"I'm here, Daryl! What is it you need my help with?" Beth asks, jumping out of her truck and onto the grounds at the Grimes Farm. She glances at the stables at the end of the long drive, wondering if maybe Daryl had called to request she groom up the mare before her daddy and brother arrived, but surprisingly, those stables are empty.

Daryl's standing with his back to her, near the end of that driveway, kicking around impressively-sized swirls of dust. She gets lost for a moment, staring at the wings of the angel-demon etched into the leather of the vest he's wearing, and the curve of his muscled upper arms and shoulders, shadowed intricately by the bright summer sun of the morning.

"Uh – Daryl? Where's the horse?" Beth asks a bit louder, wondering if he'd heard her. "Not sure daddy and Sean will be able to get the annual done without it. The animal, I mean. The horse, you know?"

Daryl turns toward her, then, hands on his hips, and looks up at her through his mini-dust-tornado, and without warning – if warnings even exist for such things – he smirks. It encompasses his entire face. His eyes and chest and body.

It inexplicably causes a sudden jolt inside of her, climbing through sparks of invisible light from the tips of her toes to the tops of her thighs, that smirk. It's a little irresistible, maybe a little sexy, and she finds the mischief forming there in his blue eyes completely contagious.

The vivid flashes of that smirk are still there in his voice when he finally responds, "There's a bit of a problem – damn horses must prefer ol' Ed."

Xxx

As Beth processes the smirk and the sparks and the sudden childish feeling of excitement and sudden nausea brewing inside of her, the old-as-sin door to the house creaks, low and loud.

"Rick!" Beth shouts it after an almost-comical delay, tripping over her own feet as she moves across the dusty wasteland of the drive.

She finally crosses the width of distance in what feels like only a few bounding, uncoordinated steps and crushes herself into the tall, lean man's arms, hugging him tightly. He intercepts her mid-air, and the force of it causes him to take a quick step or two backward on the concrete porch outside the old, large country home.

"Beth," he sighs into her hair. "Ain't you a sight for sore eyes, little Miss Greene!" He looks her over, spinning her in a few tight circles.

Beth detaches herself from him and stands back, still gripping his tanned, muscled forearms. It's been too long since she's been able to see him and his wife, Lori, and their son, Carl, who Beth used to babysit. These people are her family, though not borne of blood or law or anything quite so superficial or obvious.

"It is so good to see you, Rick! You guys have got to come to daddy's for supper soon, please! Where's Carl? Is Lori here?"

Rick is still smiling as he shrugs and shakes his head. "'Fraid not, Beth; she's working. Won't be home 'til just before supper most likely. Carl is at summer camp."

Daryl clears his throat from somewhere behind them.

"Hey there, Daryl, I thought you were goin' to get the horse –" Rick starts, confusion overtaking his features briefly. He smiles, then, knowingly, and nods. "Oh, I got it. You called Beth to help with the ol' mare, then? I was expectin' to see Sean."

Daryl lifts his head, squinting through the bright mid-morning light as his eyes move from Beth's to Rick's. "Well, ya mentioned she – er, Beth – spent the most time out here. That mare's withdrawn, seems like. Familiar scent ought to help. Can't hurt, I figured. Can't get her to come anywhere near me. Near the stalls." He shrugs.

"Makes sense," Rick agrees, nodding. "Beth, you mind comin' out to the pasture and seein' if you're able to convince that ol' mare to cooperate? She's doin' nothin' but balkin' for the both of us. Hate to waste your daddy's and brother's time – I know they're busy. We figured we'd get her out o' the way first. Hopefully, you can get her right and set before they get here."

Beth smiles and gives a brief, friendly nod toward Daryl before facing Rick. "Of course! Your team were my best friends for half my life, Rick. Let's see if I can help out at all."

Xxx

The three of them stand at the gated area of the fence. Beth tells Rick and Daryl to stay near the stalls, toward the back and out of sight, as she unlocks the wide gates and enters the field where the horses are all scattered.

