**NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR – This story is starting off a bit lighthearted but future chapters will be gritty. I couldn't deny Merle a little fun in the beginning of this chapter…I've read that Rooker loves to rattle people by maintaining a stony demeanor, that is my inspiration for the beginning of this chapter.**
Chapter 2. The Farm (one week later)
You can't fool farm people, thought Maggie. Once the new group was settled on the farm, it became easy to see who were the workers and who were the slackers. While most people pulled their weight with good humor, it was easy to see that some (like Lori, Andrea, and Shane) would rather tell people what to do instead of doing it themselves. So, Maggie and Beth began to find the hardest, dirtiest jobs for those people to do. Like shearing sheep, for example. Hershel had a small flock of ewes that were remnants of a larger flock he had kept for the wool trade. There weren't enough sheep anymore to make a profit from the wool, but Hershel kept them because 'they'd be too tough to eat'. His family often teased him about his sheep, which affectionally became known around the county as 'Hershel's lawn ornaments.'
The morning was hot and it took about seven people to round up the errant ewes into the small pen. Maggie handed the cordless clippers to Andrea, who looked at her quizzically. "You'll need someone strong to hold the sheep, Shane, for example," instructed Maggie, tipping her head towards Shane. "Other than that it's pretty self-explanatory.' She and Beth quickly retreated around the corner of the barn and peered around the corner to watch the city people try to subdue the sheep. The honest truth was that the only time either of the Greene sisters had ever sheared a sheep was long ago in 4H class – Hershel always hired the regular shearing out to a mobile service. But Hershel's kids knew that these ewes were rarely handled and would be full of piss and vinegar once they were corralled.
It soon became clear that Andrea in particular had no idea how greasy and dirty sheep are, particularly in the hind end. Hershel came out of the house to see why his sheep were raising a ruckus, only to find his girls leaning against the barn, crying with laughter. At that particular moment, the grass-fed ewe being held by Shane and Andrea protested by bleating loudly and shooting a two-foot fountain of green diarrhea into the air. The ewe bucked out of its restraints, liberally spraying both handlers with greenish black mud clumps. When Andrea felt the wet mud in her hair, she screamed, grabbed the fence for support, and vomited profusely. This caused Maggie and Beth to collapse to the ground, laughing hysterically. Hershel looked down upon them. "Girls," he reprimanded sternly. Beth and Maggie tried to regain their composure and look repentant. Hershel turned to see Shane and Andrea yelling at each other, ankle deep in sheep doo. He sighed, laughed softly, and shook his head at his daughters, "Only five more minutes."
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Merle Dixon was no stranger to hard work. He had mechanical skills, and he had worked roofing jobs and some farm jobs in the past. What he liked about this farm job in particular was the view. Well, multiple views really, because there was no shortage of women to ogle here. Moving around doing physical labor on the farm allowed him to get an eyeful pretty much wherever he went. Within the first two weeks he had propositioned and received firm 'Fuck off's' from most of them. He laughed it off. Fuck it, if he couldn't rile up the womenfolk then he might as well be dead. And when he came upon the aftermath of sheep debacle, he saw a different side to one of those women in particular. He knew that the brunette was a hellcat, shit he wasn't surprised at her behavior. But the sister?! The blonde? Look at Little Miss, he mused, you can hardly get a word out of that one normally yet here she is cuttin' up like a drunken sailor. Maybe she's got a personality after all. He decided he'd find out. His chance came the next day when everyone pitched in to finish the shearing job. Beth was cleaning the clippers in the barn, frowning over the job, and he approached her silently. He intentionally startled her greeting her from the shadows, "Miss Beth." Beth jumped and wheeled around to see the rough biker appraising her. He was wearing faded jeans and one of Shawn's old shirts that was a size too small for Merle's broad chest. She could see every line of his chest and stomach, and the arms that bulged out of the short sleeves. Her heart hammered, first from the jump scare, then from the unabashedly male form in front of her.
