AN: Here we go, another chapter here.

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

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Daryl had ducked into the store only long enough to shake the hand of the man that employed Carol and make sure that he was fine with her missing a day of work. Mr. Wagner didn't seem too bothered, though, by Carol's absence—especially in light of the fact that she intended to purchase some things and, therefore, return to him some of the money that she'd slowly earned.

Whether the money came from the wheat or whether it came from Carol's job, it was impossible for Daryl to know. All their money went together, just as it should, and whatever they needed came from the whole of their earnings. They had decided, together, that was the best way to handle things. Then there was no need for wondering who had earned each penny that they had to spend.

Everything was simply theirs.

When the winter wheat sold, Daryl had put aside an amount that he thought was fair for the expenses of building the house and paying Hershel back for what he'd borrowed in advance for the work that he had to do. They would furnish their home with what furniture they already had—and what they didn't have? Daryl could build most of it and they could save for the rest. The money that came in from the spring wheat immediately went back into the farm—and the future harvest of winter wheat was already in the ground with Daryl having put a little time into expanding their fields by half an acre.

They were, for the first time in a good while, comfortable enough with money that Daryl felt like he could breathe.

So Daryl wanted Carol to spend what was left of the money that had been put aside for building their home. He wanted her to buy whatever things it was a woman needed to feel happy and comfortable in her home. He'd handed it all over to her without even counting it and he'd borrowed Hershel's wagon, prepared to take home a haul that the horses might very well struggle to pull through the muddy streets of town.

He was surprised, then, while standing outside the general store enjoying a cigarette that he'd rolled from a pouch of tobacco that he'd bought for himself, when Carol emerged from the store with so few purchases that she was having no problem carrying them on her own.

Daryl didn't move from his position for a moment and he watched as Carol looked for him after she'd put her purchases in the back of the wagon and patted the heads of the two dogs that were riding back there. He whistled at her when she looked around for him and a smile spread across her face as soon as she saw him.

"Aren't you scared somebody's gonna take the wagon?" Carol asked.

"With Nugget tied and me less'n six feet away?" Daryl asked. "Ain't likely to happen. Where's the rest? You need me to go in for it?"

Carol shook her head.

"There isn't anymore. I got—cloth for curtains. Oh, it's beautiful, Daryl. I know you say you don't care about those things, but it's beautiful and you're gonna think so too," Carol insisted.

Daryl laughed to himself.

"I'm glad the curtains make you happy," Daryl said. "But—I give you a pretty decent amount of money, Carol. Curtains cost that much?"

Carol's cheeks ran pink. Daryl could see the change in color even from the short distance between them. He finished his cigarette and flicked it into the street before he crossed over to where Carol was and leaned against the wagon.

"No," Carol said. "Not hardly. I got needles and thread too. A few other things."

"An' that finished it up?" Daryl asked.

Carol shook her head again.

"I was—hoping to go to the hardware?" Carol asked. "Get a chamber pot? A washboard that ain't broken?"

Daryl shrugged his shoulders.

"That ain't hardly nothin'," Daryl said. "Coulda bought that any day that'cha told me you needed it."

Carol shook her head at him.

"I don't need a lot of things, Daryl," Carol said. "And maybe—one day? We need somethin' more than what we got, but today we just don't need nothing else." She frowned at him and Daryl wasn't sure it was a sincere frown or if she was simply mimicking his facial expression. "We'll put the money back," Carol said. "And it'll be there, then, if we need it. For the house or—whatever we might need it for. OK?"

Daryl nodded his head and put a hand out to catch her arm. He tugged her with him to walk her around the back of the wagon and help her onto the side where she'd be riding.

"To the hardware, I reckon," Daryl said. "Get'cha whatever you need there—and we could do with another pail."

Carol frowned at him as soon as she was in the wagon.

"You're not angry, are you?" Carol asked. "Because I said we didn't need more than we got?"

Daryl laughed to himself. He couldn't help it. Her concern was so strong he could almost smell it and he realized that half the men in the whole town would give their teeth to hear their wife say she didn't need to spend the money that they'd given her.

