A/N Again, I thank you all so much. I'm happy to know so many of you are enjoying this story!
I think it's time for a Saturday night bath :)
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They were such a nice family. Merle was funny and kind but far louder and far more talkative than his brother. Karen was pleasant and welcoming and she'd asked Beth to come with her to a sewing circle the next Saturday morning. She was delighted to have the opportunity to spend more time with Karen and to have a chance to meet with some of the other ladies in Heavenly.
She was also charmed to meet the three Dixon children, all of whom would be attending school with her. The older boy, Virgil, had smiled and proudly promised her that as long as the job was his he'd see to it she never ran out of wood. Cyrus was the more quiet of the three, reminding her of his uncle. And the girl, Mary Ellen, she was such a cute and chatty little thing who couldn't wait to tell Beth, "Mama used to be the marm but Daddy told her ta quit that darn job and marry him instead. She did too. Just like that. Uncle Daryl lived with Mama and Daddy back then and Mama made him do his lessons every night. He said it was just like he was living at school, even though he didn't even really go to school on accounta he was working as a 'prentice all day long." Beth was sure the child had never drawn in a breath as she spoke.
Karen smiled Beth's way and apologizing said, "Sorry, I'm sure you didn't care to hear all the Dixon family history on our very first meeting. Mary Ellen is a child who feels the need to keep everyone informed about the goings on in our lives, past and present."
Beth was, in fact, very happy to get a glimpse into the Dixon's lives, especially Daryl's life. It explained some things and brought new questions about others. Daryl seemed far younger than Merle and now she was sure at one time he'd been in his brother's care. She wondered what may have become of his parents.
After the Dixons left Beth brought her clothes in from the line, happy to see the sun and light breeze had dried them. After her supper she would starch and iron everything. After that, if she still had a speck of energy left, she'd write her brother a long letter and tell him of her journey and how her life was going in this faraway place.
For now though it was bath time. She moved the tin tub from next to the commode over by the stove, then stoked the fire so she wouldn't get chilled while she bathed. She made sure the doors were all tightly locked and then began preparing for her bath. She heated her bath water on the stove, using every vessel she could so that it wouldn't become too cool while she waited for more to heat. She loosened the buttons of her undergarments and draped them over the back of the chair before slipping into the small tub.
She washed her hair first, knowing later she'd be fighting tangles and wild curls. When her bath was done she dried herself, redressed and combed the unruly hair, finally taming it in a braid.
He returned home from his brother's house already thinking about church the next day. Now that he no longer lived with Merle and Karen he seldom attended, but as soon as he heard she'd be there, and singing, there was not a chance he was going to miss seeing and hearing her.
He stoked the fire in the hearth and added a log so the water would be properly heated, went in his bathroom and stripped down to his cotton undershirt and shorts. He stood at the sink and trimmed his beard a bit then lathered up his neck and using the straight edge he shaved it clean. He went to the big copper tub and turned the spigot for the hot water. He'd installed two cisterns in the attic each with coiled copper piping leading from it and abutted to the chimney, always keeping the water warm. One cistern fed into the kitchen sink and the other, the larger one, had two pipes. One pipe ran to the bathroom sink and the other to the tub.
He unbuttoned the undershirt and shorts, removed them and slipped into the warm water where he did a far better job of washing his hair and washing his body than was usual. This wasn't just a regular Saturday night bath, tomorrow he'd be seeing Beth Greene.
The next morning he made his breakfast, brushed his teeth and got himself into his church clothes. He dressed in a starched white shirt, pulled on the black woolen slacks, buttoned them and drew the suspenders up over his shoulders. He did what he hated most about all of it, he tied the silken tie at the stiff collar. He slipped his arms into the vest and buttoned it closed. There was a fresh polish on his boots and he did his best to comb the hair back from his face. He shrugged into his black box coat, put the black bowler on his head and he was ready. He wasn't particularly comfortable, he didn't care much for church clothes, but at least Beth Greene would see he knew how to dress proper for Sunday Services.
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Karen had mentioned her family would see Beth at church but after her misstep she was careful not to blurt out her big question. Would the family include Daryl Dixon? She hoped with all her heart that it would.
She took her time dressing as if she knew for certain he would be there, shaming herself for giving the blacksmith more thought than she gave to the worshiping she would do. It just seemed no matter how hard she tried her mind wouldn't stray far from thoughts of him.
Her Sunday dress had traveled well and she was happy to have the opportunity to wear the garment for the first time. It had been a gift from her brother's wife and it was by far the most fashionable thing she had ever owned. The skirt of the dress featured a series of fancy folds, drapes, and pleats and the rear was padded in a kind of modified bustle. The bodice was decorative with ribbon trim and frill and the colors of the dress were shades of yellow with a bit of white. The hem was finished with a ruffle and just high enough to show the ankle of her tightly laced high-top shoes.
