A/N Thank you all so much! We had such a lovely Christmas, and I'm pretty sure Andrea's gift to Beth did not disappoint Daryl :)
We move forward here and so much is going to happen, some of it good, some of it quite frightening. The winter we've all been anticipating has arrived, Daryl and Merle are busy on the claim, Beth finds herself in peril, and we'll also see a familiar character pop back in. Thank you for reading along.
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She'd been told so many times how bitterly cold the high country could be, but never could she have imagined this kind of cold. Amy had promised her, and Olivia had promised her, and Merna had promised her. They all said it would get easier on her in time, her blood would "thicken-up" after a winter or two. She prayed to God that was true.
She tried her best not to let her husband see how difficult that first winter was for her. He worked so hard at keeping their house warm and seeing to her comfort. She was astounded by his ability to continue doing what needed to be done despite the unbearably frigid temperatures and the winds that blew so hard.
Through it all her husband did what was necessary without complaint. Each morning while she prepared their breakfast in the warm kitchen, he would go out into that harsh weather to feed and care for their animals and make any necessary trips to the root cellar. He gathered firewood from the huge stack, knocking the ice and snow off the logs before bringing them to the porch, where he would neatly stack them once again to be brought in by the hearth as needed.
When he returned from his morning chores his facial hair, the scruff on his chin and upper lip, as well as his eyebrows and eyelashes would be crusted with snow and ice, his skin red and raw. He'd remove his coat, hat, scarf and gloves, smile at her and say such as, "I sure am glad ya made me these new socks and this scarf Beth, they keep me much warmer." She marveled at the man she'd married.
He'd been very firm with her on several occasions, she was not to go outside alone. Never. Not if he wasn't with her. "It ain't worth takin' a chance on Beth. I'll do whatever needs doin' out there. Ya stay in and ya stay warm, ain't nuthin' needs ta be done that you need ta do."
Saturday night they sat close together and close to the fire. He was sharpening his knives while she read. Her brother had sent her the novel called Jane Eyre for Christmas, and although it made her cry often, she enjoyed the story so much. When her husband saw her starting at the beginning of the book once again, he shook his head, "Beth ya read that book ten times if ya read it once."
"Well I enjoy it very much and I have only it, my bible and my other novel, Little Women, to read. I've read that one no less than ten times as well." It was as she said those words the idea came to her, she hoped she would have an opportunity to express it that coming Sunday at church.
Mostly housebound as she was, the piano he'd bought her turned out to be a Godsend. Not only did she love to sit and play, singing her hymns and old folk songs, but he loved to listen to her. It passed the time in a most pleasant way.
During this bitterly cold time she left their home only to teach at the school, if her husband felt it reasonable for her to be out, and to attend church. He'd do his best to bundle her up and protect her from the wind and cold, but there was no way to avoid the frozen air completely. She never let on to him just how cold she was though, for fear he wouldn't take her. Church had become an even more important part of her life. It was her only time to see her lady friends and to visit, and these times they were living in were exciting. Amy would be having her baby any day now and Lori's belly seemed to grow rounder with each passing Sunday.
She knew her friend was not having an easy time at home, but Lori shared that she and Rick had agreed to put Carl's well-being first. They were doing everything they could to keep their home happy and life "normal" for their son. "It's getting better Beth, a little better. I think some of Carl's excitement over a baby coming has rubbed off on Rick."
Beth did her best to be comforting and always promised, "I'm praying for you and Rick, your children and your marriage. I just know God won't let you down."
That Sunday, with her husband by her side she approached Mister Ezekiel King with her petition. She was nervous, but her husband had hold of her hand when she told the man, "The most wonderful thing I believe the mining company can do for Heavenly is to build us a lending library. It could be filled with classic novels and educational books, and there could be sections for both adults and children. It would be especially pleasing during these long winter months, the entire community would benefit."
It so happened that Carol Peletier and her daughter were standing quite close to Ezekiel King when Beth made her petition. They were quick to agree that her idea was perfect and just what the town needed. Knowing the fondness the man felt for Carol, Beth was certain he would do what he could to please the woman. Beth smiled at the thought her dream of a lending library may come to pass.
