Chapter 8 - Feelings
AN: Hey, guys. Thank you for reading and reviewing. I enjoy hearing what readers have to say. I do have a question for you - is the time and setting change a deterrent for any of you? Whether it is or it isn't, I would really like to know.
0o0o0
Emma and Daryl never spoke of the kiss. The first time they saw each other after the incident, which was at breakfast the morning of, they acted normally. Daryl spoke very little from his end of the table. Emma held conversation with Merle and Sam. All Sam could talk about was Amy Horvath and what a wonderful girl she was. Merle had explained to Emma that before Thanksgiving, he took one last trip to town before they were snowed in for the winter. They wouldn't get back down into town again until the snow melted, which was typically in March. Emma promised Sam that before Thanksgiving, she would take Sam to visit Amy. He was pleased.
After all that had happened the day of the fall gathering, Emma regained her wits and became more like herself once again. When she saw Daryl for the first time after the kiss, she couldn't even remember why the urge to kiss him had come over her in the first place. Emma was glad that Daryl had obviously excused her silly behavior, seeing as how he still showed up for meals and wasn't opposed to exchanging words with Emma. Since he never brought it up, Emma decided she wouldn't either. It could be unspoken between them that she had acted foolishly, that he understood why after the events of the day, and that nothing need change between them. With all of that being figured out, Emma was able to move on.
The month of October was busy. There was harvesting to be done, supplies to stock up on, firewood to be chopped and stored for the winter, and other chores of that nature. Emma threw herself into the hard work, welcoming it as a way to get back into the swing of things. Even though the fall harvest had been only one day, it felt like an entire lifetime. Emma felt a strong inclination to work as hard as she had back when she was trying to prove herself worthy of work in Astoria or Burnham Town. The other men took notice individually. Sam found Emma asleep on Merle's sofa one evening, a dust rag in her hand. He had covered her in a blanket after carefully pulling the rag from her fist. Merle would often find that Emma had been up long before she made breakfast every morning. He could tell because there would already be a pile of split logs started out back of his house, or that the animals had already been fed. Daryl saw new calluses forming over old ones on the palms of Emma's hands as she poured his coffee one morning. He often heard her up and around the property long before he, Sam, and Merle were ready to rise.
With the first week of November, a letter was delivered by courier to the farm. The bell by the closed gate rang out early that morning. Merle took a horse and went to investigate. He brought back an envelope addressed to Emma.
"What is it?" Sam asked from the table as Emma opened the envelope at the counter.
"I haven't read it yet, Sam." Emma replied with amusement in her voice.
Emma pulled the letter out of the envelope.
Dear Emma,
Amy and I were very glad to have seen you and your new friends at the fall gathering. I would like to invite all of you to join us for Thanksgiving. Mrs. Grimes has been put on bed rest for the duration of her pregnancy after a chain of fainting spells worried her husband and Dr. Torrence. Andrea and Amy have insisted on cooking Thanksgiving dinner for the Grimes'. It will be myself, my girls, Deputy Walsh, and of course, the Grimes'. We heard about Clarke's proposal. If you would like him to be there, or not, the choice is yours. You may invite him if you like. Dinner will be served at the Grimes' home at one o'clock. We hope you will all attend.
Fondly,
Reverend Horvath
"It seems we have all been invited to Thanksgiving dinner at the Grimes'." Emma announced after she read the letter.
"The Grimes'?" Sam asked, sounding somewhat letdown.
"Yes," Emma turned around to face Sam, "at the reverend's request."
Sam's face brightened.
"Amy will be there?" Sam asked.
"She will." Emma answered with a nod.
"Oh, Emma, can we go?" Sam asked, folding his hands together as he begged. "I would love to see Amy before the snow comes."
"I'm fine with going, but we need to discuss it with Merle and Daryl." Emma replied, the corners of her mouth pulling up into an amused smile to match the tone of her voice. "Speaking of which, shouldn't you be finishing up your breakfast? Merle and Daryl are already out and about."
Sam quickly swallowed the last of his coffee and jammed the rest of his gravy soaked biscuit into his mouth.
"See you later, Emma." Sam said with a full mouth before he dashed outside.
Emma put the letter away. She planned on bringing the contents of it up at supper. Until then, she had a kitchen to clean up and work outdoors to be done.
