A/N Thank you all so much, and I truly am sorry for the cliffie. This chapter is devoted to the few hours after Daryl finds Beth in the snow. I think you can see by the length of it why it needed to be it's own chapter :)
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The situation he faced was a desperate one. His wife was frozen and he was sure she was near death. Conditions were brutal with the snow blinding him and the wind making it nearly impossible to keep his footing. He didn't know how he was going to manage carrying her, hanging onto Blackie's reigns for guidance, and trudging through snow now three feet deep. Yet for him there was no question, no "impossible," no "can't," and no "maybe." He had to do this. He had to get Beth in the house and do what he could to keep the worst from happening.
The scarf was wrapped tightly around his face but still the ice and snow bit at his eyes and the air just kept getting colder. His pants were wet just from walking in the deep snow, and that wetness only added to the brutal cold. But her husband had no concern for himself, his only concern was her and getting her warm.
There was one brief moment of relief when he finally reached the front door, but there was no time to stop and enjoy the feeling. He had to act quickly. He hurried to the hearth and lay her down on the rug in front of it, as close to the fire as was safe.
He rushed to pull off her wet hat, gloves, coat and shoes, even her wool skirt which had become wet and heavy with the melting ice and snow. He stirred the coals and added logs to the fire, setting the big copper kettle in to heat water. He ran to their bedroom and grabbed the thick quilt from their bed, hurried back and covered her; tucking the blanket snugly around her frozen body. He rushed to their bathroom where he gathered all the towels, stopped to grab the lap blanket from the back of the sofa, then hurried back and set them all on the warm hearthstones to heat.
Her teeth were chattering so hard he was afraid she might break them, yet he was glad for it and for the fact her small body shivered so intensely. These were good signs it had not given up completely, her body was fighting to warm itself. He dropped to his knees beside her, his hand resting on her cheek as he pleaded, "Beth, Beth, Sweetheart, please Beth, please wake up. Ya gotta come back ta me, come back. Beth I need ya."
Her skin, always so white and appearing so delicate, was now completely devoid of color. The sight of that impossibly pale skin had him scared and heartsick. He lay down next to her kissing her cheek and rubbing his hand over her hair as he continued to beg, "Beth, please, please Beth wake up Sweetheart, please." His wife did not respond to his pleas.
He poured the hot water from the kettle into the belly warmer and wrapping one of the warm towels around it he slipped it under the quilt. He took the other now-warmed towels and the blanket, pulled the quilt back and tucked the towels under her arms, between her legs and lay the remainder on her chest and stomach, then covered her with the warm lap blanket. He pulled the quilt back over his wife, tucking it tightly around her to hold the heat in.
Her teeth were still chattering and her body still shivering, but he kept telling himself it was good. He prayed it was.
He'd been so consumed with warming her he'd hadn't gotten around to removing his own outdoor clothes. He quickly shed his coat, hat and gloves, even his wet pants. He did not bother to hang his things or put them away, he didn't have time for that. He simply cast all aside. When he got to the scarf he felt his breath catch. It was the scarf she'd made him and he was filled with both love for her and fear for her.
He was in a frantic state as he rushed to the cookstove and added more fuel to the firebox, then quickly went to the the kerosene heater and got it going as well. It occurred to him then, not only would her body need liquid, he needed to warm her insides too. He went back to the kitchen and partially filled a large cup with water, then added hot water from the kettle to the cup. He took a small sip, making sure it wasn't too hot.
He knelt by her side and cradled the back of her head as he lifted it from the floor. With cup in hand he let the rim touch her lower lip while he pleaded, "Beth, please Beth, try ta take a drink." He was both stunned and grateful when she did. She still hadn't opened her eyes but he was glad she'd swallowed at least some of the warm liquid.
Her teeth had eased their chattering and her body only shivered hard every minute or so. He told himself it was because her body was warmer. There was a little color coming up in her cheeks and he felt some relief as he lay her back down, tucking the quilt tightly around her once more. He knew he had to warm her all the way to the center of her small body and so he'd gotten the house excessively hot. Not too hot for her, but for him it was oppressive. He didn't worry for his own comfort though. Her recovery was all that mattered to him. He sat up and removed his shirt and his long underwear shirt, leaving only his sleeveless undergarment.
He knew a person's mind could go from hypothermia, even if their body didn't. Again, he lay down next to her and he wrapped his arm around her, his mouth to her ear when he whispered, "I love ya so much Beth. Please, ya gotta be alright, ya gotta open your eyes and say my name. Please Beth, please say my name. Let me know ya know I'm here."
He was certain that in all his years never had he said the word please more than he said it to his wife that day. He was rewarded when, in the softest voice he'd ever heard, she whispered, "Daryl."
