A/N Thank you all very much! Merle's gone down the mountain to pick up Frankie and take the ladies to the prison ( that doesn't sound good, does it?). Let's see how that works out.
Winter's Coming
Once inside the cabin he sets her on her down and for the longest time nothing is said, they simply hug each other, while Jack lays at their feet.
Daryl can tell she's crying, and he's grateful that at least it's not that kind of crying she did the other night. This crying is soft and quiet, but he can feel the sadness and he understands it because, he's feeling it too. He's more broken up about Merle leaving than he thought he'd be.
Shit, he just got his brother back and now he's gone again.
Beth takes a half step back and asks, "Do you think he'll really come back Daryl?"
"I think he'll want to and if there's any way he can, he will. In the meantime, we got plenty of work to do," He's glad about that. Maybe if he stays busy working he won't feel as much. Humor might help too, "wouldn't that be just like Merle ta show back up when the work's all done?"
She's smiling but shaking her head no, "That's not fair Daryl. Merle works his buns off around here."
He nods and acknowledges, "I know he does, it's just sumthin' I always gotta give him shit about and he always goes along." He's smiling when he gently takes her face in his hands, kisses her forehead and says, "It don't matter right now though. He's gone, I'm here, and the wood ain't gonna chop itself."
"It seems like we have so much already."
"Yeah, it does. But that's just it, it seems that way. Shit Beth, we're already burnin' wood 24 hours a day and it ain't even winter yet. We got a lotta stoves ta feed too. We got the wood stove in our cabin, and the one in the bathroom. Merle's wood stove and the big oven in his house. We got the outside fire if we're using the dutch oven or we're cookin' a whole animal. And if Merle really does get a bathroom built, we'll have that other wood stove too."
She's a little stunned by the realization, "Wow, you're right, that's a lot Daryl. I'm sorry it's so much work for you."
"Ain't any more work than if I was goin' ta some job site every day, and at least I know this work is for us."
She smiles, how is he always so good? "Yes, but you don't get paid here."
"Sure I do. The job's well done and you're warm. That's my payment."
She smiles at him, "I love you too. Thank you."
Beth's glad he's thinking about Merle's house as much as he is theirs. It makes her feel better about the prospect of Merle coming home, and maybe he really will bring a woman. That has her mind wandering and she wonders what kind of woman Frankie is. Will she be the quiet type? Will she be the outdoor type? Will she be happy living this isolated life? Will her and Frankie get along? As much as she loves Daryl with all her heart, it sure would be nice to have another woman around to talk to.
If Frankie and Merle do come back, Beth feels confident it can all work out because, well gee, if Merle's willing to go back down the mountain to try and convince the woman to come with him, and he was willing to risk losing his family to do that, then Frankie must be really special. Right?
Her wandering mind is brought back to the present when Daryl says, "I'm plannin' ta chop wood the next couple days, and I'll get back to it a couple days after that. I wanna always keep as much as we can in the houses, and stack plenty real close ta the house, damn near right next to it. Merle's house too. We got no idea how deep the snow might get up here and we're gonna need ta be able ta get to that wood."
He points, "I'ma add ta our big stack over there too. I wanna have enough cut n stacked ta see us through the whole winter and early spring. I've got a fair start on it, but now that I've had a taste of how cold it can get, I know I ain't got nearly enough."
Beth is thinking to herself that living here is a lot like the farm, the work never ends, but she smiles because this is their life now and she's grateful to have it, "Gosh, we still have a lot to do. I have some things in mind I want to get done before real winter sets in too, but later this afternoon maybe I'll have time to start chopping some kindling."
"Yeah? Whadda you have planned for yourself?"
She shrugs, "When I went out to the cellar the other day we'd only had a little snow, but seeing it piled on the cellar doors made me think, if we had a big snowstorm there's a chance we wouldn't even be able to make it to the cellar, much-less get inside of it." The truth is brutal, but it is the truth, "It would be terrible to have all that good food so close, but starve to death because we can't get to it. So, my goal is to have at least a two-week supply of food in the house at all times."
Damn, she's smart. "Good idea. I shoulda thought of it."
