Chapter 12 - Christmas and Spring
With Christmas fast approaching, Emma decided that it was time to get a tree. She figured Lori had decorated a tree and her home for her men, but especially for Carl. Even though Rick was making process, though he still wasn't speaking much when he was up and around during the day, Emma didn't think he was doing well enough to take it upon himself to feel the house with Christmas spirit for his son. Just a few days before Christmas, Emma got up and made breakfast as she always did. Carl came downstairs first. He already had a schoolbook under his arm for once breakfast was finished.
"You won't be needing that today." Emma told Carl as he set his book down on the table.
"Why not?" Carl asked, his brow furrowing in confusion as Emma set the table.
"Well," Emma replied as she took her seat adjacent to Carl, "you and I are going out today to find ourselves a Christmas tree."
Emma started piling Carl's plate with eggs and bacon. When she glanced up from his full plate, Carl was staring at her. She set his plate down in front of him, waiting for some sort of reaction or reply. However, she wasn't prepared when Carl jumped up from his chair and suddenly threw his arms around her. Emma barely had time to react before Carl was pulling away from her. For the first time since she had gotten there, Carl was really smiling. Emma returned his smile, but pointed sternly at his plate.
"The sooner you eat, the sooner we can go."
"Go where?"
Emma looked up to see Rick standing at the base of the stairs, adjusting the collar of his shirt. Carl wasn't smiling anymore. He had his head ducked low as he started shoveling eggs into his mouth.
"I'm taking Carl out to get a tree." Emma answered as Rick slowly made his way to the table.
Rick grunted in reply as he took a seat at the opposite side of the table. Emma made Rick a plate and passed it to him. He looked up long enough to accept the plate, but then he was staring down at it as he began to eat. Emma's glance volleyed between Rick and Carl as they both ate with their heads down and their eyes on their food, as though it would disappear if they looked away for even a split second. Emma had a nagging feeling that if Lori were there to see their behavior, she would disapprove. She would be counting on Emma to improve upon the situation.
"Are there any favorite spots to look?" Emma asked, looking between Rick and Carl.
Rick paused, his eyes still cast down upon his breakfast.
"No." Rick mumbled, returning to his meal.
Emma sighed.
"Carl, where should we start?" Emma asked, turning towards the boy on her right.
"Umm..." Carl looked up from his breakfast at Emma. "Well, Dad...he would take me out past the orchard where the trees get thicker for a while, then there's a clearing..."
Carl was glancing almost nervously in his father's direction as he spoke. Rick was pushing his food around on his plate as his son spoke, but he never lifted his eyes.
"Great." Emma spoke up when Carl's train of thought wandered. "We'll start there."
Carl looked back down at his plate, and as though his dad sensed it, Rick finally lifted his eyes. Emma watched him as he stared at his son from across the table. His lips parted several times as though he wanted to speak up, but he never did. When Rick noticed Emma watching him, he lifted his fork and continued eating his breakfast in silence.
When breakfast was through, Emma cleaned up while Carl bundled up for their trip out into the snow. Rick remained in the kitchen even after he had finished eating and his plate had been cleared. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs shuffling his feet. Emma could hear him doing it while she was cleaning up. Finally, she turned to look at Rick.
"What is it?" Emma asked.
Rick immediately looked down and began rubbing the back of his neck as though it ached tremendously.
"I can't...seem to find my liquor..." Rick muttered, his eyes on the floor.
"For good reason," Emma turned back around, "I got rid of it all."
Rick sighed from behind Emma.
"Why?"
"You know why." Emma answered simply.
Emma heard Rick's footsteps approaching her, but she didn't look up as Rick came to her.
"Listen, Emma...I appreciate what you've done...but..."
Emma glanced up at Rick as he struggled to finish his statement. There were tears welling up in his eyes, but he was doing his best to keep them at bay.
"I ain't gonna be fixed overnight." Rick finally admitted. "The whiskey...it's been helping me-"
"No it hasn't." Emma interrupted, shaking her head. "It's been keeping you drunk so that you don't have to think about what happened or what you're going to do now that Lori is gone."
Rick winced.
"Emma, I-"
"No." Emma said sternly, lifting her gaze so that Rick knew how serious she was.
