A Place Called Heavenly Chapter 11, a walking dead fanfic

A/N Thank you all again for reading this story and for all the comments. I love to hear from you! This chapter Daryl and his horses make their way further up in the mountains to hunt. There will be some adventure and a close encounter with...well something. As for Beth, she'll be down in Heavenly without him. We'll see how they do.

Warning: For Daryl the animals he hunts are an important food source for his family. If harvesting game and what that involves is something that bothers you, you may want to skip over some parts.

Even though sometimes it felt like work, like it was a job he had to do and do right, truth was he always did enjoy getting out hunting. He liked the solitude of it and the quiet. He liked having his time to walk the forest and breath the clean, crisp air. As many years as he'd lived in the high country it still fascinated him the way the changing weather could dramatically alter the look of the landscape overnight.

This day was different though. As he rode away from the schoolhouse and her he felt none of those things. What he felt was a pain in his heart and an ache in his arms caused by an overwhelming desire to hold her. Dammit, why did it have to be like this? Maybe if they'd been able to spend time together, maybe if he could have said a proper goodbye to her, then maybe this wouldn't be so hard. He shook his head because he knew it would be every bit as hard, he couldn't imagine a time he wouldn't want to be wherever Beth Greene was.

Beth crawled back in the small bed to try and get a bit more sleep but there was simply no way sleep was going to come to her. Not now that Daryl had surprised her with an early morning visit, and certainly not after he'd held her so closely. She wished he was still there and still holding her. How was she going to get by for a whole week without seeing him? She wouldn't get to speak to him or feel the touch of his hand on hers or the warmth of his arms wrapped around her.

With her no longer working at the store everything had become much more difficult. Their morning routine had been broken and so many obstacles seemed to be blocking their way. But Daryl told her he would find a way they could spend more time together. She held tightly to the thought that if there was a way Daryl would discover it.

She knew a little about hunting. Her Daddy and her brother had hunted each fall and although they never wasted the meat that was harvested, it wasn't what they depended on for sustenance. For Daryl it was so different. He was providing for his family and she knew how seriously he took the responsibility. She closed her eyes and prayed for his safety and she prayed he would have good luck.

She got herself out of bed and the first thing she did was add more wood to the stove. It reminded her of him stoking it just an hour or two earlier. She smiled thinking of how thoughtful he was to worry about her, especially when he had such a difficult task ahead of him. She dressed and made a light breakfast of tea and bread with jam and she smiled again when she had one of the peppermints he'd left her.

Saturday always brought with it chores and Beth was glad for that. Keeping busy would help the time pass. She had her washing and her cleaning to do and there were a few things she needed at the store. She decided to start with her washing first so her clothes would have a chance to dry while she completed her other tasks.

She stepped outside and was so startled by the chill in the air she hurried back in the small room, knowing she simply could not wash in the yard. Just the thought of being out there and putting her hands in water made her shiver. She stood by the stove a moment while she thought of what to do, rushed back outside, got the washboard and quickly dashed back in the little room. She'd just have to wash her things in the sink as best she could.

She was scrubbing her work blouses when there was a knock on the door. It startled and then excited her. Was it possible? Was Daryl back to see her? She hurriedly dried her hands on the kitchen towel and opened the door to greet her visitor. She hated to feel disappointed, he was such a fine young man. It was just that she'd been hoping to see Daryl, not Virgil.

"Good morning Miss Greene. My Mama sent me to tell you that her and my Daddy will be here for ya between 3:30 and four. They want you to take dinner with us. Can I tell them you agreed?"

He took everything so seriously and so she followed suit, "That's very kind, I would enjoy being at your table for dinner Virgil. Will you please tell your Mama thank you and that I'll be ready?"

"Yes ma'am and Mama also said you shouldn't bring anything or she'll be upset. She said she just wants your company."

The horses were ready and he and Blackie took their place in the lead as they set out on their way. He and the big stallion knew exactly where they were headed. It was the same spot he'd been going the past three years. He'd had good luck there and as long as that remained the case he saw no reason to change things.

