Merle!" he growled. "That's my woman!" The puppy, which was curled up against Carol's back as she lay facing outward, yipped and scurried down to the bottom of the bed where he settled in at Daryl's feet.

"I think you named him Merle just so you could enjoy ordering him around," Carol said.

Daryl's arm fell heavily over her waist. She could smell the whiskey on his breath as he whispered in her ear, "Wanna fool 'round?"

"I doubt you're in any condition to get it up."

"Take care of ya though." He licked her cheek. When she squirmed away and wiped it, he laughed. "Good night with the girls?" he asked. "Y'all like the strippers?"

"How much did you drink?"

"Who's number one with the ladies? Cowboys or cops? C'mon. Tell me. Got a case of .22 ammo ridin' on it."

"Neither," Carol answered. "It's firemen."

"Damn. Don't know who wins the bet then."

"Sounds like you had a good time."

He kissed her neck. "I'll start yer fire."

Carol chuckled. He was quiet for long enough that she thought he may have passed out. But then he suddenly whispered, in a quick, confidential tone, as though he had some important piece of news to share, "Psst. Hey! Carol."

"What?"

"I love ya."

Daryl didn't say those three little words, at least he hadn't since his big speech at her house outside the Kingdom, when he'd said he loved them all, and her most of all. She knew he loved her, but he wasn't a man to say the words. She was a little stunned. "I love you, too, Daryl."

"Mhmhm. Merle! Quit lickin' my feet." And then he was out.