0o0o0
The hard work continued on the farm until suddenly, it was only a few days before Thanksgiving. Merle and Daryl had both declined going into town for the holiday. Emma and Sam were leaving the day before Thanksgiving to get last minute supplies before they were unable to make the journey into town until the snow melted. They would stay the night at the inn, then attend Thanksgiving at the Grimes' the following day.
"Can you think of anything else you'd like us to get while we're in town?" Emma asked Daryl as they stood a few feet apart splitting logs.
Daryl brought his axe down.
"Nope."
Emma bent down to pick up the split logs on the ground. She added them to her pile.
"What should I get Merle for Christmas?" Emma asked as she piled the logs.
Daryl brought his axe down again and paused, turning his head to look at Emma.
"What?" Daryl asked, furrowing his brow.
Emma stood up straight when her pile was tidy.
"Christmas." Emma raised an eyebrow.
Daryl chuckled and shook his head.
"We don't do that." Daryl replied, putting a new log down to chop.
"What do you mean you don't do that?" Emma asked, watching Daryl work. "Ya'll don't celebrate Christmas? You don't exchange presents or put up a tree?"
"Nope." Daryl split another log.
Emma wasn't discouraged. She had changed things on the farm before. Even if she had to do it all herself, she would make sure Christmas was celebrated that year. She remembered Christmases with Hershel when he was alive. There was always a tree, gifts beneath it, and piping hot mugs of cider or cool glasses of eggnog by the fire. Hershel had made sure of that after Emma had come to him having never celebrated a Christmas in her life. He remedied that right away.
When Emma picked up her axe again and gripped it tightly, she felt one of her calluses suddenly split open. She opened her hand as blood started running out of the open wound and down her wrist.
"What is it?" Daryl asked as he watched Emma studying her hand, which he was unable to see from where he stood.
Emma put her axe down, and when she did, Daryl saw her bleeding hand.
"Oh, Jesus, Emma." Daryl dropped his axe and went to her side.
"It's nothing." Emma reassured Daryl, lifting the corner of her skirt to wrap around her hand.
"Nothing my ass." Daryl muttered, tugging on Emma's skirt. "Let me see it."
Without waiting for her permission, Daryl seized Emma's hand. He pressed his thumbs against the outside of her wound, applying pressure to the area. The flow of blood was less severe, then. With her hand in his, Daryl was able to get a good look at the wear and tear on it. There were calluses and blisters galore all over the palm and heel of her hand. Daryl would have bet any sum of money that her other hand looked the same.
Emma realized that Daryl had spoken her name a few moments before. The only other time he had ever said her name had been the day of the fall gathering. He had called out to her as she rode off on his horse. It didn't bother Emma that Daryl didn't say her name. Merle rarely used her name, either. He preferred calling her 'girl', which Emma didn't mind. She had been called worse things before. What Emma did wonder, though, was why Daryl chose only certain times to say her name. Was it out of annoyance or anger?
"You're no good to anyone around here if you're working yourself into the ground." Daryl told Emma gruffly, pushing down harder on the open callous.
"I'm not." Emma snapped, yanking her hand out of his grip.
Before Daryl could say anymore, Emma wrapped her bloodied skirt around her hand again and headed up to Merle's house to take care of her wound. She would have to clean it and wrap it. During the harvest, she had picked all of the witch hazel and ground it up. It was in a jar in the kitchen pantry. She would use that to make a paste to apply to her hand. That would fix it right up.
While Emma waited for the water to boil, she used the ground witch hazel to mix up a paste. As she worked it into the right consistency, the back door opened. Emma looked up to see Daryl walking in. He had a roll of bandaging in his hand. The way he was holding it, the softer look in his eyes, it was like a peace offering. Emma accepted it with a nod.
"Sit down." Daryl told Emma as she placed the bowl of paste on the table.
Emma turned her head to look at him, her eyebrows hovering over her eyes.
"Please?" Daryl mumbled, refusing to make eye contact with Emma.
Emma pulled the water off of the stove and poured it into a bowl to cool down slightly.
"Okay." Emma murmured, taking a seat at the table.
Daryl set the bandaging down in front of the chair adjacent Emma. He brought the bowl of water over to the table for Emma to put her hand in. She tested the water with one of her fingers before she slowly put her whole hand into it. She sucked in air through her teeth when the hot water lapped at her open wound. Daryl's eyes remained on her face until her features relaxed as she grew more accustomed to the pain. Then, he sought out a rag. When he had one, he sat down at the table to clean and dress Emma's wound.