"You startled me," she gasped. He could see that she had taken off the long-sleeved shirt that she had worn to wrestle the sheep, leaving her in a modest red tank top. Her delicate collarbones heaved to the rhythm of her breath, and a small golden pendant sparkled from a short gold necklace. He watched her widened eyes drop to his chest and thought, that's right, come to Merle. He stepped into a shaft of sunlight and greeted her unsmilingly, intentionally unnerving her. "I see you got the clippers out and I could use a cut myself," he said. "Do you mind?" She giggled nervously and gestured at the disassembled clippers. "They were really gross. All the lanolin builds up in the teeth and gums them up. Are you sure you want me to use these? I mean, on you?". Her voice sounded unnaturally high in her own ears and she was aware that she might be babbling. He stepped closer to her without breaking eye contact and answered, "Good enough," then sat on a battered step stool to wait for his haircut. He maintained grim silence, waiting for her reaction.
Beth fumbled with the clippers in the booming silence. She had done this at least one hundred times in the past, but today she just couldn't seem to keep the plates straight and get the screws in, and she accidentally knocked the solvent can off of the table. Finally, she got it all together and tested them. She turned to Merle who was sitting with military straightness on the stool. "How short do you want it?" she asked. "To the skin," he answered curtly. She grabbed a horse towel and dampened it in one of the water buckets, then rubbed it through his hair to wet it. It was when she fluffed through his hair with her fingers that she discovered Merle Dixon's dirty secret – this rough man had abundant brown curls. She indulged herself, exploring him. She knew that any girl would kill for this hair. "It's so pretty though," she mused out loud. "You should let it grow."
Merle closed his eyes, reveling in the feeling of her cool fingers running through his hair. He was already popping a boner from this sweet young thang coddling him. But, he reminded himself, he had a reputation to protect. "Learned to fight in first grade," he said. "Teacher said it was so purty she wanted to touch it. I had to punch two guys out later at recess. From then on, I shaved it." This elicited a giggle from Beth, who fluffed his hair curiously. She knew that couldn't bring herself shave it completely. She set the clippers to setting one and started on the sides, cutting close to the skin. She could see evidence of previous gouges and sloppy cuts, probably from him trying to do it himself. She evened everything out, gently moving the tips of his ears away with her fingers to avoid cutting him. She was surprised how soft his weathered skin was, and it fired her curiosity. She casually laid her free hand on his shoulder, ostensibly to steady her cuts, but also so she could feel the warmth of him coming through his T shirt. She was shocked at the solidness of him. When she was done with the sides, she switched the clippers to a higher setting to leave the hair longer, then moved in front of him to work on the top. When she dropped her eyes, she was terrified to find that his ice blue eyes were blazing into hers. She started then directed her gaze back up to his hair, which she left just long enough to show the hint of a curl.
Merle decided that it was just about time to have some real fun. Underneath all the farm muck this Bible girl was a fucking knockout. Not like his usual fare, he usually liked them bawdy, drunk, and curvy. This one was lithe, delicate…they type that had tight little titties that barely filled a bra cup. Fuck she wasn't wearing a bra now, he could see the buds of her nipples poking against her tank top as she nervously moved around him. Damn, what I'd do for a taste of those sweet nipples, he thought as his cock strained against its denim prison. She ain't been touched, that's for sure, and as long as she's home with her family she's determined to stay that way. Let's wind her up a little bit, get her thinkin' bout all the nasty things he'd love to do to her.
Beth couldn't think of any way to extend the haircut any longer. She crouched in front of him, her deep blue eyes intently studying the job she had done. "Just checking to make sure it's even", she said. Merle cleared his throat briefly and answered, "Makes me wonder if the saying is true." Beth swept an errant clump of hair away and absently asked, "What saying?" Merle answered, "Flat as a board, easy to nail." Beth, confused, dropped her eyes to his face to see that his was looking straight down the gap in the front of her tank top. She stood up, shocked, and dropped the clippers on the table as her eyes filled with tears. "How…how could you say that to me?" she stammered. She'd never forget the look of amusement on his face as he answered, "Just curious, sugar. More than a mouthful's a waste in my book." The tears in her eyes blinded her as she angrily retreated from the barn, his hoarse laughter in her ears. She was embarrassed and angry and hurt. No one ever talked to her that way before! She stalked towards the house, where she was going to hole herself up in her room to cry. But halfway there, anger took over. This was her family's land, and he was only here out of her father's sense of charity. In fact, it was charity that Beth was extending to Merle to do the haircut in the first place. Her fists balled up and she turned around. She was a Greene, this was her land, and she was going to kick him right off of it.