Daryl leaned on the wagon and looked at her. He shook his head.

"I ain't mad," he said. "But—you gotta promise me that...if it's somethin' you need? Or even—even somethin' that's somethin' you been wantin'? You gonna tell me. You ain't gonna hold out an' feel sorry you don't got it."

Carol shook her head.

"Wouldn't," she said. "But—I do want the chamber pot. And the washboard."

Daryl laughed and nodded his head.

"That's just what the hell we're goin' to get," he promised.

He crossed in front of the wagon, in front of the horses, and took a moment to pet each of them on the head and encourage them—in case they needed it—because they were doing so well pulling the wagon and they weren't all that accustomed to being driven as a team. He figured, even if they didn't need it, a little encouragement couldn't hurt. Horses, after all, he figured could get their feelings hurt if they weren't recognized for the work they were doing.

Daryl untied the horses and got into the driver's seat of the wagon. The hardware was close enough that they could have walked there, but they might as well ride since they weren't leaving their wagon unattended at any rate.

At this hour, the streets were mostly abandoned. Most people, as Hershel would point out to Daryl, had jobs to be doing. If they were in town, it was either because they worked there, or because they were getting something they needed. Still, there were a few people who, like Daryl and Carol, seemed to be taking the day off of work to accomplish things.

As Daryl found a spot to tie the wagon, he saw another couple getting off a wagon of their own. Their wagon was loaded with a few more items—some boxes and such—than Daryl and Carol's, but they appeared to simply be a married couple out making purchases with their young child. The man threw up a hand in Daryl's direction as he tied his wagon and then he spoke over the short distance that divided them.

"I'm in your way?" He asked.

"No," Daryl said, shaking his head. "We fine right here. Just runnin' in for a couple things."

"I can get them, Daryl," Carol said quickly. "Won't take but just a minute. I can get a pail too."

"You gonna need me to carry it all," Daryl said.

Carol shook her head at him.

"I can carry it," she promised. "Or I can get the keeper to help me. Stay with the wagon? I won't be but a minute."

Daryl hesitated, but finally agreed. He nodded his acceptance of Carol's proposal and walked around to the back of the wagon for a moment to make sure that there was nothing he needed to move out of the way. Hershel had left a few small items in the back, but it was nothing that really took up too much space. While he was back there, Toby and Shadow demanded his attention and then acted like him offering them both a pat on the head was the greatest gift that he could give to either of them.

"Excuse me..."

Daryl nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the voice close to him. He wasn't expecting anyone to approach him. When he turned, though, at the sound of some quick and repeated apologies made for startling him, Daryl found that it was only the wife of the man who had asked if his wagon was in the way. The man, Daryl assumed, had gone into the hardware without her.

"You needin' something?" Daryl asked.

The woman gestured to the small boy that was holding her hand.

"He was just wondering if he could see your dogs," the woman offered.

Daryl looked at the little boy and nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah. They good dogs. Friendly with just about everyone—except they don't like it when you come up on 'em and they ain't expectin' you. Trained 'em like that on purpose. Keeps people off the farm. They even bark at people they know when they ridin' up..." Daryl stopped himself and nipped at a bit of skin on his thumb to plug up the words that were getting away from him. "You ain't need to know all that."

The woman smiled at him.

"His name is William," she said, gesturing at the boy. "Can you help him?" Daryl nodded at her and she urged the little boy forward. "Go on, William. He's going to show you his dogs."

Daryl offered his hands out to the boy and lifted him with more force than was necessary for a boy who weighed as little as he did. He lifted the boy over the back of the wagon and put him down where the dogs could see him. Both of them—easily recognizing him as "friend" because Daryl put him back there—launched themselves at the boy and made a great deal of effort to lick his face. The child squealed at them and touched them both on the head with dirty fingers while they fought over who would get closest to him.

William's mother, standing beside Daryl, laughed at her son's happiness over the animals.

"He so wants a dog," she said.