Before Rick could retort, there was a knock at the door. When Rick didn't move to answer it, Emma wiped her hands off on her apron and went to the door herself. Emma recognized the young man. He was one of the town's couriers.
"Are you Emma Thorne, ma'am?" The boy asked, reaching into his bag.
"I am." Emma replied.
"I have a letter for you from Reverend Horvath." The boy pulled an envelope out of his bag and held it out to Emma. "The reverend said you might want to reply."
"Come in and sit by the fire." Emma stood aside, letter in hand, so that the boy could come in.
While the young man warmed himself by the fire, Emma tore open the letter.
Emma,
Deputy Walsh paid me a visit to let me know that things seemed to be going well with you, and with Rick and Carl. I am glad to hear of it. We have all been praying for Rick and Carl to find their way through their grief together, and for you to guide them through it. It appears our prayers have been answered.
Baby Judith is doing just fine. Amy has grown fond of the baby, but remembers that her place is with her father and her brother. Amy and I would like to come and see all of you for Christmas. Perhaps the holidays won't seem so gloomy if we are all together? Let me know if that would please you.
Fondly,
Reverend Horvath
Emma went to the desk in the living room and found a piece of paper and something to write with. She scrawled out a quick reply back to the reverend.
Reverend,
You and Amy are more than welcome to come by on Christmas. I was planning to serve an early supper for Rick and Carl sometime in the afternoon.
Emma
0o0o0
Emma and Carl found a suitable tree in the clearing Carl described at breakfast. They dragged it back to the farm and had it trimmed up by mid afternoon. After the tree was trimmed, Emma and Carl brought the tree up to the house so that they could set it up in the living room and Emma could make a late lunch for everyone. When they got inside, Emma was puzzled by a stack of boxes sitting by the stairs. They hadn't been there before she and Carl had left to find a tree.
"What are those, Carl?" Emma asked, shutting the door behind them once the tree was on the floor inside.
Carl inspected the boxes while Emma unwrapped her scarf from around her neck. She turned to hang it up on one of the hooks on the wall. When she turned back around, Carl was standing with his back to her. His head was hanging low on his shoulders.
"Carl?"
Emma set her hand on Carl's shoulder as she looked down to see what he was looking at. He was holding an ornament shaped like a dove in his hand. When Emma touched him, he looked up at her with tears shining in his eyes.
"They're my mom's Christmas ornaments." Carl finally replied quietly.
As Carl returned to studying the ornament in his hand, Emma looked up the stairs. Lou and Teddy had been out in the barn when she and Carl returned from hunting for a tree. Neither one of them had said anything about bringing in boxes of Christmas stuff, which they surely would have. Emma hadn't seen Rick since she and Carl had gotten back. She knew it was him who had retrieved the boxes. When she looked back down at Carl, who was smiling softly at the dove, she also knew that Rick had gotten those boxes of Christmas decorations for Carl.
"Well," Emma clapped Carl on the back, "why don't you start sorting through all of that while I put up this tree and make lunch?"
Carl was more than eager to oblige. He quickly took the boxes into the living room and started sorting ornaments into piles. He had the colored balls in one pile, the shaped ones in another pile, strands of tinsel and ribbon in another.
Meanwhile, Emma put the tree up in the corner and then went into the kitchen to make a quick lunch. She had Carl stop his sorting long enough to take lunch out to Lou and Teddy, then to sit down and eat himself. Emma took a tray upstairs to Rick, but he was sleeping. She left the tray beside the bed and returned downstairs, where Carl had wolfed down his lunch so that he could get back to his mother's boxes. Once lunch was cleaned up, Emma went into the living room to help Carl decorate the tree.
As Emma cut off strands of ribbon to make bows with, she remembered her makeshift tree decorations on the Dixon farm. The tree she and Sam had picked out had been about a foot shorter than the tree she and Carl had chosen. The tree standing in the Grimes' living room was skinnier, while the one in the Dixon house was fatter. Emma wondered if Merle and Sam had kept the tree, or if Merle had tossed it out for critters to make a home in. She had an inkling that it was still standing in their living room. Merle could be a real ass, but he and Emma had gotten to know each other during the time she had worked for him on the farm. They had an understanding. Emma wouldn't stand for a lot of his behavior. Merle knew that, so he had improved upon certain areas of his behavior, but he was still himself. Merle and Sam weren't very much alike at all.
