AN: Here we are, another chapter!
Thank you so much for your support! I'm so glad to be back working on some of these, and I'm so glad you're still interested in reading! I appreciate your support more than you know!
I hope you enjoy the chapter! If you do, please do let me know!
111
Daryl had a mind full of something. Carol could tell that much by the way his brow furrowed as he drove them back to their home. He had an angry look about him, but Carol knew him well enough, now, to know that he wasn't angry. It was just that Daryl, when he got a mind full of something, would sometimes look angry while he went about sorting out whatever it was that was on his mind.
The quiet, too, was another indication that he was busy with whatever it was that he was troubling over in his mind. Daryl wasn't exactly someone who felt the need to fill every minute with conversation, but he didn't dislike talking to Carol. He would share some stories with her about his life and, when he had something that he was working out, he would share that with her, in case she had some thoughts on how he ought to work it out.
Ed had never asked Carol's opinion on anything. And, when she'd shared her thoughts on most anything, he'd made it clear that he didn't appreciate her thinking that what she thought mattered at all.
Daryl didn't treat Carol at all like Ed did, though, and that was just one of the reasons that she loved Daryl like she did. Daryl made her feel like a person—valuable and all—and not just like a toy that he'd just as soon break as keep. Daryl made Carol feel like she was worth something, and it made her want to be worth a whole lot, just to please him as much as he pleased her.
It was also why she didn't fear the angry look on his face. If Ed had looked so troubled by the world around him, she would have been afraid for what was coming, because no matter what had angered Ed, it would be her that paid for his feelings. Daryl didn't strike Carol, though. Even when he got hurt and was angry at the world, he took his anger out on inanimate objects, and never on her, and she figured that wasn't so bad—everyone got angry, after all, and sometimes needed to get that anger out. She didn't have any kind of complaint about Daryl throwing a hammer off into the distance and then going to retrieve it when it had done him the cruelty of smashing his thumb while they were working and catching him by surprise. She would, if he wanted, even go fetch it for him while he cussed at his thumb—or she would tend his thumb for him, and then see to it that the hammer was fetched.
She didn't bother him while he was sorting out whatever was on his mind. Instead, she guarded the silence he seemed to need, and she just sat close to him on the seat of the wagon to remind him that she was there, whenever he might be ready to share his thoughts with her.
Just being beside him, knowing he wasn't angry with her while he chewed on some thought, was enough to make the ride enjoyable to Carol.
Back home, they tended to the things that couldn't be ignored. Their milk cow needed milking. The mules needed tending and feeding. There was water to be pumped, and wood to be carried inside. There were things that simply had to be done with each day that came to a close. Together, still guarding the comfortable silence, Carol and Daryl each took care of what they could and, with the chores done, Carol made a simple meal for the both of them.
Daryl ate his meal in silence, brow still furrowed, and only broke his silent contemplation to mumble a few words of thanks and appreciation to Carol for the food she'd put before him, before he returned to chewing over whatever it was that he was busy working on.
Carol knew better than to try to pull a thought out of Daryl's head before it was finished. Trying to pluck an unripe idea from the brain of a man like Daryl was like trying to pull an unripe apple from a tree. It took a whole lot of work just to get it, and once you got it, it wasn't very satisfying. It was best to let him work it out and, then, when he was ready to do so, he would share his ideas with Carol as freely as any tree would share its ripe apples.
Carol bathed first in the fancy tin tub that Daryl had acquired from the hardware. Together, they'd filled the tub with water they hauled—their well would hopefully get dug before the first hard freeze made the ground impossible to break—and she had to admit that it was nice to sit before the fire and wash away the day with hot water while Daryl, still chewing on his thoughts, but with a far less-considerable furrow between his brows, watched her absentmindedly.
She didn't mind Daryl watching her. She didn't mind that he had a strong liking to looking at her naked body. He was her husband—whether or not it was entirely a marriage the law would support—and she supposed it was his right to look at her all he wanted. Besides that, Carol found that she enjoyed the way he looked at her. His look was always approving, and sometimes it was so approving that it made her shiver a little just to know that a man like Daryl could look at her the way he did.
When she was done with her bath, Daryl took her place. Before she even dried, she added the last of the hot water from the pot to warm his bath. Then, she dried herself and wrapped herself in the bearskin from their pallet.
Daryl watched her idly as he scrubbed himself clean.
"You gonna get cold, you don't put nothin' on," he offered.
Carol smiled at his comment. The furrow, now, was fading even more and he seemed to be coming to an end of all the thinking. She hugged into the bearskin a little more.
