Thank you all so much. This is a big busy chapter, let's see if Daryl can rescue Merle!
Thanksgiving
The two women have gotten Merle's bed moved as far as the cabin door when Daryl returns towing the ATV with the animals, both dead and alive. He hangs the deer and the turkeys, grabs his knife and begins releasing the live turkeys from the gunny sacks into the makeshift pen in the tool shed. He's only gotten one in the pen when Beth is at his side, "Here, I can handle the rest of these, you get Frankie and go find your brother."
"You sure?"
"I'm sure." He pulls her close, whispering, "Thanks Beth. I love ya lady."
"I love you Daryl, now go. Go get Merle."
"K, I'll leave Jack here ta keep ya company."
Her smile is genuine, "Oh good, I missed him today."
The turkeys are heavier than the ducks and with a far worse bite, and oh my gosh, those claw-like feet. Beth is as careful as possible getting them in the pen, giving them water and snacks in hopes it will help to calm them down. It's not as bad as she feared because the birds have tired themselves trying to get out of the sacks. Jack is being such a good boy. As badly as he wants to attack when they scratch or bite at her, he knows Beth doesn't want him to. She promises him, "They'll calm down Jack, but we're always going to have to watch out for their beaks and those giant toenails."
When Beth has the turkeys secured, she grabs her basket, loads it with medical supplies and hurries through the cold back to the cabin, where Jack immediately curls up in his spot in front of the woodstove. Beth's not quite ready to stay in. She's thought of something they stored in that cold, cold cellar. It's something Merle might need, the IV bags. Snow is already building up and those doors will be impossible for her to open if it gets too deep, if she's going to get in there she'd better be quick about it.
While she's out she hurries to feed the ducks and get them in the coop. On a normal day that would be something she'd wait to do until just before sundown, but this day is anything but normal. As hurried as she feels, she still takes the time to smile at her small flock and tell them, "You get in that straw and stay warm now my friends. I'll be back with more food and water in the morning."
Beth picks up the basket and ventures into the cellar, and then the tool shed again. She's finally back at the cabin where sets everything down and takes care of first things first. As cold as it is, and as much snow as is falling, the woodstoves get her full attention. She stokes both the fire in the bathroom and the one in the house, then a silly little thought comes to mind and she smiles to herself. Daryl was right, the more bodies they get in this small cabin the warmer it will feel.
It won't just be the people that make it feel crowded. There's so much stuff everywhere. Oh my gosh, she and Jack are the only ones here and it already feels crowded. With the two big beds and all of the foods Beth has been stocking in the house, and now medical supplies too, they'll be climbing over each other. It's okay though. Like Daryl said, it's best if they all stay together until Merle's back on his feet.
After stoking the fires and before she gets busy making the bed up, she starts on food. Everyone, including her, is going to be starving. Let's see. There's a quart jar of chicken soup. If Merle's able to eat at all, that will be perfect for him. The rest of them are going to need something quite a bit heartier.
There's a half gallon jar of venison chili, they have some small bags of Fritos that will go good with it, and there are still saltines in the airtight can near the sink. Maybe they should have some fruit too, let's see, yes, canned strawberries. Yesterday's biscuits have gotten a little stale, but if she heats them up, then pours a little warm milk and lots of strawberries over them, and sprinkles a some sugar on top, yum. That will make a nice dessert, and Lord knows, they've all earned it.
She pours the chili in a cast iron pot and sets it on the back of the stove, it will heat very slowly which is fine. Beth's afraid it will be quite some time before her family is home to eat.
Beth makes the extra bed next, and it's a job she hates, especially when it has to be slid right up next to the wall. Daryl usually helps her with changing sheets and bed making, but she's more than capable of doing it herself. She just wishes she didn't have to. Then she scolds herself, "Remember your blessings, Beth."
She moves the small table next to the bed. the same table Daryl set by the bed when she was recovering. It's not big enough to hold everything she thinks she'll need to care for Merle, but she'll keep some of the supplies in a basket under the table. They'll be easy to access.