Getting there would make a long day for him and the horses, it was just over 30 miles. He didn't anticipate the horses having any trouble with it, they were all stout, strong animals. All he had to do was hope his ass and his legs held out for eight hours in the saddle.

He hadn't planned to bring the filly he called Ginger on the trip, he had a colt he'd been wanting to break in. But when that horse came up lame he'd left him with Merle to tend. Knowing the young horse would be inclined to follow the big stallion's lead he placed Ginger in the string right behind Blackie, .

He'd left the last of the rental horse for Virgil to ride. The boy would be going to Daryl's place each day to feed the chickens, gather eggs and add logs to the fire so the pipes didn't freeze. Daryl had taken care of everything he could think of so he could stay focused on the job at hand, except for thoughts of the pretty marm.

The further he and the horses got from town the closer the scrutiny he gave his surroundings. He was looking for signs and not just signs of the game animals he hoped to encounter. He also kept an eye out for the tracks and the scat of two particular animals he was of no mind to confront, the Cougar and the Grizzly.

He made it to camp just after two in the afternoon. It was a spot he loved and at first he simply paused, stood in the stirrups with hands clasped on the saddle horn and took in the beauty of it. The clearing was carpeted in tall meadow grasses and just a hundred yards or so off to his left was a pristine glacier formed lake. He hoped to be keeping himself well-fed with trout he'd catch in that lake.

He looked around and smiled when he saw it was still there and intact. It was a log stand he'd fashioned the previous fall and it was where he would hang Blackie's saddle, the horse's blankets and the packs.

He cared for his animals first thing. He removed Blackie's saddle and the panniers and everything he'd packed on the horses, then lead the animals on the short walk to the lake and a cool drink. He didn't want them cramping and kept a close eye on the horses, not letting them drink too much or too fast. When he felt they'd had enough he walked them slowly around the meadow to cool them down. He took his time brushing each of them and making sure none had suffered a scrape or had the prickly stem of a thistle or a burr stuck in their hair or skin. When he was satisfied all the horses were cooled and comfortable he gave each a small handful of grain and left them to graze while he went about the business of making camp.

The dugout was mostly intact which saved him both work and daylight. He dug it out a bit more, made himself a bed of fresh pine boughs and moved in the things he wanted to be certain stayed dry. The ammunition, his blankets and his extra clothing.

It was important to keep the small amount of food he'd brought away from bears. Not just grizzlies, any bear would be happy to steal his rations, especially now as they were getting ready for their long winter sleep. He weighted the end of a rope with a large metal clip and threw it over a nearby tree branch. He then took the pannier containing food supplies, retrieved a potato and some bread to have with his dinner, and attached the pack to the rope with the clip. Hand over hand he pulled the rope hoisting the pack up high in the branch. He secured the rope around the tree's trunk and simply nodded, satisfied his stores were now out of the reach of camp thieves.

He felt like he'd been half-starved and he gathered his pole and the small tin box filled with moist dirt and worms. He had fish to catch. He cast his line, sat down on a smooth rock and pausing he took in the beauty of his surroundings, and he thought of her. He wished she could see this place, he wished she was there now sitting by his side. He wished that after he'd caught her dinner and they'd warmed themselves by the fire for a bit, she'd lay with him in the little dugout.

Perhaps he should not be thinking of her in such a way, but how could he not? He felt no guilt. He was a man and she was a woman, a woman he desired to know in all the ways a man knows a woman. It was only natural he would want to lay with her in that way. He made up his mind as he sat watching the last of the day's sun glistening on the water, he would work this out. He would have Beth Greene and she would have him.

Although she seldom saw him on Saturdays it was knowing how far away he was that was so hard. He was somewhere up in those mountains and except for his horses he was alone. She closed her eyes and again she prayed for him and for his safe return. She was so grateful for the invitation to Merle and Karen's and not just for their company. She loved spending time in their home but there was something else. She felt a bit guilty about it but the fact was they were as close as she could come to being with him.