He looked up saying a silent "thank you," before he answered, "I'm here, right here. I'ma always be right here with ya." The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the coughing started.
He was up on his knees again coaxing her, "Try ta roll on your side. C'mon now, I'll help ya." Her body was wracked by the heavy coughs and tears were streaming from her eyes. He rubbed her back as he explained to her what was happening, "It's just cuz of your lungs bein' froze and now they're thawin' out. It's alright Beth, it'll stop soon." He tried to sound so confident and reassuring, he didn't want his wife to know how scared he was.
She coughed so hard and it sounded so painful, and for nearly an hour there were only brief periods of calm. Her nose ran and tears came from her eyes, and he wasn't sure if she was crying or if they were watering from the coughing. Either way it didn't matter, all he could do was hold her, speak soft words he hoped brought her comfort, and dry her tears with his kerchief.
Finally the coughing stopped and he sat her up, "Ya warm yet?"
"I think so."
"Think? Well I'ma carry ya ta bed and start takin' your clothes off ya. Check your skin an make sure ya didn't get frostbite, then we'll get your gown on."
Her throat was sore from the coughing and her body and her voice were weak, yet she resisted, "Daryl, I can walk and I can take my own clothes off."
He didn't mean to raise his voice to her but he'd been so worried and afraid, now all those emotions were getting to him and he snarled, "Dammit Beth, just lemme do what I gotta do. Don't ya think ya done enough for one day?"
She managed to squeak out, "I'm sorry."
And he whispered, "I'm sorry too." He held her in his arms like it might be the last opportunity he'd ever have to do so. He carried her to their bed and gently lay her down there. He removed her stockings, relieved to see no signs of frostbite on her toes. He took a pair of the wool socks she'd made for him and dressed her in them. While he removed the rest of her clothing, save for the long underwear, he checked her fingers and her ears. They, along with her nose, were all showing a faint pink color. He felt some confidence that she'd been spared what could be the terrible aftermath of frozen skin.
As he dressed her in the long gown, retrieved the quilt and tucked it around her, he could smell the food she'd placed in the oven. "Was ya cookin' sumthin'?"
Her voice was so raspy and weak but he heard her clearly when she answered, "Yes it's our dinner. I had not yet stoked the firebox. I meant to do that later."
The anger and frustration he felt with what the day had brought made themselves known again when he reprimanded, "If ya woulda stayed in like I told ya ta do ya coulda tended ta that stuff. Shit Beth." He took a deep breath, trying hard to tamper down his emotions and calm his voice before he continued, "Anyway, I stoked that firebox plenty and the food's been cookin'. I'll feed ya here in a little bit. Right now, shit, I don't wanna leave ya, but I gotta see ta Blackie. He's out front, he's been waitin' there a long while. I gotta care for him and the other animals. I'll check on the food when I get back in."
"Daryl I can…" She began to pull the cover back as if she would rise from the bed and help him.
That's when he snapped. It had all been too much and now she was going to act as though it were a day like any other? He didn't let her finish speaking.
There was no more tampering down of emotions for him, he was letting those emotions lead the way. His voice was raised and filled with anger when he said, "I don't wanna be gettin' after ya Beth. I don't. Ya think about this though, as scared as you musta been today I guarantee I's more scared. I don't wanna think about what the consequence would be if Blackie hadn't sensed ya there. And I don't wanna believe you'd ever take a chance like that again. Don't ya trust me enough that when I tell ya stay in the house ya stay put?!"
"Shit, you're always talkin' about obeyin' and mindin'. I never asked it of ya, it was you promisin' those things. Ya know what I think about all that now? I think it was nuthin' but a load a bullshit. The most important thing I ever tell ya ta do, and ya…and ya what? Ya just say no? Fuck no? I ain't doin' what he says. I'ma do what I want? Why? Why the fuck would ya think that was a good idea? And just what the fuck do ya think would happen ta me if I's ta lose ya?" He did not apologize for his anger or his language.
She hadn't spoken. She just lay there, watching and listening as her husband said the angry words he needed to say to her. She almost wished he would punish her, she felt she deserved to be punished for what she'd put him through.
He'd been pacing the floor as he tried to get his anger under control, he wasn't succeeding and he was just about to lash out at her again, letting her know just how foolishly she'd behaved. Then he paused and looked at her. She appeared so small, so weak and fragile, and he thought how differently things might have turned out. How he could so easily have lost her.
Again he fell to his knees beside the bed and he took her in his arms. He held her so tightly and she held him just as tightly as her weakened state would allow. His face was buried in the crook of her neck and hers in his, and together they cried at the thought of all they might have lost that day.