She's not looking forward to it, it's not something nurses do, but Beth expects to have to do surgery. If the bullets didn't pass all the way through, she can't just leave them in Merle, and there's also a good possibility he'll have other wounds that will need sutures. She might be doing a lot of sewing tonight. Thank God she has the supplies she needs.
Beth rolls the IV stand over by the end of the bed, she doesn't want it in the way when Daryl's bringing Merle in. She's sure Merle will be dehydrated and in need of fluids. The IV bags filled with normal saline that they took from the vet clinic have been safely stored in the cellar, and even though it wasn't manufactured for humans, she's certain it's the same. Anyway, it won't hurt Merle and will probably help. A lot. Medicine designed for animals is better than no medicine at all.
The makeshift hospital is as set up as it can be, and there's a meal planned and heating for them all. The fires are stoked, the birds are all taken care of, and Beth is exhausted. She was up so early, and it's been such a crazy day. There's a good chance that as soon as her family gets home she'll spend hours caring for Merle's injuries. She'd better get some rest. "Jack, what do you think about me and you having a little snack and a fast nap?"
The dog looks at her like he hopes she's talking about what he thinks she's talking about, and wags his tail when he sees her opening his jar of biscuits. She gets herself a granola bar, then realizes it's the first thing she's eaten today. Better have an apple too. She's going to need her strength.
She curls up in the chair with a blanket over her, Jack lays in his spot by the fire, and they're both out in less than a minute.
00
Daryl fires up the pickup, but before he starts down the mountain he drives over to where the bodies of Negan and Gavin lay. As he's getting out of the vehicle he instructs Frankie, "Hang tight," and she watches him in the side mirror as he lifts the two bodies into the bed of the pickup. When he gets back in the cab Frankie doesn't ask for any explanations. She's already learned, Dixon men do what they're going to do, and besides, no one will be happier than Frankie to see the bodies and the memories go.
The snow seems to be getting heavier by the minute, and even in the cab of the truck he can feel that the outside temperature has dropped. Daryl has a new concern, he's worried about getting back up the mountain once they find Merle. What if the pickup can't make it through the snow, shit, then what's he going do? Carry a badly wounded 180-pound man on his back for a couple days, in the snow? Not likely.
In his concern he steps on the accelerator a little harder, gets going a little faster, and the pickup slides in the fresh snow, "Fuck me. Sorry bout that. I'll slow er down."
"Don't be sorry. I know you're anxious, so am I."
Now's as good a time as any for him to ask her, "So, Frankie, just what the hell happened? How the fuck did these assholes find you and my brother? Better yet, how the hell did they get the jump on Merle?"
She tells him everything, "We didn't know there was anyone anywhere near us, and then out of nowhere there were four gunshots and oh my gawd, the pickup hit the ground like it had been dropped off a building." Frankie's exhausted, hungry, scared, feeling guilty and she's teary-eyed. All of those things come out in her voice, "So, gee, I think he was paying way too much attention to me and worrying about whether I was going to like it up here, he wasn't as careful as he could have been."
"Yeah, but where did these assholes come from? They knew ya from before, right? These were the ones who had you n them other ladies at some camp?"
She nods, the best thing to do is just tell it all, "Okay, let me start at the beginning."
She does. She tells him about her and Merle finding the two campers just off the trailhead and how Merle told her he'd also run into them on his way down the mountain. Then she tells Daryl about the way they'd been killed, "I didn't really look at the bodies, but when Merle told me one of them had been bludgeoned to death I was sure Negan was involved. I know I should have said something to him. I wasn't trying to keep secrets, I just didn't want Merle to worry."
"Later, when the tires were shot out and Negan shot Merle in the shoulder, then drug us both out of the truck, that's when Negan said the young couple told him they saw Merle a few days ago when he was driving down the mountain. That's what made Negan suspect he'd come down from a camp up here."
"Fuck."
"Yes, I know. Negan and Gavin had also been looking for me and the other women for a several days, and they'd just located the rehab house where we'd all been staying. I think they saw me and Merle there this morning and followed us."