The Dixons were at her home at 3:45 and it was Karen who came to the door. As the women smiled and greeted each other Karen must have seen it in her eyes. It was that intuitive way a woman knows when another woman's heart is heavy. She gave Beth a hug and softly spoke in her ear, "I know it's worrisome but he'll be back soon. Daryl always comes back home Beth." The words did bring her some comfort but still, she already missed him so and it was only the first day.

The dinner table talk centered around Beth's new job and Daryl's trip. In trying to assure her Daryl would be just fine, Merle said something Beth found to be both confusing and unbelievable. "Ya know Beth, Daryl's one ya don't have ta worry about. He always manages ta get what he's after when he's huntin', and he knows how ta survive on his own out there alone. He was just seven years old, Mary Ellen's age, when he took care of himself for over a year while I was off fightin' in the war."

She managed to stifle a gasp at the statement, and to not ask the million questions now on her mind. She would wait and hopefully have an opportunity to hear the story from Daryl himself. He'd said he would figure out how they could have their time together and she believed him. He also said he would not keep secrets from her. When the time was right and they were alone she'd ask him why, as such a young child, he would be left to care for himself. And why was it always just him and Merle? And how in the world does a seven year old child care for themselves alone.

The next morning he woke early and with her on his mind. It was still dark out and he had a picture of her all curled up in that little bed. He wished he had his arms around her holding her close and keeping her warm. Soon she'd be getting up and getting herself ready for church, and damn if the thought of her in her Sunday dress didn't make him miss going to Services.

He moved the pine boughs from the dug out's entrance just enough to see out and it was still as black as pitch. The horses were quiet, still sleeping, and the fire had died completely. He slipped on his boots and as he crawled out into the cold he heard frost crunch where he stepped. He'd left a nice stack of firewood and dry pine cones next to the fire ring and he got busy. He lay down some cones, stacked wood on top of them, then took his striker and set the dry cones ablaze. Soon he had a good fire burning and he warmed his hands before starting his coffee.

He didn't dwell over breakfast, it was simple and just enough to get him by for the time being. He had his coffee, jerky, the last of the fresh bread he had and an apple. He was ready and anxious to start on his hunting. The sooner he bagged his game the sooner he'd be going back home and back to Beth.

When there was just enough light for him and Blackie to see their way, he set out. For now he left the other horses in camp. Their services were not yet required and one man and one horse were noisy enough. As he and Blackie were leaving Ginger let out a neigh and Daryl knew she did not want the stallion to leave, but the big horse answered back with a neigh of his own and it seemed to calm the filly.

Daryl didn't ride, he held the reins and walked beside the stallion, carefully looking for sign and glad to be seeing quite a bit of fresh deer scat, the game were in close. He figured it at about ten in the morning when he spotted the five-point buck. He looked at the horse and gave a nod of his head and Blackie knew the signal and stayed quiet. Deer are prey animals and as such quite skittish. They'd jump or run at so much as the sound of a leaf falling, so the hunter was pleased the ground and the fallen leaves were wet enough they wouldn't crunch under his feet.

The animal was in close range when Daryl quietly slipped the rifle from the scabbard. He slowly and silently moved a few paces to his right, lifted the rifle to his shoulder, got the animal in the sight and squeezed the trigger. The deer dropped instantly. He walked to the fallen buck feeling both happy and proud, it was a perfect shot to the side of its head. He knew the shot was one most hunters didn't even attempt, a brain kill. But Daryl possessed both a dead eye aim and a steady hand. This was good, perfect. The deer likely never knew what was happening and no meat was ruined.

He spread the animal's hind legs and propped a branch between them to keep them spread. He positioned the carcass on its back and used rocks to keep it in place. He proceeded to gut the animal, saving the heart in a cheesecloth game bag to have for his dinner. When the work was done, and having no desire to attract predators close to camp, he took the shovel Blackie carried, dug a good-sized hole and buried the gut pile. He hoisted the deer, resting it behind the saddle, secured it and finally allowed himself a smile. One success and hopefully there would be more to come soon.

He was grateful for the cool temperature; the meat wouldn't spoil if the weather held and he couldn't imagine it would get any warmer. The cool weather would not only ensure the freshness of the meat, he also saw no sign of insects.