Daryl and Rick are leaning against the hard wood of the weathered fence, elbows propped and eyes roaming, absorbing the beauty of the farm and the land for the next several minutes. It's an amiable sort of silence.

Rick is well-aware of the struggles and traumas that Daryl has faced, and as he turns toward the man on an impulse, a need to express that he feels some sort of quasi-fatherly pride about how far he's come, he's instead distracted by the delicate tsk-tsk noises originating on the team-side of the fence.

Blonde hair and the plaid backside of Beth's shirt come into both men's views only seconds later, along with the snout of the chestnut mare, as Beth leads the old, cantankerous girl toward and, slowly, into the stables. Only now, the mare appears docile and compliant; cooperative even.

Rick smiles, shaking his head slightly. Beth always did have some nearly otherworldly ability to calm and coax and lead his horses, particularly the difficult ones.

Rick meets her round eyes as she looks up from the side of the horse, and meets the small smile on her face with one of his own, subtly nodding to acknowledge a job well done.

He glances to Daryl, then, as they'll need to secure the stable quickly but deftly.

The look on Daryl's face, however, stops him momentarily. It's one of wonder yet contemplative and unsettled, all at once, and, maybe it's just Rick's soft heart or the sentimentality of this moment, but he swears he can sense some sort of invisible cord tethering it directly to the young woman whose stance is now becoming amused yet impatient and expectant.

He snaps out of it quickly, though, brought back to the present with the quiet tap of Beth's boot on the floor of the stable, moving skillfully to simultaneously assist her out of the stable with one roughed hand and lock up the stable before the mare realizes her position.

Daryl and Beth return to the front of the stables in silence and gentility.

"Ya sure you wanna be a vet, Beth?" Rick asks, slinging an arm around the girl. "Think you'd be missing your true callin' if so."

Beth playfully jabs an elbow into the man's side. "Oh, really? And what's that, O knowledgeable elder?"

"Tamin' wild beasts," he laughs. "In record time."

The approaching crunch of gravel under tires signals the arrival of the Doctors Greene at the farm.

"Look at that. Impeccable timing," Rick says, ruffling the blonde, sweaty curls on the sides of Beth's head. "Good thinkin' today, there, Daryl, givin' the mare whisperer a call."

"'S nothin'," Daryl shrugs.

Rick removes his arm from Beth's shoulders and walks across the drive to greet Hershel and Sean, leaving she and Daryl near the stables.

Daryl's staring intently at his worn boots and Beth wonders if he's about to start creating a new set of earthy cyclones when he looks up at her. For no reason at all, she feels her pulse quickening, though she at least has the wherewithal to feel foolish about it.

"Thanks, Beth. For comin' on such short notice and basically just 'bout doin' the bulk of my job this morning." He says it quietly, and it's almost as if he's not quite capable of directing it to her, not exactly anyway. His eyes are dancing and skirting through the air, to her face, to the others, and back again. "I really need this – need Rick's help right now. He's a good man."

"Nothin' to thank me for, Daryl, really. It's true, I love these horses 'bout as much as anything. And actually – you helped me with my job, too. Wouldn't wanna hear Sean's bitchin' and moanin' if the horse wasn't prepped by the time they got here, trust me." She smiled, hoping her words were comforting and sounded as genuine as the truth of them.

"Do you live 'round here, Daryl?" Beth asks, moving infinitesimally closer to him, as the three other men begin making their way up the drive.

Daryl scratches the back of his neck and scrubs a hand over his face, almost as if the question – or maybe the answer – is a painful one. That reaction alone makes Beth feel like squirming or running or maybe reaching out and touching his sturdy, burdened shoulder.

"Uh," he starts, making a few small kicks at the dust bordering the yard. "Yeah, not far from here."

Beth inhales and smiles, relieved that the answer wasn't any sort of tragedy, at least on the surface. "Well, ya ever wanna know where to find some good booze, you've got my number."

She turns then, inwardly cringing at her own inability to talk small, and heads toward her truck. After greeting her dad and brother, and bidding Rick a nice day, she braves a look and little wave at Daryl.

Xxx