"It ain't like Merle ta just not notice sumthin' like that. Shit, you're tellin' me guys were followin' him and he didn't even know?"
Frankie tries to explain how she sees it, "Negan's very sharp about that stuff Daryl. He's wicked and clever and honest to God, we're lucky it wasn't worse. As for Merle, he had a lot on his mind. He wasn't just thinking about me and getting up the mountain. There's something else."
Daryl turns his head to give her a quick glance when he questions, "Yeah? What's that?"
"I'm pregnant."
The only words that come out of Daryl's mouth are, "Oh shit."
Then Frankie tells him the rest of the story, about the men and the possibility Merle is not the father. Daryl responds, "That's between you and Merle, it ain't my business. But since ya did tell me, I'll tell you, Merle's right, it's his baby. Period. It seems like you're the one who has ta start thinkin' of it that way n try ta forget all the other bullshit. It's what's best for you, best for the baby and best for Merle."
She smiles through quiet tears, "You Dixon brothers are something else. You're the best."
He snorts, "Yeah, I doubt that."
It's a holdover from the old moonshining days, Daryl and Merle don't always take the same path up and down the mountain. They change it up so the tire tracks don't get dug in and make it easy for the curious to find them. There are deeply rooted old habits of not developing an obvious routine, so Daryl's not sure exactly what route Merle took this time, and shit, the sun's starting to drop like a rock. It's going to be dark soon, "Can ya point me in the direction ya came from?"
Frankie points, "Yes, about 20 yards to your left and it seemed like we were just coming straight up."
He turns in the direction she pointed and resumes his drive down the mountain, telling her, "A'ight, if ya think I need ta change direction at all, tell me. Til then, I'll just keep drivin' straight down this big ass hill."
"Okay."
00
It hurt like a muther fucker. Fuck man, it took everything he had in him to remain silent when that bastard shot him in the leg, but he knew he had to. He was pretty sure his only chance at getting out of this mess alive was if they thought he was no threat and was just going to lay there and bleed to death. If they suspected he was conscious they'd beat him every which way they could, trying to get the information from him. Then shoot him in the head.
Merle's not ready to die, he'll scream about the pain later.
As for Frankie, Merle's putting all his faith in Daryl and Beth. He's sure this Negan asshole would eventually kill her, but first he's going to keep Frankie for a few days doing what he always did with her, not out of love or even lust, but to torture and punish her. It pains Merle's heart to think about these things, but he's a realist. His hope is that the asshole won't be doing that stuff out here in the middle of freezing-ass-cold nowhere, in front of his lame ass friend. Frankie told him Negan likes to get his women all dressed up and play little games. That gives Merle hope the bastard will wait to get her somewhere he can do all that. But before he can, Daryl will put him down like the dirty dog he is.
Fuck, it's got to work. It's the only way. The assholes leave him here to die and take Frankie with them to find the camp. Once Negan approaches in that loud truck, Daryl and Beth will both be at the ready. They'll kill Negan's ass, his buddy too, then Frankie will bring them here. Yeah. He needs it to happen like that.
For now, he's got to stay alive.
He waits for a few minutes after he hears the truck pull off, just in case, then slowly opens his eyes. He looks down at his leg and mutters, "Fuck that muther fuckin' ass wipe," and gets busy.
He lays flat on his back and struggles with the buckle of his belt, while a steady stream of cuss words flow from his mouth. Finally, the buckle is loosened and he pulls the belt through the loops and off. What's normally a simple action leaves him out of breath and exhausted, but he forces himself to sit up. He slips his knife from its sheath and uses it to poke a few more holes in the leather belt, then he wraps the belt around his upper leg and pulls it so tight it hurts. It's got to be that way, he can't afford to lose more blood.
Fuck, it's freezing out and snowing like a son of a bitch. So, even though he's weak and a little disoriented, and all he wants to do is lay back and rest a while, he knows he'll die if he does. He'll freeze to death in no time. Somehow he's got to get himself up and get inside the cab of the pickup. It's got damn near a full tank of gas, and if he can get himself in there, he can run the heat all night while he waits for his brother.