She stalked back to the barn and walked through the open door, where she got the shock of her life. Merle was standing up, T shirt pulled up and pants to his knees, vigorously stroking his purple headed cock. Beth's mouth dropped open and she uncertainly moved into a shadowed horse stall to remain undetected. She ought to kick him right out of their barn, but he was obviously having a private moment, would that be polite? Should she wait and come back later? But she was curious….she grew up on a farm and knew about the mechanics of sex but she'd never seen a grown man….doing….well, what was it like?
Merle felt the orgasm overtake him, fuck he was going to cum. He positioned his cock over her discarded shirt and let himself go, groaning with pleasure. He grabbed the table to steady himself while he caught his breath, then he used her shirt to wipe himself off. He reassembled all his clothes and started to walk out, but not before pausing in front of the horse stall where Beth thought she was hidden. "Next time you can give me a hand," he remarked gruffly, then he strode out into the sunshine.
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Beth lay in her bed that night, humiliated and furious, embroiled in her own thoughts. Thoughts about Merle Dixon. What a horrible man! I was just following God's law and he...he...was horrible! Hopefully these people will leave soon so I can leave the house without dying of embarrassment, she thought. She frowned when she considered her sister's relationship with one of the newcomers. Maggie doesn't want them to leave at all, she's pretty stuck on that Glenn guy. And I know that she's totally having sex with him behind Daddy's back, it's written all over her face and they disappear together all the time. I mean, Glenn's nice but….. Maggie should be waiting for marriage!
She wondered if Glenn's... thing... was as big as Merle's. How does Maggie fit it in her? She said the first time she had sex it hurt but after it felt good. In fact, she told me that a big one feels really good. Merle's is awfully big. I wonder what it would feel like?
She pounded her fist onto the coverlet that Mama had tatted for her. Gross! Merle! He's blasphemous and crude and dresses in black and rides a motorcycle and struts around intimidating everybody with his big shoulders and horrible mouth.
Those shoulders had been firm and warm and bunched up under her hands, a world different from the soft body of her father and the bony shoulders of her boyfriend Jimmy (wherever he was). She shook her head, trying to lose the memory of how Merle had felt under her hands. She worked up her ire to maintain her anger. And that horrible mouth of his! Always saying inappropriate things, making her blush and stammer.
She thought about Merle's mouth. Most of the time it was set in a grim line but when it curved up he was handsome. His was way different than Jimmy's soft mouth with it's dusting of peach fuzz on. Merle had a man's hard mouth. I hope he doesn't kiss his mother with that dirty mouth she thought haughtily.
Her thoughts wandered. Still, I wonder what that mouth feels like? With the stubble around it...would it tickle? It looks more…bristly. Would he kiss her gently or would he hurt her?
Ew, gross! I'm crushing on Merle! Time to pray, that's it. Prayer solves everything. Dear Father, thank you for the blessings of today, for my family, for the food on our table and roof over our heads. Thank you for blessing me with a healthy body...
Her prayer stopped as her hands slid up over her belly and rested on her breasts. Her nipples rose under her fingers. She wondered if they had been this hard when he was looking at them. Did he like them? She squeezed the buds softly and felt a stirring in her abdomen. Would it feel just as good if Merle did it? He's got big, rough hands, would it hurt? She'd let Jimmy tongue kiss her lots of times but definitely didn't let him touch her tits or ass. Omg, I never use those horrible words. Horrible words like Merle uses!
I'm going to use nice words. Breasts and bottom. There, that's better. Enough of this silliness, I'm going to sleep. Merle's too old for me anyway. Old! And experienced. He looked at me like a wolf stalking a rabbit. Jimmy never looks at me that way because he's a nice boy. Very inexperienced just like the Lord intended. Timid maybe. He wouldn't have a clue how to touch me!_
Beth picked up the shirt that she had recovered from the barn. She touched the white stain on it, then curiously sniffed it. It didn't smell bad, just different than anything else. Hesitantly, she touched her tongue onto it. Salty. She tossed and turned for a couple hours. She was restless there was a gnawing at her gut that she never felt before. Eventually she fell into a fitful sleep.
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Merle took a swig of bourbon and leaned against his bike. The night air was sweet with summer smells and the cicadas were making a racket. The night was too pretty to go to bed yet. Wish I had some smokes. Better yet, it'd be real nice to head out to that pond, throw a blanket on the dock, pull that sweet thang's pants off and show her the stars.