She smiles and bumps his shoulder, "No one could think of, or plan for everything that might happen, but between the two of us we can come up with a lot. The first thing I'm going to have to do is rearrange some cabinets and try to find room for everything."
"Yeah, I didn't do a very good job a plannin' when I built this place. I guess I shoulda made it a lot bigger."
It's not the first time she's heard that from him. This time she puts her hand on her hip and sounds almost like she's scolding him, "And just how were you supposed to know that some wounded woman was going to end up moving in with you full time? How could you ever guess the world as we knew it had come to an end? You were stuck with the woman because you're way too good a person to send her home, and you were just adjusting to that when your brother showed up. Now that same brother is bringing a woman home. At least I hope he is. So no, you did everything just great including building this sweet little cabin. It was the world that changed."
It's his turn to bump her shoulder and look at her with love in his eyes when he says, "Well I'm glad you're here, and besides, a small house fulla people is a whole lot easier to keep warm."
He kisses her curls and says, "A'ight, I'm off ta chop," he turns to go, then stops and turns back, "Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Day after tomorrow, after I'm done choppin' for two days and my arms n shoulders are screamin' for me ta quit. I'ma get on the four wheeler and me and Jack are goin' turkey huntin'. Thanksgivin' is comin' ya know."
She throws her arms around his neck squealing, "Oh my gosh Daryl! You remembered! I wasn't even going to say anything because, well, I just thought maybe you wouldn't want to celebrate since Merle left and all."
"Wouldn't want to? Why wouldn't I wanna eat turkey n pie with you? Do I look like I ain't happy and thankful and all that shit?" She giggles and starts kissing him and telling him how much she loves him, and he has to force himself to back away, "Damn girl, if we keep this up I ain't ever gonna get that wood chopped."
00
Merle doesn't care for it, he never will, but at least the drive down the mountain is uneventful, well except for the fact he's anxious and in a hurry and he got going too fast about a third of the way down. That's when the ass end of the truck slipped out from under him.
He didn't roll it, he didn't flip, but he did get it a little stuck. He has a shovel with him and a little know-how about this stuff, it's not the first time he's been stuck, so after wasting 45 minutes or so on something that didn't have to happen, he's back on his way. Thank God he didn't break any jars in the case of shine he brought to trade. Which he has separated from the shine he brought for himself and the ladies to drink.
As for trouble with people, he hasn't seen any people or any walkers. That fact has made the trip a little nicer, but he knows it's short-lived. Once he gets closer to the trailhead it will be a different story.
Sure enough, he's about two miles from the trailhead when he sees them. Not walkers, the living. It's a man and a woman and they're just sitting in the dirt like they don't have any idea what to do with themselves next. There's a pup tent and a small fire going, and that's it.
He does something he shouldn't do, but shit, it's like some kind of strange feeling has come over him like he ought to help. He pulls the truck about 20 yards or so from them, rolls his window down and calls out, "Hey folks."
The man answers, "Hey."
The woman gets up quickly and pleads, "Do you have any food? Anything? I'll eat anything right now," Merle can tell by the look of her and her haunted eyes, she's not just saying that.
He's got a couple lunch sized bags of chips, two packs of cookies and a couple apples. He smiles, "Yeah, yeah. Here ya go." He doesn't hand the food to them, he just kind of tosses it out the window toward them, and he doesn't hang around. If he takes any more time here he might feel sorry for them and try to do something to help them. He can't. He'd be risking himself and his family. Besides, he has Frankie and the other ladies to help.
He doesn't look back at the pair. He keeps his eyes forward and gets his ass down to the paved road.
He encounters a couple of walkers but nothing he has to stop for. He easily maneuvers the pickup around them without even leaving the pavement.
He sees some people parked up ahead in the lot. It looks like they're rearranging something in the back of their van. Merle looks straight ahead, avoiding eye contact, and keeps driving and acting like he doesn't hear them calling out, "Hey, stop Mister. Stop a minute."
They don't look desperate and hungry like the people on the mountain. He's sure these two are more the type who would knock him out, or maybe even kill him, and take everything he has. Nope, not going to happen. Not this day, not any day.