"If you lookin' for one," Daryl said. "You oughta go out an' see Hershel Greene. They ain't got none right this minute, but they get pups right regular. Where I got these. His wife's the one what gives 'em to people—but if she seen the boy, I reckon she'd give him a pup or two."

"I'm not sure his father would approve," the woman informed Daryl. "Dogs eat far too much."

"Them dogs don't hardly eat too much," Daryl said. "Scraps here an' there. We already feedin' a mess a' hogs. Might as well throw out somethin' to the dogs too. They good on the farm except they got a tendency to run the chickens if they get half a chance."

The woman seemed to think that Daryl's information about well-chased chickens was laughable because she laughed more readily at that than she did at her son's squealing.

Worried that the boy might get overwhelmed with the over-enthusiastic dogs, Daryl lifted the boy back out of the wagon and put his feet on the ground.

"Mean what I said," Daryl said. "They good dogs. An' I just know Miss Jo would give a pup to a boy what wanted one."

"What do you say, William? To the nice man?" The woman asked, bumping the shoulder of the young boy with her hand. In response, the small child offered Daryl a word that he took to mean some kind of thanks and Daryl shrugged his shoulders at the woman.

"Ain't nothin' needs thanking," Daryl said. "I'd let just about anybody pet my dogs if they was nice about it. Toby an' Shadow like it."

"Emma? I see you and William have made friends," the man who had asked about moving his wagon came toward them and held up his hands to show that he was carrying some things. Carol came behind him. "Hope you don't mind," he said, talking to Daryl, "but the lady needed a hand and I didn't see no reason the keep had to help her when I could just bring it out."

Daryl shook his head at the man.

"Appreciate it," he said, reaching to take the purchases from the man. He put them quickly into the back of the wagon. "Woulda gone in myself. Ain't my practice to make her haul things."

The man laughed.

"She told me that too," the man responded. "A couple of times. Jacob Walsby."

Once his hands were empty, the man offered a hand for Daryl to shake and Daryl took it in his.

"Daryl Dixon," Daryl said.

"I've already met Carol," Jacob said.

"An' I met—Emma? Though we weren't quite introduced," Daryl said.

"How very rude of me," Emma said. She shook her head and then addressed her husband. "You know how William is when he sees a dog."

"I was tellin' her that Hershel Greene's got a farm just about ten miles out from here," Daryl said. "They got pups right regular an' I know his wife would give your boy a pup if he was wantin' one."

"They're good dogs," Carol interjected, stepping around them so that she could join the conversation and pass the pail she was carrying to Daryl. He took it and put it in the back with the other items that he'd already relieved Jacob of. "We couldn't do without them."

Daryl didn't know if they could or couldn't do without the dogs, but he knew that they were fond of them and certainly wouldn't want to lose them.

"Do I know you?" Emma asked, addressing Carol.

"I work at the general store," Carol said. "So if you bought anything there? It's more than likely you'da seen me."

Emma smiled and nodded.

"That's where I know you," she said. "And the dog too. With the big black circles around his eyes. I remember him now."

"Toby," Carol said. "He's mine. He goes with me ever'day."

And suddenly it looked like they were old friends. Something in common like the general store, it seemed, could bring women quite close. It wasn't a second later and Carol had launched into telling the woman about her curtains—or rather about the ones that she was going to make—and then she was telling her about the print on the fabric while she prattled on about the windows in the house that she would cover up with the curtains.

Daryl glanced at the man who had taken possession of the boy—William—and saw that he was smiling at both of the women. Like Daryl, though, he had nothing to contribute to a conversation about curtains, so he just stood there waiting for it to pass. And when it did, Jacob spoke again.

"You built the house?" Jacob asked. Daryl nodded his head. "Yourself?"

"I had a lil' help," Daryl said. "From my brother an' another man what works at the Greene farm."

"But Daryl did most of it," Carol interjected quickly.

"I done most of it," Daryl ceded.

"Impressive," Jacob said.

Daryl laughed to himself and shook his head.

"Weren't really nothin'," Daryl said. "Promised her a nice house. It ain't the nicest we gonna have, but it's a start. Hopin' to do somethin' more with it later. After the thaw."

