A/N Thanks so much everyone! Guess what? It's bath time.
The Bath
Shit, this isn't going to be easy, it's probably not safe either and…and well shit...he's dreading it. He gets it though. She doesn't seem like the kind of woman who ever went a week without a bath, and it wouldn't even be a big deal if she could just go in the bathroom and take a damn shower, but no, dammit, this ain't gonna be that easy.
His mind wanders a little, her blonde hair is probably real pretty when it's clean and combed, but man, you couldn't tell that right now. It's a snarled mess. His comb would never be able to make it through those tangles, and she doesn't have a comb or a brush with her. Then he kind of smiles, just a little bit, Jack has a real nice hair brush.
He worried when he bought the thing that it might not work on Jack's long coat, but it does and she'll probably appreciate that besides the metal bristles on one side, it's got natural bristles on the other.
Let's see though, first things first. He gets two big pots of water heating over his outdoor fire, then goes to the tool shed and gets into the plastic bucket where he keeps Jack's things. He takes the brush, gives it a good scrubbing and when he's satisfied it's clean, he takes it in to her, "I'm gettin' everything ready so you can take a shower. I thought ya might wanna try n comb your hair first."
Oh my goodness, it's his soft side showing. He really can be thoughtful sometimes. She takes the brush from his hand, looks at it and questions, "Oh my gawd, is this Jack's?"
"Yeah, it's the only hairbrush we got around here. I scrubbed it good though."
What can she do? It's Jack's brush or nothing, and she desperately wants to wash her hair. "Thank you for doing that," then she looks at Jack and says, "Thank you for sharing. I'm pretty sure your hair is cleaner than mine," the dog's tail begins to wag because Jack just likes it when she talks to him.
Daryl's already out the door when Beth starts trying to get the snarls out of her hair, even resorting to using the metal bristles. It's frustrating, it's painful, and she lets Jack know, "When I get home I'll have to deep condition my hair every day for a month."
There's an old wood chair in his outdoor kitchen and Daryl grabs that, carries it to the bathroom and sets it in the shower. Shit, it's cold in that damn bathroom. Well hell, it is almost four in the afternoon and the sun's already fading fast. Why wouldn't it be cold?
He hates to waste the gas, but shit, she's got no meat on her bones and she's weak as a kitten, and as cold as that damn shower stall is, she'll freeze to death before she gets halfway done. On that thought he gets the generator from the shop, rolls it over near the bathroom and fires it up. He runs a cord to a small space heater setting it right in front of the shower stall and turns it on full blast. That ought to take the chill off.
His next concern is the water. On a day like this it'll probably be tepid at best. It's just a gravity fed shower that he built to be good enough for him. He constructed an elevated reservoir for his water and painted the tank black to attract as much heat as possible. In the summer he usually gets nice warm water. It won't be that way today.
He does have an auxiliary method for heating it, there's a propane water heater right in the shower plumbing, but he's never used it for himself. Like the gas, he doesn't like using the propane unless it's absolutely necessary, but shit, he can't expect the woman to shower in cold water. Besides, he doesn't need her getting sick.
Let's see now. He's got soap and shampoo in there, he should put that close to the chair where she can reach it, and what else? Oh, yeah, she probably needs a wash rag, and a towel too.
He goes to the fire and gets the two pots of hot water, brings them inside the bathroom and sets them on the rug, and shit, finally, it's ready for her. Fuck him, he's never gone to all this trouble for his own shower. Yeah, but she's different, a whole lot more delicate than him, and she's hurt.
By the time he returns to the cabin she's got her hair combed out, and this time he can't hold back a grin. Man, this woman has a lot of hair and right now it's bushy as hell. He asks, "Ya ready for a shower?"
"I am, and I really want one, but how the heck is that going to work? I can't even stand up."
He nods, "I think I got it figured," he grabs a clean Henley shirt from the dresser drawer, throws it over his arm, and without another word he picks her up in his arms, turns to the dog and says, "wait here Jack," the dog let's out a soft cry of disappointment, but obediently lays back down by the fire.
Daryl carries her into the shower, sets her on the chair and that's when he realizes his miscalculation. He didn't think about the fact that once she was sitting in the chair, she wouldn't be able to reach the handle to turn the water on, or the handheld shower head. Shit.
He quickly comes up with an alternate plan. "Okay, we got a problem, you can't stand on your own so I got ya this chair for the shower. The trouble is, when you're sittin' ya can't reach the handle for the water."