Now that he's made it to the highway he sees a few more people on the road, and lots of walkers, but nothing and no one that gives him any trouble. He's starting to breathe a little easier and let himself feel excited to see the ladies, mostly Frankie, but his happiness takes a hit when he turns onto the street where the halfway house is. Fuck. There are about a dozen walkers clawing at the windows of the rehab house.
Merle stops right there in the middle of the street and cuts the engine, thinking of a plan as he watches the creatures desperately trying to gain entrance into the house and get at the women inside.
Let's see, twelve of them and one of him. Not good, but not the worst odds he's ever faced. Besides, he's got the upper hand. He's got four pistols, six knives, two shotguns, two rifles and a scatter gun. Him and Daryl have collected a lot of weapons off people and walkers, and he brought plenty of those with him. He knows a couple of the ladies can handle firearms and he came prepared for that. They're liable to need all the firepower they can muster on the trip to the prison.
He checks every weapon, they're all loaded and ready. He's got a knife in his ankle holster and one is his belt. He puts a pistol in the holster on his hip and another in the holster on his thigh, chooses the rifle over the shot gun, and nods his head. It's go time.
He steps from the vehicle and starts walking down the middle of the street, and when he gets to within 40 feet or so of the walkers he calls out. "Hey you fellas, are ya hungry?" Then lets out a loud shrill whistle and they're all immediately turning his way and moving toward him.
He looks through the rifle scope and starts firing left to right. Bullets are popping into walker foreheads and the undead are dropping, but the group is moving uncomfortably close to him and Merle runs backwards for a few yards to keep a good amount of space between himself and them.
Then he sees her come dashing out of the house. He'd know that red hair anywhere, but as happy as he is to see her, he wonders why the fuck Frankie's running toward the walkers. Then he hears the pistol fire twice and realizes she has a weapon. She's hit two of those grotesque things, and they go down. But they don't stay down. Those weren't kill shots. The walkers are back on their feet and heading right for his favorite redhead.
Merle's lost interest in his own safety as his full attention focuses on hers. He runs into the group of undead thrusting the knife blade into their heads, and Frankie mimics his actions with great big kitchen knife.
Merle has just put one down when he sees that the last of them has Frankie on the ground. The filthy bastard is about to bite her neck. Merle grabs the walker by it's thin, greasy hair, pulling it's head back and jabbing his knife squarely into the walker's forehead, then forcefully hurling it's body aside as he reaches for her, asking, "You okay Darlin'? Ya ain't bit are ya?"
"No, not bit. I'm a little banged up, and I'm sure I'll be sore, and boy oh boy, do I want to wash up." Then she smiles, "But mostly I'm just glad to see you, Merle Dixon. I didn't really think you'd come back."
"I said I would, didn't I?"
"You did, but men say a lot of things in the heat of the moment."
He laughs, "I know that's true, I'm guilty of that shit myself. But not with you Darlin', not with you. I meant all them things I said ta you and I plan ta prove it to ya."
Standing there in the middle of the street, surrounded by dead walkers and covered in blood, they hold each other close, whisper about the things they've missed, and kiss like they mean it.
00
Daryl's chopped wood all day and every muscle in his body is screaming at him. He shakes it off, it's not like him to stop working because he's tired, or even take a few minutes to relax and recover a little. He's too busy making plans for what he'll be doing next.
Beth's job of getting two weeks' worth of foods in the cabin turned out to be a far bigger undertaking than she thought it would be. It didn't seem like it would be a big deal, she just wanted to have a two week emergency supply of food for her and Daryl. Then she sat down and added up what that would mean. Holy cow, three meals a day for 14 days is 42 meals, multiply that by two people. That's a lot of meal planning and a lot of food to be stored in a very small space.
It took her all day to arrange the space in the cabin, get the food from the cellar to the house, and get it put away. What a pain in her rear end. She's got the kitchen cabinets stuffed, plus a drawer under their bed filled, there are vegetables, fruits, flour and sugar in the coolest darkest part of the cabin, the small closet. There are jars stacked behind the bookcase and on the floor in the bathroom. Right against that wall where the outdoor entrance used to be.
She can't really complain about the work, because every time she'd think about doing that, she'd look over at Daryl chopping wood for their long winter. Despite the cold weather, he was shirtless within the first hour. The way the muscles in his arms, shoulders, back and belly tighten and then relax, then tighten again as he swung the axe up over his head, and back down into a log, oh my gosh, he was sheer power and beauty.