"Newlyweds?" Emma asked.

Daryl shook his head.

"Goin' on our second winter together," Daryl said. "But we doin' alright 'cause neither of us is froze yet."

Both Emma and Jacob found that entertaining.

"I don't believe I could've built our house," Jacob said. "We bought from a man who was moving east. Came here to stake a claim and it hasn't disappointed. Gold."

Daryl nodded his head.

"Staked my claim too," Daryl said. He laughed to himself. "'Cept the gold I got is what grows outta the ground—not what's lookin' to be dug up."

"You have children?" Emma asked. "We've another boy. His name is Jacob as well. My parents came here to stay with us. He didn't want to come to town, so he stayed behind. And we have William. And we're due another before spring."

"Worst time of year to bring one into the world," Jacob said. "But everything happens when it happens."

Daryl swallowed and nodded his head at the couple.

"Nice lookin' boy," he said, gesturing his head toward William. He eyed the woman—trying to search out the evidence that she was expecting a child—but he couldn't see much about her that would've told him that they were having a kid anytime in the near future. "We don't—don't got none yet. But—we gonna. Just—we just don't yet. Not just yet."

Something crossed the faces of both Jacob and Emma. Emma erased her expression faster than her husband did, though, and replaced it with a smile.

"I'm sure you'll have a child very soon," she said. "They're really our greatest blessings."

Daryl wasn't sure how to respond. All of a sudden he felt like he was stuck right where he was standing and he felt like his tongue was stuck in his head right where it lay. Luckily, Carol saved him by quickly tugging at his arm and getting his attention.

"We gotta get back," she said. "Cows'll be needin' fed."

Daryl was a little struck by the statement—mostly because the cows didn't need to be fed—but he was too happy to have something that made him able to move again to contradict Carol's statement. When she tugged on his arm again, it made him even more able to move from his spot and suddenly his tongue found movement once more.

He nodded his head in the direction of Emma and Jacob.

"We gotta be gettin' on back," Daryl said, very nearly echoing Carol word for word. "But—nice meetin' you."

He received the same sentiment from them and moved when Carol tugged at him again. This time, he walked her to her seat on the wagon and offered her a hand to get up. She took it and sat, somewhat rigidly, facing ahead. Jacob and Emma returned to their own wagon and went about loading up to move so that Daryl would have a clear space to maneuver his rig. While he waited, Daryl leaned against the wagon near Carol.

"You needin' anything else from town?" Daryl asked. Carol shook her head at him. "Nothin' else you think you might want?" Carol shook her head again. "You know the cows don't really need fed right now, don't'cha? I ain't feedin' 'em 'til later on. Keep 'em warm when it gets cold later on."

"I know that," Carol said. "But—there's a lot that needs to be done at the farm. And—and we need to get the wagon back to Hershel."

"He wouldn't mind if we kept it," Daryl said. "At least 'til morning. But—if we're gettin' Merle to help us move everything tonight, I guess we best head on back anyway."

Carol nodded her head at him again and Daryl swallowed. There was something wrong with her. There was something on her face that he didn't like. Somehow—even if he wasn't sure how—he hadn't quite succeeded in making her happy with this trip.

"I'm sorry I ain't—gone inside," Daryl said. "I shoulda gone in with you. Toted out what'cha got. I'm sorry I didn't." Carol simply shook her head in response. "You sore 'cause I didn't?"

Carol looked at him. She looked about as low as he'd seen her look. She looked damn near close to bursting into tears again the same as she had the night before when he'd shown her the house. She shook her head at him.

"I'm not sore, Daryl," Carol said. "I got no cause to be sore."

"But you ain't happy," Daryl said.

Carol put on a smile, quickly, but Daryl didn't feel like it meant what it was supposed to mean. She nodded her head at him.

"I'm happy, Daryl. I'm just wantin' to go home," Carol said. "Can we go home?"

Daryl swallowed and nodded his head.

"Yeah," he said. "We're headin' home."