When Emma thought of Sam, she smiled to herself. She missed that sweet kid. It was almost painful to think of him, and even Merle. As she held a picture of the farm in the fall, with Skipper resting on the porch while the men all sat around eating lunch, Emma amongst them making sure they were behaving themselves, she felt an ache in her chest. Shaking her head, as though she were trying to shake the memories from her mind, Emma returned to the task at hand.
0o0o0
It was Christmas Eve on the Dixon farm when Merle and Sam finally spoke of Emma. Since she had gone, neither of them had brought her up in conversation, though both of them had silently thought of her. For Sam, it was often. At meals, he would remember her cooking and how he had never gone hungry with her around. While he flipped through books in the evening, he would think of their lessons. Skipper slept in his bed at night since Emma had gone. At first, the dog's fur had been full of her scent. Over time, that scent faded. Sam could tell that the old dog missed Emma. Sometimes he would just sit by the front door as though he were waiting for Emma to walk through it.
For Merle, it was from time to time. Mostly, he was frustrated with his idiot little brother for taking off the way he did and ruining everything. The truth was, Merle had secret intentions when he hired Emma to be his farmhand and cook. He had been honest about wanting more help around the farm, but when he had spoken with Emma about the job, he had begun to judge her character and decided that she would be perfect for Daryl. Merle was old and set in his ways. He was happy living the single life. There was no wife to nag him and no kids to pull at his clothes and whine. His brother was a different story. Merle knew how much time Daryl had spent with their mother while she had been alive. She had rubbed off on Daryl a great deal. Even if he didn't talk about it, Daryl missed her. He needed that female presence in his life, even if it wasn't obvious. Merle could picture Daryl with a wife, but only if she was as hardworking and as tough as he was. Emma was perfect for him. Still, Merle hadn't been totally sold on the idea until he saw the way Daryl looked at Emma the morning of the fall gathering. Then, he was sure.
That evening, as he looked at the Christmas tree Emma had decorated herself, Merle was suddenly struck by just how badly his brother had messed up by leaving the farm.
"What'd my brother say to you?" Merle asked suddenly as he smoked his pipe by the fire.
"What?" Sam asked confusedly, looking up from his book.
"When you went to see him, what'd he say?" Merle asked.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Sam mumbled, looking back down at his book.
"Come on, boy." Merle took a puff of his pipe. "I know you went to see Daryl the night before Emma left. What'd he say?"
Merle waited while Sam decided whether or not to admit it. Then, Sam closed his book.
"He didn't say much...I mostly did all the talking." Sam answered slowly. "He said he wanted to be alone, told me to get out when he didn't like what I had to say."
Merle grunted.
"What'd you say?" Merle asked.
"I told him...he was stupid." Sam replied, glancing down at the closed book in his lap.
Merle erupted into a fit of laughter as he imagined meek, young Sam telling Daryl he was stupid. He would have liked to have seen that.
"Oh, boy, that's too funny." Merle said when he finally caught his breath.
Then, it was quiet again. Merle continued looking over the tree Emma and Sam had brought back. His eyes fell upon the three parcels beneath it. There had only been two, but then Sam had found a third in the barn loft. The third was something heavy inside of a burlap sack, tied off with a ribbon to keep it closed. Since the two Emma had placed beneath the tree both had names written on them, Merle and Sam, Merle guessed that the third was for Daryl.
"Think we should open 'em?" Merle asked, nodding towards the tree and the gifts under them.
"It's not Christmas." Sam replied with a furrowed brow.
"It's close enough." Merle argued, getting up from his chair.
Before Sam could protest, Merle had thrown him his gift and picked up his own. As Merle made his way back to his chair, he could hear Sam tearing the paper off of his present. By the time Merle had taken his seat again, Sam had unwrapped his gift from Emma. It was a thick, blue sweater.
"Emma make that herself?" Merle asked as Sam studied the sweater.
"Yeah." Sam murmured, running his fingers along one of the sleeves.
Merle grunted in reply as he slowly tore open his own gift. He looked down at the box with a puzzled expression.
"What the hell is this?" Merle muttered to himself, touching the carving on the lid.
"Open it up." Sam told him, leaning forward to get a better look.