"I work hard because I like to." Emma said suddenly, studying the water as it slowly turned red with her blood. "I won't be scolded for having a good work ethic."
Daryl lifted the corner of his mouth into a half smile as he unrolled the bandaging.
"What?" Emma asked, seeing the amusement on his face.
"Nothing." Daryl replied, leaning back in his chair.
It was quiet, then. Emma kept her hand in the hot water until it started to cool. When she lifted it out of the water, Daryl sat forward and held out his hand for hers. Emma was confused.
"I can clean it myself." Emma insisted.
"Give me your hand." Daryl demanded, reaching out for her.
Emma let Daryl take her hand. He held her hand palm up in his. Blood was no longer running out of her wound. It had dried around her split callous. Daryl used the damp rag to gently clean away the dry blood. He looked up every so often to make sure he wasn't causing Emma any unnecessary harm.
It was funny for Emma to see Daryl being so gentle. She tried to think of the few times she had seen him softer. As she went through her memories, the only times she could remember Daryl showing his gentler side were when he was with her. It was when he had caught her in the barn, when he had helped her in and out of the carriage, when he had escorted her during their walk at the fall gathering. Emma watched Daryl clean her hand and wondered why he could only be soft with her. Was it because she was a woman, or because he felt sorry for her in some way? More importantly, though, Emma wondered why, if it was possible for him to be gentle with her, why he seemed to struggle with it at the same time.
Daryl set down the rag once Emma's hand was clean. He dipped his fingers into the paste and slowly applied it over top of Emma's wound.
"We never..." Daryl started to say something, but stopped himself.
"What?" Emma asked softly. "We never what?"
Daryl smoothed out the layer of paste on Emma's hand.
"That night..." Daryl made sure his eyes were hidden. "In the barn...we never...we never talked about it..."
Emma stiffened in her chair. Daryl noticed when her hand went rigid in his, but he refused to look up at her. He couldn't look her in the eye.
"I...I didn't want things to be awkward..." Emma replied quickly, her heart suddenly racing in her chest. "I should have...I should have apologized to you the morning after..."
"Apologized?" Daryl asked, wiping his fingers off on his trousers.
"For...what happened." Emma took a deep breath as Daryl started to bind her wound. "That day...it was long...a lot happened..."
Daryl listened as Emma explained herself, slowly wrapping her hand.
"I was so...I was just experiencing so many emotions..." Emma ran her free hand through her hair. "I wasn't myself when I...you know...so, I'm sorry for acting so stupidly."
Emma wished Daryl would hurry up. She wanted to get up and leave. She wanted to be anywhere but there in that kitchen with him, especially in such close proximity and with her hand cradled in his as he wrapped her up.
"Okay." Daryl finally said.
Daryl leaned down and used his teeth to tear the bandaging off.
"Okay?" Emma asked, watching Daryl as he tied off her binding.
Daryl finally lifted his gaze. There was something in Daryl's eyes that Emma didn't recognize. Though she wanted to understand how he was feeling so that she knew where he stood on the whole matter, she didn't want to remain sitting there looking deep into his eyes. She pulled her wrapped hand away from him easily.
"Okay." Daryl repeated himself with a nod.
"Good." Emma cleared her throat and stood up so quickly she knocked the chair. "Well, thank you for taking care of me...my hand, I mean."
"You're welcome..." Daryl replied with another nod.
Emma balled her hand into a fist and quickly fled the room so that she could get back to work and away from Daryl. She didn't hear him murmur her name softly to himself after she bolted, nor did she realize that the emotion that had been swirling in his eyes before had been pain.
0o0o0
Merle and Daryl saw Sam and Emma off early the day before Thanksgiving. They stood on the porch together and watched Sam and Emma ride off in Emma's carriage with Barrow pulling them along. The two brothers hadn't had a whole lot of time alone together since Emma came to be on the farm way back at the end of August. Merle and Daryl were similar in many ways - they both had rough exteriors, but the capability of being softer, they both enjoyed smoking pipes, and they were both hard workers. On the other hand, there were many more differences between the two than there were similarities.
