A/N Thank you all so much! I appreciate your comments and the follows, favors, kudos, all of it - you keep me inspired. I'm weaving a tale here and in this chapter we'll get a small glimpse of town life, meet some new and yet very familiar characters and get a slice of how our couple lives when they're not working.
Let's see now, ah yes, we have a misunderstanding.
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His eyes couldn't help but drift that way about 3:15, about the time he knew she'd be leaving for home. Jim was holding the door for her as she stepped out and they exchanged a goodbye. The blacksmith was caught by surprise when her eyes turned to him and he could see she'd embarrassed herself when she quickly turned away and started on her walk toward home. He wanted to hurry over and speak to her and maybe he might have even had the guts to, but damn if Spencer Monroe didn't appear out of nowhere again.
All the blacksmith could do was sigh and finish his task, knowing he'd been beaten in the only way that mattered to him. While he'd been buying candy sticks and gumdrops, and then trying so hard to ignore her altogether, Spencer Monroe had been winning her over with his fancy talk and self-confident way.
As soon as she saw Monroe she was filled with dread. She didn't want to converse with him and it was every day now that he seemed to prevent her from just going about her business. Even though she'd told him she had an important appointment to get to he'd simply smiled and said, "Come on now pretty lady, you don't want to leave me standing here all alone do you?" It was only when the sheriff happened by and stopped to greet them both that she was able to be on her way. She was relieved to get free of the overbearing braggart.
That afternoon she had an appointment to meet with the pastor of Heavenly's small church, a man named Eastman and his wife Olivia. She'd always sung and played piano at church and she thought she would like the opportunity to do that in Heavenly. The pastor and his wife were good people of a quiet and gentle nature. They took their time explaining to her the history of the small nondenominational church. Because there was only the one church in town, they told of how Sunday services were conducted in a manner they hoped satisfied all believers. They were delighted to add music back into those services as Olivia explained, "For quite a few years we were blessed to have a very nice woman who played the piano and sang for us. She left us last year when she and her husband decided to move further west to homestead in Idaho."
Beth played the piano and sang for them and they seemed genuinely excited as they went on about the wonderful addition she would be to services. They invited her to stay and join them for dinner and afterward they walked her back to the schoolhouse. They'd been so kind and welcoming and she'd enjoyed the time she spent with them. She looked forward to singing for the congregation that very Sunday. And with all the distraction of the evening she hadn't even had a moment to give one thought to the blacksmith. Well, at least not as much thought as usual. Not quite.
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Friday night didn't mean the start of a weekend off for the blacksmith. Saturday mornings were often his busiest of the week. Everyone knew he'd be shutting the shop down at noon Saturday and wouldn't reopen until 6:30 Monday morning. His services were not available until then unless you had a genuine emergency and were lucky enough to find him at home. Folks brought work to him Saturday mornings they thought couldn't wait.
Maybe it wasn't the brightest thing he'd ever done but being bright wasn't what he was after. Instead of going home where he belonged Friday evening he found himself making his way to the saloon. What he was after was drinking Beth Greene, and most particularly the thought of Beth Greene with Spencer Monroe, off his mind.
He'd tried hard to tell himself he shouldn't be feeling so upset. She wasn't his wife or his intended. They hadn't even courted. They'd barely spoken. None of that logic seemed to have any bearing on his mood or his level of hurt. He was sullen and saddened over her, and angry and bitter toward Spencer Monroe. It remained to be seen whether some good rye whiskey was going to help lighten his mood or make it darker.
It was rare for him to visit the local saloon. When he drank in Heavenly he did his drinking at his home. On his infrequent travels to Billings for business or supplies he sometimes stopped in the saloon there but the truth was, he was around people for most of his workday so when not working he preferred to steer clear of crowds and the noise.
This day was different.