She made more of a fuss with her hair than usual but it was so clean as to be rendered nearly unmanageable. She was frustrated as she tried to get it all to stay in the chignon, but there were those few curls and strands that in spite of her best efforts refused to be tamed. She put on her hat trying to tuck the unruly hair into it, but it was all to no avail.
She stood in front of the small church with the pastor and his wife to either side of her as they greeted the congregants filing in. Beth was happy to meet so many folks even though she knew she could never hope to keep all the names straight. One she recognized right away was the very large redheaded man who had been her savior. Her father would have described him as a man who filled up the room. He was with a woman who it seemed to Beth was his exact opposite, a tiny woman with dark hair and dark eyes. They were introduced to her as Abraham and Rosita Ford and she was truly pleased to make their acquaintance.
She saw the Dixon family approaching in their buckboard with Merle holding the reins, Karen in the middle, Daryl seated next to her and all the children in the back. She feared her heart would beat right out of her chest. He looked so handsome and when he glanced her way they exchanged a look that she could swear made her spine tingle. It was in that look she clearly saw she'd been wrong, the blacksmith did indeed have an interest.
Their eyes met and although he thought he should, he couldn't make himself look away. He was stunned by the sight of her and he knew without doubt she would always be the loveliest woman he would ever see. His eyes focused on those curls that had worked their way loose and it was all he could do to fight the urge to hurry to her and touch the hair, to feel it between his fingers. There was something else, something in her look. He saw now what Merle had been talking about. Maybe it was true, maybe she really did fancy him after all.
As he and his brother's family entered the church the preacher introduced them all, "…and this is Merle's brother Daryl. Daryl is the blacksmith and although we don't see him here often, we're always pleased when we do." The blacksmith saw the pink come to those pretty cheeks as she gave him a shy smile.
He'd known the moment was coming but try as he might he could not come up with a greeting that would hint just a little at his feelings. His mind was a blank and his throat felt dry and when the time was upon him all he was able to do was remove his hat, nod slightly and say, "Very nice ta see ya again Beth Greene."
"Thank you. It's very nice to see you again as well Mister Dixon." She was sure she would faint at any moment. He looked so different from when he was working, but what hadn't changed was how handsome he was. She was sure there could never be a finer looking man. The little bit of shyness and nervousness he had about him only added to his appeal.
He tried not to be obvious as he took a look around at those in attendance. He'd been dreading seeing the Monroes at services because of Spencer, the last person he cared to see. But for some reason they weren't there that Sunday. It was highly unusual, Deanna and Reg never missed church and because of that, Spencer never missed. The asshole knew enough to do things his folks' way, that's where all that money he liked spending came from. Maybe they'd gone out of town, Daryl didn't know and didn't care, he was just glad Spencer Monroe was nowhere to be seen.
He was mesmerized by her singing and certain he'd never heard a more beautiful sound. While he enjoyed every moment of it she was praying she didn't become too nervous. She was use to this, singing in front of Sunday worshipers, but she wasn't use to singing for him. She worried she'd forget words she'd sung hundreds of times, or worse yet, have her voice squeak with the nerves. She was just grateful to get through the hymns.
It was later as they filed out and Karen asked Beth Greene, "Please, come join us for Sunday dinner. You can ride home in the buckboard with us." Before she answered she looked to Daryl and he was looking at her and it hurt so badly when she had to answer, "Thank you, it's very kind of you to offer. I'm sorry I have to decline the invitation. The sheriff's wife asked me earlier."
He hadn't even thought about Karen asking her to dinner but when she did he felt the nervous excitement and hoped she'd say yes. Then she looked at him and then she sweetly declined. He almost said what he was thinking out loud, "Shit." He didn't recall when he'd been more disappointed. His only consolation was that the look in her eye told him she was as disappointed as him.
As it turned out Beth had dinner with only the sheriff's wife Lori and their young son Carl, a boy of about Cyrus Dixon's age. When, after their meal the young boy ran off to play with the neighbor children, Lori explained to Beth why the sheriff wasn't there. It turned out he'd been called away on a gravely serious matter. There had been a terrible assault, actually there had been two. The sheriff was now on his way to Billings, transporting the perpetrator to the hospital there. Although Billings was not a big city it was accessible to a broad area of the territory and thus had more facilities.
Beth was horrified to hear the story of what the man had done and what had consequently been done to him. She felt herself shaking at the very thought. It could have been any woman, a man capable of doing something so reprehensible wouldn't be choosy about his victim.
