AN: Here we go, another chapter here.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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Daryl stood nervously by as Hershel circled around the structure that he'd built. He examined every board and every nail like the house was built for him and Miss Jo. He ran his hands over the windowsills to check for splinters and he tested the pump that Daryl had gotten into good working condition. He opened the door and he stomped on the floors. He stood in the small space and examined the sparse furniture that Daryl had for it.
Under Hershel's guidance, Daryl had gone to town and he'd bought a good mattress. A fine one. The best kind they said come from some other place so it was better than any he could've made himself. Miss Jo gave him linens—nice ones—to dress the bed proper for a wedding night. Proper for offering a new wife. He built the bed frame himself and he sanded it down smooth at every angle. He built a small table for them. Two chairs. Hershel built them a dresser and a nightstand to match. Joey contributed a cabinet for holding the plates and cups and utensils that Miss Jo gave them—mismatched but enough for six to use at once, which was more people than Daryl figured would even fit in their house—and their coffee pot and a few other possessions that Daryl had acquired along the way stood in for the rest of the decoration.
It wasn't the house that he would one day build her, but it was a fine enough structure for now. Daryl knew it was, because he knew every board that had been placed. He knew every post that had been set. He knew all the nails that had been driven. He'd either driven them himself or he'd overseen the work that Merle and Joey had put in—each of them happily working for cheap whiskey, change on the tables at the local saloon, and pussy money for putting in their pockets.
The only thing that Daryl could think of that was missing from his home was the woman that would, really, make it all something worth having.
"You got oil?" Hershel asked. "So your lamps don't run down?"
"Bought extra," Daryl said. "In the corner over there."
Hershel examined the wood beside the small fireplace that Daryl had built for the cabin.
"This all the wood you got, son?" Hershel asked. "This and what's under that lean-to outside?"
Daryl nodded his head.
"I'll have the barn up in a couple weeks," Daryl said. "Maybe sooner. Figured I could build a woodshed too. While I was goin'. Stock it up for the winter."
"Not too far from the house," Hershel said. "You don't want her having to walk a mile in the snow just to keep from freezing to death."
Daryl laughed to himself and nodded his head. Over the couple of weeks that he'd been putting together his life—building it board by board and nail by nail—he'd become accustomed to Hershel's words of advice. He'd gotten used to hearing them flow in as Hershel directed him on how to build a house that a woman would want to make a home.
"I'ma build a smokehouse too," Daryl said. "Somethin' small. Extra meat so she don't worry about the winter."
"Any worry off of her is a worry off you," Hershel said with a nod. They were words that Daryl had heard several times over and he nodded his head with the rhythm of them. "You tried out this fireplace? Made sure your chimney's set properly? Don't smoke?"
"Don't smoke no way but up an' out," Daryl said. "Just as it oughta."
"Set the hook in the ground outside?" Hershel asked. "For the pot that Joey brought over from Jo on Wednesday?"
Daryl nodded his head.
"Just like you said," Daryl said. "Twelve feet out. Pit dug. So the fire don't run to the house if'n it gets away from her."
Hershel beamed at him. It was the proudest smile that Daryl had ever seen directed at him in his whole life.
"Looks like you got everything, son," Hershel said.
"Yessir," Daryl confirmed. "Everything except Carol."
Hershel laughed to himself.
"You're still sure she's coming?" Hershel asked. "After all this time?"
"Gotta," Daryl said.
Hershel hummed and looked around the cabin again.
"Well if she don't," Hershel said, "I'd say you're set to find yourself a wife at any rate. Get a barn up. You already got those seeds in the ground. There's many a young lady would be happy to sweep your floors and make your biscuits."
Daryl shook his head.
"But there ain't but one that'll do," Daryl said. "Built this house for her. Planted them seeds for her. Ain't took one step or drove one nail that I didn't think of her seein' it. Bought that bed there in town—most expensive thing I ever bought before but...I couldn't help but think how happy she'd be sleepin' all nested up in it with them pillows. How warm it was gonna be when the winter come."
"There's nothing warm when the winter comes," Hershel said. "Still, I'd say you won't exactly be winterin' hard here, Daryl. You'll do alright with not freezing to death."
Daryl cleared his throat.
"I'ma need some more of my money," Daryl said, holding his hand out to Hershel. He'd handed over the money that he had to old man for safe keeping and for securing it against Merle. Merle wasn't a thief—or at least he didn't aim to be—but knowing his brother had a lot more squirreled away than he'd ever thought was strong temptation for a man of many vices like Merle. "When I get her back here? I'ma want it all. Got me a place set to hide it where won't nobody find it that don't know it's there."
"That money'd be better off in a bank, Daryl," Hershel said. "Set up an account in town. Better, too, when your harvest comes in. A lot of money like that needs protecting. Needs security."
"How I know they don't steal it?" Daryl asked. "Hand it over to 'em and they just gettin' rich off what I worked for."
