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Chapter Three.
She would think that now that she knew the man – Daryl – was awake and conscious, she wouldn't sleep well but as always, as soon as the sun set and her day was done, Beth fell asleep inside of the locked house and slept all night without issue. Maybe it was because she had his knives and crossbow with her. Or maybe it was because she saw that his shoulder was still hurting him plenty and she thought he probably couldn't do that much damage. It was perhaps naïve on her part but as always, at the end of the day, Beth was too exhausted to dwell on it.
She slept without dreams as she almost always did. Usually, by the time nighttime came, Beth had worked so hard that day, she fell into a deep, hard sleep and didn't dream – which was a blessing she was always thankful for. Just the idea of dreaming – of seeing her family and the farm and all of her friends again in her mind – she already knew she wouldn't be able to handle that. Life was hard enough these days, surviving while also trying to live, the last thing she needed was an onslaught of memories just absolutely haunting her.
As always, she woke up at dawn with the first of the birds outside beginning to chirp and the instant her eyes were open, she was wide awake. Before everything, she hadn't been a morning person and her mom and daddy said it was because she was going through puberty and no one was a morning person during that stage of their life. Of course, Maggie and Shawn were both far out of puberty and would have slept well into the late morning/early afternoon if they weren't living on a farm and animals depended on them to wake up and feed them.
When she did allow herself to think of and remember her family, Beth wondered if she would had ever become a morning person like her parents or if she would be like her older brother and sister and just love sleep. None of that mattered now, of course. Now, she woke up with the sun and she didn't even think about sleeping in. There was always too much to do not to mention that it just wasn't safe. Walkers and surviving people alike could bring her death. It probably wasn't safe that she slept so deeply at night but there were few pleasures left in the world and she worked so hard. She should be allowed the comfort of a good sleep.
She went about her morning routine. Yes, she made the bed every morning. It had been a habit since she was a small girl when her parents deemed her old enough for chores and it was still one instilled in her. The world might have ended but there was nothing wrong with a neat and tidy bed. Once that was done, she went into the bathroom to empty herself into the bucket. She needed to empty and clean this out today so the house didn't get that "pee" smell to it. She then went back into the bedroom to get dressed. When Daryl had been unconscious and his body healing and resting, Beth had gone to the creek in the woods to bathe. She didn't know if it was actually a creek. It wasn't big enough to be a river but it was deep enough for her to submerge herself completely under the water if she wanted. A stream, maybe? She just called it a creek. It came down from the mountains and gave clean water and was the definition of a life-saver. With her hair clean, Beth stood at the dresser with the mirror hanging above it. She parted it and gave herself two braided pigtails today. She smiled when through the reflection, she saw the cat jump silently onto the bed and began to paw around in circles. The bedroom felt a bit warm already so Beth tugged on a fresh pair of underpants and her bra along with a pair of sweatpants and a tee-shirt. She wasn't going to be doing anything today except be on her hands and knees, weeding, and she didn't want to wear the knees of her jeans out. Though absolutely nothing was put to waste anymore, she would feel better ruining a pair of sweatpants than jeans.
Once dressed, Beth went to the bed and gave the cat a good rub on his head and back, which the cat allowed and approved of with a deep purr. She had slept with the windows closed – because of Daryl and not wanting him to figure out how to take down the screens if that's what he wanted to do – and she tugged them open now. Yes, the breeze outside today was warmer than just yesterday. Summer was fast approaching and Beth was looking forward to it. Her planting was done and with the rain, roots were taking hold and now, she got to watch everything grow. Last winter, she had survived but it had been a rough-go. She hadn't had enough crops to get her through so once she ate her apples and few tomatoes, she survived with granola bars and stale boxes of Pop-Tarts she had found. There were also cans of tomato soup and saltine crackers so yes, she had been able to eat at least once a day but she had definitely lost weight those months.
Beth didn't want to go through another winter like that and she was NOT going to go through another winter like that. Not this year. This year, she had planted more and she was going to make it.
Before getting herself breakfast, she opened the back door, the cat darting out from next to her, and stepped out onto the back deck. Hmmmm. Red sky, she noted. Very red sky. It was going to rain again today. Obviously, she had no complaints about that but it did cut into the plans she had made for the day. She didn't want the weeds to get out of control and wanted to stay on top of it. She would pull up as many as she can before the rain came.