Merle gripped his pipe harder between his teeth as he opened the lid of the box to reveal three pipes. One was small, but it had ornate carvings and details that were easily visible against the unstained wood. The second and third pipes were the same size, but one of them had been stained a dark brown shade while the other was a dark cherry color. They were beautiful.
"What is it?" Sam asked as Merle carefully ran his fingers over each pipe.
As Merle looked down at the pipes, it was the first time he had actually missed Emma since she had gone. Sam seemed to sense that.
"I miss her, too." Sam said softly.
Merle cleared his throat and closed the box.
"What do you think's in that bag?" Merle asked, changing the subject.
Sam turned his head to look at the bag.
"I don't know." Sam answered with a shrug of his shoulders.
"Well, whatever it is, he don't deserve it." Merle said as he placed one hand on his brand new box of pipes.
0o0o0
The reverend had written Emma back to let her know that himself, Amy, Andrea, Shane, and baby Judith would be coming to dinner on Christmas. He said he would send Amy and Andrea over ahead of time to help with supper. Emma knew that even if she had written back to say that was unnecessary, Amy and Andrea would have shown up anyways, so she didn't bother to protest.
On Christmas morning, Emma went downstairs to start a light breakfast. As she descended the steps, she saw Carl sleeping on the sofa. She had seen him off to bed the evening before, so he had to have snuck downstairs after Emma was already in bed. She shook her head with a smile as she went into the kitchen to make breakfast. She was just finishing up when she heard Rick coming downstairs. Emma began setting the table. When she turned to do so, she stopped when she saw Rick slowly taking a seat on the sofa. He was looking down at Carl as he slept. Emma watched quietly. She didn't want to make a sound and risk interrupting any sort of moment that might be taking place. Then, she heard hushed voices. One voice was deeper than the other, and Emma knew Carl had woken, and he and his dad were talking to each other. The talking went on for a few minutes before a pair of arms were snaking up around Rick's neck. Emma couldn't see Carl from where she stood, but she could see Rick returning his son's embrace. His shoulders were visibly trembling.
As Emma looked on silently from the kitchen, a strange feeling swept over her. She suddenly understood why Lori had wanted Emma to come and work on the Grimes' farm. Lori knew her boys well enough to know how they would grieve for her once she was gone. For a long time, at least since she had offered Emma a job, Lori had known that her second pregnancy might end up taking her life. She knew that Rick and Carl would need the help of an outsider, someone like Emma who wouldn't put up with their nonsense. Lori knew that Emma would be able to put the pieces of her family back together again after her death. Even though it was a process, as Emma watched Rick and Carl hug, she knew that things were moving in the right direction.
Once the embrace ended, Emma resumed setting the table. The sounds from the kitchen seemed to draw Rick and Carl. They made their way into the kitchen together, Rick's hand on his son's shoulder. Before Emma could say a word, Carl had circled the table and was wrapping his arms around Emma's midsection.
"Merry Christmas, Emma." Carl said, his voice muffled by Emma's blouse.
Emma wrapped her arms around Carl.
"Merry Christmas, Carl." Emma murmured, running one hand slowly up and down Carl's back.
When Carl released Emma, the three of them sat down for breakfast. Although they ate in their usual silence, it was a more pleasant silence than prior meals. At one time or another during breakfast, Rick or Carl or Emma would look up from their plate and smile at one another. Emma knew it was what Lori would have wanted. She wouldn't have asked for anything more.
"Well, Carl, do you want to open your gifts before company arrives?" Emma asked as breakfast began to wind down.
Carl looked up from his empty plate with a beaming smile.
"I'll take that as a yes." Emma laughed.
As Emma looked down at Rick, she realized that his expression had become troubled. She frowned in his direction, but quickly hid it as she turned towards Carl.
"Go on and have a seat in the living room. Your dad will be in shortly."
Carl leapt up from the table and excitedly dashed into the living room.
"Rick?" Emma asked, lifting an eyebrow. "What's the matter?"
Rick was staring down at his empty plate.
"I didn't get Carl anything for Christmas." Rick muttered, his voice full of shame. "There aren't any gifts for him to open."
Emma pulled her lips into a smirk as she got up from the table to clear it.
"Is that all?" Emma asked, taking Carl's plate and then Rick's.
Rick looked up from the table.
"What do you mean?"
"There are presents under that tree for Carl." Emma reassured Rick as she turned to set their plates on the counter.