Hershel laughed.
"I thought the same thing too," Hershel said. "But every time I've gone to get my money, they had it right where I put it. Even a couple of years ago when someone came through and robbed the bank—the money was still there when I needed it. It still spends the same."
Daryl hummed at him. He wasn't entirely convinced that he wanted to take everything he had and hand it over to some stranger that probably hadn't ever spent a day at good, hard work. He didn't mind handing it over to Hershel because the old man was the man that gave him the money in the first place. He was the kind of man that read to them from his big, black book and told them how to be good people. He was the kind of man that made them bow their heads and listen to the blessings he heaped on nearly every meal they ate.
Hershel wasn't the kind of man that stole another man's money when he was just trying to make an honest living. But Daryl didn't know about the men in the banks, and he didn't know if they were half as honest as Hershel.
"For now I'd rather I just kept my money where I know where it is," Daryl said. "If it's all the same to you."
"Suit yourself, son," Hershel said. He reached into his pocket and came up with the bag that Daryl knew held the money that he would pass to him to go and settle his affairs with Miss Andrea. The money would pay whatever else he owed for Carol's stay there and it would pay any other fee the Miss-Madame saw fit to charge him for leaving with Carol fair and square. When it touched his hands, Daryl's heart responded by kicking up a beat like it knew what the money was for—like it knew what the money would secure. It felt better in his hands than money ever had. And it was money well spent, if it bought him Carol as a wife, because he already knew that she'd feel better in his hands than cash ever did. "Maybe we'll revisit it again," Hershel said. "In the spring. The bank business. Talk more, then, about opening up an account. Maybe I'll go with you when we go to sell."
"Maybe," Daryl said. "But that ain't now. You think this is enough?"
Hershel laughed to himself again.
"Daryl—if that's not enough? Then this is a woman that you can't afford," Hershel said. "Nobody can. There are many men that would let you marry their daughters just to know that you'd managed to save that much money by now. And especially if you told them that it wasn't half of what you've got hidden in a cookie jar in Miss Jo's pantry."
"It's gotta go right, Hershel," Daryl said. "Ever' bit. 'Cause I don't get but one chance to bring her back here. If she don't marry me? This was for nothin'."
Hershel shook his head. He reached out a hand and roughly patted Daryl's shoulder before he squeezed it.
"It isn't for nothing, Daryl," Hershel said. "One way or another, you've started yourself a life here. A good life. There's an honest living to be made here. And if it's Carol that's your wife, then you're all set. But if it isn't? There'll be a woman out there that'll want to marry a man like you and live an honest life with you."
Daryl felt his throat tighten at even the slightest thought that he might ride out there—out to Eden—just to be rejected. Worse than being cast out, he imagined, was being turned away entirely. Hershel squeezed his shoulder again and sighed.
"I don't know what the good Lord has planned for you Daryl," Hershel said. "I don't know what He's got planned for that young woman. Those are things that aren't ours to know. But I think He knows. I think He sees—that the love that you have? It's a good love, Daryl. It's the kind of love that brought you to build this house. That brought you to build it with—care. To build it with love. Hope for a future. Hope for your future and hers." Hershel shook his head at him. "The preacher in town might not marry you," Hershel said. "He's got some strong feelings on ladies that choose the path that she's been going down. But—I've got the power to marry you just as well as he does. So if she'll be your wife? You bring your bride back to the farm and I'll wait up for you. If she says yes? I'll marry you tonight. You won't have to wait."
Daryl swallowed and nodded his head.
"Real married?" Daryl asked. "You can do that?"
Hershel laughed to himself and nodded his head sincerely.
"Really married," he confirmed. "As married as you can get. I can do that. I will do that."
"Why wouldn't he marry us, Hershel?" Daryl asked. "If we was both wanting to get married? What would be the sense in tellin' us that we couldn't?"
Hershel shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.
"Everybody judges someone for something, Daryl," Hershel said. "It's human nature. And some people—they judge others for a lot of things. I'm not free of it myself. And neither is he."
Daryl nodded his head.
"It don't matter no way, right?" Daryl asked. "I mean once we're married? We're as married as we can get, right? He can't say nothin' about it, not even if he don't like it."
"Not even if he doesn't like it," Hershel confirmed.
"Are you a preacher?" Daryl asked.
Hershel seemed to think that was funny too.
"There's something of a preacher in all of us," Hershel said. "Just that everybody's sermon is a little bit different."
Daryl gnawed at his lip.
"Not much of an answer," Daryl said.
"It's as good an answer as I can give you," Hershel said.
"I don't got no sermon," Daryl said. "Not in me. I ain't no preacher."
"Maybe you do," Hershel said. "Maybe you just haven't found it yet. Maybe—your sermon would be on...telling someone how to be so determined to build yourself a home with a woman you loved that you built the home before you had the woman."
Daryl laughed that time.