January 1882 started off relatively mild, at least mild enough that the delivery wagon made it through with his irrigation materials. Much of the irrigation for his and Merle's claims would be done via ditches. What he needed to accomplish was to get an adequate amount of water from the river into those ditches, and then from the ditches to the field.
He couldn't complain about the weather, not really. It was as expected. They were living in the Montana high country, and although it did seem to be exceptionally cold that winter he knew it would end and spring would come again.
He wasn't concerned for himself. He'd survived far worse winters under much less desirable conditions. It was Beth he worried about. She promised him she was just fine. She also told him she didn't mind at all that she was almost totally housebound. She was keeping herself busy not just with the cooking and the cleaning but with sewing, knitting, playing piano, and reading her bible and her novels. One of her favorite ways to pass the time was writing of her thoughts and memories in the beautiful journal her husband had made for her.
For now he was mostly anxious and he couldn't help feeling frustrated. He had the plans, he had the materials, and yet he faced the inability to get any of the work started. He'd hoped maybe he could, but by the end of January the weather had turned even more brutal. The winds were up, sometimes howling for days on end. There was blowing snow, the river was mostly frozen, and the ground most definitely frozen. He knew they would begin to work on the system come spring, he was just impatient.
He did not let the freezing temperatures keep him from his other work.
Even with the chinking he'd done and a good fire going in the hearth and the stove, he worried the house wasn't warm enough for her. He'd taken to hanging quilts over all the windows and he'd already revised his building plan for the new house, it would have two hearths and a small woodburning stove in the bedroom and one in the bathroom.
In an effort to keep the animals reasonably comfortable he had the kerosene heater in the barn going quite regularly. They seemed so different than humans though, he always marveled at how much better they were at adapting to the climate.
He had a second kerosene heater for the shop but he'd moved that in their home. He didn't run it all the time, just for thirty minutes first thing every morning to take the chill off, and before they took their bath. He did all he could think to do, including being up no less than twice a night stoking the hearth and the stove.
He didn't mind. He'd do anything to keep her warm, safe, and happy.
The snow, the wind and the bitter cold did not keep Daryl and his brother from cutting trees for their new homes. Virgil was capable of handling many of the day to day smithy tasks and so, every chance Daryl got during the week he left the shop in his nephew's hands while he went to the woods to cut trees. Saturdays his brother joined him, and they worked from the first light of morning until the last of the afternoon light was gone.
They hadn't cleared the snow for roads, the sleds moved more freely and quickly with a good snowpack under the skis. However, Daryl did clear a broad area of the land where the building logs were being stacked.
The blacksmith had fashioned a large metal blade with a flat front, added a diagonal blade on either side of it, and he pulled the heavy contraption behind a sort of half-wagon. It worked well at clearing the area they required for stacking the building logs.
Once a log was cut it was quickly delimbed and the cut-away branches saved for kindling. The logs were then pulled by the horses to be added to the building pile. The hard work kept the brothers warm despite the cold temperatures.
It was February mid-month when Reg Monroe came by the shop to have a word with the smithy. Daryl knew it was something of importance when the man asked, "Do you suppose you could leave young Virgil in charge long enough to come have a whiskey with me at the saloon? I need to discuss an idea with you."
Reg lead them to a table in the back, about as far away from anyone or anything as they could get. He had the bottle on the table and the men had their glasses. He let Dwight know they did not wish to be disturbed when he advised the barman, "We'll call you over if we require anything further."
Daryl couldn't imagine what the hell was going on. He was uncomfortable about not just what might be coming, but with spending his time in a saloon during work hours. He would not have agreed if it weren't for the fact that Reg was his best account. Since that was indeed the case, and because Daryl was a businessman, he planned to simply sit quietly and listen to what the man had to say.
Monroe looked at him and got right to it, "You know my son Spencer came home just two days before Christmas. He was still in pretty rough shape so we had him convalesce a few more weeks. He's healed up now and he needs to get back to work." He took a small sip from his glass before continuing. "The trouble is I can't be having him work at our ranch." Reg's voice lowered when he added, "I mean it when I tell you, he's different now, more agreeable and anxious to do his work, but there's a problem." He paused again and sipped again, "this can't go further than you and me or she'll surely kill me, but my wife coddles him. She treats him like a weak child when it's long passed the time he should be acting like a man."