When she turned back around, Rick was peering confusedly into the living room.
"Go on and take a look if you don't believe me." Emma said, shooing Rick away with her hand.
Rick slowly got up from the table and headed into the living room where Carl was sitting cross legged on the floor, bouncing up and down. Emma watched them as Rick investigated beneath the tree. Carl became impatient and began his own investigation. While they inspected the few wrapped gifts under the Christmas tree, Emma began cleaning up breakfast. She could hear the paper being torn and Carl's excited commentary as he opened each present. What Rick didn't know was that Emma had gone out two days before Christmas to pick up a few things for Carl. Lorna Hawkins helped her to choose several items. Some of them were practical, but most of them were recreational.
A while after the ripping and tearing had ended, Emma heard Rick's heavy footsteps coming into the kitchen. At the same time Emma felt his presence beside her, his hand was wrapping around her wrist. Emma looked up to see Rick's teary eyes, but his mouth was pulled into a soft smile.
"Emma," Rick spoke in a soft, low voice, "you didn't have to do that."
"It was nothing." Emma insisted, looking back down at the dishes she was cleaning.
"It's not nothing." Rick disagreed gently, his fingers becoming tighter around Emma's wrist.
Emma lifted her eyes to meet Rick's once again.
"It's everything." Rick whispered, his voice cracking as he became emotional.
0o0o0
The first signs of spring came in mid March as most of the snow started to melt. It was still cold outside, but the sun shone bright enough to begin thawing the ice that covered water and that hung from the edges of roofs. Soon, the ground would be unearthed to reveal thick mud and dead grass. Come April, though, the grass would be on the mend, trees would be budding and blossoming, and flowers would begin the process of breaking through the soil. By May, it would be beautiful.
With those first signs of spring, Daryl knew it was time to return home. Alone at the cabin, Daryl had let his hair grow long and a full, bushy beard now covered his face. The morning Daryl decided to leave for home, he looked into a mirror as he hacked away at his beard. As he groomed himself for the first time in months, Daryl studied his longer hair in the mirror. He thought back to all those times Emma had cut Sam's hair, or when she took a razor to Merle's head. He remembered once telling her that he would never let her get her hands on his hair. As he looked his new mop over, he decided that maybe he would let Emma cut it for him. She would do a better job than he would.
At first, away from the farm and Emma, and after Sam's visit, Daryl had been very angry for days. He was angry with Emma for having lied to him, for letting him act like a fool. He was angry with Merle for hiring her in the first place. He was angry with Sam for coming up to the cabin and telling him his business. Most of all, though, Daryl was angry with himself. For so long, he had expertly concealed any emotions that bubbled up inside of him. He woke, he worked, he hunted, he slept. He existed, and that existence had never caused him any trouble or grief. Then, Emma had come along and caused him more trouble and more grief than Daryl could bear. So much so that he had to leave his home to escape the pain and humiliation he felt for having kissed and laid with Emma, all while she was engaged to another.
Then, as time passed, Daryl's anger subsided. Anger gave way to apathy. In his solitude, Daryl found peace. He found himself again, the man he was before Emma came to be on the farm. Once he settled back into his old ways, Daryl didn't think of Emma anymore. At first, it took practice and discipline. There were several nights where he dreamed of her blonde curls, her green eyes, and the feel of her body under his. To combat those dreams, Daryl deprived himself of sleep. He stayed awake for three nights before he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. Emma never entered his dreams again. Then, it didn't take effort to not think of Emma. She wasn't even the ghost of a thought to Daryl anymore. She was just his brother's hire, a good cook, a hard worker, and a lady who was spoken for. So, they could coexist on the farm until she left to get hitched to Clarke.
Daryl left his hair long and tended to the cuts on his face before he started packing up what little he had to take back with him. Jim seemed more than ready to leave the cabin. He excitedly snorted and tossed his mane about as Daryl saddled and bridled him. When the saddlebags were secure, Daryl climbed into the saddle to take his leave. He gave one last look at the cabin, grateful to it for his months of peace and quiet. Then, he was on his way home.
When Daryl rode onto the farm and up to the barn, he heard Skipper barking inside his brother's house. He knew the dog would alert the others to his homecoming, meanwhile, Daryl took care of Jim and led him into his stall. He could tell the horse was glad to be home. By the time he had done all of that and was exiting the barn, Skipper was out on the front porch with Merle and Sam. They were both staring at him strangely as he made his way up to the house.