Merle was older than Daryl by fourteen years. Since there had been such a long period of time in between Merle's and Daryl's births, the Dixons' thought Merle would be their only child. Merle's daddy, Earl, poured everything into his son. From a young age, Earl took Merle out with him to work the farm and teach him how to maintain and care for it. Merle's mother, Alice, wanted very much to educate her son. Earl put a stop to Merle's lessons before he was five years old. It conflicted with Merle learning the ropes of how to run the farm. Alice protested at first, but gave up when her pleas went unheard. Her job shifted from being a mother to being a nanny. Alice fed her son three meals a day, clothed him, and cleaned up after him. Merle spent so much time with his daddy that he became very much like him. He picked up Earl's good habits, but to Alice's dismay, his bad ones, too.
Daryl was a surprise to Earl and Alice. Earl paid little attention to his youngest son. He had spent so much time carving Merle into the young man he was becoming that he couldn't stop for even a moment to work on Daryl. That was when Alice stepped in. She began giving Daryl lessons every morning after breakfast and sometimes in the evening after supper. As Daryl got older, he realized how different he was than his older brother. Merle often teased Daryl for working less than him, for getting lessons from Alice. Eventually, Merle wore Daryl down. When he was ten, Daryl told his mother he wanted to cut back on their lessons so that he could get out and work more. Alice made a compromise with Daryl. She would allow him to get out and work alongside his daddy and his brother, but he would still have lessons with her at least twice a week. Alice even promised to teach Daryl how to hunt. As a girl, Alice had hunted religiously with her own daddy. So, Alice taught Daryl all she knew - how to read and write, how to hunt, and how to dance.
When Alice passed away, Daryl was devastated. He cried endlessly for days, mourning the only parent who had ever really cared about him. It wasn't until Merle confronted Daryl just four days after their mother died that Daryl moved on...
"Get up!" Merle had shouted, grabbing his brother by the collar. "Quit that crying! Cut it out right now, I said!"
Merle slapped his younger brother repeatedly until his cries quieted.
"She's gone." Merle said, shaking his brother. "She's gone and ain't never coming back. The sooner you learn that, the better off you'll be."
Daryl learned that day that showing emotions in front of anyone was out of the question. He never cried for his mother again. The next day, he woke with his daddy and brother and went out to work with them without a word.
It wasn't until Sam and his daddy came along that things between Merle and Daryl changed. Daryl took to Sam and his daddy quickly. Daryl felt a protective instinct to look out for Sam the way Merle had never looked out for him. He wouldn't treat Sam the way Merle had treated him. He would be a good big brother to the little boy.
Merle took notice right away. He watched the way Daryl looked out for Sam by keeping an eye on him while he worked, or how he would cheer Sam up when he hurt himself. There was something about seeing them together that made Merle jealous. He had been so busy learning the ways of the farm that he hadn't taken time to get to know his brother or become friends with him. Merle knew their daddy's days were numbered. He was getting older and would eventually wear out. After that, it would only be Merle, Daryl, Sam's daddy, and Sam. If Sam and his daddy ever moved on, Merle would only have his little brother. With that realization, Merle made it his mission to form a relationship with Daryl.
"Where you going?" Merle asked as Daryl descended the steps.
"To work." Daryl replied slowly, looking back over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow.
"Emma laid out breakfast for us." Merle motioned to the door with his head. "Let's go on in and eat before we go out. The work's not going nowhere."
Daryl followed Merle into the house. Sure enough, Emma had breakfast on the table. There was a basket of cornbread, a skillet full of scrambled eggs, and a plate piled high with bacon. Daryl sat down in his usual chair, as did Merle. They helped themselves to breakfast in silence.
"I've been meaning to ask you, but I haven't gotten a chance to..." Merle crunched on a piece of bacon. "Why ain't you making a move on our pretty little farmhand?"
Daryl glared up at his older brother with a scowl.
"I'm just asking a question, baby brother." Merle chuckled.
"There's nothing going on." Daryl grumbled angrily, violently tearing off a piece of cornbread with his teeth.
"If there's nothing going on, why you getting so angry?" Merle asked with a grin.
"Because it ain't none of your business." Daryl snapped, crumbs flying out of his mouth.
"What's none of my business?" Merle asked, feigning innocence. "I thought you said nothing was going on between you two."
"Merle, you better shut up." Daryl warned his older brother, a finger pointed at him.
"Daryl, all I'm saying is that you should do something." Merle replied calmly, taking a sip of milk. "Look, I know you like her."
"Nope." Daryl shrugged his shoulders and focused on his breakfast.
"Really?" Merle lifted an eyebrow. "'Cause if I ain't mistaken, you carried her up to bed after she fell asleep at this table."