Daryl was too smart to make any remark one way or the other about that statement. He simply took a sip from his glass and nodded ever so slightly.
"Now I know you Daryl, I know the man you are and I admire that man very much, that's why I'm coming to you with a proposal. I want you to put my son to work on your land claim." On those words the blacksmith swallowed his entire glass of whiskey.
He was as uneasy as he'd ever been, biting his lip while he pulled at the hair of his chin. He couldn't turn down a request from Monroe, not from his best customer. The trouble was he didn't want Spencer working for him, and he damn sure didn't want him around Beth. So he risked it, "I'm sorry Reg, I can't."
"Why?"
He did his best to sound reasonable, "Me and Merle are tryin' ta do all we can just ourselves, we're hopin' not ta pay out too much in wages. If I'ma pay a man it's gotta be a hardworkin' man, like Tyrese. A fella who ain't afraid ta get out there in that freezin' weather and bust his ass cuttin' and delimbin' trees, along with whatever else me or Merle might ask him ta do."
He bit his lip so hard he nearly drew blood when he added, "And Reg, I think ya know, your son tried ta keep company with Beth while he was engaging Andrea at the saloon. I don't mean ta be unreasonable, but I don't care ta have him near my wife."
Reg couldn't disagree with what the smithy said. He nodded, swallowed the liquid in his class and stated his case, "I don't want you to pay him. This is a service you would provide to me. Based on how you tell me he's doing, that's what I'll be paying him. I look at this as furthering his education. You and Merle are the teachers, he's the student. I'm thinking about my son's future just like I did when I paid thousands of dollars to send him to college. What he could learn from you and your brother is of far more value in this country." He took on a pleading tone as he added, "If he doesn't learn how to work hard now, what will he do when his Mother and I are gone?"
Then the man did manage to shock Daryl completely, "You have my agreement and consent to tell Spencer that if he so much as glances sideways at Beth you'll kill him. That's another lesson it won't hurt him to learn, stay away from that which belongs to another."
The blacksmith understood and was sympathetic to everything Reg was saying, but Daryl was perplexed. He could keep Spencer working on jobs way the hell away from Beth, and him and Merle could use the help. But could he really let a man, Spencer or anyone else, work for him and not pay that man himself?
Then Reg looked at him and said, "Please Daryl. Please, give it a week. If you're not happy then send him on his way."
On that he almost answered yes, but a thought came to him and he told the man, "I need ta talk ta my wife first. I want her say on this. Come by tomorrow and I'll have your answer."
"That's fair, and thank you smithy."
He got back to the shop and he wasn't there five minutes when Abraham stopped by. He had a knife he wanted sharpened, but Daryl sensed that wasn't the only reason the Deputy was there. Smithy didn't ask questions though, he knew he didn't need to. He was going to hear whatever it was whether he wanted to hear it or not. Sure enough, as Daryl handed Abraham back the sharpened knife, the man said, "Guess I oughta tell ya this before someone else does. Rosita and me, we split the sheets. She's moved into the saloon to live and work."
Daryl didn't know the circumstances or what he should say so he simply said, "Shit, sorry ta hear it."
Abraham, never one to mask his feelings, replied, "Well don't be, I'm not. She likes men and she'll find plenty of them there."
It sounded as cold as the weather, but that was that and Daryl didn't ask questions.
There was nothing better than coming home to her at the end of his day. She always greeted him with a smile, her slim arms wrapping around him. It was a feeling like no other to hold her and have her holding him.
He washed up and helped her carry their dinner of chicken and noodles, biscuits and butter to the table. They stood holding hands while he said the blessing, and then sat to share the meal. He smiled at her as he filled their plates, telling her, "It looks real good Beth, smells that way too."
They'd had a few bites and he told her the gossip first. "Abraham come by ta see me today and he told me he and Rosita have parted ways. I guess she's gone ta work at the saloon."
Beth was stunned by the news, "Oh my, that's terrible. They're getting a divorce?"