"What?" Daryl asked as he got close. "I said I'd be back in spring."
Sam opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but Merle spoke first.
"Well, welcome back, little brother."
Daryl gave Merle a nod in return before turning to look at Sam, who was looking down at the porch.
"Sam-"
"I'm going out to check the fences." Sam muttered, descending the steps with Skipper hot on his heels.
Daryl watched him go. He figured he was still sore with him for leaving back in December. Daryl wondered why he hadn't gotten over the whole thing. Daryl had. He decided not to think about it. Sam would get over it eventually, and if he didn't, Daryl would make him.
"Sam made us a little something to eat for breakfast if you're hungry." Merle said, pointing to the door with his thumb. "I'm gonna go on and start my day, too."
"Sam made breakfast?" Daryl asked as Merle started down the stairs.
"Yeah." Merle replied.
"What about Emma?" Daryl asked.
Merle stopped in his tracks when Daryl asked about Emma. He slowly turned to look over his shoulder at his little brother.
"She's gone." Merle answered simply.
Daryl watched Merle head out to start the work day. He couldn't help but feel somewhat relieved by the news. Emma had finally gone back to town to get married. Even though they would have to go back to cooking their own meals and Daryl would have to cut his own hair, he thought it was right that things were going back to normal.
0o0o0
That evening, Daryl went up to his brother's house out of habit. He didn't realize his mistake until he was already walking through the front door. They had only taken meals together when Emma cooked for them. Surely without her around, things had returned to normal.
"Where you going?" Merle asked when Daryl turned to leave.
"Home for dinner." Daryl replied slowly.
"Sam's got dinner going in the kitchen." Merle responded, returning to his pipe. "You can stay if you want to."
Daryl was a bit taken aback by Sam's new role as cook, but he recovered quickly and took a seat on the sofa to smoke his own pipe. Merle and Daryl smoked in silence while Sam made supper. When the meal was ready, Merle and Daryl left their pipes and went into the kitchen to eat. It was silent during the meal, except for forks and knives scraping against plates. Daryl was becoming agitated because every time he glanced up from his plate, Sam would glare in his direction. After about the fourth time, Daryl set his fork down loudly.
"Okay, Sam," Daryl sighed, "what do you want to say?"
"I don't have anything to say to you that I didn't say back in December." Sam muttered, looking back down at his plate.
"Then, why do you keep eyeballing me?" Daryl asked.
Sam stabbed a boiled potato and forced it into his mouth. He chewed.
"You gonna answer me?" Daryl asked, becoming more annoyed as the seconds ticked by.
Sam still didn't answer or look up from his plate, so Daryl picked up his fork to continue eating.
"I don't even know why you care." Daryl smirked. "She's gone. She left."
Sam threw down his silverware. They bounced off of his plate and clattered to the floor.
"She left because of you." Sam snapped.
"She left because she's getting married!" Daryl shouted angrily, shoving his plate away from him. "Her leaving's got nothing to do with me!"
Then, it was quiet again. Daryl became puzzled by the looks on Merle's and Sam's faces as he looked between them. Sam squinted across the table at Daryl, his brow furrowed in confusion. Merle folded his arms over his chest as he lifted an eyebrow.
"What?" Daryl asked.
"Married?" Sam asked. "Why would you think Emma was getting married?"
"I found a letter in..." Daryl realized he didn't want Merle and Sam knowing about his night with Emma, if they didn't know already. "I found a letter from that reverend in town. He said he heard about Clarke's proposal, that she could invite him to Thanksgiving if she wanted."
Almost immediately, the look on Sam's face melted away as he dissolved into laughter. He put his face into his hands as he laughed. Before Daryl could furiously ask why Sam was laughing, Merle started to chuckle. Daryl watched as Merle shook his head, still chuckling.
"You're even dumber than I though." Merle finally said, running a hand across his bald head.
"What?" Daryl asked, his voice raised in anger and confusion.
"Emma's not getting married." Sam answered Daryl, his laughter subsiding. "Clarke asked her to marry him at the fall gathering and she turned him down."
"No." Daryl shook his head. "You're wrong."
"Emma told me all about it on Thanksgiving." Sam refuted Daryl's denial quickly.