He works through the pain and manages to get his body moved around a half turn and up on one knee, his right knee. His left leg is the injured one and he's got that sticking almost straight out to the side. He's facing the pickup door when he leans his right hand on the running board, giving it every last drop of strength he has and screaming like a banshee as he pushes himself to a standing position.
The action has Merle completely spent. He leans his forehead against the freezing cold driver's side window and breathes in deeply. Fuck, every part of him is screaming in pain. That doesn't matter. He's got to keep going if he wants to survive this bullshit.
He exhales deeply, grabs the door handle with his only usable hand, the right one, and hops to the side as he yanks on the handle. The door opens and he hops back between it and the entry to the pickup. That's when the door closes on it's own behind him, and Merle screams "Fuck!" as it slams into his wounded shoulder. "You fuckin' muther fucker!" He'd shoot the fuckin' thing if he could.
Right now, he's got to get his ass into this damn pickup. He grabs hold of the steering wheel, then lifts his right foot onto the running board. He takes another deep breath and as he bears down with his foot and pulls up with his hand, he somehow manages to throw himself sideways onto the driver's seat. He's in. The trouble is, he's on his side, his injured let sticking halfway out the door.
He grabs onto the center console with his good hand, pulls his body forward as best he can, while also sliding his hip. After a few exhausting attempts, he's now able to push and pull himself into a seated position. Thank God.
He pulls the door shut, pushes down on the accelerator and starts it up. The heat is going, the cab will warm up soon. He grabs the bottle of water Frankie had in her cup holder, opens the cap and drinks it down. Shit, he knows he's dehydrated, and he's lost a fair share of blood, but dammit, he's alive. All there is to do now is pray to God that Frankie's all right, that Daryl took care of those sons a bitches, and that his brother will find him before he dies.
That's a lot of asks, and those asks are the last thing on Merle's mind when he passes out.
00
Beth wakes to the feel of Jack licking her hand, "Oh my gosh, of course, you need to go out. I'm sorry Jack, I forgot all about that. Let me get my boots on."
As soon as Beth opens the door she makes up her mind about two things, and quickly dresses for the weather in her hat, coat and gloves. It's dark out but with the lantern in her hand she can see there are several inches of snow on the ground. She's confident it's still not so much that she can't trudge through it.
It's also freezing cold and the snow just seems to be getting heavier and heavier, and by tomorrow they're going to need to shovel a path just for Jack to get out and do what he has to do. That's the reason her first stop is going to be the tool shed. She's going to get shovels to have at the cabin.
Beth is walking into the wind, and as the icy snow hits her face it feels like a thousand stings. The wind just doesn't let up for a second, it's even fighting the tool shed door, but Beth manages to get it open and get inside.
The turkeys seem fine. Thank goodness. They have fresh water, they've been fed and there's plenty of straw for 've been living in the wild so they should be pretty tough. She locates the shovels right away, and is delighted to see Daryl has a snow shovel. Oh good. She should have known he'd be prepared. She grabs it and another shovel, hurrying over to Merle's house next.
Beth leaves the shovels leaning against his house as again she has to fight the wind to open the door. Once inside she whispers a quiet, "Thank you God," when she finds there are still hot coals in the woodstove and the oven. She fills each with more logs, uses the bellows to get the flames burning hot, and when she's sure they've caught, she closes the heavy iron doors.
She uses furnishings to make a temporary pen for her ducks. She just can't bring herself to leave them outside in this bitter cold. It's not only that she'll be heartbroken if they die, but those ducks are also a part of how she and her family will survive. Their eggs will be a steady food source.
For now, what Beth has to do is transport the birds from the coop to Merle's. She's relieved to find Merle still has all the foods she gave him, including the jar of raw oats. Of course he wouldn't have cooked himself anything, he's been taking all of his meals with them. She opens the jar and fills her pockets with the oats.
