A/N Thank you so much my friends. Well geez, how can we get these two together? Let me work on that.

Remember, it's 1960. Some things really have changed for the better.

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First she tried scolding herself. She was being ridiculous and overly dramatic. For goodness sake, she barely even knows the guy. It isn't like they've been having a romance full of love and promises that suddenly and unexpectedly it ended.

They've never even been out, he's never kissed her, she doesn't know where he lives. She doesn't know his folks or anything about his family. My gosh she tells herself, grow up Beth.

The attempt at logical thinking wasn't working. Feelings are feelings and she couldn't help how she felt.

Still, she had to at least look like everything was fine and working as a waitress had helped her become accomplished at that. She knew how to put on a happy smile and a happy voice, even when her world wasn't a happy place at all.

She thought going to work Monday would make things easier. She wouldn't have time to think about Merle Dixon or how much she missed him, or how much she wished things could be different. She'd be far too busy for that nonsense.

Unfortunately, even though they were far busier than usual that Monday, she couldn't stay busy enough not to think about him. It was constant. She couldn't help but wonder, if she didn't have responsibilities would she have taken a chance on Merle?

Maybe.

Honestly? Probably.

Yes.

But the fact was, she did have responsibility and she wasn't blaming that responsibility for the sadness she felt. He was the best thing in her life and the reason that no matter what happened, no matter what went wrong, and no matter how lonely she got she just kept doing what had to be done.

But her heart was heavy.

She couldn't stop herself from hoping that Merle would show up on Friday. If he did, maybe she ought to just come right out and ask him about the things she'd heard. That seemed fair and like the right thing to do. The big question though, would he ever bother to come back? And if he did, would she have the nerve to ask him?

It turned out it didn't matter; he didn't stop in Cattle Rustlers on Friday or any other day. Beth was crushed.

She spent another busy but very lonely weekend being responsible, above all she hoped she was also being a loving person.

No matter what else she was doing, she couldn't shake the feeling she was missing out on something wonderful with Merle.

He got up early Monday morning anxious to get his ass to work. They had a ball buster of a week ahead and he was pretty damn glad about that. The busier the better. He wouldn't have time to think about her. The trouble was, that wasn't true. He discovered it didn't matter how busy he was or how hard he worked, she always seemed to be right there, front and center. Taking up space in his head and in his heart.

What the hell was wrong with him? Since when did he become such a puss? Shit, he'd been out with plenty of women. Sometimes he got tired of them first, sometimes they got tired of him first. He never got sad or heartbroken over that shit.

So why in the hell couldn't he just forget about her? He's never even held her, never kissed her, never gotten close with her. Besides, Beth isn't so special. She's just another pretty woman in a world full of pretty women.

He could spew that kind of shit all day long, but he couldn't make himself believe it.

It took every ounce of fight he had in him but he managed not to go to Cattle Rustlers on Friday. Why go? He'd only be a pain in her ass and he'd only end up hurting more.

It wasn't easy, but that weekend he kept busy working around his place and in his shop. He did some bookwork which he hated, and a few of the usual chores. It wasn't a good weekend but he managed to make it through.

When Monday morning came again he thought for sure he'd start to turn a corner. He tried faking it at first. He acted downright chipper, even stopping at the market to pick up some fresh donuts for his crew. The woman working in the bakery was new, and kind of pretty. She didn't wear a ring. Maybe he'd see about getting to know her better.

Probably not.

Daryl had been watching his brother hurting for over a week. By Wednesday he figured it was time to talk to Merle. He knew any attempt to cheer his brother up was probably a risky move, and there was the fact that Merle was in a mood the likes of which Daryl had never seen. Still he took a chance, "Hey brother, whaddya say we stop for a quick one after work?"

Merle had been thinking the same thing but he'd been planning to drink alone. Company would be better, "Sounds good little brother, I've been dry all day."

It was early December and the weather had turned cold and the dark skies came early, but they had some industrial floodlights on the job site and they just kept cranking out the work. It was nearly seven when they knocked off that Wednesday evening.

Daryl was regretting his suggestion they go for a beer. All he wanted to do was get home, get a hot shower and eat those leftover ribs he had in the fridge. Merle though, he was ready, "C'mon little brother, let's get ta Lucky's for that tall cold one."

