Chapter I
"Kiss me," she whispered. "Kiss me good-by."
His arms went around her gently, and he bent his head to her face. At the first touch of his lips on hers, her arms were about his neck in a strangling grip. For a fleeting immeasurable instant, he pressed her body close to his. Then she felt a sudden tensing of all his muscles. Swiftly, he dropped the hat to the floor and, reaching up, detached her arms from his neck.
"No, Scarlett, no," he said in a low voice, holding her crossed wrists in a grip that hurt.
"I love you," she said choking. "I've always loved you. I've never loved anybody else. I just married Charlie to-to try to hurt you. Oh, Ashley, I love you so much I'd walk every step of the way to Virginia just to be near you! And I'd cook for you and polish your boots and groom your horse-Ashley, say you love me! I'll live on it for the rest of my life!"
He bent suddenly to retrieve his hat and she had one glimpse of his face. It was the unhappiest face she was ever to see, a face from which all aloofness had fled. Written on it were his love for and joy that she loved him, but battling them both were shame and despair.
"Good-by," he said hoarsely.
The door clicked open and a gust of cold wind swept the house, fluttering the curtains. Scarlett shivered as she watched him run down the walk to the carriage, his saber glinting in the feeble winter sunlight, the fringe of his sash dancing jauntily.
He loved her. She was sure of it now. And that was all she needed to survive, all she needed was to know that he loved her and she would be able to make it through the endless days that stretched between now and the end of the war. Surely his actions proved his affections more than his words would have, and they had lit a fire inside her that brought a new passion to the tiresome tasks of nursing and sewing circles. Her strength, worn thin by months of hard work and lacking nourishment, was revived by the knowledge that Ashley loved her and knew she still loved him.
Each day she lived with newfound vivacity. The hours she spent with the wounded and dying soldiers in the hospital had never seemed such a rewarding task. Every man who's bandages she changed or whose wounds she cleaned became, in her mind, her Ashley. Somewhere there was surely a woman who loved this man, the way she loved him, and for their benefit she nursed them to the best of her ability. She only hoped that should any harm fall upon Ashley there was as devoted a woman caring for him too.
The lack of social events didn't bother her. No one could bring themselves to hold a bazaar or dance, not when their loved ones were on the front lines fighting and dying for their Glorious Cause. Even if there had been occasion to celebrate, the war had already made so many widows there would be very few in attendance. But with Ashley so far away Scarlett couldn't imagine enjoying such festivities, it seemed almost traitorous to allow herself to be held by one man when her heart belonged to another. She passed her days sewing and mending uniforms with the other woman and talking of the latest news from the battlefield.
This change did not go unnoticed by her companions, and Melanie took it as a great credit to herself that Scarlett finally seemed to be recovering from Charles' death. It had been almost two years now, and it was good to see color return to Scarlett's face and passion return to her activities. No one ever suspected what had happened just before Ashley's departure and that it, rather than a redeemed devotion to the Cause, was the reason for Scarlett's cheerful demeanor.
If only I could feel this way forever, Scarlett thought. Content with the knowledge that her love was requited. Sure that whatever hardships lay ahead of her she would overcome them because soon Ashley would return to her. However, in war hardly anything ends the way one had hoped, and so was also the fate of her faraway love.
The telegram arrived only two months after his furlough ended and he had once again departed for the Troop. Scarlett had been at the hospital all morning, redeemed by the hope that her good work in Atlanta would ensure Ashley's protection on the frontlines. But upon her return the small Peachtree Street house she had immediately known something was wrong. There had been no sight of Aunt Pittypat or Melanie, and a grave quietness filled the rooms. She had begun to head up the stairs in search of her companions when she had spotted it, torn open, on the parlor table.
"Regret to inform you Major Wilkes was killed in a scouting expedition on 10th February."
And that was all it said. Two lines of text and it felt like Scarlett's world had come crumbling down around her. She had never fainted in her life but at this instance she was almost certain she would. They must be wrong, she thought. If he had died I would know, I would feel it. But as she continued to stand there in stunned silence she realized that in the pit of her heart she knew he was, that the man she had loved was gone. That she would never see the lanky figure coming home, never gaze into the grey eyes so full of wisdom, never hear his soft voice in casual conversation, and never again would he hold her in his arms.
For Scarlett, although she had already been widowed by the war, the emotions that swelled up inside her were entirely knew. The pain was worse than anything she'd ever felt, worse than when Ashley had told her he wouldn't marry her, worse than when she saw him marry Melanie, worse than when she herself married Charles. It felt as if she had been shot through the heart, instead of Ashley. And before she was able to control herself they came spilling out of her, in violent sobs and shrieks, in heavy streams of tears that ran down her face and fell onto the telegram, in racking breaths that always felt too shallow. Consumed by her grief, she was only vaguely aware of comforting hands on her back and strong arms carrying her up the staircase.
Time disappeared, and the only thing she could feel was the pain inside her. The only thing she could do was let out loud, incomprehensible sobs, cries for her lost love who lay far. The world slipped away and she was only aware of the fact that Ashley was gone, Ashley was gone and he would never come home. It wasn't until no more tears fell and her fatigued body could no longer produce noise that sleep came to claim her. But even in her dreams she was tortured by the darkness that filled a world without him.