It doesn't seem like the smart thing to do in this weather, but she's not going to shut the door to the house. If she does, she'll never get it open when she returns with a duck in her arms. She leaves it cracked a little and hurries as fast as she can. She has to fight the gate to the pen against a small drift of snow, but she gets in and opens the door of the coop. The ducks are quacking like crazy, she feels like they're happy to see her and she calls them by name, "C'mon, Donald, Daisy c'mon, Huey and Doris, hurry, Doreen and DeeDee, let's get out of the cold, Daphne and Donna, follow me."
Will they? It's certainly worth a try, and gee, she does represent their food source so they should. She digs in her pocket for oats and drops a few on the ground, "C'mon Donald, c'mon." If she can get him to follow her, she's pretty sure they all will, and oh my gosh, he starts to. Beth continues dropping the oats as she slowly walks toward Merle's, and the ducks follow her as they eat. They're not going very fast and Beth's feet are freezing, but it will sure beat trying to catch them and making eight trips to and from Merle's house.
Thank you, God. Thank you. The ducks follow her into the house, and she quickly shuts the door behind them. The place already feels warmer as she coaxes the birds into her makeshift pen. She gives them the rest of the oats and some bowls of water, and checks the remaining food. She finds Merle has two jars of peaches and one of peas stashed, "You ducks are going to be spoiled tonight. Oh my gosh, what do you think Daryl would say if he knew I was giving you peaches?"
She doesn't give them all the peaches, they've had plenty of food, she only makes sure they each get a taste before telling her ducks, "Sleep tight and I'll see you tomorrow."
She checks the fires again, adds another log to each, and before leaving Merle's, Beth takes the broom and sweeps the snow back out of the house that blew in when she left the door open. She picks up her lantern, shuts the door tight and grabs the shovels. She can't wait to get home and get her cold wet clothes off.
She sheds her outdoor gear, puts on her favorite sweats and her slippers, stokes the stoves again and makes herself a rare treat. She gets a packet of the hot chocolate mix they found in the break room at the construction company, puts it in a cup and gets the hot water kettle from the back of the woodstove. Mmm, she can smell the chocolate.
She sits in front of the fire enjoying her mug of chocolate but fully aware of the reality, this is very likely the calm before the storm. Once Merle gets home, she's going to be so busy.
She looks at Jack and tells him her thoughts, "You know boy, I always thought it would be so peaceful and romantic to live in a little cabin in the woods, with the man I love and away from all the trouble and meanness of the world. Guess what I've found out? It's a lot of work living in the wilderness, in fact the work never stops," Beth smiles more broadly and rubs his head, "But you know what else? I love living here. It's all worth it to be on this mountain with Daryl, and you too of course."
00
Daryl sees Merle's rig up ahead. Damn, that was such a nice truck and now it's useless to them. What he doesn't see is Merle. He pulls up right next to the pickup and that's when he spots him, yeah, he should have known Merle would figure out a way to get inside and get warm. You can't keep his stubborn ass down.
He instructs Frankie, "I know you're itchin' ta see him, but lemme just check on him first."
She realizes Daryl's protecting her, just in case things have gone as bad as they could go. She appreciates that and he's right, but she's so anxious to see Merle. She waits though, she knows Merle would want her to listen to Daryl.
Daryl opens the pickup door and immediately presses two fingers to Merle's neck. Thank God. His pulse feels strong, "Hey brother, Merle, it's me, Daryl. Hey, can ya open yer eyes?"
Merle slowly stirs, his eyes not quite open and his voice barely audible when he smiles, "Shit little brother, what the hell took ya so fuckin' long?"
"The usual, I stopped ta get my hair done."
Merle starts to chuckle but quickly stops, "Fuck man, it hurts worse when I laugh."
"I'll try not ta be so funny." Daryl's no joker and he's been worried sick about Merle. He knew the odds were overwhelming that he'd find his brother dead. But then again, it's Merle and Merle just won't let himself get killed. Here he is, weak and battered but alive, and he hasn't lost his sense of humor.
"Merle, I need ya ta listen ta me. Them fellas who done this? That asshole with the bat and his buddy? They're in the bed a his truck. It's gonna be our truck now. I'ma put them fellas in this truck and do to it what we done ta them vans and those other assholes."