Daryl wasn't inclined to go back on the invite, that would be a chickenshit thing to do. So he tried to act happy about going. They got their beers and a basket of peanuts and he gently broached the subject, "Ya seem kinda down Merle. Ya still feelin' bad about your girl?"

That hit Merle all wrong, "I ain't got a girl. She don't want nuthin' ta do with me."

Daryl took an even bigger chance then, "Well maybe ya oughta go see her and just flat out ask her why she don't like ya."

It was the first time in days Merle laughed. He clapped Daryl on the shoulder and said, "Little brother, a guy don't have ta be a genius ta figure out you're no ladies man."

That got Daryl feeling defensive and he bit back, "Yeah? Okay, I'll give ya that. But I also ain't the one cryin' in my beer, am I now?" Then he felt bad, shit. He was supposed to be trying to cheer the guy up, "Think about it Merle, it can't hurt ta lay your cards on the table. All the times ya asked her out she already knows ya like her, and ya said the way she looks at ya and stuff she must like you too. Why the hell not just ask her the real reason she don't wanna go out?"

Merle just stared at little brother for a minute. He might not know a lot about women, but the boy had more than his share of common sense.

Merle thought about it all that night. He thought about it all day and all night Thursday. He thought about it Friday morning.

The uniform belonged to the restaurant, not to her. The women who worked at Cattle Rustlers were under strict orders to leave the uniforms there, neatly hung in the closet. Too many had turned up missing. So, when Beth's shift ended she went to the lady's locker area to change into her street clothes.

She had her heels off, her vest off and had just finished unbuttoning her blouse when the bartender, Phillip, walked in so casually, as if he belonged in the lady's locker room. She let out a shriek as she quickly pulled her blouse closed and demanded, "What're you doing in here?!"

He had a creepy, lecherous smile and the nerve to answer, "I thought maybe I could help you get out of those clothes."

"Get out of here now or I'm telling!" She was trying to sound tough but she was shaking like a leaf and scared to death of what he had in mind.

He only smiled bigger as he started walking closer, licking his lips when he said, "Well since I'm the shift manager, why don't you tell me all about it."

She knew for certain then, he wasn't going to simply leave her alone. The only thing that saved her was one of the night waitresses on duty, a woman named Andrea came walking in and said, "I don't know what kind of hanky panky you're up to in here, but there's a bunch of empty cocktail glasses out there and their owners aren't happy."

He cast an evil little grin toward Beth, turned and headed back to the bar. Andrea looked sympathetic like she knew exactly what had happened. Then she shrugged and made a suggestion, "He's an asshole. I prop the chair under the door handle when I'm in here, it discourages that creep. At least a little."

After the incident in the ladies locker Beth made a decision, the owner would be in the next day and she would tell him what happened. Surely he would speak to Phillip and the bartender would leave her alone.

Thursday when the boss showed up she asked if they could talk and the man, a fellow named Gareth, said, "Sure Sweetie, c'mon in my office."

She was so nervous she thought she'd be sick, maybe she shouldn't tell. But how was she ever going to feel comfortable changing her clothes before and after every shift? So she did her best to swallow her nerves and she told the owner exactly what happened.

The man smiled, "C'mon Sweetie, you know how guys are. You should feel flattered, but if it bothers you I'll have a word with him. In the meantime, you just keep being sweet."

The way he spoke was almost as upsetting as the way Phillip behaved, and she knew she'd simply been dismissed. She was hurt, angry and fighting tears but she didn't show it. She needed the work. She also made up her mind about something, as soon as she had the chance she'd be out looking for a new job.

Thursday evening she took her things in the ladies powder room and changed in a stall. It was squished and there was no place to set anything down, but it was better than taking a chance on Phillip walking in.

Friday was worse. She was at the cocktail station ordering drinks for the customers and he started rubbing his hand up and down her arm, "How about I take you out after work? We'll go have a couple drinks down at Georgie's, then we'll go back to my place and I'll show you a real nice time."

She swallowed all the things she wanted to say and the names she wanted to call him and simply answered, "I can't, I have someplace I have to be right after work."

He didn't give up quite that easy. As he loaded the drink order on her tray he whispered with a smile, "C'mon now Sweetie, whoever you're seeing after work won't show you half of what I've got for you."

She quickly picked up the tray and hurried to deliver the drinks.

Like so many women she asked herself why men are allowed to behave so badly? She knew the answer, it's a man's world and she had to put up with it if she wanted to put food on her table.

