Chapter One

Scarlett O'Hara knelt in the dark earth of Ballyhara. The acrid smell of smoke drifted past

her in the air, and the remains of the now deserted village still smoldered slowly. As Scarlett

stared, she began to understand Rhett's fascination with the ruins of Dunmore Landing.

Rhett! Through her pain, Scarlett smiled, her heart jumping to her throat. Rhett was there,

he loved her, he would make everything better. Scarlett stood up; her chin lifted defiantly, green

eyes sparkling as several fat raindrops struck her face. She spread her arms to the gray sky. In

front of her stretched the blackened remains of the village she had built with her own hands, the

land she had returned to her people. She could rebuild, start over. With Rhett finally there,

anything was possible.

Scarlett's train of thought was broken by the sound of Cat's laughter echoing across the

land. A hundred feet away, Rhett ran with the little girl on his back, and she chortled with

laughter. Her wonderful daughter, who had saved her marriage unwittingly. Katie Colum O'Hara

would never cease to amaze her mother.

Shivering, Scarlett thought of Colum, who her daughter was named for. Never again would

she see the kind face o like her father's, never again would she hear his thick brogue as her

called to her, "Scarlett aroon..." She choked back a sob as she pictured Colum lying still on the

ground, dead. Scarlett had paid a terrible price for this land that she stood on, and she realized

she could never go back to it. She had failed, had lost, she had not fulfilled her duties as the

O'Hara. This overwhelming knowledge of losing a battle did what loss of life could not, and

Scarlett sank to the ground again in despair, clawing at the black earth. The drops of rain

increases in frequency, and Scarlett crumpled forward, her dark hair and dirtied dress spreading

out around her on the ground.

Rhett watched as, in the distance, Scarlett melted to the earth. He raced across the ground,

leaving Cat playing in the grass, a sense of panic rising in his throat as he neared his ex-wife. He

could not lose her now, not after coming across the ocean to find her, he thought in a foolish

panic. As he neared her, he saw her sides convulse with racking sobs, and he sighed in relief,

she was breathing. He knelt down beside the prone form in the grass and wrapped his arms

around her.

Several minutes later, her tears spent, Scarlett looked up at Rhett, her green eyes

reddened, but with a determined glint reflecting through her prismatic tears.

"We have to leave," she announced simply. When Rhett began to protest, she stood up,

strode away from him, and marched toward the ruins of the Big House, scooping up a squirming

Cat on the way.

Rhett found her in her bedroom, which had been barely touched by flame. He watched in

amazement as Scarlett began to toss her frocks into a valise. Expensive silks mixed with the soft

fabrics of everyday things in a hopeless jumble, buried by a pile of white nightdresses, and a

green silk dressing gown, emerald to match her eyes. She picked up a soft velvet robe, crimson

red, trimmed with fine ermine fur, when she threw to the floor with distaste. It was followed by

multitudes of brown and black skirts, which were soon buried under numerous brightly colored

petticoats. The pile of cloth was garnished with gaily-striped stockings, and Scarlett turned from

the pile, a small wrinkle of distaste forming across her nose, and stomped into Cat's room.

Small garments, all those left untouched by ruinous smoke, were packed into another valise

helter-skelter, and Scarlett deposited these bags in the arms of an open-mouthed Rhett. If she

had stopped to notice the look on his face, she would have laughed, for Rhett's surprise and

confusion was clearly inscribed across his features.

Without a backwards glance, she picked up her child and strode out of the ruins of the

house. When Rhett emerged several moments later, he was struck for the second time that day

by the image of a slight woman, her skirts billowing in the wind, her hair whipping around her in

messy tendrils, a small dark child in her arms. Scarlett had changed, and Rhett did not know her

any longer. All he did know was that he would do whatever he had to in order to ease the

troubled look in Scarlett's eyes, and to know this woman who had come into being since he had

left her, a flirtatious girl chasing after the clouds.