Daryl shrugged and told her, 'I don't think they was ever married Beth."
"What? Um, why…well oh my."
He expected his sweet wife would be shocked, but it was the way of many folks and he did his best to explain, "It happens that way, 'specially cuz there ain't always a judge around and such. Folks move in, call themselves married and if they stick it out, in the eyes a the law they are married."
"Well yes, I know of common law."
"The thing is, they also got a lotta excuses they can use ta walk away if they decide they're done with bein' married."
She wasn't sure why she felt so distressed. She was not close with Rosita. Still marriage to Beth Dixon was a commitment she could not imagine walking away from, and there was something else, "She's gone to work at the saloon…to be a…?"
He didn't make her say it, he knew what she was getting at, "I ain't sure cuz I didn't ask, but I think that's the only kinda work they got for women at the saloon."
She was still staring at him in disbelief when he told her the story of Reg Monroe, and the request the man had made. "I don't know how ta feel about Spencer bein' anywhere on our land. I'm leavin' this up ta you."
She looked at him, studying his eyes and she knew, it truly was up to her.
Her husband worked so hard and she wanted him to have the help. She also wanted him to rest easy with the decision to employ Spencer Monroe.
She took the napkin and dabbed at the corners of her mouth, and looking in his eyes she asked," Do you see that shotgun leaning up against the wall, there by the door?"
He was pretty sure he knew where she was heading and he tried hard to hide his smile when he answered, "Yeah, I see it."
"My husband has made certain I am very well-skilled with that shotgun. He insists I keep it right there where it is, handy. He has instructed me, and quite sternly, if ever I am to feel threatened by anyone in any way, I must shoot to kill. I desire to always to be a good wife and to obey my husband, and so, if Spencer Monroe, or any man, should show himself to me in a threatening way I shall do as my husband wishes."
He could no longer hide his smile. He took her hand, held it and leaned close, kissing her lips. "Ya make the best damn chicken, I mean darn chicken in the world Beth."
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He shot straight with Reg, "I'ma give him a chance and I'ma be workin' him hard. He'll be in the woods for now, cuttin' and delimbin' trees. It's cold, it's dangerous and I expect him ta put out the work same as me and Merle do." He pursed his lips, looked right in the other man's eyes and said, "My wife has a shotgun sittin' right by our door. She ain't afraid ta use it."
Reg nodded in agreement, "I want you to be hard on him, it's what he needs and I appreciate you teaching him what his Mother and I couldn't seem to. As for Beth, I don't fault you for your concern, and I understand there are times a woman must take matters into her own hands. I feel confident my son won't give her a reason to."
The merciless beating, the near loss of his life and months of convalescing had changed him. Spencer Monroe had indeed become a different man. Daryl and Merle both saw it from the first day. He was quiet, not so full of himself and he was ready to work. He promised the blacksmith, "I know I've been an asshole but I'm different now. It was a hard lesson but I learned it." Then he looked in Daryl's eyes and said, "I know I was disrespectful with Beth. I'm apologizing to you for that and I wish you'd tell her how sorry I am. I promise both of you, if I should happen to see Beth in town or anywhere else, I will treat her with the respect a lady such as her deserves."
It all sounded real good to Daryl but he was cautious. For all he knew Spencer had rehearsed those words. Still he'd made a promise and he followed through. He gave the man his chance and Spencer proved himself. He wasn't particularly skilled but he was willing to learn. Once he had a few days of work under his belt he got in stride. He couldn't put the work out like the Dixon brothers, but then no one else could have either.
So much had happened in the two weeks since Spencer went to work for the brothers. Amy had her baby, a sweet little girl she and Zach named Delia. Daryl took Beth to visit and they brought a stew and cookies for the new parents, and tiny knit booties for the baby. It was when they got home that she asked him, "Daryl, do you think it's time we should be thinking about having a baby too?"
His look was so serious, "Soon. Alright?" He had so much on his mind and so much work that needed to be done he questioned if there was really time for a child in his life. Still his heart was with her heart. He wanted to have a child with the woman he loved.