She felt relief when her shift was over. All she wanted was to get out, get her groceries and ride out the storm she heard was already getting nasty. She grabbed her things from the locker room and hurried to the powder room.

They'd heard there was a big storm coming but you know the weatherman. He never seems to get things right so Merle wasn't too concerned. Then early that afternoon it came out of nowhere. It felt like the temperature dropped 30 degrees in just a couple of minutes and a bitter wind whipped up.

He wasn't going to take a chance on his crew getting hurt. He told them, "Ya get what ya need on the way home, then stay in with your families this weekend. I want everyone healthy and ready to work first thing Monday mornin'."

No one argued, the way it felt outside they couldn't wait to get home, and shit, the boss was paying them for the whole day.

As soon as the crew was on their way Merle was on his. He'd made up his mind. Shitty weather or not, he was making a trip over to Cattle Rustlers to talk to Beth. Brother was right, why not just ask her? Maybe they could work it out.

He made a fast stop at the grocery store for some weekend supplies, who knew how bad it would get, and headed home. He quickly put the food away, took a shower and dressed in a warm flannel shirt, heavy jeans and his boots. He grabbed his Carhartt jacket and was just about to walk out the door when his phone rang.

It was one of those tough decisions. He wanted to get to her, but dammit, business is business and those were the only kind of phone calls he got, besides Daryl once in a great while. He'd better answer.

He picked up the receiver and sure enough it was the fat cat. The man had a million questions about how the job was going. He kept Merle on the phone forever but what could he do? The fat cat was paying the big bucks for his palace on the hill, part of Merle's job was to baby the guy along.

He didn't mind talking to the guy but shit, now that they'd finally hung up it was close to the end of her shift. He'd have to make good time if he hoped to see her, and in this weather that didn't seem likely.

By the time he pulled in the lot the snow was coming down as heavy as he could ever remember seeing it, and he knew he was probably too late. She'd been off shift for more than 15 minutes, still he'd check. He was just opening his pickup door when he saw her hurrying out of the restaurant.

At first he smiled, then he saw she was trying to get away from that creepy bartender. As Merle hurried that way the bartender grabbed her by the arm and pulled her close. He was trying to kiss her and she was trying to break free, turning her face from him while also making every effort to push him away with her hands.

That's when Merle got to them.

He pulled her away from the guy, and barked, "Stay back Beth," as he grabbed the bartender and wrapped his big hand tight around the asshole's throat. He lifted him clean off his feet and slammed the creep into the side of the building hard enough to knock the wind out of him. Merle snarled, "Ya keep your filthy fuckin' hands offa her asshole or I'll make ya wish you had."

Then he dropped him like a rock and slugged him hard in the belly. At first Phillip acted like he might fight back, but he thought twice and wisely hurried back inside.

When Merle turned to Beth she was shaken and her eyes were teary, then she stunned him as she wrapped her arms around his waist and said, "Thank you Merle, thank you." She pulled away just as quickly, she couldn't be late, "I'm sorry I have to hurry off, but I have to be somewhere in ten minutes and the weather's so terrible."

He nodded, "Lemme walk ya to your car." He had every intention of asking for her phone number when they got that far. Maybe she'd give it to him, maybe he could at least call her and they could talk.

He held her door as she got in the old car, but when she cranked the ignition the engine wouldn't turn over. It didn't make a sound. Normally he'd take a look under the hood but this was not the time. It was cold, dark and snowing to beat all hell. On top of that she had tears in her eyes.

He offered, "C'mon, we'll lock it up. I'll give ya a ride wherever ya gotta go."

It would be ridiculous not to take him up on his offer. They hurried to his pickup, he helped her in and when he slid in his side he asked, "Where to?"

She bit her lip, looked in his eyes and answered, "I have to pick up my little boy at the babysitter. If I'm five minutes late the sitter charges me for an extra hour."

He tried not to let on how taken aback he was. Sure, there were single women with kids out there, plenty of them. Merle never got involved with those women, and he had no intention of starting now. But he would get her and her child home safe, he only said, "Okay, just give me directions."

The snow was starting to stick pretty good so he was going to walk her to the babysitter's door, but she insisted it was better if she went alone, "She would…well let's just say she can be a little judgmental, but she takes very good care of Tommy so I can't complain."