"So?" Daryl scoffed, shoving his eggs around his plate.
"Okay." Merle sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "What about that business at the fall gathering? You said you wasn't coming, then you showed up. Why'd you come?"
"It wasn't because of her." Daryl muttered, stabbing at his eggs.
"Bullshit, little brother." Merle laughed. "You knew she was looking all pretty and whatnot, didn't want any other man talking to her-"
"That's enough." Daryl interrupted, looking up at Merle with narrowed eyes.
"...or touching her-"
"I said that's enough!" Daryl shouted, slamming a fist down on the table.
Merle was silent. He knew he had pushed hard enough for the time being. He remained seated, arms over his chest, even when Daryl shoved his chair back and stormed out of the house.
0o0o0
Emma and Sam arrived in town in the early afternoon hours. They went straight to the inn to get two rooms for the night. There were many men who stopped Emma to tell her how much they missed her cooking and to beg her to come back. Sam found the whole thing hilarious. When they had taken their things to their rooms, Emma and Sam headed over to the general store.
"Here's the list." Emma handed Sam the list of supplies that would last them the winter. "I have to look around for Christmas gifts."
"All right." Sam cracked a smile. "I won't peek."
"You better not." Emma replied, returning his smile.
While Sam handed the list off to Mr. Hawkins, Emma slowly walked up and down the rows of shelves. There were many different yarns to choose from. When Emma saw a great big ball of blue yarn the color of the shirt Sam had worn to the gathering, she knew she just had to knit him a sweater with it. It was another skill she had picked up by eavesdropping on Delia Green's lessons. Emma left the yarn where it was. She would grab it when Sam was outside helping to load up the carriage. Meanwhile, she would search for gifts for Merle and Daryl. She looked through the items for sale carefully - pocket watches, knives, hard candies, thick pairs of work gloves, etc. Finally, Emma found a little box sitting on a shelf. Engraved into the lid was a rabbit smoking a pipe. Inside of the box were three wooden pipes. It had Merle written all over it. Emma picked up the box.
"Emma?" Sam's voice was near, but he stayed out of the same aisle as Emma.
"Yes?" Emma asked.
"I'm going out to help Mr. Hawkins load up the carriage."
"Okay." Emma replied, making her way back to the ball of blue yarn.
When Sam was gone, Emma took the box of pipes and the yarn up to the counter. Lorna stood behind the register.
"There's more?" Lorna asked, running her hand over the box of pipes.
"They're presents." Emma explained, keeping an eye on the door.
"Ah." Lorna nodded understandingly as she rang up Emma's purchases. "Will that be all?"
Emma was about to reply that it was indeed all, but then she remembered Daryl. She looked over her shoulder at the shelves of goods. Nothing had called out to her when she had been looking. Emma was beginning to wonder if she should just select a ball of yarn and knit him a sweater too, but then she saw it. It was hanging up on the wall, which is why she hadn't noticed it right away. The minute her eyes fell upon it, she knew.
"No," Emma smiled and pointed to the wall, "I'll be needing that, too."
0o0o0
After his fight with Merle, Daryl did the one thing that he knew could calm him down and work out his frustration simultaneously - hunting. He took up his crossbow and his knives and went out into the woods, but he found that it was hard to focus. That was unusual for Daryl. Out in nature, deep within the forest, Daryl usually felt at his best. Sure, there were days when he became angry when he was unable to bag the animal he was pursuing, but even a bad day of hunting was a good day to Daryl. That day, however, Daryl was having trouble getting into the hunting spirit. He couldn't shake the things he and Merle had argued about over breakfast. He tried for hours to get into the mindset, but after he was unable, Daryl gave up. Instead, he found a place on the edge of the forest overlooking a deep ravine to sit and be alone with his thoughts.
Over the past few months, Daryl had felt a change within him. Emma was making him go soft, just like his mother. Whenever he woke in the morning, he felt anxious knowing that he was going to see Emma at breakfast. That anxiety would inhabit his chest and remain until he walked through the door and saw her face. The first time he had seen her, snug in his arms and hers around his neck, he found himself captivated by her beauty in the same way the sight of the mountains captured his attention at sunrise and sunset. Daryl found himself worrying about her, like when her callous had burst. Seeing blood on the palm of her hand sent his stomach tying itself into knots, which only untied themselves once her hand was clean and wrapped.
