The next morning, On Christmas Eve, Daryl double checks that his secret stash of Christmas gifts for Herhsey and Carol is still well hidden in the shed before he goes hunting. He meets up with John in the morning as the last of the snow melts in trickling streams down the tree-lined, Virginia hills. The Hilltop didn't get so heavy a blanketing as the Kingdom, but it was still surprised by six inches of snow, some of which lingers in dirty clumps. It won't be a white Christmas after all, but it will be a wet one.
Most of the other hunters have taken both today and tomorrow off, but neither Daryl nor John can ignore the call of the forest. They might as well have. A deer eludes them, and Daryl loses an arrow in the process, which snaps in half when he tries to yank it from the tree where it has deeply lodged itself. He curses and Merle whimpers. "Ain't mad at you," he tells the dog.
"I think he misses Daisy," John says. The new mother has been relieved of her hunting duties until the puppies are weaned. "How's she doing by the way?"
"I been keepin' Merle off 'er," Daryl assures him. "'N Hershey off the puppies."
John looks around the forest. "We're gonna have to go back to playing the sit and wait game. I've been collecting acorns for bait. You repair that ghillie suit?"
"Yeah. But I like trackin' better."
"The trees are too bare. They can see us coming now. It's our only choice. You and Henry got one that way recently, didn't you?"
"Mhmhm."
"I've been thinking it might be time for our boys to lead their own hunting team. Take the west hunting grounds to themselves."
Daryl glances at him. He thinks Henry's probably ready for that leadership role, but he's not so sure Jacob is.
John laughs. "Your face speaks volumes, Daryl. I know Jacob's got a lot to learn…but he'll defer to Henry. He usually does."
"A'ight. Run it by my deputy director."
"Does Cyndie have to approve your decisions now?"
"Nah, but she keeps all the rosters. Does all the schedulin'. Reports."
As they turn and walk a little farther into the woods, John asks, "So what do you do now, then?"
"Hunt more," Daryl mutters.
"It's a wise man who knows how to delegate."
Daryl walks backwards a few steps and slides some wet, snow-flecked leaves to the side with his boot. "Well lookey here."
"Bobcat?"
"Mhmhm," Daryl agrees. "Two of 'em." He points at a faint print in the muddy earth beside a patch of snow.
"That's odd. They're usually solitary creatures."
"Yeah. Must be matin' early. Usually don't start 'til January or February."
"Well, we better snag those cats, or they'll be taking down our deer."
Daryl smacks his lips. "Make a good barbacoa, too."
They follow the tracks for a while, but they go a long way and disappear through a creek.
"They pick up on the other side," John says when Daryl stops at the edge.
"Carol wants me to go to church with 'er this evenin'. Gotta get back 'n get cleaned up."
"Well, at least I don't have to do that anymore, I suppose. He'll be taking her to church now."
Daryl doesn't respond, because he doesn't know what to say that. It makes him uncomfortable when John talks about Julie, not just because he feels bad for his friend, but because it reminds him that sometimes women leave. Not that Carol's has any reason to leave him, he doesn't think, but sometimes he still wonders how he ended up with her. In the end, though, all it took was a few words:
"Don't marry 'em. There ain't no fuckin' chemistry there, and ya know it."
"Is that the only reason, Daryl?"
Shifting eyes, a thumb in the mouth, the hang nail torn to shreds…
"Is it, Daryl?"
"N I can't lose ya. 'Cause I love ya."
Hell, if he had known that was all it would take, he'd have said it when she started rubbing shoulders with Tobin.
"You go on back," John tells him. "Make your woman happy. I'll track the cats on my own."
"Be careful. Them cats can be sneaky."
"You hunt alone all the time." John pats his rifle. "And Betsy is a reliable companion. More reliable than most."
"Ya named yer rifle?"
John winces. "Julie did, actually. Used to say she was my greater love. Guess I've always spent too much time hunting. At least it's my job now."
"Want Merle?"
"No. Merle doesn't obey anyone but you."
"Suit yerself." Daryl whistles and the dog follows.