He checked his gun at the door and made his way to the long oak bar. He was there to drink and was relieved to see that skinny guy Dwight was tending the bar. The man wasn't a big talker and that suited Daryl, he had no inclination to exchange small talk. He ordered his liquor and then his eyes scanned the room. As was usual on a Friday night the drinking and "entertainment" establishment was busy.
Besides the beer and the whiskey offered there were gaming tables where dice, faro and poker were played. There were also the working women, scantily dressed in little more than their undergarments and enticing the lonely men into buying them liquor. The woman would smile and sit on the man's lap as she pretended to drink the liquor, and she'd let the fellow have a little feel of the merchandise. Inevitably the man placed more of his money in the bartender's hand and he and the woman went to one of the rooms upstairs, and it was there the man got what he'd paid for.
Daryl had no interest in the working ladies, never in his hometown and never again. Not now that he'd met Beth Greene. She was the only woman he was interested in talking to and the only woman he had the desire to touch in that way. No sooner did he have that thought than he was approached by a young working woman. "Well hey there Smithy, nice to see you tonight, but you seem a little lonely. Why don't you buy me a drink and we'll keep each other company?" She'd reached her hand up to touch his face but he pulled away. He had no desire to hurt her feelings, she was just trying to make a living, so he tried to be a gentleman when he declined her offer, "Thanks gal but I ain't lookin' for company right now. Just got a little drinkin' I need ta do."
She smiled, said, "Another time," and moved on to her next prospect.
His eyes went to the gaming tables that stayed busy from Friday afternoon until well into Sunday morning. As long as the saloon closed by 6:00am Sunday and there was no trouble, the sheriff left the owner to make his money and the customers to have their fun.
There were two tables of poker players and Daryl knew one was for the high stakes players and the other for the nickel and dimers. Then there was the faro table. It was strictly high stakes and sitting at that high stakes table was none other than Spencer Monroe. He was practically licking his lips as he gazed at the half-naked bosom of the woman seated next to him, Andrea Harrison. Andrea was known for her figure, her bawdiness and her gaming skills. Those skills, and what were purported to be her skills with a man, were the reason she was there.
Andrea was considered special for a number of reasons, including the fact that for the past two years she'd been sleeping with the owner of the saloon in his upstairs suite. The owner being a man named Phillip Blake who made his employees call him Governor. Andrea ran the faro game for him and she played with the house's money and for the house's profit. Seldom did she lose. Many believed luck and skill were not always the reason for Andrea's good fortune. There were suspicions her real skills lie in sleight of hand.
Just because she was not one of the regular ladies, and just because she was the Governor's woman, didn't mean a man couldn't have his way with her for the right price. Phillip Blake was a businessman and he made his money where he could. But the Governor had Andrea's price set far higher than most men could pay.
No man would ever mistake her for one of the regular ladies. Her clothes were equally as revealing as those ladies, but of far more expensive cut and fabric. Her hair was piled high and her lips were painted bright red, and her dress showed her legs all the way up passed her knees. She wore shoes with a tall heel and fishnet stockings to just above her knees to show her garters. Her ample bosom was nearly pushing its way out of the front of her dress, and a bustle made her figure look rounded and shapely.
Daryl turned back to the bar just as the thin man poured his whiskey. He drank it down quickly, asked for a another and then heard a man yell, "That's bullshit. You had that card hidden!"
He turned his head toward the commotion to see the woman named Andrea get to her feet, hands on her hips and a smile on her face. Her voice was sultry while at the same time mocking when she answered his accusation, "Where do you think I had it hidden little man?" And then with her hands clasping his hair and her bosom pushed into his face, and with no sign of shame at all, she taunted, "If you have enough money left we can go upstairs and I'll let you search me all you want."
That's when Spencer Monroe stood from the faro table and grabbing her around the waist he pulled her toward him smiling, "Not until I get my turn." As he spoke the words he stuffed bills down the front of her dress, taking quite some time before he removed his hand. Except for the man who'd lost his week's pay, the men at the table all laughed and the game resumed.
