AN: Here we go, another chapter here.
I've had people ask me before in other stories, so I'll address it now in case it needs to be addressed. Is Daryl stupid? No. Is he a simple man? Yes. Is he uneducated? Absolutely. But he's not stupid. It'll become clear as we go through this story that none of the characters are really formally educated. Daryl is one of the least educated of them all as far as formal education goes. However, that does not mean he's stupid or incapable in the slightest. It's simply that his life never allowed for a formal education.
I hope you all enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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Daryl choked down the biscuits and ham that he had for lunch in a matter of minutes and washed the whole mess down with as much water as he felt his body would hold. With what was left of his break to eat, he'd crossed the span of ground between where he was working in the barns and where Hershel was out looking over some of his stock. The old man was more approachable than Daryl's last boss—the man who'd paid their fare from Georgia to the big state of "West"—and he was a good deal more approachable than the man that Daryl remembered as having been his old man.
Hershel was so approachable, in fact, that he and his wife sometimes let Merle and Daryl come down from the attic to eat their dinner at the big table in his house where they all sat around and passed plates heaped with food back and forth to each other like they were family. He told Daryl stories about God and Jesus and things that his mother had talked about sometimes when he was growing up. And he read to them from a big black book that told them stories about how they could be good people and about how he'd become good people when his wife had helped him figure out he was sliding down some kind of slope toward the opposite.
Hershel claimed his wife had saved his life and saved his home after the death of his first wife—a fine lady no doubt—had almost caused Hershel to lose everything he'd worked so hard to build. Hershel understood wives and he understood, Daryl could imagine, worms in the brain that would keep him so unfocused that he'd burned himself that morning on a branding iron that he knew was hot.
Hershel would understand that Daryl needed to go and get Carol to make her his own wife and, having gotten two wives of his own, he would know exactly what it was that Daryl needed to make sure he was bringing her back with him.
As Daryl approached Hershel, Hershel held a hand up to him to let him know that he didn't want him to come any closer because the heifer he was looking at was one of the more skittish that they had on the farm. Daryl kept his distance, waited Hershel out, and then greeted him with a solid nod of the head when Hershel approached him in turn.
"Something I can help you with, Daryl?" Hershel asked.
"Actually, there is," Daryl said.
"Go ahead," Hershel said, prompting Daryl to continue speaking when he fell off to wonder how exactly he should present things to the man.
"I wanna get married," Daryl said, deciding that there wasn't any way to present things to Hershel other than to simply lay them out there in plain English. If Hershel was surprised at all, his expression didn't give it away.
"To anyone in particular?" Hershel asked. Daryl nodded his head in response. "Who's the young lady?"
"Carol," Daryl said.
"Carol?" Hershel asked. "Carol who, Daryl?"
Daryl shook his head.
"She don't got a last name," Daryl said. "At least—I don't know it."
Hershel laughed to himself.
"If you don't even know her last name, son, then I'm not sure it's time to be considering something as serious as marriage. How long have you known her? Where do you know her from?"
Daryl swallowed and it hung in his throat like his spit was more than just liquid.
"Known her long enough," Daryl said. "We already done the things that's fit for doin' with a wife."
Hershel raised his eyebrows at Daryl.
"I see," Hershel said. "Well—depending on who the young lady is, some would say you've got an obligation to marry her, son. If you've had relations with her?"
Daryl nodded his head.
"I aim to do just that," Daryl said. "Marry her, I mean. Done done the other."
"And you want me to talk to her father?" Hershel asked. "On your behalf? Is that what you're asking?"
Daryl shook his head at Hershel.
"She ain't got no father," Daryl said. "Not one that I know of."
"Daryl, I'm starting to wonder about what kind of young lady you've found yourself if she doesn't have a last name and she doesn't have a father," Hershel said. "Where does this young lady—this Carol—where does she live?"
Daryl gnawed his lip.
"That's the thing," Daryl said. "She lives at this house in town. She ain't got no parents like me but...this Miss Andrea? I reckon she's like her ma."
"A whore, Daryl?" Hershel asked.
Daryl felt the blood rush to his face in the familiar sensation that he'd felt the night before when Merle had mentioned Carol's current profession. It was a job, just like any other job. That's what Daryl told himself. She needed money, just like he needed money, and she needed a roof over her head. Maybe, like Daryl, she didn't have a real education and she didn't have family to take care of her. She was doing what she had to do. That's what they all did. It didn't mean they had to like everything that they did, it just meant that they had to do it.
Finally, Daryl nodded his head slightly.
"Just until I marry her," Daryl offered. "Then she ain't gonna be no whore because she's gonna be my wife. And wives don't be whores too."
Hershel laughed to himself and Daryl was almost offended by the sound. It was as though he didn't believe Daryl.