She's going to be so disappointed if she can't shower and wash her hair, and he hears that in her voice when she asks him, "So now what Daryl? I really need a shower."
"Okay, well here's the plan. You sit there in the chair, still wearin' my shirt. You can pull your arms inside it, or however you wanna work it so you can wash up without takin' it off and...well...and showin' yourself. I turn the water on and get ya get all wet, then turn it off and get the hell outta here while you get all washed up and whatnot. Ya just holler for me when you're done and I come and release more water ta rinse ya off. Ya don't have ta worry that I'll see anythin' cuz you're wearing my shirt."
It's at this point they're both very close to dying of embarrassment, but Daryl soldiers on.
"The last thing we'll do is wash your hair. I got the hot water to pour on it, then I hand ya the shampoo, you scrub away or whatever, then I rinse the shampoo out with the other bucket a water. Done. Whaddya think?"
"I think it could work, and gosh, thanks."
"Okay then, let's get it done, I'm about ready for dinner."
He hands her the bar of soap and the washcloth, then asks, "Are ya ready for the water now?"
"Yes." She closes her eyes.
He grabs the handheld shower head and points it so it won't hit either of them when he first turns it on, then turns the handle to release the water. It's awkward as hell when he holds it over her and sprays her with it. He's just trying to be as careful as he can, while also desperately trying not to think about what he's doing. He turns the water off and says, "Okay, I'ma step out now and let ya have some privacy while ya wash up. Holler when ya need me."
"Wait Daryl, let me soap up my face, then you turn the water back on so I can rinse the soap off really quick. Okay?"
"Yeah, okay." Thank God she's moving fast.
As soon as he steps out of the shower he leans his back against the bathroom wall, breathes out all the air he's been holding in, then takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself. Shit, it started out just being pretty embarrassing, then it became real...well something else. What he didn't think about was, once the water hit her, and that thin old shirt got drenched, it wouldn't be covering up anything at all.
He didn't miss any of her curves, or those little pink bumps either. Yeah, he could tell she was cold. Shit.
It's been a long time since Daryl's been with a woman, and he's managed to pretty much convince himself he never needed that kind of thing in his life again. It's not like there's ever been with a woman he felt close to anyway. No, nothing like that. His love life has amounted to no love at all. It was always just a couple of strangers having sex for the sake of having sex, and that shit's only satisfying in one way. After those quick encounters, once he caught his breath again, he never felt anything except kind of down.
Now though, shit, what he just saw has him thinking about things he has no business thinking about. Not with this woman. He's been around enough to know she isn't the type to go for a guy like him. Pfft, never going to happen.
"Daryl?"
"Yeah, comin'" Oh fuck him.
"I think I did as good as I can do." She sounds both shy and exhausted.
He does his best to sound matter of fact. Yeah right asshole, like this is no big deal. Shit, "Okay, lemme wash the soap off." She closes her eyes, he releases the water and starts to wash her off while trying his best not to look. He shouldn't be looking, but fuck, he can't help glancing a time or two.
As soon as the soap is off he forces himself to stop, crank the water off and say, "Okay, let's get that hair washed and we're done." Yeah, like he does this shit every day and he isn't turned on by what he's been seeing. And shit, he's half soaked himself.
He does his best to shake off those feelings he's having and to not look any further than her hair as she leans her head back and he pours the warm water over it. He hands her the shampoo bottle, waits while she takes what she needs, then takes it from her and sets it in the caddy. As she washing her hair she asks, "I don't suppose you have conditioner?"
"No, but I got some lanolin. I use it on Jack's coat sometimes. It should work for your hair, if ya don't use too much. A little of that shit goes a long way. I can get it for ya when we get back ta the house."
Seriously? Well, it will be better than having fuzz head, "Oh, okay, great, why not, me and Jack use a lot of the same beauty products. I'll give it a try."
She seems like she's mad or something and he's not sure what to say, so he just shrugs, "That's all I got."
Who's grouchy now Beth? He just went to a lot of hassle to let you have a shower. She's being so ungrateful, "Don't be sorry, you're being very kind. You've gone way above and beyond anything I could have expected and I appreciate it very much. I'm just crabby and tired and cold."
Yeah well, he's anxious to get this done, but he can't help feeling bad for her, and shit…well just shit.
He slowly pours the warm water over her hair to get the shampoo out, then adds to both of their embarrassment when he suggests, "I'ma turn around now, you take the shirt off n just throw it on the shower floor, then I'll hand ya the towel, behind my back ya know, so I can't see. Then when you're done dryin' off, holler and I got a clean shirt for ya, K?"