Merle's smile is weak, and his voice weaker, "Good boy. I taught ya right."
"Pfft, yeah, whatever, listen now, I need ta know. Are ya okay ta wait while I unload the stuff outta here and put it in your new truck?"
As the question is being asked, Frankie has come to join them. She just couldn't wait another minute, "I can help you unload this one into the other, it will go much faster with two of us."
Merle's eyes are closed again but he reaches for her hand, "Okay, but nuthin' heavy now Darlin', ya gotta protect junior."
Daryl and Frankie are both smiling as she climbs up on the running board, leans in and kisses his cheek, "I'm so glad you're okay."
He smiles, "I don't know how okay I am Darlin', but I know I ain't dead."
Daryl gets serious again, "Okay, it's snowing like a sumbitch, the wind is blowin' and you need ta get doctored up. We're gonna do what we can do in the next 15 or 20 minutes, then we're gettin' outta here and the rest goes up in smoke."
"K, be sure n get that birdseed for Beth's ducks. Coffee too, we got a lotta coffee. Frankie'll show ya."
"Gotcha," Daryl gets the lantern from the back seat and him and Frankie get to work.
She tells him, "I'll get everything out of the backseat Daryl. It's all lightweight, just clothes and stuff."
"Yeah, okay." Daryl's already gotten the bodies out of the bed of Negan's pickup and moved the gas cans from Merle's bed into the new truck. He never stops moving and neither does Frankie, and in 20 minutes, they have it all done. It's not pretty and organized like it was, but at this point that's the least of their concerns.
The hard part comes now, but between Daryl and Frankie, and with Merle's stubborn determination, they get him out of his old pickup and into his new one. He and Frankie will be squished in tight on the way home, but that's fine. Getting home is all that matters.
Daryl drives what is now Merle's new pickup fifty feet or so from the disabled truck. He leaves the engine running and the driver's side door open, then hurries back to Merle's old truck.
Daryl first takes the weapons off Negan and Gavin, stuffing two pistols in his waistband and a couple of nice knives in his boots. He then heaves the bodies of the two bastards into the bed of the pickup, grabs the last of the gas cans and heavily douses the bodies and the vehicle with the fuel, muttering, "Shit, I hate wastin' gas on these assholes."
He stands back a couple of feet, strikes a match and sets a rag on fire, tossing it into the back of the pickup before running like hell to the other rig. He jumps in the driver's seat but they don't take off right away. They all want to see that son of a bitch combust, and when it does Daryl puts the truck in gear and mutters, "Up yours muther fuckers," following with, "let's get home."
00
The wind is howling, and even though she knows the cabin's construction is sound, it's frightening when the windows rattle. The winds are whipping so loudly she barely hears the truck approaching, but she does hear it and that's all it takes for a big smile to spread across Beth's face. It's followed by a wrinkled brow and dark concern. What if Merle didn't make it? No, no, don't think like that, he has to be okay.
Daryl left the pickup headlights on to light their path so, when she opens the front door for them, Beth sees Daryl and Frankie move Merle from the truck. Daryl wraps his brother's arm across his shoulder and half carries him into the house, and Frankie is walking behind them. Beth calls to her, "Hurry Frankie, get in here!" Frankie does what she's told, dashing around the brothers and getting inside, and Beth half-scolds, "For gosh sake, get those wet clothes off and sit by the fire. Once I get Merle stable, we'll have some dinner."
"Thank you Beth, you're so thoughtful."
Beth doesn't respond because Daryl's bringing the patient in and she asks Merle, "Can you sit on a kitchen chair long enough for us to get your clothes and boots off?"
"Yeah, yeah."
It's a struggle getting his coat off without hurting his shoulder more. Daryl's had enough of all that by the time it's done. He doesn't bother being so delicate with the rest, he simply cuts off Merle's shirt, undershirt and pants, relieved to see his brother's wearing boxers. You never know with Merle.
