The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns.

This story starts in a dark place and goes back there from time to time. I don't think there's any sort of physical abuse or violence or anything commonly triggering, but it's not nice. There is some alcohol abuse.

Getting on a train was usually an exciting event in a young man's life, indicating an adventure waiting at the next station, begun in the most modern transportation available. Wade Hampton Hamilton was anything but cheerful. He was going to face a man he once loved dearly and now hated equally. Every day for the last five years, hate had been uppermost. Yet he would need to be cordial for this meeting. Uncle Henry said it would be good practice for when he was a lawyer, to calmly meet with people who make one's skin crawl and negotiate the best solution for one's client.

Rhett Butler had taught him so many things about being a man. He'd learned how to ride horses, how to drink liquor, and when walking away was better than a left hook. Rhett taught him about respecting ladies and all women, as well as a few tricks to dancing gracefully. On the other hand, Rhett had ruined his mother's life, killed his sister, and torn his world apart. Wade couldn't help but be bitter. At the moment he would have to be polite because the man held his life in his hands. Based on his mother's last meeting with Rhett and every communication since, Wade feared for the outcome.

Henry Hamilton was grim as they got on the train, too. Wade should have gone to Harvard at least a year earlier, but Butler refused to work with the family, had refused all the offers. There had been some good offers, too. This new offer was by far the best yet, and Henry didn't want to miss the opportunity. Yet, any man who could treat even Scarlett O'Hara the way that man had would probably laugh in their faces.


July 1874

Wade and Ella were at breakfast when Mother started shrieking and crying. Within minutes they found her in Uncle Rhett's room, wrapped in his robe and tearing at his sheets. Wade and Ella both tried to calm her, but she wouldn't stop crying and shrieking Rhett's name, over and over.

Pork sent his son to fetch Doctor Meade, and Mother was gently tugged over to her own bedroom. By now she'd lost her voice, but she was still crying and thrashing in misery. The doctor came and sedated her. Henry Hamilton was summoned as the most responsible family member available. The two elderly gentlemen went out into the hallway to confer. Wade listened from his cracked bedroom door.

"There was an empty brandy bottle in the room with her. I think she's drunk or hung over," said the doctor.

"Captain Butler interrupted my breakfast. He was definitely drunk or hung over himself."

"What's he doing in town?"

"They signed their divorce settlement last night. He gave me a copy and told me he was taking the completed document to file at the courthouse himself before going back to Charleston."

"If he used that brandy to get her to sign, then she wasn't in her right mind. Can you get it quashed?"

"It won't matter to the Yankee judge who's a friend of his."

"We have to protect her."

"She made this bed for herself. She allowed that man to become part of her circle and then she married him."

"She was raised to be a lady, and there are her children to consider."

"There's no way to fight the divorce."

"We will have to help in other ways, then."

"I suppose I can start by looking over the settlement they signed and see what she's getting from it. If he wanted it in such a hurry, it must be more than fair to her. If it wasn't at least half of his estate, we may be able to get the judge to agree with us."


The air in the train car became damp as they approached the coast. Uncle Henry looked over at Wade. "Even if he doesn't agree, we'll find a way. Your mother can always sell some of the stock from her settlement."

Wade shook his head. "You were very clear when she was finally calm enough and we went over it all with her. She needs the income. We just looked at the books together over Christmas. This year, if she's going to plant the next forty acres, she will need every penny of that money. We need to make Rhett see reason. He chose the life he's living now. He can afford to do what we need."

"Your mother chose her life, too. She signed that settlement."

"Only after he forced her, and we know at least some of what else happened that night." Scarlett had never told the full story. Wade didn't want to know.


They reached Charleston in the late afternoon and stayed overnight in a hotel, presenting themselves at the Butler residence just after they finished breakfast. They were ushered into where Rhett was still eating his toast. The day's newspaper was at his left hand, a full tumbler of whisky was at his right. They'd been announced, and he was wearing what Wade thought of as Rhett's poker face.

"Gentlemen, welcome to Charleston."

"Good morning, Uncle Rhett."

"You've quite grown up, Wade Hampton. You're a handsome young man, now." Rhett considered Charles Hamilton's son. He was very definitely a Hamilton, but Scarlett's Robillard ancestors had reached down and blessed him with finer lines than his father had.

"Thank you." Wade thought Rhett looked a bit run down but decided not to point it out.

"You're looking well, Henry."

"I'm still quite able to look after things."

That pretty much used up the standard greetings, thought Wade, except—

"And how is your mother, Wade Hampton?"

A woman who looked a few years older than mother came into the breakfast room and paused. "You didn't tell me we were expecting guests, Rhett."

"They were here to see me, Mrs. Butler. I didn't see that it was any of your affair."

The woman held her hand out to Henry. "I'm Caro Butler."

"Henry Hamilton, ma'am.

She turned and shook Wade's hand. "And who is this fine young gentleman?"

"Wade Hampton Hamilton," he answered for himself. "Uncle Rhett is my step-father."