"Yes, okay." Thank God this is almost over. She dries off, he hands her the shirt, and she tires to sound as grateful as she truly is, "Thanks Daryl, I'm dressed now."
He's run out of things to say, he just turns around, picks her up in his arms and carries her to the cabin. He sets her down in the easy chair and covers her with a blanket, and while he's adding another log to the fire Jack comes over and lays his chin in her lap, she begins to stroke the dogs head, then Daryl stands and says, "I'll go get that stuff for ya, then I'm bringin' dinner in. I'm about half-starved."
"Okay Daryl and thank you again. I feel so much better now that I'm clean and it's so warm and cozy by the fire. I really appreciate everything you've done."
He shrugs and he's out the door, and Beth just smiles. She gets him. She knows her gratitude just embarrassed the heck out of him.
He brings her the lanolin, says, "I'ma get our dinner now," and he's gone again.
She puts a little of the lanolin in her hair, just enough. Now that it's finally clean she doesn't want it to feel waxy. She gets it all combed and just about the time Daryl is walking in with a platter of food in one hand and a small cookpot in the other, Beth is taking Jack's face in her hands and telling the dog, "Thank you for sharing your things with me Jack, you're a true friend."
Daryl fights a smile as he sets the platter of roast turkey and the pot on the table while muttering, "Yeah, you two are a real pair all right. Time ta eat."
He puts a bowl of food in front of the fire for Jack, strokes the dogs head and says, "There ya go boy, eat up. Ya been workin' so hard today layin' around with this lady, I'm sure ya built up an appetite." Whatever he said, Jack couldn't care-less, there's turkey and pan drippings mixed in with his kibble.
Beth's starving and moves the blanket off her lap like she's going to try and stand, but Daryl's there, "Don't start that shit again. I'll carry ya."
She thinks it's pretty silly, he could just give her a hand and she could hobble over there, but then she does kind of like the feeling when he picks her up in his arms and carries her to her chair.
"It looks and smells so good Daryl."
"Yeah, well the Dutch oven done all the work, I just put the turkey in it."
"Don't tell me it was easy because I know better. You harvested this turkey, cleaned and plucked it, and plucking a bird is a giant pain, and then you cooked it. So, yum, I can't wait."
Daryl's uncomfortable with the praise, she knew he would be but maybe he ought to learn how to accept a compliment or two. She is curious about what's in the pan, "These look like home canned peas and carrots."
"Yeah, they are."
Now she suspects there must have been a woman here in the not so distant past, and she decides to try and find out in a subtle way, "So, who does your canning for you?"
"Daryl Dixon. Now eat."
She's impressed as she smiles and asks, "Really Daryl? You know how to can?"
"Yep, I had ta learn ta do a lot of things if I'm gonna live up here away from the Piggly Wiggly."
"Who taught you?" She can't imagine Daryl hanging out in the kitchen learning to can.
"It's kind of a long story."
"That's okay, I'm not going anywhere and I love mealtime conversation. When you live alone you really miss that."
So, there's no husband or boyfriend at home, huh. What? Like that makes any difference?
While they eat the fresh roast turkey and enjoy the home canned vegetables, he does it. Why? Who knows? It's like that first time he sat with the Horvath's, he feels he can be open with her, share with her. He doesn't recall ever having had that feeling with others, not even Merle. Shit, Merle would make a damn joke out of it.
So he does it, he tells her the whole story of the trip to the library, meeting Dale and Erma and the late fall and winter months he spent with them learning how to can food, salt fish, build a bathroom in the mountains, and so much more.
"My gosh Daryl, that's such a wonderful story. They sound like really special people, and I'm so sorry about what happened with Erma. I'm sure you miss them."
It's obvious he's uncomfortable as he shrugs and bites at his lower lip, "Yeah, it was rough. I saw Dale last winter, he found me at the Mountain Inn. He was in town for a few days, said he was thinking about selling the house and said if there was anythin' I wanted I should take it." Daryl smiled and added, "He looked at me, slapped my back and said, 'what am I gonna do with all this shit, kid?'"
He slides his chair back from the table, and says, "Lemme get dessert."
"Dessert? Gosh, I thought I was full, but dessert sounds tempting."
He returns to the table with two tin bowls, two spoons and a quart jar of peaches, "I canned em this summer. I added cinnamon sticks to a couple of the jars. Let's see if it's any good."