She looked down the lawn to the tent against the back fence. It hadn't been easy to get him in there, to put it lightly. She had gone into the house and taken a comforter from the closet which she had then rolled him onto. She then managed to drag the comforter with him on it into the yard, grunting and sweating the whole way. Once inside the backyard, she breathed with relief because at least the fence's gate was closed and now, she wouldn't have to worry about a walker coming up on and taking a chunk out of one of them. She then gathered what she would need. She had worked on building a massive first-aid kit ever since she settled here and this obviously was more than first-aid but she actually had everything she would need. She had seen her daddy do plenty of surgeries – on animals, yes, but that didn't matter. The general idea was the same.
She was proud of herself – insanely proud – for getting the bullet out of his shoulder. She made sure to clean the wound thoroughly and wash away the blood and dirt before applying the charcoal. She sewed it up tight and she wished someone was there to pat her on the back because she had done a damn good job on this man's shoulder. She had a tent in the garage that she had found and had brought with her in case of emergencies and she took the time to set it up against the fence. She wasn't even going to think about bringing this stranger into her house with her. He would be just fine out here in this tent and she could check on him just as easily. And even if she did want him in the house, she had no idea how she would get him up the back deck steps.
Daryl. She obviously didn't know anything about him and yet, the name, somehow, seemed to fit him. The way he talked – his accent and drawl – showed to her that he was a Southern man through and through. She hadn't heard another human's voice in so long. There were full days in a row when Beth, herself, didn't talk so there was some level of strange comfort in his voice. She had lived a past life, surrounded by that particular kind of accent and she liked hearing it again.
That didn't mean that she wanted him to linger. She meant what she said. His shoulder should be good enough in a couple of days without needing any further medical attention or assistance and then he would be able to leave. He would be leaving. Beth had done just fine for herself and everything she saw was hers. She had bled and sweated for it and she wasn't ready to share it.
She jumped when the back gate suddenly opened and her hand flew to the knife at her side. It was Daryl and he stopped in his tracks when he saw her standing on the deck. He stepped into the yard and made sure the gate closed securely behind him, the latch and lock catching.
"Was takin' a piss," he said and she nodded, having already assumed that.
"I need to take a look at your shoulder and then I'll make us something for breakfast," she said.
Daryl nodded and then hesitated, clearly wondering where he should go. Beth swept her hand towards one of the benches at the table on the deck and he gave a single nod, crossing the grass to come towards her. He sat down and Beth went to him. She felt nervous though she didn't know why. She was armed. He wasn't. But his arms were visibly muscular and though she had developed her own muscles since having to leave the farm and being on her own, her own strength wouldn't be a match for his. If he wanted to disarm her and take her knife, he could.
When she didn't move, Daryl – his eyes cast down – lifted them to look at her. Beth looked at him and still didn't move and didn't say anything. If he had wanted to overpower her, he could have easily done it yesterday when she was at the fire, making pancakes. Actually, any time last night, he could have taken control over her. And yes, her house had been locked up but if he had been determined to get inside to get his weapons and to get her out of the way, he could. But he hadn't. He had slept in his tent all night and he still didn't look like he was looking to harm her.
She wasn't used to being around people anymore and she certainly didn't trust them. She just needed to be careful. Extra careful.
"I need you to take your shirt off," Beth said.
She had seen the scars on his torso and the ones all over his back when she had been cleaning him. She had been hopelessly naïve and she had been blessed enough to live a sheltered life before everything ended but she wasn't a complete idiot. She knew what those scars were. There was really only one thing those scars could be. She didn't know anything about this man and who he was but those scars still told her plenty. And the way Daryl hesitated, it practically confirmed her silent suspicions.
"Take your arm out and hold the shirt up," Beth then suggested.
Daryl gave a nod and did as she said. He pulled his arm from the shirt sleeve and then brought the shirt up so his shoulder was revealed. So much of his chest was exposed now and Beth's eyes dipped down to look at it before she could stop herself. He was lean but muscular and she didn't mean to look at his chest. She really didn't. It was just right there in front of her. She wasn't even going to think of how nice of a chest it was because what the Hell was that all about?
She gently pulled the bandage back to look at the stitches and salve. It looked good if she did say so herself. "Stay," she told him and went back inside for just a minute before coming back outside with the plastic container that was her first-aid kit. Daryl sat still as she cleaned the salve and the stitches, making sure it was disinfected and then patted dry. She put a fresh thin spread of honey and charcoal and then covered it with a fresh bandage, pressing it down onto his skin.
"How's it lookin'?" He asked.
"Good," she confirmed with a nod. "Is it itching?"