He didn't want to leave her but his responsibilities were many. He drew back and let his fingers push the curls back from her face. In a far calmer voice he said, "I gotta see ta Blackie an the other animals now. Ya stay here in this bed and don't ya dare leave it. No matter how long I'm gone don't ya think ta come lookin' for me. Ya won't find me. Ya got any idea where ya even was out there?"
He voice was faint but she answered so positively, "I was between the house and the barn. Then I tripped."
"Ya see Beth? That there's the trouble. In a white-out ya can't tell your right from your left or up from down, everythin' looks the same. Blindin' white. Ya got no eyes ta see and no sense of direction. Just so ya know, you was at the front end of the property, just about 10 yards east a the root cellar. The opposite way a the barn."
There was alarm in her eyes and her hand went to her mouth when she whispered, "Oh my God."
"Yeah, that's right, oh my God. Now stay put."
"Yes Husband, I promise. I won't ever disobey you again, ever, not ever."
"It's probably gonna be a while 'fore I can believe that again."
He felt bad for being so harsh with her. He'd always been hopeful that never would he raise his voice to her for any reason. But the sight of her small body laying lifeless in the snow was an image he knew would haunt him forever. She needed to fully understand what the outcome could so easily have been.
His hand was on the front door handle and it was all he could do to push the lever down. He didn't want to leave her, but there was no one to do these things for him.
He whistled and Blackie came to him. The animal was smarter than most of the humans Daryl knew, and he was sure Blackie had been standing on the other side of the chicken coop where he'd be protected from the wind. He spoke to the stallion as if the animal would understand every word he was saying, "Sorry boy, this is a day you're gonna have ta take care a me. I can't see nothin', I need ya ta get ta the barn." Daryl knocked what snow and ice he could off the saddle, mounted the horse and when they'd walked for a bit he was relieved to see they were at the barn door.
There was a lot to be done but the blacksmith felt strongly that before anything else he owed Blackie his time. The animal had done everything he'd asked of him that day, and he wasn't done asking of him. Daryl took his time with the big stallion. He removed the saddle, took rags and wiped all the snow and ice he could from him. He carefully checked the animal over for any scrapes or other wounds he may have gotten. He examined his hooves and then gave him a good brushing. While he brushed he stroked a hand over the animal's coat, softly telling him over and over what a good horse he was.
He lifted the lid of a large wooden box and nestled between layers of straw, to protect them from freezing, were the apples and carrots. He fed the horse one of each, rubbed a hand along his forehead and nose, then leaned his own forehead against the horse's. "I owe ya everythin' Blackie. I owe ya my life and I owe ya Beth's."
The horse showed his love for the blacksmith by giving the only kind of hug a horse can. He carefully leaned himself into Daryl, using just enough pressure to show his affection without pushing the blacksmith off balance. As he leaned his weight on him the stallion nuzzled Daryl's neck and softly nickered. The blacksmith returned the hug wrapping an arm across the horse's neck. The exchange lasted for a few moments before the man asked the horse, "Whaddya think? Should we give a little attention ta your wife?" And the horse neighed in what Daryl was certain was agreement.
He fed all the animals and then sat on the milking stool next to Sally. He had the bucket ready under her, and as he milked her he carefully checked her udder for signs of trouble, especially mastitis. He guessed it had been about 30 hours since she'd last been milked. He was pleased to see the milk come easy and everything looked alright, but he'd be keeping a close eye on her for a while.
He would not bother to try and carry the milk bucket to the house. The milk wasn't needed that day and it would only add to the difficulty of his return to the house. He placed it in a corner thinking it would keep there just fine, and if it didn't, well there was simply nothing to be done.
He gave Blackie a handful of grain and apologized, "I gotta make ya go back in it boy. I ain't sure I can find my way home without ya." He covered the horse in the thick blanket and stuffed the hood in his coat. He wouldn't ask the horse to carry him, he would walk beside the stallion back to the cabin. "C'mon Blackie, take me home."
When they'd gotten back to the house he brushed the ice and snow off the horse's face and head. Blackie didn't like his eyes covered and the hood was modified so the horse could see. Daryl slipped the hood over Blackie's head and promised, "I'll be back out ta check on ya boy. Keep yourself under this porch as much as ya can," but he knew the horse would go wherever he was most comfortable.
Back in their home the first thing he did was check on her. She was as he'd left her, under the pile of blankets but now sound asleep. He was happy to see the color had returned to her cheeks, and he couldn't resist the temptation to run a finger along the curve of her sweet face to her jaw. He whispered, "Damn, I love ya so much. I…I…ya rattled me real bad today Beth."
He went to the kitchen and turned the spigot on hot. With all the wood he'd been burning he didn't have to wait long for warm water. He put his hands under the stream and let the heated water take the chill off his skin.