The weather was cooling down, perhaps, especially when the sun was gone down, but the nights weren't the kind of cold that would cost anyone fingers and toes.
"I'm plenty warm," she said. "I was thinking you could warm me up more, when you get out from washing. If you don't have no objections to that, of course."
"You meanin'…?" He said, letting it trail off.
"Been a couple days since you mated me," Carol said. "Don't know if you realized. You don't want to take any risks of our mating coming undone, do you?"
She thought he blushed a little red, but it could also be irritation from the fact that, while they were in town, he'd gone to see the barber there—on Pete Watkins' declaration that there was a special price for the best shave a man ever had—and had let him scrape off his beard. Daryl usually scraped his own beard off, declaring that he didn't much care for another person putting a blade near his throat, but he'd decided to let the barber have a go at it this once. Carol figured the slight red to his face might have something to do with the scraping—if it wasn't just the idea of mating that made him run red.
"Why you ain't said nothing before?" Daryl asked. "I'da mated you yesterday, if I'da realized it was going too long."
"I think we caught it in time," Carol teased.
Daryl knew she was teasing—she'd told him time and time again that they couldn't undo their marriage by any lack of mating—but he was still a touch reluctant to believe her entirely. He still worried his original belief might be truth, and Carol didn't argue the point too much. She enjoyed when Daryl wanted to take her to his bed, so it suited her fine if he thought that there ought to be some regularity to their marital coupling.
When Daryl was done with the tub, he moved it near the door. He'd put the bathwater out in the morning. He dried off, and he came directly to Carol—visibly interested in the mating she'd promised.
Carol shucked off the bearskin and went into his arms without hesitation. She ran her fingers over the soft skin of his face, before she kissed him.
"Your face is smooth as mine," she said.
"Won't be by morning," he said.
"You gonna keep it scraped off?" She asked.
"Maybe just until the cold gets real bitin'," Daryl said. "Beard keeps a man's face protected."
"Then I want you to have one all the time," Carol said. "I don't want your face never to not be protected. It's my favorite face, Daryl, in the whole world."
The red on his cheeks was unmistakable, then, and so was the hunger in his kiss. Carol closed her eyes and kissed him back every bit as enthusiastically. Sometimes, it felt like her heart cried out for him. She felt an aching in her chest, and she could just imagine that's what it had to be—her heart crying out for his. She pulled him toward their pallet, and he came eagerly. He settled over her, and she closed her eyes and tipped her head back as he went tasting her skin, nipping her when it seemed he couldn't get enough of her with just his tongue.
Daryl always had a fondness for licking and biting her—just like some kind of animal or, maybe, like the savage that some might say he was—but she was willing to be consumed by him in every way. When he had seemed to taste his fill of her, he looked at her with an entirely different look than the one he'd worn all day—but it was a look that was no less overcome by something.
"Been too long," he said, giving some voice to his deeply held fears that she didn't quite know the truth about what might undo their marriage. "Wanna do it right."
Carol nodded, understanding what he wanted and, perhaps, needed. She rolled over, assuming the position that he most considered right, and he bit her shoulder as he entered her quickly and completely. She enjoyed the full feeling of him, and she enjoyed any way in which he seemed inclined to mate her. She let him choose what was best for him, knowing that she would always find it best, too. He found pleasure in pleasing her, and so he always seemed to make every mating something that would bring them both a happiness they could share. She wasn't wrong, this time, either, and she felt quite heavy and tired after their mating—not quite sleepy, but pleased with the fact that she had little else to do before she slept than to spend her time in Daryl's company.
Carol cleaned herself and Daryl both up with some of the cooled bathwater and a rag, and then Daryl pulled her under the bearskin with him to snuggle close on the pallet.
"I think you did that good enough that we're not at risk of coming unmated for days and days, Daryl," Carol said.
He nuzzled her neck, and she smiled and closed her eyes, enjoying the rooting that he sometimes liked so much after mating.
"Days an' days?" He said, his voice heavy and thick.
"We oughta mate more before that," Carol said, assuaging any concern he might have, "but you did real good. That's the kind that sticks a while."
He hummed next to her skin.
"Tried to find out who it was that hurt your friend like he done," Daryl offered. "Everyone said that there's been a few new faces that have passed through. Don't know exactly how many's come to stay and how many were just movin' on along somewhere. At the very least, I bought her a couple days to heal up."
Carol ran her fingers over Daryl's skin. She could feel the imperfections—evidence of cruelty done to him in his life by man and by nature, alike.
"Is that what you've been troublin' over all day?" Carol asked, sensing that he was finally ready to share his thoughts with her.
"Man who's run the mercantile up to now was the son of a man named Hershel Greene," Daryl said.