The sight of him working so hard for them had her doing what she does so often, she said a little prayer of gratitude that this man found her, and that they're building a life together. Even if the whole world is a mess, what the two of them have feels solid as a rock.
She smiles to herself when she sets a basket on the little table next to his easy chair. It's filled with some of the snacks they found. Chips, cookie packages, nuts, granola bars and candy. Although the food she was bringing in was supposed to be for an emergency, she wants him to have his treats whenever he likes. He earns them.
What she thought would take her a morning to accomplish ended up taking her entire day, and now it's time to start getting dinner ready.
Daryl doesn't come in until the sun goes down. She can see he's tired and weary from the long day, but still he smiles at her and says, "You been workin' your little ass off today, haven't ya?"
She softly laughs and agrees, "Well it did seem like a lot, but I'm glad to have it done. We'll be ready if we have to be. And just for your information Mister Dixon, I don't think I've worked nearly as hard as you have today."
"Nah, see, you had ta do some thinking. I didn't have ta think at all. For me it's just muscle memory, no brains needed."
"Stop that Daryl. You have more brains than anyone I know."
He kisses her head and says, "Glad ya think so. I'ma go wash up."
He comes back from the bathroom and the table's ready, and when they sit to eat and he says, "One more day a that and then I get ta go have some fun with my dog. We haven't gone out ta play in while," he smiles at her and adds, "I ain't gonna lie, I'm damn excited about this Thanksgiving dinner. I usually have real good luck findin' turkeys when I hunt with Jack, I'd like ta get a couple a deer too. We're gonna be goin' through a lot more meat with Merle and his woman here."
Beth just nods in agreement, but inside she's hoping and praying Daryl's right and that Merle and Frankie come home.
The wood stove in the bathroom is a Godsend. They keep as many pots and kettles of water on it as will fit. It's wonderful to have that warm water for washing up, and it also adds some much needed humidity to the cold mountain air. Beth never thought she'd need to worry about the Georgia air being too dry.
Although they can't shower because the water is just too cold to even heat, at least Beth feels like she can wash up almost as well as she could with a shower, and Daryl has promised that after dinner tomorrow, he'll wash her hair for her. There's more than one reason she can't wait for that.
For now she finishes washing up, brushes her teeth and her hair, then hurries to their bed and under the covers, just as he's walking in the cabin door with Jack. "Hey now, don't fall asleep yet, I got some things I wanna talk to ya about."
Oh no, not trouble, "Okay, like what?"
He smiles as he walks closer, "Like how pretty ya are. I was thinkin' how you're especially pretty when you're naked under them covers. I think I need ta verify that, so hang on, I'll be back in a few minutes ta check."
She's trying not to laugh when she answers, "Okay, well hurry up in the bathroom so you can check, then I have to do my own checking. I remember seeing a cute little freckle on your butt and I want to get a better look at it."
"You'll have ta wrestle me if ya wanna see it."
"I can do that."
00
They kiss like it's been a while, but Merle pulls back and says, "C'mon, get in the truck, I'll pull it 'round behind the house." She gets in and he cautions, "We gotta get in the house. We don't want the livin' ta see us, and we damn sure don't want the dead findin' us."
Frankie's frustrated, there's been no time for her and Merle to talk and now the other women practically pounce on him when he walks through the back door. "Thank you, Merle, thank you for getting rid of those disgusting things."
"You're welcome, but Frankie had a hand in that too."
"Thank you Frankie."
Then Merle tells them, "I got a little booze in the pickup, why don't I go get that and whaddya say we all have a drink. I got sumthin' ta talk to y'all about."
They agree some liquor sounds like a fine idea, and over glasses of shine Merle tells the ladies his plan. At least the part about all of them driving to the prison where they can set up a permanent, safer home. "I mean, I guess it might be hard for ya to imagine a prison bein' a place a person would go on purpose, but if ya think about it, with everythin' that's goin' on out here it makes sense ta be in there. You'll be behind a big fence with razor wire, there are rooms and beds for everyone, and I hear the folks that took the place over are real nice. There's families and babies, all of it."