The scene only made the blacksmith more angry. It further enforced his belief about the type of man Spencer Monroe was. Drinking, gambling and making a show with a woman, all on his Mama and Daddy's dollar. Daryl Dixon knew and he worried for her, a man like Spencer wouldn't change. He'd keep on doing as he'd always done and end up breaking the heart of the sweet and tender woman, Beth Greene.
The blacksmith drank down two more shots but they brought him no relief from his dark mood. He paid for the rest of the bottle and took it with him. He retrieved his gun, mounted his horse and road home. But not straight home. He took the long way around, passing the schoolhouse on his way. When he saw the dim light glowing from the back window it only made his mood darker.
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She got up early Saturday morning filled with determination to complete a list of tasks she'd given herself, and just as determined not to let thoughts of Daryl Dixon control her mood. She had a quick breakfast, washed up and dressed to begin those chores. She'd already lost the battle with her thoughts when she found herself wondering if the blacksmith preferred her hair up or down. She tried to shake the question from her mind as she braided the blonde curls.
At the top of her list was her laundry. She hadn't had an opportunity to care for her things since she left Georgia. She stepped outside and was surprised to find there was quite a chill in the air, it was only August. But it was calm and sunny and once she began her task she'd be plenty warm. She drew water from the well and carried in a bucket to heat in the pot on the stove. It would have been so much easier if there were a place to build a small fire outside and heat her water there. But she was in town and she understood this was the way it would be. She alternated cold and heated water until the wash tub was full enough, then she added the packet of laundry soap she'd purchased at the store. Back home she would have made her own soap but here, well no. There wasn't much need when it was just herself.
She started with her undergarments, vigorously scrubbing them against the washboard. When she was satisfied they were clean she went to work on her nightgown, then her two work blouses and finally the kitchen towel and cloth. Then she went through almost the same routine as she rinsed them, making certain they were free of the soap. She wrung them out, gave them a good shaking and hung them on the line, then moved on to her next task.
The small room showed very little use and it didn't take her long to tidy it up. She went in the classroom and studied over the lesson plans and re read all the rules, including the rule about no beau. She heaved a heavy sigh. The man she wished to be her beau, Daryl Dixon, had seemed to show some interest in her when they first met, but now it seemed he had no interest at all. Her shoulders slumped as she told herself that at least she wouldn't be breaking any rules.
She had a simple lunch of an apple and a bit of hard cheese she'd purchased at the store, then went back to the classroom. She played the piano and sang hymns as she practiced for Sunday services. It felt good to just be able to play her music and sing the familiar songs that reminded her of home. Just as she started to feel a bit homesick and melancholy a knock on the door drew her attention away from missing her home.
She straightened her skirt and fussed with her hair on her way to answer, and put a pleasant smile on her face as she did. It was a couple with three children all smiling back at her. The woman carried a picnic basket and the man removed his hat long enough to say, "Afternoon Miss. I'm Merle Dixon and this here's my family. My wife Karen and our children Virgil, Cyrus and Mary Ellen. We come ta welcome ya ta Heavenly."
She wanted to die of embarrassment after she asked it, but before she could think the words had just slipped from her mouth, "How nice of you to come by, are you Daryl Dixon's brother?"
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He woke up feeling as agitated and irritable as he had when he laid his head down the night before. How could it be this way? How could one tiny blonde woman be controlling his thinking and his mood like this? Shit. At least he had work. He knew it would be a busy morning and hopefully the work would be a distraction. Hopefully.
He placed more wood in the cookstove and got coffee going, and even that made his mind wander to her. He tried hard to think about something else, anything else, as he slipped on his boots, grabbed the wire basket and walked outside. He stopped first at the chicken coop, fed the birds and gathered the eggs into the basket. The chill of the early morning air told him that even though it was just the beginning of August it was time to insulate the coop and start preparing for the long winter. It came early and it stayed late in the high country of the mountain west.