"Everybody's got a daddy or a pa of some sort," Carol mused. "You know this fellow or something, and that's why he's troubling you?"
"Met the daddy today," Daryl said. "Takin' over the runnin' of the store for the son to build his life up an' find him a Christian wife. That's what his wife said. She was at the store, too."
"And that's what you been troubling over?" Carol asked, stifling a yawn. "You wantin' a Christian wife or something? I've been to church, Daryl, and I was baptized when I was a little thing. If it's going to put your mind at ease, you ought to know that. I do believe in God and all that…and if it'll make you feel better, I suppose we can go to the church that's in town."
"I don't care about none of that," Daryl said evenly. "Did talk about the cows. He says he knows someone has a good herd built up. Said he'll go with me to make sure they cut me out good stock when I'm ready to buy."
"That's good, right? The cows—that's what we want. We'll grow the cows up and grow us some food up," Carol said. "And then we'll have us a whole life right here. You and me."
Daryl hummed, and Carol felt her stomach tighten. He hadn't told her everything yet, and he was clearly still working on some of it.
"Said we ought to wait until after the thaw," Daryl said. "First year and all—ought not to winter with the cows until we got us a herd established. Got our place the way we want it. I told him we'd wait until the thaw. Feels right to me."
"Then…it feels right to me, too," Carol assured him. "And we can just work on the everything else in the meantime. That's what you were thinking?" He hummed and nodded. "That's what I'm thinking, too," Carol added, making sure he knew that she approved of what he was thinking.
Daryl was quiet for a moment, and Carol snuggled in next to him a bit more. He hugged her close to him. She felt relaxed next to him. She felt safe. There was nothing in the world that could hurt her as long as she was tucked up under Daryl's arm under their blankets and bearskin.
The only thing that troubled her at all was thinking that he might be troubled by something.
"You got something still on your mind," Carol said. "And whether you're wanting one or you're not, I guess you do have a Christian wife of some sort, Daryl. And one thing I do remember hearing—I even heard it from Ed, because he said I didn't never do it—was that I was meant to be a helpmate to you. To help you in everything. And that means carrying things, Daryl…even the heavy ones in your mind. So—maybe you have to tell me what's troubling you. Maybe you're doing me a disservice, if you don't…and I don't know enough about it to be sure, but I would hate for you not letting me be a good wife to be some reason that we come unmated or something…"
"You just makin' that up," he mumbled.
"I might be," Carol said. "Or—I might not. Wouldn't you rather we didn't take the chance either way?"
Daryl hummed. He drew in an audible breath and let it out with a sigh as he thought things over. Finally, he seemed ready to talk a bit more.
"What I got to say is foolish, maybe," he said.
"I don't mind it," Carol said. He hummed is understanding of that.
"The old woman—her name was Jo, as her husband called her—sent that lil' bag of sugar for you."
"For your brother, you mean?" Carol asked with a laugh. "Your half-witted brother, Daryl?"
Daryl laughed quietly in response—the first laughter she'd heard from him since the morning, and Carol was happy to hear it.
"Stop," he said, raising up over her to face her. She smiled at him and puckered her lips so that he kissed her. "For you. Don't know how she knowed it, but she just did. Didn't even doubt for a minute that you was here—or there—wherever. Made like she would keep it secret, because it was what I wanted, but we had that secret between us."
"That ain't the end of the world," Carol said. "You're my husband, and I'm your wife. We're mated, right? And that's important to you, right?"
"The most important thing," Daryl said.
"So…so, she knows, then, that's all," Carol said.
"Just makes me afraid that—if people know about you, Carol, they're gonna be set on takin' you away from me," Daryl admitted.
Carol smiled at him and touched his face.
"Can't nobody take me away from you, Daryl," Carol said. "And if they tried? They might just find out they had hold of hell itself. Couldn't let me go fast enough for what'd happen to them."
Daryl laughed. It was a real laugh. His eyes glittered from it in the dim light of the fire and the little lamp they would blow out before sleeping.
"And that'd be before I ever even caught up to 'em," Daryl teased.
Without her fully understanding why, Carol's heart beat a bit faster and harder in her chest, but she liked Daryl's words. She liked them a lot. And they made her feel like he was right.
"Come on," she said, slipping her hand down to touch him and see if she could get him aching and hungry for her again. "If you ain't set on sleepin', why don't you come on and mate me this way—just to make sure it takes double good for the night."
He kissed her, and she bit his lip. Touching him, she could feel as his interest in her proposition grew.
"You ain't never gonna hear me say no," he said. "Not if I got the means."
"Oh—you've got the means," she said. "And then some."