"I'm sure they're going to be delicious." Beth takes a bite and smiles, "I think you hit on the perfect touch. Next time I do some canning I'm going to be brave and experiment a bit."
"You can?"
"Well I haven't since I moved off the farm, but I grew up helping Mama can, so yes, I know what I'm doing, but our recipes never changed. Tradition I guess."
"Wow, a farm huh? Do ya know anything about greenhouses and stuff?"
"Yes, some. Mama liked growing hothouse tomatoes and lettuces."
"I'ma try and grow some a my own veg come spring, up here though, it don't get warm enough for long enough to grow most things, so I's thinkin' about a greenhouse. With all that good dirt in the planter boxes and the warmth in the greenhouse, I oughta get enough growing time to get a good crop of tomatoes, and like you said, some lettuce."
She nods, "I think even without the greenhouse you could grow some root vegetables up here too, like potatoes. Potatoes don't mind the altitude, you just have to work the soil good ahead of planting, and since it gets so cold up here it would be a good idea to wait until about mid-May or so to plant."
"Huh, really? Anything else might grow up this high?"
"Well, I think you could grow carrots, onions and radishes. I can't say for sure, but I think in the greenhouse you could grow some salad cucumbers and pickling ones too. It's mostly about preparing to plant, getting the soil ready and making sure if it's rocky like this mountain soil tends to be you really work at getting to that good earth. Then of course, you do need the warmth. Up this high the growing season has go to be short, but the greenhouse will help you extend it."
"Could ya maybe write it down in my book, ya know, like instructions."
"You keep a book for crops?"
"Well it ain't just for that, and it ain't like a real book, it's a notebook and I got information about alotta stuff in it."
"Sure, I'd love to see it."
It's as if he suddenly realizes how long they've talked and all he's shared. He shouldn't do that. No one wants to hear about all that shit, she was just being nice, "Yeah, well maybe later. Right now I'ma clear up the dinner stuff, stoke up the fire, and you're gonna rest."
Hmm, it seems the conversation is over, "I could help."
"Like hell, now c'mon. You can sit in my chair, oh, and take your dog with ya." The only thing that keeps her from laughing is, she thinks maybe he really is cranky about her and the dog. No. He couldn't be. He's just having fun with that. There's no doubt in Beth's mind, and she's sure there's no doubt in Daryl's, he's the alpha male and that dog is all his. Then she smiles, that's true, but she and Jack are besties.
She watches him clean up the mess, there's not much really, and that's when he says, "I'ma clean the dutch oven outside, then put the rest of this bird in the root cellar ta keep it cold. Tomorrow I'll be makin' a soup out of it. I'm gonna be canning that and a shit ton of deer meat. Gonna butcher the beast tomorrow." Shit, why is he suddenly telling her every fucking detail of his day.
She'd swear he's a little pink when he adds, "I'll be back in after I wash all this shit up. Then I'ma stoke the fire, sit down and take a load off, and while I do that, you're gonna tell me who the fuck you are and how the fuck you ended up in a leg-hold trap a million miles from nowhere."
"Okay." Gee, his tone changed quickly, well he's probably as tired as she is. Her eyes close and they don't open again until the door on the woodstove squeaks and she watches him add a couple of logs, "You're back."
"Yep, and ready ta hear your story. Just gonna get me a drink, ya want one?"
"What kind of drink?"
"Grade A Moonshine, I got a lifetime supply a that shit."
"Really? I've never had moonshine. I've had wine, and a beer once, but I've never even had store bought liquor."
"So, ya want some?"
"Sure, I'll give it a try, it's not like I have to drive home tonight."
He softly snorts a chuckle, "Yeah, well, maybe I'll get lit. It's been a while. Lemme get it."
He walks a few feet to the kitchen and reaches for the quart jar on the upper shelve. It's full of clear liquid. She's always heard moonshine is strong, even harsh, "I hear you can go blind drinking that stuff."
"Ya ain't gotta worry about that with this shit. There were two things my Dad knew how ta do right, make Grade A shine was one of em."
"What was the other?"
He shrugs, "Be a Grade A bastard."
"Oh, um, okay, let's have a drink." What else do you say to a remark like that?
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A/N They both made it through bath time, and now it's time for a little drink. Please leave a comment. The chapter photo is on my tumblr blogs gneebee and bethylmethbrick please take a look. I'll be back next Thursday with more of The Man on The Mountain, and I hope you'll be here too. Until then remember, I love ya large! xo gneebee