Back at camp the first thing he did was add wood to his fire, he would need plenty of coals to cook his meal. He hung the deer from a high branch and then took care of Blackie. He noticed the little filly watching as he brushed the horse and as soon as Daryl began to move away from the stallion the filly moved closer. He smiled and teased the big male, "You gonna turn that filly into a mare boy?"

He took the deer heart to the lake and washed it off in the clear water then returned to the fire and dug a hole next to it, just big enough to hold his Dutch Oven. He scooped enough hot coals from the fire to fill the bottom of the hole and then set the cast iron pot atop those coals. He added lard from his food store and as the fat popped and sizzled he browned the deer heart and then removed it while he added a quartered onion and apple, two halved potatoes then set the deer heart on top of all. Finally he poured a little water in from his canteen and set the heavy pot lid on the pot. He scooped more coals on top to cover the lid and then buried it all in dirt. He was pleased knowing that when he dug it up later he would have a good dinner of roast deer heart and enough leftover for breakfast.

He washed up and then lay himself down in the soft grass, just as he knew the game animals would be doing that time of the day. He rested there until late afternoon when he and Blackie set out again. He came across a few deer, just does and a couple of forked horn, and he left them be. He had people to feed and he was looking for good sized animals. He wasn't feeling at all discouraged, he'd already bagged a deer that day and he was feeling confident this was one of those years when the deer population was large and healthy.

He made his way back to camp checking first that the deer he'd left hanging was properly cool and free of any insects. He gave the horses his attention next, before finally sitting to eat his dinner. While he ate he wondered what she was doing. He hoped she was warm enough and that she'd had a good meal. He wished he could check on her somehow and he wished he could hold her under the moonlight and maybe, just maybe she'd let him kiss her.

She opened her door to leave for Sunday Services and found that the Dixon family were there waiting for her. Merle and the boys tipped their hats and Virgil jumped down to help her in the buckboard. She remembered clearly the message Virgil had given her from Daryl and so, although she was a bit surprised, she was not completely surprised. She knew it in her heart, he had asked his brother to make certain she was alright and that's just what his family planned to do.

The air had a cold bite to it and she was pleased to see Karen had come prepared. Mary Ellen sat cuddled between the two women and there was a lap blanket over them. There were only two things she was concerned about, was Daryl warm and safe; and would certain meddlesome people begin taking note of how much time she was spending with the Dixon family?

She was grateful for dinner invitations and for her busy days teaching the children of Heavenly. She knew it was important that her time be occupied with thoughts of things other than Daryl Dixon. But it was all so difficult. She questioned how it could be so. It wasn't as if he'd been part of her life for a long time. Truth be told she hardly knew him at all and she had so many questions about him and his past, some unsettling. Despite those concerns it was a feeling she couldn't deny, a feeling of longing to be with him and to once again feel his strong arms around her.

It was Wednesday late morning when Lori Grimes visited the school house. She'd come with a message from Jim that there was a package waiting for Beth at the General Store. He would keep it safe for her until she could stop by and pick it up. She was excited, it had to be something from home. She knew she would rush over to get it as soon as school was dismissed for the day.

The children were having their lunch when a light snow began falling. Virgil must have read the concern on her face, "Don't worry ma'am, the ground ain't cold enough to hold it long. This is just one a those warning snows, reminding us we don't have much time left to make ready for winter." It may not worry Virgil but it worried her. Not this particular snow, he was right, she could see the clear skies in the distance. But what about what was to come? Would she be able to get through what she knew would be a long and very cold winter?

That question was still on her mind later when she walked to the store. She arrived to a warm welcome, and as it turned out Lori Grimes had brought the new parents a large pot of chicken soup with noodles and a basket of rolls. They insisted Beth stay for a meal and visit with them and the baby. Later Jim carried her package as he walked her home to the schoolhouse, when he left she finally had her chance to open the box.

It contained a lovely yellow wool sweater her sister in law had knit along with Beth's own knitting needles and a dozen hanks of yarn. Enough yarn for her to knit an afghan for herself. She'd never been so happy to have a warm sweater and work for her hands. The short letter pinned to the sweater told Beth how much she and the children loved and missed her, and how much they all wished Beth would come back home. It made Beth teary, she missed all of them too.