They work together, Frankie lifting his feet and Daryl lifting his upper body, and they lay Merle in the bed.
Beth talks to her patient, "Merle, the first thing I'm going to do is get an IV started. I know you've lost blood and I'm sure you're dehydrated, but amazingly, you don't appear to have hypothermia."
Daryl smiles, "He got hisself back in the pickup. When I found him he was all cozy n warm in there with the heat goin' full blast."
Merle's eyes are closed but he's smiling, "Hardest I ever worked in my whole fuckin' life was gettin' my ass in that truck."
Daryl lays a hand on Merle's good shoulder, "You're one tough sumbitch brother."
In the meantime, Beth has the IV started and she tells her patient, "I'm going to clean these wounds, then I'm going to take the bullets out and stitch you up. I'll check on these other cuts and abrasions too. The bad news is, I don't have anything that will put you under while I work, but the good news is, I do have some pain pills."
Suddenly Merle's voice is strong and determined, "No. No fuckin' way Sis. Ya can't give me them pain pills, I'm an addict. You just do what you gotta do and I'll lay here and take it."
Beth's eyes are wide, "Are you sure Merle? This is going to hurt."
"I'm sure Sis." Beth won't argue with him. She has great admiration for Merle, he's going to endure whatever he has to endure not to fall back into his addiction.
She's as gentle and as careful as she can be as she gets him cleaned up, then she starts on his leg. She's got the bullet located, it's in muscle tissue, there's no damage to the bone. It shouldn't be especially hard to get to, or to get out, but it's going to hurt like hell.
Daryl and Frankie hold the patient down as Merle bites on a rag and Beth removes the bullet. He's shaking and sweating, but he doesn't scream or call out. While Beth is stitching him up, Frankie uses a cool washcloth, gently running in over his face and upper body to calm and sooth him.
Next is the shoulder. The news is both good and bad. The bullet passed through, but there's a lot pf tearing and a lot more cleaning, then the stitching, front and back. Merle's as brave as he was with the leg, and Beth is astounded. She's seen people react to pain more when they're medicated.
It doesn't go quickly but eventually the job is done. At least for now. She knows he's in pain, and he'll be in pain for days, but he still hasn't complained.
They have their dinner, even Merle. He lays in the bed and Frankie spoon feeds him the broth and even mashes up a strawberry for him. Soon he's done and out. The rest of them have their chili, Fritos and dessert, and as they're cleaning up Daryl says, "It's so damn cold. I better go check on all them birds."
Beth informs him, "I've already checked on the turkeys and the ducks. Everything is fine. You don't need to do a thing."
He takes a step back and asks, "What?"
She tells him about getting the shovels and visiting the turkeys. She follows with the story of getting fires started in Merle's stoves, making a temporary pen for them, and coaxing the ducks inside with oats, "They're warm and full."
Daryl's impressed, "Damn, lady, you're like a fuckin' wonder woman."
He, Frankie and Beth all laugh, then Beth says, "Well wonder woman is exhausted and needs to get to bed. The day after tomorrow is Thanksgiving and that means tomorrow I'll be busy getting everything prepped, and don't forget, I have pie to make."
Thanksgiving Day
There's no mac and cheese, no sweet potato casserole, no deviled eggs, no cranberries, no pumpkin pie and no fruit salad, but they don't miss those things. They're having a delicious Thanksgiving dinner of roast turkey, green beans, mashed potatoes, gravy and dinner rolls. There's moonshine punch and hot coffee, and for dessert they'll be enjoying a peach pie.
The best part is, Merle's up and sitting with them at the crowded kitchen table, where Beth leads a short prayer thanking God for bringing Merle home to them, for the love of their family, including the little baby that's coming, the bounty before them, and the ducks and turkeys who all made it safely through the season's first blizzard.
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A/N Happy Thanksgiving to all! There's so much to be grateful for. Please leave a comment. The chapter photo is on my tumblr blogs gneebee and bethylmethbrick, please have a look. I'll be back next week with more of The Man on The Mountain. I hope you'll be here too. Until then remember, I love ya large! xo gneebee