Next he went to the door of the root cellar. He made his way down the dark stairs and deep into the ground and when he reached the cellar he lit a lantern that hung from a ceiling beam. He added two rashers of ham and a couple of large spuds and an apple to his basket, checked on his food stores and when satisfied all was well went back to his home.
Back at his cookstove he took a small scoop of lard from the covered crock and got it heating in the big cast iron pan while he scrubbed and sliced the spuds. He threw them in the pan and then went to his washroom. He filled the sink and scrubbed his face, neck and ears. He made his way back to the cookstove, flipped and moved the spuds around in the pan, and then went to his room and got himself dressed for the day. By the time he was back at the stove his spuds were crispy and just short of burning, just the way he preferred them.
He scooped them out onto a tin plate, put the ham in the pan to warm, took two eggs from the basket and rinsed them. He cracked the eggs, cooked them lightly and put the ham and eggs on the plate with the spuds. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat himself at the table for breakfast. That's when he looked to the empty chair across from him and his shoulders slumped. He wished she was there. He would have made her breakfast, whatever she might want and they could have enjoyed their meal together before he went to work.
It was plain as day to him now, he was losing his fucking mind to be thinking those kinds of thoughts.
He worked and he tried not to think of her as he hot shod two horses, cold shod another and then went to forging the large knife the sheriff wanted made. As hard as he tried not to think of her he wasn't successful. He shut his doors at noon but he didn't go home. He ate the ham and apple he brought for his lunch then gave his shop a good cleaning, including his tools. He brushed and fed each of the rental horses and by then it was nearing 4:30. He finally forced himself to go. He stopped to drop off his personal things and his work rags at the Chinese laundry, but he still didn't want to go home and face being alone, and so he didn't. He mounted his horse and rode to his brother's home. For the blacksmith there was no greater distraction than his brother and his niece and nephews.
They still lived in the little stick-built house they'd all moved into when Merle and Karen first married. That was the same but everything else was different now, real different.
One thing for certain was, his brother was a changed man. He'd started to change right away when he and Karen got serious and married. It was the love of a good woman back then, Daryl was sure of that. But it became a lot more. There had been a dark time, a terrible tragedy. Merle and Karen had shared the painful loss of their young child. A cholera epidemic had swept through the territory and the young couple's first and at the time only child, a boy named Caleb, had succumbed.
Daryl was just 13 himself and still living with them. His own heart felt as though it had been crushed by the weight of the loss, but he knew things were so much worse for them. For a while he feared the loss had broken his brother and sister in law forever. It nearly did. It was only their love for each other and their strength that got them through those first few months. Although it was a hurt that would never truly heal, slowly things got better and eventually they were able to begin living their lives again.
Now they were blessed with three more precious children. Although his brother could be quite stern, and he had rules his children were expected to follow without question, he also showed them a great love and patience Daryl would have never suspected his brother had in him. But Merle Dixon was now of a more sensitive nature. It was almost as if he had a gentleness to him when it came to his wife and his children. Even with Daryl. Of course none of that was to say Merle Dixon couldn't and wouldn't kick the ass of anyone he thought had it coming.
Karen insisted the young man she called Brother stay for dinner, and he was never one to turn down her cooking or the company of his niece and nephews. It was always a loud table, how could it be any other way with Merle being the head of the family? There they all sat, eating and visiting and Merle reached right over to the platter of chicken at the center of the table. He pulled a leg off one of the birds and still holding it in his hand he began to eat the boiled meat. Karen promptly scolded him, "Merle Dixon where are your manners? Use a fork for that."
Before Merle could respond their daughter Mary Ellen, all of seven years old, spoke right up to defend her father. She was so serious when with a child's logic she said, "Mama you ask Daddy that every meal. I know he'd use them if he could, I just don't think Daddy has any manners."