"Whores don't marry, son," Hershel offered. "And decent young men don't marry whores. You shouldn't even be visiting a house of ill-repute like that. Less likely planning on marrying one of the whores. That's Merle's poor influence."
Daryl shook his head. He almost felt like there were tears coming up in his eyes. He could feel the pressure inside his skull that either signaled that he was fighting crying—something that was hardly ever right for a man to do but that plagued him something awful when it was all too much—or that the worms that were eating his brain were trying to get out through his eyeballs. At the moment, he was praying for worms.
"Beg pardon," Daryl said, "but she's gonna marry me. And I'm gonna marry her."
Hershel stared at him somewhat intensely. He nodded his head, finally, at Daryl.
"You really got yourself set on making an honest woman out of this woman?" Hershel asked. "Making an honest woman out of Carol?"
Daryl nodded his head.
"More'n I ever been set on anything," Daryl confirmed. "Beg pardon but...I didn't come here for your permission. I come here to ask you a question."
"What's your question, Daryl?" Hershel asked.
"What do I need to get a wife?" Daryl asked. "I got money. I got almost every dollar you've ever paid me and some of what extra I earned before. What else do I gotta have to get a wife?"
"Taking on a wife is a big responsibility, Daryl," Hershel said. "You need somewhere to live. You need a steady source of income. You need some prospects for a future if you're going to offer her one. Most women aren't going to marry a man who has nothing but his name."
Daryl shook his head.
"I don't even got that," Daryl said. "Not one that's worth nothin'. All I got is money. But if money can buy me what I need? Then you tell me what I need and I'll get it bought."
Hershel considered Daryl's face for a moment and Daryl held his eyes even though he had the uncomfortable desire to look away. Hershel nodded his head at Daryl again and hummed before he finally chose to speak.
"Let me ask you a question, Daryl," Hershel said. Daryl nodded his acceptance of whatever question the old man might have. "Why do you want to marry this woman? Do you love her?"
Daryl swallowed. It was finally time for him to break the hold that his eyes had on the old man. He looked at his feet and he looked at the dirt between them. He watched a big black ant that was making its way across the ground carrying dirt to wherever it was headed. Maybe the ant had a wife. Maybe he was building her a home with the dirt that he was hauling from a ridiculous distance away.
"I don't know a lot about love," Daryl said. "But I know she give me worms on the brain—and I gotta make 'em be still. And they ain't gonna be still until she says she's gonna be my wife for every day we got from here on out."
"Worms on the brain, Daryl?" Hershel asked.
"Thinkin' about her," Daryl said. "Thinkin' about makin' her my wife. The thoughts are crawling around in my brain. Just like worms and bugs. I can't think of nothin' else. Didn't sleep last night or the night before. They kept me up. Kept me awake wondering how I was gonna make it so. And I know that I ain't gonna think of nothin' else until I don't gotta think of that no more. Until she's marryin' me."
"Do you know what that means, Daryl?" Hershel asked. "To have a wife?"
Daryl nodded his head.
"Think I do," Daryl said.
"Do you know what that requires of you?" Hershel asked. "If you're doing it right? Are you ready for that? Are you ready to give her—everything that requires? To love her until the day that one of you dies? To take care of her and give her everything she needs? Everything that you can give her?"
"I don't know much about love," Daryl admitted, "but I could learn all that she needed me to learn. I learn easy, Hershel. Learn quick. You said it yourself. And if money's what she needs? If it's somethin' I can buy her with money? I can work for money. My hands are good for that and I'm quick to learn whatever I gotta learn. I can work to get her money for what she needs. Just want her there."
"And what do you want from her, Daryl?" Hershel asked.
Daryl shrugged his shoulders.
"Want her to be there," Daryl said. "She's gonna be my wife, so she'll do wife jobs. Make me a home. Be soft and nice to me. Keep me warm in the winter and cook up what I bring her for food so we eat good."
Hershel laughed to himself.
"Wives aren't always soft, Daryl," Hershel said. "And they aren't always nice to you."
"Carol will be," Daryl said, sure of his words. "I just gotta marry her. And I need you to tell me whatever it is that I need to marry her. Because I ain't gonna change my mind, Hershel. I can't. My mind don't seem to have the chance to change at all. Not when it comes to Carol."
"Maybe it isn't the best explanation I've ever heard of love before," Hershel mused, "but it's the most sincere." He sighed. "What are you going to do, Daryl, if this woman doesn't want to marry you? Sometimes—women in her profession? They don't want to marry."
"Carol's gonna marry me," Daryl repeated, feeling like he was growing tired of assuring people of something he knew already down deep in his gut.
Hershel nodded at him.
"You're going to need a home, Daryl, to take her to. Once you marry, you can't live in our attic with your brother," Hershel said. "It doesn't have to be a great home, but you'll need something. You can build a better home as you go, but you have to start somewhere. You'll need shelter." Daryl nodded his head and Hershel continued, ticking off the items that one needs when one is set on marrying somebody. Daryl took mental note of everything. "Land," Hershel said. "A promise for a future. She's certainly not going to want to marry you if you can't show her that you're at least trying to give her something she needs."