Still he hurried around to her side of the pickup, opened the door, helped her down and stood there waiting. All he could think was that when she wouldn't agree to date him he didn't know he was dodging a bullet. He'd never wanted a steady woman, let alone taking on a woman with a kid. Nope. Not his style.

He watched as Beth knocked on the door of the small house and a woman answered. She was holding a little fella already in his coat and ready to go. Beth reached in her pocket and handed the woman what was probably most of the tip money she'd made that day. The woman handed Beth the little boy and she came hurrying back and he thought she looked so small carrying the child.

Merle grabbed the boy from her and lifted him in the truck, then helped her up. He got in and watched as the boy's Mama hugged him and told the child how much she'd missed him while she was at work, then introduced him to Merle. "Tommy, this nice man is Merle Dixon, he gave me a ride and he's going to take us home."

The little boy looked over at Merle like he was a little scared of him. How could the child or his Mama know Merle was far more scared of Tommy than the boy was of him. All he knew about kids is that a man like him didn't have any business being around them. The men in his family weren't cut out to be Daddies.

It was uncomfortably silent on the drive to Beth's. Nobody spoke except for her giving him directions. Merle was unnerved, tense and in need of getting home to his own place where there was a six pack waiting in the fridge, and no kids.

He followed her directions until they pulled in front of her place. It was an old craftsman that had been turned into four rental units. Beth's entrance was around the back and he held her arm while he walked her and the child to the door. Maybe he didn't want any part of this mess but he was still going to be a gentleman.

Once inside she set the little guy down and removed his coat, and the boy made a beeline for a toy truck and started playing. Beth apologized to Merle, "I'd like to offer you dinner, but it wouldn't be much. Tommy and I usually stop at the store Friday on our way home. I'm sure I can find something though."

That sounded like family life to him and all he could think about was getting the hell out of there. Still he couldn't leave her without wheels, "Nah, that's real kind but I gotta be somewhere. I tell ya what, if ya give me the key me n my brother will check on your car tomorrow. My kid brother is kind of a genius at making things run."

She knew exactly why he'd suddenly become so disinterested, most men didn't care to get involved with women who already have children. She didn't comment, she simply handed him the key and said, "Thank you. I'll pay for whatever it costs."

"Don't worry about it. You take care now. Keep the door locked." He could see the tears in her eyes, but dammit, no way. This was shit he didn't want or need.

He drove off feeling kind of angry and real confused, and his heart hurt. He only got about three blocks from her place when he pulled in the lot of a small diner. He rested his forehead on the steering wheel, sighed deeply and thought to himself, "What the fuck is the matter with you ya asshole? You're crazy about this woman, but what? Now that ya know there's more ta her than just a good time, ya don't give a shit no more? Ya fuckin' shithead."

Merle could see the guy inside the diner just locking the door. He quickly jumped from the pickup, hurried over and knocked on the glass. The fellow opened it far enough to say, "Sorry Mister, we're closing up. This storm's gonna bury us."

Merle thought fast, "Ya must have some food already made up, I'd buy that and just carry it out."

The guy couldn't resist that offer, he was going to have to throw away most of what was supposed to have been the evening special. It would be a blessing if he could sell it instead. He opened the door wide and said, "Alright. Let's be fast."

Once inside Merle told him, "I need enough dinner for three people. Whatever the special is would be just fine. Whatever ya got." Then it occurred to him, "If ya got it ta spare I could use some breakfast stuff too. A pound or so of bacon, some eggs and biscuits or bread, some a them little cartons of milk and maybe potatoes." As the guy quickly filled containers and set them in a cardboard box, Merle spotted the little glass front cabinet and said, "And one a them pies, cherry if ya got it, some a that Jell-o too."

The man handed over the box full of food and Merle handed over the cash.

He drove back to her place and carried the box to her door. When he knocked he heard her sweet voice call, "Who is it?"

"It's Merle."

She opened the door, obviously surprised as she looked up at him with those sad, red-rimmed eyes. Merle figured that was on him. She had a heavy burden and he could have been a whole lot nicer. He didn't wait for an invitation, he walked in, set the box on the kitchen table and turned to her. He gently cupped her face in strong hands and simply said, "Let me help."

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A/N Well. Please leave a comment and let me know your thoughts. There's a chapter photo on my tumblr blogs gneebee and bethylmethbrick. Please check it out. I'll be back next Saturday with another chapter of Let Me Help and I hope to see you then. In the meantime remember, I love ya large! xo gneebee