Her Mama's eyebrows arched and Daryl almost spit out his lemonade but Mary Ellen's Daddy just smiled. "That's right little girl, you explain it to your Mama while Daddy enjoys his chicken."
Karen shook her head as if in disgust but there was a smile on her lips, suddenly she remembered her news. "Daryl have you met the new schoolmarm? She's a very sweet woman named Beth Greene. She's going to be playing the piano and singing some hymns for us at church tomorrow morning, well I guess it will be every Sunday morning. Isn't that wonderful?"
Merle saw the look on his brother's face and announced, "Little brother, after dinner I need ya ta come out ta the shed and have a look at sumthin' with me."
"Yeah sure." Was Daryl's response, but he knew his brother had some kind of serious talk in mind when the boys chimed in, "We wanna come too Daddy." And Merle answered, "Nah not now. Just cuz your ol Daddy don't have any manners don't mean ya don't need ta use yours. You help your Mama clean all this up. When she says you're done y'all can come out and pitch horseshoes with your uncle."
The brothers stood by the shed as each expertly rolled the tobacco in the thin paper, licked and sealed the seam, twisted the ends and lit their smokes. Merle took a puff, clapped his brother on the shoulder and asked, "Tell me what's botherin' ya brother. Ya already met the little marm have ya?"
Daryl just took in a long drag and shrugged his shoulders.
"We ain't got time for that nonsense Daryl. Ya need ta speak up. Virgil and Cyrus are anxious ta run around with their uncle and it'll be dark soon. C'mon now, tell me what's botherin' ya."
"Yeah I met her, every man in town's met her. Fuck, every man in the territory's met her."
His brother chuckled, "Yeah? Well I'd imagine so. Here she shows up all young and sweet and pretty. It's natural that all these lonely ol boys can't think a nuthin' else but how they can be the one ta make her lose her job. So I gather you're sweet on her, huh? Ain't nuthin' wrong with that, it's about time ya settled down with a good woman."
Daryl knew he couldn't hold out on his brother, Merle figured out everything anyway he might as well tell him now, "Yeah well I'm pretty damn sure that Monroe asshole is the first in line. I ain't no competition for a guy like him."
"Fuck him. You listen ta me now son. He ain't no better'n you. When ya gonna learn it Daryl? When ya gonna see you're what a real man is supposed ta be? It ain't just that ya got a strong back and ya ain't afraid ta work. Ya also got a real good heart and you're smart n clever. Shit boy by the time you was 18 you was buyin' your own business. Look at all ya done in your life already and you're just now 25. That fool ain't done nuthin' but spend Mama and Daddy's money."
He took another puff on the smoke and advised, "If ya want her ya best be lettin' her see that. Otherwise ya might just as well hand her over ta that sumbitch."
"Fuck Merle, what makes you think she'd give me the time a day?"
Now his brother smiled that big wide smile of his, patted Daryl's back and answered, "What makes me think she'd give ya all the time ya wanted is what happened when we paid a call on her today. You know how your sister is. We had ta get slicked up, the children had ta get slicked up and we showed up over there at the school early this afternoon with a basket a dinner." "I introduced myself and my family ta her and right away the pretty little thing looks me in the eye and asks, 'Oh, are you Daryl Dixon's brother?' And let me tell ya, I seen that look in her eye and I knew she had feelins for my little brother, just like you got feelins for her. We'll be leavin' here at 8:30 sharp tomorrow morning for Sunday Services. I think it'd be a real good idea for ya ta come along with us."
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A/N It seems maybe, kind of, sort of, we could be making a little progress. I promise our couple will have interaction next chapter. We're also in for some pretty big drama involving one Spencer Monroe. Thank you so much for reading along. I hope you'll take the time to leave a comment / review. If you'd like to see the chapter photo it's on my tumblr blogs gneebee and bethylmethbrick. I hope to see you all back here next Friday for more of A Place Called Heavenly. Until then remember, I love ya large! xo gneebee