"How do I get land?" Daryl asked.
"Around here? You can just about lay claim to it," Hershel said. "You say you want this land—unsettled as it is—and then it's yours. Still...I've got some fifty acres not far from here that's mostly cleared. I've been using the lumber that comes off of it, but the ground's good. The soil's good. The farm's so big that I won't get around to working it for years." He studied Daryl and licked his lips to fight the dryness that was showing there from the fact he hadn't gone in for water in a while. "I could see a way of giving you some of that land to make your stead. Let you use some of my tools. Maybe—maybe even set you up with a team. I could give you what you needed to get started."
Daryl furrowed his brows at Hershel.
"What would you do that for?" Daryl asked.
Hershel shrugged his shoulders. He laughed to himself.
"Maybe because the Bible told me to?" Hershel offered. "After everything I've done in my life, it wouldn't hurt me to earn a few more points for heaven. Maybe because Miss Jo would have a hissy fit if I didn't help you and your brother get off on a good foot. Maybe just because...it'd be a shame to see the land go to waste when there's a young man that's out to build his home and build his name with a woman he made an honest woman. Why I do the things I do, Daryl, is nobody's business but mine."
"I don't want no charity," Daryl said. He shook his head at Hershel. "I ain't never took none before. I worked off all my debts."
"And so you would this one," Hershel agreed. "I would give you the land. The lumber to build your house. To build a barn. To put up fences. A team. Tools to ready the land for planting and seeds to plant. In return? When your harvest comes in? I'll have my choice between part of the harvest or part of the money you make off the harvest. The rest? You'll spend on what you need and you'll put it into the next year's harvest. Expanding on what you've got. The timber on the land is mine. What you cut down for me? What you sell for money? The work portion of the money goes to you. The wood and the money for selling that wood? Goes to me."
"Like we partners or something?" Daryl asked.
Hershel smiled at him.
"Exactly like we're partners, Daryl," Hershel said. "The same offer I made to my sons. The same I'd make to Merle, if he were inclined to get a start for himself. I'm making the offer to you, if you want it."
Daryl's chest tightened a little at the offer. He couldn't believe that Hershel was offering him a shot at things. If he didn't blow it—if he was able to get the little plot of land up and working—then he could build the same kind of farm that Hershel built. He could raise cattle. He could grow food. He could build a fine farm house and barns and he could hire hands to work for him and live in his attic.
He could build a real life that was a life worth living.
And Hershel was giving him that—all of that—on the confidence that he wouldn't fail. He was giving him all of that on the confidence that he'd make enough of it to pay him back. And Daryl would pay him back. In fact, he was already determined that he'd pay him back double.
Daryl nodded his head.
"I'll pay you back for it," Daryl said. "I'm good for it. I'll work that land like—like you ain't never seen. Come harvest? I'll pay you back for all of it."
Hershel hummed at him.
"I'm sure you will," Hershel said. "But the first thing you need to do is build yourself a house. Something small. Something temporary. My first wife and I spent three years in our first little cabin." He laughed to himself. "It was barely big enough to turn around in, but she made it a good home for us. My oldest son was born there. She never quit believing that I was going to turn this place into something more. At least she got to see it before she passed. At least I gave her that. I didn't give her a lot of the things that I promised her."
Daryl nodded his head.
"Yessir," Daryl said. "I'll go and I'll build something. Get started right after work today."
Hershel shook his head.
"You'll take Nessie and Runt," Hershel said, referring to some of the team horses he had. "You'll take that lumber out of the barn that I had set aside for fences. It'll rot before I get around to using it. Especially at the rate I'm going. I'd rather it be used to build a home than see it go to waste. Take whatever you need out of there. Take Merle and Joey if you can find him. Go now and get started. And then? You'll ride into town and make sure that you have a wife to bring back to the place as soon as you've got it standing and watertight."
Suddenly Daryl felt almost lightheaded over the thought that it was all coming together. He could practically see the little house that he'd build and he could practically see Carol sitting there, on the wagon next to him behind Hershel's team, ready to be his wife.
And the worms in his brain calmed a little because now they had other things to do. They had other things to think about. They knew what was coming.
Daryl grinned at Hershel, unable to hold the smile back, and nodded his head at him.
"Yessir!" He declared. "Yessir. I'ma get going on that right away. I'ma get going right now. And I'ma pay you back. Every bit of it."
Hershel smiled back at Daryl and offered him a hand to shake. Daryl took his hand and shook it enthusiastically.
"I know you will," Hershel said. "Now go on, Daryl. You don't want to waste the light. You've got a lot of work to do, and it won't do itself."