Daryl shut his eyes when he remembered their conversation while he had cleaned her hand up. That night in the barn, when Emma had suddenly kissed him, Daryl had been so surprised by her actions that he couldn't bring himself to return her gesture. He would have never expected Emma to kiss him. Daryl himself had never kissed a woman before. Truthfully, it had scared the hell out of him, how he felt when Emma kissed him. The whole time her lips had been on his, and even after, his heart had been pounding. He couldn't draw breath, so he had held it until Emma finally withdrew. He had felt so conflicted as to what to do and how to react that he had done nothing at all, which to him, had been worse than pulling Emma off of him to end her kiss. Daryl knew by the horror on Emma's face and the way she flew up into the loft that he should have done something. He should have pushed her away, or he should have kissed her back. That was why Daryl considered climbing the ladder to go to Emma, but he realized that the moment had passed. By not making a decision either way, he had made a decision. So, he left.
Sleep did not come easily that night, although he tried for hours to. He only slept for an hour or so, but when he woke, he still felt terribly about the whole situation. He had been dreading breakfast that morning, but knew that if he didn't show up at Merle's, not only would Merle and Sam figure out that something was wrong, but Emma would know that Daryl was reeling over the events that had taken place in the barn. When Daryl showed up for breakfast, things were as normal as ever. It relaxed him slightly, but in a way, it gave him more to think about. Why was it so easy for Emma to act normally after what had happened, or was she acting at all? Had the kiss meant nothing to her? Was it just something she had done while caught up in the moment upon realizing that Barrow had been returned to her? Daryl put those questions aside during the day, but at night as he lay in bed, he wrestled with them for hours.
When Emma injured her hand, Daryl finally worked up the courage to speak with her about the kiss. It had suddenly come over him as he held her hand in his while he cleaned it and spread witch hazel paste over it. Emma softened him around the edges, but was that such a bad thing? He was still Daryl Dixon, who hunted for hours on end in the forest, who worked hard on the farm, who enjoyed his pipe and strong, black coffee. Emma couldn't take those things from him. She didn't have the power to, nor did she want to. Daryl knew that. In those moments with her, like the one in the kitchen with her injured hand, Daryl suddenly became so afraid of losing himself that he tried to sidestep out of those moments as quickly as possible. Even more so than being afraid of losing some part of himself to Emma, Daryl feared being vulnerable. Ever since his mother died, Daryl had hidden his emotions from the world to protect himself from being hurt, or underestimated, or judged. That had become his way of life for so many years, Daryl wasn't sure how to be any different or to open himself up to others around him. Emma, most of all, but as he held her hand in the kitchen that day, he suddenly wanted to tell her the truth about that night. He wanted to tell her he was sorry for how he acted, to tell her that if he could change it, he would.
Then, she had told him what he had wondered all the time that had passed since - the kiss had meant nothing. It had been a mistake. Daryl was able to keep his pain at bay. He had been doing it for years. He concealed the fact that he was hurt by Emma's revelation that her kiss had meant nothing. He finished off Emma's hand with the same expression on his face. When she questioned him, he replied as he would normally. After she had gone, Daryl got up from the table and left his brother's house without a second glance. He knew how Emma felt. So, he would suppress his own feelings until they lay dormant for so long that they no longer meant anything. Just like with his mother.
After a while, Daryl got up to make the journey back home. With his crossbow over one shoulder, he headed deep into the trees.
0o0o0
The next morning, Emma woke up bright and early. As she exited her room, Sam's door opened and he emerged. He was wearing the same blue shirt he had worn the day of the fall gathering. His hair was neat and combed. It was very clear that he was ready to see Amy.
"I thought we could stop by the Horvaths' to see if they need any help." Emma explained as she and Sam descended the stairs.
"I was thinking the same thing." Sam replied eagerly.
Emma smiled to herself.
Downstairs, Carol was audibly at work in the kitchen, preparing her own Thanksgiving meal. Sophia was running in and out, helping her mother. Emma and Sam headed outside and in the direction of the Horvaths'. On their way, Emma couldn't help but notice that they were passing by where Clarke worked and lived. Emma paused on the street corner, looking down the way at his building. She thought back to the reverend's letter. Emma hadn't given that part of it much thought at the time, but standing in town, she was wondering if she should invite Clarke to the Grimes' or not. She remembered how sad he had looked after she had denied his proposal. Would it be in his best interest to spend an entire day with Emma, even if that meant he wouldn't be spending Thanksgiving alone?