"That ain't no kinda sermon," Daryl said. "Not like the ones you read us outta your book."
Hershel shrugged his shoulders.
"That sermon is faith," Hershel said. "Strong faith. Love. They're all in there. I'll read them to you sometime. You'll see. It's all there."
Daryl nodded his head at Hershel and sucked in a breath. He looked at his money once more and then he put it in his pocket and dug in his shirt pocket for the cigarettes that he was keeping there. Cigarettes he'd rolled for himself earlier. He offered one to Hershel and Hershel accepted it with a smile.
"Maybe we don't say nothing about me enjoying a smoke to Miss Jo," Hershel said. "Of course, if you get a wife, then you'll understand that sort of thing."
Daryl smiled to himself, his cheeks burning warm at the thought.
"Carol ain't gonna rag me about smokin'," Daryl said. "She ain't hardly gonna rag me about nothin' 'cause I ain't gonna give her nothin' to rag on me about. But smokin'? She don't mind it. Told me so herself."
"Then you're all set," Hershel said. He cleared his throat and accepted Daryl's match as he stepped outside the door, leading Daryl out of the cabin. "And I hope you're right. I hope that your union is as peaceful and blissful as you want it to be." He looked around like he hadn't seen the land before—the land that he'd come over to see at least once every two days. He drew on the cigarette that Daryl had given him and blew the smoke out in a heavy cloud. "You'll take Nessie and walk Runt with you. He'll be fine for Carol to ride. He's never bucked since he was broken. I'd trust him with a baby."
Daryl swallowed and nodded his head.
"If I take 'em both," Daryl said, taking note that the two mounts were what they'd used to come from Hershel's farm, "how you gonna get home?"
"It's a fine day, Daryl," Hershel said. "And I could use the air. I'll be fine to walk. Good for the circulation."
"Could ride with you back to the farm," Daryl offered. "Go from there."
Hershel shook his head.
"It's a nice day for a walk," Hershel said. "And you've got things to do, son. You don't want to be riding back when it gets too dark. You've got a home, Daryl. You've got a future growing out there in the dirt. You've got someone that you can't wait to build that life with. Now you've gotta go and get her. And I've got to stretch my legs and walk back home."
Daryl finished his cigarette and snubbed it out in the dirt. Hershel did the same with his and started walking toward the spot where the horses were tied. It was clear that he intended to help Daryl get settled once he was saddled.
Daryl patted his pockets before he put his left foot into the stirrup.
"I reckon I got all I need," Daryl said. "Money. That'll get me there and back." He pulled himself up onto Nessie and situated the reins that Hershel passed him. Then Hershel passed him the reins to Runt and, even though he would've probably followed along without need for being led, Daryl wrapped the reins around Nellie's saddle horn.
"You've got almost everything you need," Hershel said.
Daryl felt a cold blast of panic pass over him. He couldn't remember what he was missing and he hoped that he hadn't forgotten it altogether. Hershel smiled at him and reached into his shirt pocket before he came out with something that glittered in the light.
"I don't know a woman the first that wants to get married if she doesn't have a ring, Daryl," Hershel said. He passed Daryl the silver band on a chain that glittered in the light and Daryl looked at it resting in his palm. "I had time to make that up real quick for her. I don't know how big her fingers are, but I can resize that one or make another one entirely if it doesn't fit. The chain'll hold it for now. It'll fit her."
Daryl swallowed and shook his head.
"It's too much for me to take," Daryl said, trying to offer the ring back to Hershel. Hershel shook his head at him.
"Nonsense," Hershel said. "The chain was Jo's. She wanted her to have it. The ring I made myself. The band isn't gold, Daryl, like wedding rings are traditionally supposed to be. You'll have to buy her one of those when you get a chance. I'm sorry, but the best I had to offer was steel." Daryl looked at the ring again and turned it over in his palm.
"Steel's better'n gold," Daryl said. "Stronger metal. There ain't nothin' about bein' married that says that stronger ain't better."
Hershel laughed to himself.
"Stronger is better," Hershel said. "But one day, if she wants the gold, then you can buy her that. The steel will do for now."
Daryl nodded his head, but then he shook his head again.
"I just don't feel like I can take it," Daryl said.
"I don't see how you can't," Hershel responded. "I won't take no for an answer, Daryl, and your bride is waiting. Don't make her spend another night in that house when she's got a fine home here."
Daryl accepted that the ring was his—and soon it would be Carol's. He nodded his head at Hershel again and offered his thanks for the gesture. He offered his thanks for everything.
"Fine day for a walk," Hershel mused again. "And with a little luck? You beat me back to the house."
Daryl laughed to himself knowing that it would be impossible but appreciating, just for a moment, the slight show of optimism from the old man. He dropped the ring into his shirt pocket and nodded his head at Hershel before he nudged Nessie along and started the trek toward town where Carol would be waiting to give him an answer that he'd been waiting to hear.