"Like a bitch." Beth smiled at that and began to clean up as Daryl put his tee-shirt on right again.
She didn't tell him that that meant it was healing. Someone with so many scars would already know that and again, she knew nothing about this man but even if he didn't have so many scars, she had the feeling that he would know that all the same. In this new world, people had to learn things rather quickly and there was very little room for error.
"I have a barrel where I burn my trash. I'm going to put your bandage in there but there's not enough to light a fire yet," she explained to him. "When I get back, I'll get us breakfast. I usually just have apples and a granola bar if I can spare one."
"That sounds good," he said quietly, his eyes cast down again. "If you need any meat, I hunt."
That made Beth pause in her clean-up. Meat. It had been a very long time since she had had meat and no, she wasn't counting that can of SPAM she had had so many months ago and the beef jerky long before that. She had tried to set some traps but she had never had any luck with those. She was able to fish though and would often grill the fish over the fire. There seemed to be plenty of fish in the stream but she made sure she didn't fish too much. She didn't want to decimate her supply. Logically, she knew she could fish every day and never run out but there was never anything wrong with being too careful and being too hopeful to think ahead.
She thought of how it would be, actually eating a piece of meat again, but she knew what Daryl would need to get that meat. She shook her head. "I can't give you your crossbow," she told him.
"It ain't yours," Daryl frowned.
"It's not but you don't seem that stupid. You have to understand why I'm not giving it to you," she matched his frown with her own. "And if I give it to you, you're leaving and not coming back. You're up and moving. Your shoulder isn't going to kill you. You can leave anytime."
"Get me my stuff," he said without hesitating.
Beth took her first-aid container back into the house and returned a minute later with his crossbow and knives. She didn't hand them to him though. She walked past him and down the yard to the back gate. She could feel him following behind her. Far off in the distance, she could hear the rumble of thunder and both she and Daryl looked up to the sky. Clouds were moving in. Damn it. The rain was coming so much sooner than she had planned. She looked to Daryl. The wind had shifted, too, and with it, the temperature was already dropping.
She couldn't send him out in this. He was alive and he wasn't going to die, yes, but his shoulder was still hurt. He could get horribly sick if caught out in weather like this and then what? Would she be alright with him catching a fever and dying? She had dragged his body into her yard in the first place because she hadn't been able to let him die so why would she be alright with it now? No matter how long she had kept herself away and been separated from people – wanting to be on her own because it was safer that way – she still cared about people.
She looked away from Daryl to look back up to the sky. The thunder and dark clouds grew closer. She honestly didn't even want him to stay in the tent. It would keep him dry – yes – but it would do nothing to keep him warm and if he got sick, it would be hard for her to break his fever. She just didn't have the things needed to do that and she might not have wanted him armed anywhere near her but she didn't want him to die. For some reason, she didn't want him to die. Again, she thought of her daddy. She was Hershel Greene's daughter. And she knew what that meant and what she had to do.
Without a word, she turned and carried Daryl's crossbow and knives back towards the house. The cat, having sensed the change in weather and the storm to come was already inside, sitting just inside the door.
"We have to eat breakfast inside," she said and that was all she said.
She went inside and went to go put his weapons into the front hall closet where she had been keeping them. She then came back into the kitchen to get them apples for breakfast. She had a few containers of oats but she always seemed too afraid to touch them; wanting to save them for a rainy day. Well… maybe that rainy day had finally come. It could be cooked with water – not as good as with milk but it could be done – and maybe oatmeal and apples for breakfast wouldn't be the worst thing to eat. It honestly sounded delicious. And since Daryl was still, technically, recovering, she should make sure she fed him well before she sent him off on his way.
As she held the container of oats, studying them, staring at them, trying to decide if this morning was finally the morning she would finally open it, from the corner of her eye, she saw Daryl. He took a hesitant step forward and stopped himself just inside. She watched him as he looked around at the home she had been able to make for herself in the couple of years she had been here. It felt unsettling to have someone else in here with her. She took a deep breath. It wouldn't be forever. Feed him, let the storm pass and then send him on his way.
Daryl's eyes landed on her and Beth tried to keep her stomach tightening with nerves. Could he see how everything she was? Scared. Nervous. Unsettled and unsure. He was inside and inside of this house, inside of her fenced in yard, was her entire world. She still didn't know if he would try to take it all from her.
Beth took another deep breath and held up the container of oats. "Do you like oatmeal?"
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THANK YOU! You are all so awesome.