"Yes, alright. We'll wait until you think it's time." She put her hand on his chest, smiling up at him when she said, "I don't think I've ever seen anything sweeter than when you held baby Delia."
"Yeah, that's me, sweet."
"You are indeed Mister Dixon."
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March brought weather even more brutal than February's. That first Sunday of the month Daryl said absolutely "no" to church. He knew it meant so much to her and he felt bad he couldn't take her, but the weather was simply too disagreeable. It wouldn't be wise to risk it.
They were still in bed, her wrapped in his arms and him holding her close. They listened as the hard pellets of ice noisily hit their bedroom window and the wind howled so loudly she felt scared. He told her, "I ain't havin' ya out there Beth. That ice is blowin' and when it hits ya it's painful and dangerous. That ain't all, by the time we was ta get outta services the sled would likely be completely iced over and frozen ta the ground. I can't take that kinda chance with ya."
He said he was going to ride Blackie over to check on Merle and his family, and let them know there would be no trip to church. "It's best I go now, before the weather gets worse and before they get all dressed up. I can wait on breakfast and the animals can wait on me. I ain't gonna be gone long. Ya stay right here in bed and stay warm." He slipped from their bed and looked at her with a smile as he tucked the quilt in around her. Only half-teasing he said, "Maybe when I get back I'ma have ta crawl back in here with ya."
He saddled the horse and did his best to protect Blackie's eyes from the wind and snow. The big stallion stood tall and had no fear of wind or snow. As long as his master was riding him he would go where he was told. It was Ginger who was unhappy as she watched them leave the barn, letting out a distressed sounding neigh. Daryl called back to her, "Don't worry, I'll get your husband home soon," and Blackie neighed as if in agreement.
He got to Merle's just as his brother had taken hold of the door to his root cellar and opened it slightly. It was then a powerful gust of wind raged through, nearly knocking Daryl off Blackie. What it did do was blow the door to the root cellar completely off it's hinges. Merle still had hold of the handle as he and the door went flying, hitting the ground hard.
Daryl quickly dismounted and hurried toward his brother. Yelling so as to be heard over the noise of the wind, he asked, "Ya okay, can ya walk?"
Merle hollered back, "Might need a little help, I landed hard on that left leg."
Daryl got his brother in the house where Karen and the children waited anxiously. Daryl told them, "I gotta go get that door back on or you'll have a cellar full a snow n ice."
Virgil volunteered, "I can help ya uncle."
His uncle refused, "Nah, ain't no reason we both gotta suffer. Ya stay here and help your Mama and Daddy."
He made his way to the shed and found the tools. It was ten times the job it would have been if the wind, the snow and the ice weren't hammering him. As it was he found it difficult to breath and nearly impossible to see. The frozen metal hinges and ice-cold tools made the job all that much more difficult. A job that should have taken him ten minutes took more than a half hour.
He returned the tools to the shed, then stepped in his brother's home only far enough to ask, "What was ya after in the cellar? I'll get it."
Merle was not used to having someone else do his work, but his family had to eat. He answered, "I's gonna bring up enough meat and vegetables ta get us through the next three days or so. This weather's liable ta get worse."
"Yeah, I done the same yesterday. I'll go get what ya need." Again Virgil offered to help and again his uncle refused, "When I ain't here that's when ya gotta take over Virg."
It took him two trips but he got everything they needed up from the cellar. He fed the chickens and broke the ice off their water. There were no eggs to be gathered, the chickens were too cold to lay. He stacked firewood by the door, and fed his brother's horse and put the horse blanket and hood over him. Finally he thought he'd done enough. Everything should be good for the rest of that Sunday. He kicked the snow off his boots and went back in to let them know all was well and to say goodbye.
Karen insisted he warm himself by the fire and drink a cup of hot coffee before he left. "It won't do you a bit of good to freeze to death Daryl. Get yourself warm before you set back out."
By the time he headed home to her he'd been gone more than two hours.
She'd managed to stay in bed only fifteen minutes after her husband left. Their bed just wasn't as warm without him lying in it with her. She rose, put on her sweater and wrapped the shawl around herself. Then she got busy. He'd be home soon and she wanted to have his coffee ready when he arrived. She put the big pot on the hearth and got everything out for their breakfast, but she waited to begin cooking. She wanted his food to be fresh and warm.