She was still shaken when she returned home. She tried calming herself first at the piano, and then she read from the bible. Finally she sat down and wrote that long letter she'd been planning to her brother. She told him about the journey west and the people she'd encountered along the way. She wrote of how the classroom was very nice and how pleased she was there was a piano. She told him her accommodation was just fine and that she even had a lovely yard. She wrote about church and about the nice people she'd met. She did not mention the terrible assault carried out by a man with whom she herself had spoken on three different occasions.
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The blacksmith was at work especially early on Monday mornings. His forge would be cold from non-use and the first thing he did was get his fire going. He almost got a smile when he set the coffee pot on the back of the hearth. He would pay a visit to the general store that morning and this time he had planned ahead, he had a good excuse why he would need to be there.
Daryl and his brother had recently made a trip to Billings, each with their own buckboard. There they purchased bulk food supplies for the long winter ahead. Included in Daryl's purchases were staples such as 75 pounds of potatoes, 25 pounds of onions, 75 pounds of apples, there was salt, flour and sugar; and a 25-pound burlap sack of beans. But Beth Greene didn't know he had that bag of beans stored in his root cellar. He was sure it wouldn't hurt to purchase another pound from her. He kept a big cookpot there at the shop and he planned to put those beans to good use that very day. He'd quick soak them first, then set the pot on the back of the hearth and add the onion and ham hocks he'd brought from home. His dinner would be ready when it was time to close up shop for the day.
It was just passed six and his fire was burning good and the hearth beginning to warm. He wasn't even opened for business when the big buffalo soldier showed up at his shop in need of help with a damaged wagon wheel. Tyrese was his name and he'd served in the 9th Cavalry out of New Orleans, Louisiana, having been recruited back when it all came into being, at the beginning of September in 1866.
He was sent to fight Indians in San Antonio, Texas where the cavalry of Negro soldiers would be endeavoring to keep the road safe from the natives as far south as El Paso, Texas. Tyrese quickly discovered he had no stomach for the fighting with, and killing of the Indian people. He'd soon had his fill and he broke away from the cavalry. Like so many buffalo soldiers did he headed further West and North. When he did he brought with him a Mescalero-Apache woman.
In Heavenly he'd found the freedom to run his own small business, mostly hauling for people, cowboying during the seasonal moving of the cattle from the range lands to the forest land, and doing odd jobs. He helped ranchers with the spring calving, brandings and with haying. Whatever was needed Tyrese was willing to do the work and he made a fair dollar. He lived with the Indian woman not far from town and it seemed they had a good life together, a life that included two young children.
While Daryl repaired the damage to the wheel Tyrese told him how it had been damaged. Then he told him about having to help the sheriff out on Sunday. "I tell ya Smithy, it was a real, real bad situation goin' on. I don't understand what's wrong with that rich boy. Seems ta me he got real lucky, he got born with the silver spoon. You'd think a fella would make the most a that easy start at life. But no, he done fucked up bad Smithy, real bad. That man came one eyelash shy a gettin' hisself killed."
The blacksmith wasn't one to engage in gossip, mostly he just listened and let it pass by, but the words "rich boy" had gotten his attention. Daryl raised his eyes from his work just long enough to tell the man, "I got no idea what in the world you're talkin' about Tyrese."
"Talkin' bout the rich boy, Spencer Monroe. For havin' such nice folks he sure come out terrible wrong. He was at the saloon most all weekend playin' that sucker's game, that faro. He took some kinda shine ta the high priced sportin' lady, Andrea. She's the dealer ta boot and the guv'ner's woman. I guess he paid his money, and plenty of it too, and they went up ta the rooms. Seems the rich boy likes his lovin' rough and he roughed her up real bad, even covered her mouth so no one heard her callin' out."
"She went back ta the room she shares with Blake and took off her clothin' ta have her bath, ready ta wash that sumbitch offa her. The guv'nor walks in and sees her covered in bruises all over her body, includin' on them titties she shows off. I guess you know the man near lost his mind."
"He beat that boy ta just this side a death. He was so fulla rage it took that skinny barman, Dwight, the bouncer Martinez and the guv'ner's other man Mitch ta pull Blake offa the wormy asshole."
"Shit, that sounds real bad." That was all Daryl could get out of his mouth. The blacksmith's heart was pounding. He'd never liked Monroe, always thought of him as a worthless bastard, but he never thought this about him. The news rattled Daryl in so many different ways. It brought up those long-buried memories of his asshole father beating his Mama, then Merle and then him. And Beth, what if Monroe would have convinced her to give her attention to him, what would he have done to her?