He threw his head back and indulged in a laugh. He didn't know what was funnier, how mad she was over his comment or how embarrassed she probably was when he called her out while she was spying on him. Pious god-fearin gal, I didn't think any of them existed anymore. Bet she never been off this farm for nothin' but school and grocery shoppin'. And she definitely ain't never seen nothin'. Well, not til today. Too bad she saw the best first, now she'll be disappointed with anybody else.
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The next morning, he woke up with a medium strength hangover and popped some ibuprofen he stole out of the camper the other day when no one was looking. He exited his tent and made his way to Daryl, who was at the camper talking with Dale. "We need to scout the woods close to here, take out any walkers that are hangin' around," said Daryl to Merle. "Awright," said Merle with some enthusiasm. Any day killin' was a good day.
Daryl looked up to the farmhouse to see Beth and Patti coming out with coffee and some kind of biscuits. Everyone congregated around a central picnic table to receive breakfast except for Merle and Daryl who usually stood away from the group. Merle hazarded a glance at Beth. She was wearing cutoff shorts and cowboy boots and a tank top with a row of small buttons and a little bow at the top. Her hair was tied back with a thin strip of ribbon that matched her tank top. She looked so fucking innocent and hot that he wanted to eat her. She was smiling at Shane who was hamming it up good for her, telling her how good her cooking was.
Beth walked back to the house and returned with an armload of coffee cups. She poured three cups of coffee then let the rest of the group demolish the pot. She carefully walked the two cups over to Rick and Shane and handed them off. She smiled politely at everyone but didn't make eye contact with Merle. Then she walked the third to the RV for Dale. She told Dale that there were biscuits and honey butter at the picnic table and to please pass it on to Daryl and Merle. Then she walked back to the house, her back straight and her chin up.
When she got in the house she ran upstairs to her bedroom and cried on her bed. At least I didn't do anything stupid like blush or trip. And why did I honestly care what I wore? She had snuck a look at Merle's back as she walked away and for some reason it felt like he was watching her even though she was behind him. It rattled her and she tried to forget how good his butt and shoulders looked in his worn cargo pants and black wife beater. She lay on her bed and tried to analyze the wanting feeling inside her then in frustration she decided that it was just easier to cry.
She heard knocking at the door and walked down the stairs. She dabbed her eyes and wiped her nose with her shirt then opened the door. Merle was standing on porch with an armful of used coffee mugs. "Well mornin' sugar," he said. "Thought I'd save ya a trip." She was sure she was going to have a heart attack and she wiped her nose self-consciously. "Thanks," she mumbled. "Come in, you can put them in the sink."
He was studying her face. "Y'awright?" he asked. She snapped out of her stupor. "Yeah," she said trying her best to put on a fake smile. She closed the door behind him and walked him to the kitchen. He put the cups in the sink one by one, biding his time then he leaned against the counter facing her with his arms crossed. The sunlight streaked into the window where she stood. It illuminated her blond hair and the pendant that dangled just above the buttons of her tank top. Gold earrings shone in her ears and her large eyes appeared violet in her heart-shaped face. Merle took a long momet to examine her. Pretty little thing, almost shit herself when she saw me. Cryin' too, he thought. This may be too easy.
"Where's yer family?" he asked. She answered him honestly before she caught herself. "Daddy's feeding the horses and cattle, Maggie's with Glenn somewhere and Patti's in the garden. I'm supposed to be feeding the chickens." Stupid, she thought. You just told him you're alone. You need to make conversation. She met his eyes then dropped them to his chest. "What are you all doing today?" she asked.
He pushed himself away from the counter and stood disturbingly close to her. "Little bit a this," he said tipping her chin up with his finger. "Little bit a that," he drawled as his face moved down to hers. He caught her in a long kiss, first brushing her lips with his then deepening it by pressing more firmly and opening her mouth. At the end he introduced the tip of his tongue slowly and was rewarded by a gasp of surprise and a tremble from his quarry. He broke it off slowly and looked at her. She was flushed and her eyes were dazed and wanting. "Oh," she whispered. The corners of his lips turned up a fraction of an inch and he said in a gravelly voice, "Thought I'd come get me somethin' sweet first."
He backed away from her and walked to the front door, letting himself out. "Oh," she said, touching her suddenly very lonely lips.