There was also an envelope containing a letter from her brother Shawn. It started out with the usual salutation and pleasantries as he told of receiving her letter and being pleased to know she was safe and had decent accommodations. Then the tone change. He told her he was worried for her and her safety in that wild western place, and he said how deeply he regretted ever allowing her to go. He insisted she come home where her life would be far more genteel, and where she had the prospect of marrying a good southern gentleman who would care for her in the manner to which she was accustom. He mentioned he had two suitors in mind who were willing and anxious to take her as their wife and he was certain she would find either of them quite acceptable. He instructed her to send him a telegraph at which time he would wire funds to her local bank. The funds to pay off both her indebtedness and provide her fare back to Georgia.

She held the letter in her hands and she cried. She missed her family so much and she knew they missed her. She understood her brother was not being mean, but that as the man of their family it was his responsibility to care for her and do as he thought best for her. Did she dare to disobey his wishes?

Monday was a good day of hunting, a day he was able to bag a nice full-bodied six x six point buck in the early morning hours and a second, a nice four x four late in the afternoon. He was pleased to now be in a position to fully concentrate on big game. Elk or moose, he'd take either.

He had a plan to set out in a westerly direction, not too far, he didn't want to get too much distance between him and his horses because he'd need their help if he bagged a big animal. Something he knew was moose like to eat willows and there was a narrow river just west of him five or six miles. Willows like to grow around those slow moving rivers.

There was barely enough light to see when he and Blackie set out. They hadn't gone 20 yards when the filly began to follow them. Daryl couldn't help smiling as he patted Blackie on the neck telling the horse, "Ya got a woman followin' ya boy, I think she loves ya." He knew he was being silly and soft-hearted, but he didn't take the filly back to camp and hobble her, he let her follow. Besides, he told himself she might come in handy for packing some game back to camp.

He slowed it way down when he got to the area where he thought he might have some luck. He and the two horses were on a rise overlooking a small meadow when he saw it, no more than 20 yards away, a bull moose in the rut. Moose, unlike deer, are not skittish and so he stood watching the big animal.

The bull had dug a rutting pit and Daryl could see it was muddy, and he knew why. The big bull had been urinating in it. There was a group of twelve cow moose looking on as the big bull proceeded to roll around in the muddy pit, and then began splashing the mud on his antlers and neck. The cows intently watched the impressive ritual, all wanting to be the first to mate with him.

That was the way it seemed to be planned, until a second bull showed up and Daryl knew he was there to attempt a takeover of the harem. The hunter felt excited knowing he was about to see something few men ever had, bull moose fighting a fierce battle for the right to mate with the females.

He watched as the bulls suddenly charged toward each other and the sound of the huge antlers crashing echoed through the mountains. They were aggressive and violent, pushing their full weight into each other and tangling in the bushes. Their antlers seemed to lock and it was as if they couldn't move at all as they looked in each-other's eyes. Then suddenly it all started again as they separated and once again crashed hard into each other. He knew there was a chance they would fight until the injuries were so serious one or both of them couldn't go on, or until one of them died.

The filly was nervous and stayed behind the stallion as Blackie began snorting and pawing the ground. Daryl leaned forward in the saddle rubbing and patting the horses neck and he spoke softly to him, "It's okay boy, this ain't our fight, we're just here ta watch." The bulls battled each other for about a quarter hour until one badly stunned the other. He'd lost part of an antler and he seemed even more clumsy than the big awkward animals usually are. The loser hurried off and Daryl knew, he'd catch his wind and then begin his search for another group of cows. It was the season.

He sat and debated, should he take one of these? No, he might end up in his own battle with the big bull and he was sure he'd lose. But he smiled, he felt lucky to have witnessed the spectacle. He and the horses moved along, looking for that lone bull without a harem. He found him only about a mile further down the river where the animal stood motionless, and for a few moments Daryl quietly watched him. He'd undoubtedly wandered back to this particular spot to rest and ready himself for his next fight.