[*]
The hazy light of the setting sun filters in through the painted, arched windows of the chapel. The four Advent candles, all lit now, flicker in the dark green wreath near the altar. Oil lamps stand ready to be ignited when it grows darker.
"You may be seated," Father Gabriel intones, and there's rustling and a clattering of bodies against wood as the congregation, jostling for space in the cramped chapel, eases down into the pews and onto the folding chairs that line the back.
Because of the lack of seating, Hershey stands lounged back against Henry's knees for now, making funny faces at Gracie, who is sitting sideway on Aaron's lap in the pew in front of them, her arms draped around her father's neck, and trying not to giggle at Herhsey's attempts. She fails, and a long chortle escapes her.
"Settle down," Aaron scolds gently and then makes her sit forward on his lap. Hershey frowns.
Jesus mutters, "You can't expect her to sit still for this."
This is the first time Carol has ever seen Jesus in church – well, that Jesus - though she's often seen Aaron. She supposes Jesus is being a dutiful husband, like Daryl, who is currently wedged against her side, no doubt trying to avoid too much physical proximity to the Oceanside woman on his left.
Daryl's arm is squished so tightly against Carol's that he eases it out and extends it back across the wooden pew behind her instead. She likes the small public display of affection – even if it's because he was cramped – and she leans her head against his shoulder as the homily begins.
She places a hand on his knee and feels that the fabric of his tan khakis is no longer stiff, but actually has a little give to it now. He took this pair of pants new from the storage house for Easter service five years ago and has worn them precisely two times a year since, on his Christmas and Easter trips to church with her. His forest green, button-down shirt is more well-worn, and the color is starting to fade in places, but she's laundered and pressed it.
Daryl leans his head down and whispers in her ear the same thing he does every year, "How long's this part?"
"As long as it always is," she whispers back. She kisses his cheek. "Thank you for coming. It means a lot to me."
"Mhmhm." His eyes flit over the well-fitting, red, ankle length dress she wears. She wears dresses to church sometimes, even though this is the least practical world in which to wear them, simply because she never got to wear pretty things with Ed. The black combat boots that peek out from under the hem are probably not the most fitting match for the dress, however. Not that Daryl seems to mind. "Ya look real nice," he whispers.
Carol smiles. Father Gabriel talks on. Hershey draws with a finger in the rays of setting sunlight reflecting on the back of the pew, cutting the light with shadows, as he bounces restlessly forward and back against Henry's knees.
Eventually, they all rise again, Daryl standing first on the priest's command to give Carol the space to rise and then extending a hand to her to help her up. After a hymn, they're kneeling for confession and then saying the communion liturgy, which Daryl does not join in except for the Lord's Prayer - the one thing he knows by heart. His grandfather taught it to him, he told Carol, when he was five, and he's never forgotten anything he's memorized.
When it's time to go up to the rail for communion, Daryl gets out of the way of the people exiting the pew, but then he stays behind. He's not the only one to do so, although Father Gabriel always emphasizes that communion is "open to all baptized Christians."
"Ain't baptized," Daryl told her, with something like alarm, the first time he went to church with her.
"Then you can just come up and cross your arms over yourself and get a blessing."
He shook his head like a little boy who's been asked to enter a dark cave alone, except if he was a little boy asked to enter a dark cave alone, he'd probably have plunged right in.
Now Carol returns to the pew where Daryl is waiting and chewing on his thumbnail. She kneels on the kneeler and prays silently for her family before sitting back, and she can feel Daryl's puzzled eyes on her. He's never understood this aspect of her personality, and she doesn't really either, except that she still has fond memories of going to church with her mother when she was very young, before Mama lost herself in wine and then was lost forever. Church was also her one respite from Ed, the one thing she got to have that was entirely her own. It's funny now how much she wants to share it.
Carol's favorite part of the Christmas Eve service comes at the very end, when the candles are distributed, and they all stand and sing Silent Night together as they share the flame from candle to candle. Herhsey's wick catches fire from Henry's, and the little boy holds the flickering flame up to Carol, who takes his light and then extends its glowing warmth to Daryl. Daryl bows his candle down to hers, buries it in the depths of her flame, and draws it out carefully again. Soon, the entire chapel is bathed in light.