"Emma?" Sam set a hand on Emma's shoulder, breaking her concentration. "Is something the matter?"
Emma thought maybe she was being selfish by considering asking Clarke over for the holiday.
"No." Emma shook her head.
"What is it?" Sam asked as they were on their way again.
"Do you remember when I told you about Clarke?" Emma asked as she and Sam walked down the street.
"He's the man who kept you company at the inn, right?" Sam asked. "The one who was all nervous around you and such? The one who fell at the fall gathering?"
"Yes." Emma replied with a nod. "Well, later on at the gathering...he asked me to marry him."
Sam stopped in his tracks.
"What?" Sam asked as Emma stopped and turned to face him. "He...he did?"
"He did, but I denied his request."
"Oh..." Sam scratched the back of his head. "I'm sorry, Emma."
"Why?" Emma asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I don't know." Sam shrugged his shoulders. "I guess it just kinda sounds like a sad thing. I mean, I would've been happy for you if you'd have said yes, but...well, I would've missed you."
Emma's expression softened and she smiled warmly.
"I'm not going anywhere." Emma murmured reassuringly. "I would miss you too much to leave the farm."
Sam returned her smile. As they started walking again, Sam offered Emma his arm. Emma accepted it. She pulled him close to her as they walked together.
"Anyways, the reverend wrote in his letter that if I wanted, I could invite Clarke." Emma explained. "I was just wondering if I should or not."
"I see." Sam nodded.
Emma left it at that. They were quiet for the rest of the walk to the reverend's. When they reached the house, Emma knocked on the door while Sam stood at the base of the steps. Andrea answered the door with a smile, a towel in her hands. When she saw that it was Emma on the other side of the door, her smile lessened, but didn't disappear completely.
"Hello, Emma." Andrea opened the door more. "Didn't my father tell you supper was at the Grimes'?"
"He did, but Sam and I figured we could lend a hand." Emma replied sweetly.
"Sam?" Andrea quirked an eyebrow.
Emma leaned to one side. Sam waved up at Andrea with a smile.
"I'm sure your sister has mentioned him." Emma leaned back to where she had stood previously. "They spent time together at the fall gathering."
"Ah, yes." Andrea nodded. "I seem to remember Amy mentioning a boy once or twice."
Emma smirked. She would bet her few possessions that Amy had mentioned Sam more than just once or twice. She would even wager a guess that Andrea knew immediately who Sam was, but that she was playing dumb to discourage him or just to be nasty. Emma wouldn't cause a scene, but she wouldn't allow Andrea to embarrass Sam.
"So, could we come in to give you and your sister a hand?" Emma asked.
"Of course." Andrea replied with a sigh, stepping aside to allow Emma and Sam inside.
Emma let Sam in first, keeping distance in between him and Andrea.
"Oh, Emma, what are you wearing?" Andrea asked as she closed the door.
Emma looked down at the brown skirt and pale, pink blouse she was dressed in. She smiled down at herself before she looked up and turned towards Andrea, who was gazing upon her with disapproval.
"It wasn't my intention to offend you with these rags." Emma held her arms out and turned in a slow circle. "They were all I had, Andrea."
Sam stifled a snicker. Andrea rolled her eyes at Emma's theatrics. She folded her arms over her chest.
"Perhaps you would like to borrow something of mine?" Andrea asked.
Before Emma could answer, the reverend entered the foyer. He was dressed in his church attire - black slacks, a white shirt, and a black vest.
"Sam." The reverend shook Sam's hand before he turned to Emma. "Emma."
"Reverend." Emma shook the reverend's hand.
"We're so glad you could make it." The reverend glanced at the door, then back at Sam and Emma. "Where are Merle and Daryl?"
"They stayed back at the farm, but were grateful for the invitation." Emma replied.
"Well, we would have enjoyed their company, but alas." The reverend put his arm around Sam. "While the ladies finish up in the kitchen, why don't you and I have a seat in the parlor?"
"That would be good, sir." Sam nodded up at the reverend.
Emma watched them go into the next room with a smile. When she looked back and saw Andrea frowning after them, her smile deepened. Andrea rolled her eyes with a sigh.
"Amy is in the kitchen." Andrea huffed, already heading in that direction.
Emma followed after Andrea into the kitchen. Amy was packing away a plethora of rolls and cornbread muffins into a basket. She was just covering them in cloth when she looked up and saw Emma in the doorway. Her face brightened.