He hadn't had a bite to eat all day and whatever was in the oven smelled so good. He removed the heavy pan, lifted the cover and saw the roast and vegetables. It looked so good and he was so hungry. He was sure he could stand there and eat every bite of it straight from the pan.
What he did instead was set a cook pot on the stove and pour the drippings into it. He'd watched her make the gravy quite a few times and he hoped he could do it right.
She woke when he gently shook her shoulder, "Beth, Sweetheart. Time for ya ta eat."
"Oh. Oh my, I've been asleep a long time, haven't I?"
"Been a while. Did ya eat anythin' today?"
"No, I was waiting for you."
"Well ya need ta eat, it always helps healin'. Sit up there and I'll help ya."
"I'm going to eat my meal in the bed?"
"Yeah ya are."
"But Daryl I…" She stopped herself, she'd almost done it again. She was resolute she would not question her husband on this day. "Thank you, Daryl. This is so thoughtful, and oh my goodness just look, you made gravy.'
"I'm sure it ain't as good as yours but it's the best I could manage.'
"I'm sure it will be the best gravy I've ever had."
She sat up and he propped their bed pillows behind her, then lay the dishtowel across her lap before handing her the plate. He sat on the edge of the bed with his own dinner plate in his lap and took her hand. He said the blessing concluding with, "Thank ya God for sparin' my hardheaded wife today and leavin' her here for me ta care for." They smiled at each other and for the first time that day he relaxed. "I'm so hungry I could eat one a them elephants over there in Africa."
She smiled and said, "I'm not sure I could eat an entire elephant but maybe a beef."
After their dinner he straighten up the kitchen, checked on Blackie and then took the kerosene heater and placed it in front of the bathroom door. While the room heated he went for her. This time when he scooped her up in his arms she did not protest. She did not tell him she could walk herself.
He set her on her feet next to the tub and turned the spigot on. While their bath filled he removed his clothes and then hers, telling her, "A warm bath will help get ya thawed out all the way ta your center." He stepped in the tub, slid down and reached for her hands, "C'mon now, and just go slow, be careful."
She slipped her body between his legs, her back resting on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. He buried his face in her curls while he thanked God for letting him hold her again.
For a while they just lay there, enjoying the warm water and each other. He thought she may have fallen asleep again, but his wife never stopped surprising him. That night was no exception. She rubbed her palm lightly on his thigh and whispered, "If you want to...well you know, well we can. I'm willing."
He set a crooked finger beside her chin, coaxing her to turn her head and look at him when he answered, "Beth you're crazy. I think ya know I always want that with ya, but shit girl, ya almost just left this world. You're still weak an you're gonna be for a while. We'll catch up on that stuff when you're better."
"Oh thank goodness, I really didn't think I had the strength but I was disinclined to refuse you." She twisted her body around enough to rest her head on his chest when she whispered, "Thank you for saving me today and for being so forgiving of your wife."
He smiled, stroking a hand along her back when he said, "Never been bored bein' married ta you Mrs. Dixon."
He dried her body and dressed her in her nightclothes before he took the time to dry himself. He carried her to their bed, covered her and then slipped his long underwear on. "Be right back," he said as he left the room. He checked on Blackie and satisfied the horse was doing fine, he returned to their room and crawled in bed next to her.
She was cradled in his arms, her head nestled against his chest when he told her, "I'm sorry if I was mean to ya today, and I apologize for all the cussin' I done. But damn girl, darn girl, I always thought I wasn't scared a nuthin'. Today I found out just how scared I am a losin' you."
"You have nothing to apologize for, everything you said was the truth and I deserved the tongue lashing and far worse. I'm so sorry husband. I know you have trouble believing me, but I promise I will never disobey you again." She paused, smiling to herself when told him, "I will say I heard more colorful language today than I have heard in my whole life." Then she kissed his chest and whispered, "I love you so much Daryl."
"I love you too Beth, I just didn't know takin' care of ya was gonna be so damn, so darn much work."
They quietly laughed at his words and their laughter seemed to carry away all the heaviness they'd been feeling. He pulled her closer, her small arm wrapped around his waist more tightly, and together they slept.
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A/N That was a harrowing experience for both of them. I hope you enjoyed it and that you'll leave a comment / review. The chapter photo is on my story blog A Place Called Heavenly, and my other tumblr blogs gneebee and bethylmethbrick. Next chapter will find our couple still snowed in when a friend brings tragic news. We'll also see spring spring forth and all the many changes that will bring. I hope to see you back next Friday for more of A Place Called Heavenly. Until then remember, I love ya large and appreciate you greatly! xo gneebee