She went back to their bedroom and dressed in the long underwear and her wool skirt. Again she wore both her sweater and the shawl. She decided to keep busy preparing the roast and vegetables they would have for their Sunday dinner. She kept the fire in the stove low, she didn't want dinner to be ready too soon.
She'd been uncomfortable with him leaving at all, but when he'd been gone nearly two hours she became quite anxious. What if he was lost? No, not Daryl, he would never be lost. But what if Blackie got hurt? She began to imagine all manner of terrible things and she was becoming more uneasy by the moment.
Then she began to worry about the animals. Sally hadn't been milked and Ginger, Ginger hadn't had a thing to eat and she had a baby growing in her. She decided she would take care of the animals. After-all, Daryl didn't have to do everything. She was perfectly capable, and she surely didn't want the animals to suffer.
She'd worked herself into a complete state of distress by the time she put her coat, her scarf, hat and gloves on. She knew the weather was terrible, but she hadn't been prepared for anything even close to what she encountered as she stepped out the door. The visibility was so bad she couldn't focus in on a thing, and her husband was right. The pellets of ice hitting her face were painful and the wind bitterly cold, strong and frightening. She was barely able to keep her feet under her.
Although she couldn't see the barn she didn't feel too concerned. She knew right where it was, and she began to walk in that direction. She found herself nearly doubled over in an attempt to fight against the force of the wind. Her body hurt from the cold and her face felt numb, and then it happened. She tripped.
She fell forward but it didn't hurt as much as it might have. The fresh snow was far softer than hard ground would have been. She lay there for a moment, catching a breath and getting her bearings. Yes, she nodded trying to convince herself everything was alright, and she was sure she was heading the right way. She attempted to stand but for some reason she felt so weak and the wind was so powerful. The more she tried the more tired she became. The frozen air burned her throat and her lungs, and it was so hard for her to keep her eyes open.
Gradually she began to feel warmer and her eyes were so heavy she was going to close them for just a moment. She was sure if she just rested for a few minutes she'd get her strength back.
The wind, the ice and the snow all bit at his face and his eyes. He kept his head just as low as he could. He had a plan to get himself and Blackie right to the barn, get the saddle off the horse, and get him groomed. He'd hurry to feed the rest of the animals, milk the cow and then take the milk to Beth. Once he'd assured her all was well he'd venture back out one more time to care for the chickens. He was starving and hoping whatever she fixed for breakfast wouldn't take long.
He wouldn't have attempted anything he'd done without Blackie. In these white-out conditions Daryl had trouble discerning what was what himself, and which direction was correct. Blackie knew the way on some kind of instinct, at least Daryl trusted that's how it was.
They were moving at a slow walk. In the deep snow that was more than enough of a workout for the animal. Daryl sensed they were back on the property, he thought he could just make out the faint outline of the house. Suddenly Blackie reared back, front hooves in the air as if he was slapping the wind. The horse screamed and Daryl knew something terrible was wrong.
He pulled up on the reigns, wiped the snow from his face and looked around. He saw it just a few feet away. Something dark laying in the snow. "Is that it Blackie? Is that what's got ya upset?" The words were no sooner out of his mouth than Blackie was again up on his hind legs, screaming and front hooves dancing in the air.
Daryl tried to calm the stallion, "Alright boy, I'll check. Wait." He hurried to the dark shape and his heart froze as he yelled, "Beth! Beth!" He picked her up in his arms and held her close. He couldn't see anything but white and the faint shape of the big black horse. He whistled and the horse came to him. He took a handful of reign and hollered, "Home Blackie, home," praying to God the big animal's senses didn't fail him now.
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A/N Dang, well at least with Blackie's help Daryl found Beth. Please leave a comment / review and let me know what you think (no yelling :). The chap photo is on my tumblr blogs gneebee, bethylmethbrick and A Place Called Heavenly. I hope to see you back next Friday when we'll pick right back up where we left off. In the meantime remember, I love ya large and appreciate you all so much! xo gneebee