Daryl quietly slid from the saddle and retrieved the rifle from the scabbard. He crept closer to the big animal, but not too close. Moose were often aggressive and a moose charging him could prove fatal. He edged just near enough where he knew he could get off a good shot. The bull's head came up as his nose sniffed the air, but Daryl knew he wasn't sniffing out man, he was sniffing out cows.

He'd debated with himself for weeks before this moment came. If the opportunity presented itself would he aim for the brain? That shot was by far the most difficult, it would take the most skill. But it would also have an instant result and leave no ruined meat. The far easier shot would be to go for the biggest target and his best chance of success, a lung shot.

His mind was made up and he could swear he felt his blood rushing faster as he readied to take the shot. He'd wanted this chance for so long and he didn't want to make a mistake now. He took a deep breath to calm his excitement and slowly raised the rifle while coaching himself to take it easy, take his time. He sighted his target in, took one more deep breath, steadied and let the bullet fly. He was ecstatic and relieved when the big animal fell to the ground. He was careful as he approached it, knowing he would be in extreme danger if the animal had any life left in him. But no, the shot to his head had killed him instantly.

Now the real work would begin.

It was important with such a big animal to start cooling it down right away. To that end he took his knife of choice and quickly gutted the big bull. He planned to quarter it right there in the field, load Blackie and Ginger with as much as they were able to carry to camp, then bring fresh horses back with him for the rest.

Everything was going just as he hoped when Blackie and Ginger both began snorting and blowing loudly, almost frantically. Daryl looked over his shoulder to see what had the animals spooked just in time to see a huge grizzly charging toward him. The hunter was an easy target, he was on the ground and close to the gut pile that had probably attracted the bear. His rifle lay five feet to his right, out of reach. Even in that split second he knew a bullet from the colt was all he had. He pulled the gun from the holster and knowing there was no time to aim, he shot.

It would not have mattered where the shot hit, the colt's bullet would amount to nothing more than a bee sting to the big beast. It was the scream from Blackie that distracted the grizzly. The big bear was standing on his hind legs now and he turned his attention to the horses. The beast's giant paws were waving at the air, ready to take a swipe at the filly's neck, an attack that would surely prove fatal to the young horse. In his heightened state of anxiety Blackie's ears were swiveling and his nostrils flared. He began the forcefully aggressive act of striking and his hooves seemed to almost be dancing in the face of the big grizzly.

The stallion's actions gave Daryl just enough time to roll to his right, grab the rifle and fire. One shot to the neck stopped the beast long enough for him to take aim and fire another shot to the bear's chest.

That wasn't the end of it though. As bears will do the big grizzly made his death charge. His huge paws with their enormous and deadly claws were again swiping at the air as he roared toward the hunter. There was nothing to be done but for the hunter to pull his knife and hope he could stay out of the charging animal's way until it died.

Just as the big paw was about to swipe his face Daryl rolled to his left, away from the horses so the bear would not try for them next. Part of his face slammed into a boulder half-buried in the ground while at the same time he felt one of the bear's claws dig into his side. The grizzily gave a final growl and fell hard to the ground not more than a few inches from Daryl.

The hunter fell onto his back, body drained and heart pounding. He gingerly ran his hand along his side and felt the warm liquid. He was grateful for the layers of clothing he wore, they had undoubtedly prevented a more serious injury, that and the bear's waning strength.

Blackie went to him, nuzzling his neck and softly nickering. Daryl smiled knowing it was Blackie who had saved both him and Ginger from that big bastard. He sat up and rubbed the horses muzzle, "I'm all right boy, you're all right and your sweetheart is too. What-say we get ourselves home?"

Home, the word had never sounded so good. Home to Heavenly, home to Beth.

A/N The hunt was a success if not without perils. Beth heard from family but it's got her feeling confused. Please leave a comment - you know I love to hear your thoughts. The chapter photo shows Bethyl as well as the Grizzly, Blackie and the Moose, it's on my tumblr blogs gneebee and bethylmethbrick. I hope to see all of you back here next Friday for more of A Place Called Heavenly. Until then remember, I love ya large! xo gneebee