The thoughts racing through his mind had his head spinning, his muscles twitching and his hands clinching into fists. He wanted to lash out at something, or better yet someone, but who that might be he didn't know. The Governor had beaten him to it.
"Yeah well you ain't wrong Smithy. Spencer Monroe is so bad off Doc Carlson couldn't fix him. He needed a hospital. The sheriff had me go with him and take Monroe over there ta Billin's in my wagon. We laid him in the back and his Mama and Daddy begged ta come along with him. The sheriff agreed on accounta the guy looked like he might not make it and them are his folks. I feel sorry for em and I feel real sorry for that sportin' lady too. Folks gotta make a livin' how they can, ain't no man got a right ta beat on a gal just cuz he paid for her."
Tyrese left the shop just in time for Daryl to see Beth approach the store, she glanced over at the blacksmith and he looked back. He nodded his head to her and she gave him that small wave and for just a moment they held the look. He was so happy to see her and yet seeing her made him think how badly she could have been hurt. Fuck, what if that asshole had convinced her to marry him? There would be nothing to be done then. It was just how things were, a man had the right to "discipline" his wife and now the blacksmith knew, Monroe was the kind that would.
He gave her a few minutes time to get settled at work before making his way across the street to the store, combing his hair back with his fingers as he did. Jim was in the shop with her but once they'd all exchanged pleasantries he went back to his living quarters.
The blacksmith still had that sense of dread and worry over what could have been, and without even thinking he went to the counter and for a brief moment he took her hand in his, saying as he did, "I'm glad you're alright."
The touch surprised her and also gave her such a nice warm feeling, but she was confused by his words. It wouldn't be until later that day she would put two and two together. For now she simply reveled in the feel of that big, rough and yet gentle hand on hers.
She tried calming herself before asking, "How can I help you this morning Daryl?" He looked so good to her. Even all dressed up as he'd been for church, one could see he wasn't a polished man. That just didn't matter. Somehow in her heart she knew he was a good man. That's what did matter.
"I don't need much, just a pound a those pinto beans please." He was so tense. At first it was the news he'd heard from Tyrese but now he'd touched her. He'd taken her hand. He'd surprised himself with his boldness when he did, and he could tell by the look on her face he'd surprised her too, yet she hadn't pulled her hand away from his. She'd allowed him to rest it on hers for that brief moment and he'd felt the smallness of her hand and the softness of it and it felt so good. Sometime soon he'd like to hold that delicate hand and walk with her.
She was tying the string around his package of beans when he surprised himself again, "So which do ya think is more tasty, them candy sticks or the gumdrops?"
She was smiling now and biting at her bottom lip just a little, "They were both so delicious it's hard to choose. I was thinking maybe later I'd buy myself a root beer flavor candy. I've never had one and it sounds delicious." She was looking at him with those big blues eyes and smiling so pretty he would have bought her all the candy in the store if that's what she wanted.
He found himself smiling back at her when he asked, "Is that right? In that case maybe I'd best have a nickel's worth a those. Please."
"Of course."
He watched her so carefully and so precisely measuring out the nickel's worth of candy, and as she handed him the bag she smiled and told him his charges. He took the money from his pocket and she handed him his change, and then he handed her the bag of candies, "Thanks Beth. See ya tomorrow."
He turned to go but she called to him, "Wait. Daryl, wait."
He turned around and walked back to the counter, "Yeah, do ya need sumthin' Beth?"
"No, I need to give you something. Hold out your hand." He did as she asked without hesitation and she placed a handful of the candies in his palm. "We should share Daryl."
"They was meant for you."
"I'll enjoy them more if I know you're having some too."
They exchanged a shy smile and she thought she might drop into a dead faint. She couldn't believe herself acting so forward with him, but it was like she felt the need to let him know she cared. Then she admonished herself. Shame on her, she had a job, a job she couldn't afford to lose. But even that knowledge didn't prevent her from stealing glances his direction every chance she got for the rest of the day.
His neck was on fire as he made his way back to his shop. He couldn't believe how bold he'd acted with her. He had to stop all this thinking of her, shit, he had work to do and he had to concentrate. Then he smiled broadly, stopped right there in the middle of the street and placed one of the hard candies in his mouth.
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A/N Everyone had their bath and went to church, we met new people and we heard a gruesome story. Daryl bought candy again and Beth surprised him when she wanted to share. So much going on. I'd appreciate reading your comments / reviews. If you'd like to see the chapter photo it's posted to my tumblr blogs gneebee and bethylmethbrick. I thank you all for reading and hope to see you back here next Friday for more of A Placed Called Heavenly. Until then remember, I love ya large! xo gneebee