"I think you're mistaken, little brother." Merle spoke up before Daryl could. "There's nothing you can do about it now, though. Emma took another job in town."
"What makes you think I'd want to do anything about it?" Daryl snapped. "So she isn't getting married? So what? I don't care. I don't give a shit."
"Well, then you're an idiot!" Sam exclaimed out of frustration.
Daryl stood up from the table to teach Sam a lesson, but Merle leapt up and threw his arms out in both directions.
"All right! That's it!" Merle thundered.
Daryl and Sam both stood on opposite sides of the table, surprised by Merle's sudden outburst.
"I ain't going to tolerate this bickering anymore." Merle lowered his voice, but was still stern as he spoke to both men. "Sam, Daryl made his decision. Get over it. Move on."
Merle turned to Daryl.
"Daryl, you ain't going to come back from your vacation and stir shit up here. You best get it together and quit starting trouble, or I'm gonna knock your lights out."
Daryl stormed out of his brother's house to go to his own. He hadn't been there in months. That was the only place he wanted to be. He could be alone there.
After lighting enough lanterns so that he could see, Daryl started a fire to warm the place up. He held his hands near the flames as he waited for the heat to fill the house. As he was crouched in front of the fire, he caught sight of something leaning against his bed. Curious, Daryl left the fire to inspect the burlap sack tied shut with a ribbon. A note was attached to the sack. Daryl took the note to the closest lantern so that he could read it.
This was Emma's Christmas gift to you.
Sam
Daryl scoffed. Even in his own house, he couldn't escape the little shit. Daryl took the note to the fire and threw it in. He watched it become ash within the flames. If it was Emma's Christmas gift to him, Daryl just wouldn't open it. He would let it rot inside of that burlap sack. Instead of opening the present, Daryl sat down on his bed and smoked his pipe. As he smoked, he thought about supper and the information he had learned at the table. So, he had been wrong about Emma getting married. What did that matter? He must not have cared for her that much if only a few months at the cabin had been enough to get her out of his mind. Besides, if Emma had left and taken a job in town, she must not have cared for him as much as Sam seemed to think. If she truly cared for Daryl, she would have stayed.
Daryl's leg brushed the burlap sack. He could feel that the contents of the bag were hard and sturdy. Daryl couldn't help but feel curious about what Emma had gotten him. As Daryl thought about it, he chuckled to himself. Emma had probably gotten Daryl some silly trinket that he would never use. She had probably bought him something that he would hate. If they never cared for each other, how could Emma have known Daryl well enough to choose something he would need, or want, or love? Daryl had to open the sack to see just what idiotic item Emma had chosen to give him for Christmas. It would make for a good laugh. So, Daryl untied the ribbon and opened the bag to reveal the object inside.
Inside of the sack was a brand new crossbow. The vertical stock of the crossbow was constructed with an impressive piece of walnut. Daryl could tell by the grain. The horizontal prod was smooth and shiny as Daryl ran his hand over it. The cord held back by the catch was thick and braided. It was beautiful. Daryl held the crossbow in his lap, his eyes running back and forth over each and every detail. As his eyes moved over every inch of his new crossbow, his vision began to blur. Daryl realized in horror that there were tears in his eyes. He swiftly moved the crossbow off of his lap and went to the fire, putting his back to Emma's gift. The tears subsided with effort, but Daryl could feel knots tightening in the pit of his stomach.
Daryl couldn't let all of his progress be for nothing. Emma had gotten him a thoughtful gift, but that didn't mean she cared about him. He had gotten her horse back for her. Perhaps the crossbow was payback? Regardless, the fact still remained that Emma had gone away. She had returned to town while Daryl had been at the cabin. Why would she have gone if she cared about Daryl? She wouldn't have. She would have stayed on the farm. She would have been there when Daryl returned from the cabin.
Suddenly, Daryl felt exhausted. He blew out the lanterns and in the shadows, set the crossbow on the floor. Then, he got into bed. While sleep came easy for him, his sleep was restless with dreams of a blonde haired, green eyed woman.
"Friends" - Ryan Adams & The Cardinals [Emma thinks of the Dixon farm/Merle and Sam think of Emma]
"A Falling Through" - Ray LaMontagne [Daryl opens Emma's gift, thinks of Emma]