He knows he doesn't really have to sell it. The women are afraid, desperate and anxious to get somewhere safer. They know it's just a matter of time, and probably not much time, before a bunch of bad guys or a big herd of walkers invades the home and does things to them they don't want to think about. Still, Merle wants the women feel like the decision is theirs.
After a little talkin' and a question or two, they all agree the prison is their best bet, and while he tells them a little about the place and his time there, they all get a slight buzz on. Then he stands, "We're gonna be packed in that pickup like sardines, but I ain't lettin' anyone ride in the bed. Too dangerous with these dead fuckers everywhere. Ya gather up what you need ta take tonight, we're leavin' at first light, k?"
The women all agree and as they stand and start toward their rooms they thank Merle for coming back for them. But Frankie doesn't thank him. She reaches for his hand and they walk the short distance to her room.
"Sit." It's more of a command than a request as she points toward a desk chair and he takes a seat, while she seats herself on the edge of the bed. She looks him dead in the eye and asks, "So that's it, huh Merle? You're going to take us all to the prison while you go God knows where, wherever you've been living I guess, and just leave me again?"
He corrects her, "No, that ain't it. I was thinkin' I'd take all the other ladies there ta the prison and make sure they're safe n whatnot, then I'd take you home with me. If ya wanted ta go."
That lifts her spirits but she's trying to play it cool. "Maybe I want to. Where is home?"
"That's what I can't tell ya, and if ya decide ta go, ya can't ever leave. There's just the three of us there now, my brother, his woman, and me. We got shelter, we got food, we got plenty a water, but there ain't nuthin' around, well except what my brother calls natural beauty. When I say that, I mean that. There'd be the four of us and that would be it. No one else."
"Well if I don't like it, couldn't I just leave if I wanted to?"
"Nah. We couldn't let ya. It wouldn't be safe for us and the safety of the group is the most important thing. If ya left, went back out in the world ya might tell someone about the place, or lead someone there, and we can't have that. The three of us have a deal about that." He shrugs, "We ain't tryin' ta be mean, we're tryin' ta be smart."
"Well tell me something about it."
Merle Dixon is a plain talker and he lays it out like it is, "You'd be livin' with me, sleepin' in my bed. We got our own place. It ain't a lot but it's everything we'd need. We all gotta work, it's how we survive. That's all I can tell ya."
Merle Dixon isn't the man she would have chosen, but ever since he chose her, she's discovered he's just the right man for her. He's coarse and ornery, but he's also sweet and funny, and in this world a person needs a good laugh. He's warm in bed and he's all about making sure she's satisfied. There isn't a doubt in her mind he'd do everything in his power to keep her safe. And practically speaking, she's seen enough of this shitty new world to know, it has nothing to offer her. Whatever it's like where he lives, and whatever is there doesn't really matter, because he'll be there and she wants him.
"I'd like to go with you Merle. I like thinking I'll be sleeping in your bed for the rest of my life."
He smiles and suggests, "That sounds good ta me too Darlin'. Let's get started right now."
She doesn't tell him the rest. Not yet, she'll wait until they get where they're going.
When morning comes he loads up the pickup bed with the big bags of coffee, the women didn't drink much of it. There's still all the sugar and the creamer too. There's lots of peanut butter and snack items, and he has a plan. He'll give half of all the supplies to this Officer Friendly fella, along with that case of shine he brought. The other half of the supplies will go back up the mountain with him and Frankie.
When everything is loaded in the pickup he tells the women, "C'mon now, all you pretty ladies get them fine asses of yours in the pickup."
Frankie corrects him, "Merle, if you're my man you can't be talking about other women's asses that way."
"Oh yeah? Okay. All right ladies, get them butts in the truck."
00
A/N Please leave a comment. Will Merle and the ladies get to the prison? Will Merle and Frankie make it back up the mountain? Will Daryl and Jack get the Thanksgiving Turkey? We'll find out soon. The chapter photo is on my tumblr blogs gneebee and bethylmethbrick, please have a look. I'll be back next week with a new chapter of The Man on The Mountain, I hope you'll be here too. Until then remember, I love ya large! xo gneebee