"Emma!" Amy exclaimed excitedly, leaving the basket to hug Emma.
"It's good to see you, Amy." Emma returned Amy's embrace. "Happy Thanksgiving."
"Happy Thanksgiving." Amy replied, giving Emma a squeeze before releasing her. "Is Sam here with you?"
"He is." Emma nodded. "He's sitting with your daddy out in the parlor."
Amy looked down at herself. Her apron was soiled from cooking all morning.
"I can't have him see me like this." Amy looked up. "Will you promise to make sure he stays in the parlor until I'm dressed for supper?"
"Of course." Emma reassured her.
Emma helped Andrea and Amy finish up with the food. While Emma and Andrea packed it away, Amy went to go and freshen up. By the time she had finished, the Horvaths' carriage was packed up and ready to go. The reverend and his daughters rode ahead while Emma and Sam returned to the inn for their own carriage. They rode to the Grimes' farm and arrived just as the food was being laid out on the table.
Rick, Shane, Carl, and the reverend were already seated at the table. Amy and Andrea were arranging all of the platters and baskets. Sam sat down at the table with the other men. Emma was about to help Andrea and Amy when she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye. She looked into the next room and saw Lori shifting positions from her place on the sofa. Emma decided to go and see her before dinner. She was taken aback by how weak Lori appeared, but kept the shock off of her face. Lori was as white as a ghost. The dark circles under her eyes and her brunette locks gave her a haunting look. Most of her body was hidden under a thick blanket. Emma could make out the shape of her burgeoning belly from beneath it.
"Happy Thanksgiving, Emma." Lori greeted Emma warmly with a smile.
"Happy Thanksgiving, Mrs. Grimes." Emma replied, mirroring her smile.
"I thought I told you to call me Lori." Lori scolded Emma gently. "Won't you sit?"
"Um..." Emma looked around her for a place to sit.
"Have a seat here." Lori moved her legs to make room for Emma.
Emma sat down on the edge of the sofa.
"How are you feeling?" Emma asked as Lori propped her head up on the pillow behind it.
"Today is a good day." Lori answered, still smiling. "The doctor says the baby should be coming sometime just before Christmas."
Lori's smile softened around the edges as she looked away from Emma.
"It will all be better then." Lori murmured, almost to herself.
"Of course it will." Emma agreed.
Lori looked back up at Emma, her smile becoming stronger again.
"How have things been on the farm?"
Emma wondered if she was asking because she wanted to know, or because she was hoping things were terrible enough to where Emma was seeking other employment opportunities. Lori seemes sincere enough.
"They've been good." Emma replied, running her hand along the sofa cushion.
"Well, that's good." Lori ran her hand up and down her belly.
"You know," Emma lowered her voice, "you could always give the job to Andrea."
Lori bit her lip.
"Well...oh, I'll sound so ungrateful after all she did today, but..." Lori's hand stilled. "Andrea was so kind in bringing supper to us today, but...well, she...she's-"
"She's as sour as a bushel of lemons?" Emma asked.
Lori sucked her lips into her mouth to keep from laughing, but when Emma began to chuckle softly, she couldn't help herself. Lori held her belly as she laughed as quietly as she could muster.
"We're awful." Lori said, covering her mouth to hide her smile.
"It's the truth." Emma shrugged.
Emma looked over her shoulder and saw that the table was nearly all the way set.
"Well, I should help the girls finish up." Emma said, getting up from the sofa.
"Emma?"
Emma turned back towards Lori, who was smiling up at her.
"I just want you to know that the job is still and always will be yours if you want it."
"Okay." Emma replied with a nod. "Thank you."
As she turned to leave again, Lori suddenly caught Emma's wrist. When she looked down at Lori, the smile had vanished. Her expression was severe.
"I mean it. It's yours." Lori told Emma solemnly. "No matter what happens."
Emma realized what Lori was trying to say. She felt Lori's grip loosen and eventually release her altogether, but she remained standing over her. Lori's expression remained the same. For a moment, her brown eyes filled with tears, but were gone as she blinked. Emma didn't know what to say to comfort Lori, or to ease her worries. She didn't get a chance to try as everyone slowly filtered into the room to say grace before dinner.
"Master Pretender" - First Aid Kit [Emma works around the farm]
"Nothing But The Whole Wide World" - Jakob Dylan [Daryl thinking of Emma]