Wade's hand was dropped, almost as though it disgusted her. "You mean he was your step-father," said Mrs. Butler. "I take it you're the O'Hara woman's son?"

"Damn it, Caroline, just go away," said Rhett with a growl.

"This is the breakfast room, Rhett. I'm here for breakfast."

"Then I shall take my guests to the study," said Rhett. He picked up his whisky glass and gestured to the Hamiltons to follow him. Everyone sat down and Rhett refilled his glass from a decanter that was a little too easy to reach.

"You were going to tell me. How is Scarlett?"

Henry looked at Wade. "I saw her at Christmas," he said. "She's doing well."

Rhett leaned over his desk, an eager look on his face. "Is she happy?"

Wade didn't have a good answer. "She's… content. You destroyed her, Uncle Rhett, but she's found a way to make a life for herself." He smiled in spite of himself. "Her life suits her."

"Always lands on her feet," Rhett muttered. "I can guess why you're here."

"Uncle Rhett, you know from my father's will that I'm to go to Harvard."

"Your mother wanted you to go to the University of Georgia."

Wade sighed and started an oft-repeated litany. "My father went to Harvard, Uncle Henry went to Harvard, and now it's my turn."

"Well, I don't need to fight your mother's battles for her, and you've clearly made your decision. You'll be eighteen by next fall and you can enroll yourself. What do you need from me?"

"Mother's finances are such that she needs to sell the Atlanta house in order to afford it."

"That's ridiculous. I gave her an enormous sum to get rid of her," Rhett answered, continuing in a mumble, "If only that would work twice." He took a drink from his glass.

"She's kept the bulk of it invested," said Henry. "She's using the income to support about three dozen people as well as to finance her current enterprises."

"That's the problem," said Rhett. "Tell her to cut off the freeloaders."

"You know she won't do that," snapped Henry, wondering if Rhett considered him to be one of the freeloaders.

"Ah yes, her self-imposed penance for her treatment of Melanie Wilkes. How is the wooden-headed widower these days?"

Wade exchanged looks with Uncle Henry and cleared his throat. "Uncle Ashley and Beau moved to Charlotte. He's working for one of the big banks out there."

"Ah-ha, so that is where your mother is?"

Wade said, "No," even as Uncle Henry said, "Perhaps."

Uncle Rhett refreshed his glass and took a long pull at it. "That's one city off the list. Only a few hundred to go, now." A reflective look passed over his face and he murmured, "Odd that she didn't follow him."

Wade blushed, realizing he'd been tricked. He resolved not to answer any more questions, certainly not about his mother. "Please, Uncle Rhett. You know neither of you ever wants to set foot in the Atlanta house again. Just sign the paperwork and let it go."

Rhett sighed, tired with the conversation. He was tired of most things these days. He pointed with the hand holding the glass, leaning upon the desk with his other elbow. "You tell your mother that she knows how to get me to sell the house, and that's the only way you'll get your money. She loves money so much; I can't understand why she didn't jump at it in the beginning."

"You still never figured out what she really wanted," said Henry.

Wade's face got very red. "I told you she's content. You have this beautiful house and Mrs. Butler is very pretty. Do you really have to find Mother? Do you really have to hurt her again? Can't you be happy to just leave her alone?"

"That is between me and her," said Rhett, drawing his words out even further than the lazy Charleston drawl would. "You tell her. She can take it or leave it."

Wade got very angry. "No gentleman would treat a lady as you've treated her."

"I'm well acquainted with that fact. It has nothing to do with either of us, being neither a gentleman nor a lady."

Wade stood up and prepared to leave. "I was once under a different impression about you and how you felt about my mother. Maybe you never loved her at all."

As they left the house, Henry said, "Maybe we could sell one of your father's warehouses."

"Mother would kill me, "said Wade.

Henry ran his fingers through his beard. "We'll have to send her a telegram. She said she wants to know, whatever he says."

"This will kill Mother," said Wade sadly.

"It's the prerogative of mothers to sacrifice for their children, Wade. Accept it a little longer while you're still her child."

Rhett silently followed them to the door, hoping to hear something useful. He was disappointed in that, but at least he knew they would be contacting Scarlett. He went to his study and sat down. His head felt heavy. Wade's last comment to Rhett hit harder than the boy realized.

November 1874, Atlanta

Rhett let himself into the Peachtree Street house. The door groaned at being pushed open. It hadn't been used in a while and a summer of moisture had swollen the wood so that it stuck. When he got inside, he realized the house was empty, had been empty for weeks. The furniture was gone, and there wasn't even a feeling of people having been in it recently. Where had they gone? Where was Scarlett?

He walked up the stairs and started in Scarlett's grand ballroom. He recalled that first crush. She'd been so excited for it and so sad when the old guard hadn't succumbed to her new-found wealth. He chuckled a little as he came down to the second floor. He looked into the various bedrooms. The nursery looked so bare without the cribs and little beds. Wade's room did as well. The guest rooms hardly felt different to him without furniture. They were devoid of any character to begin with.

He stood in Scarlett's bedroom, the room that had originally been his as well, and caught a remnant of lemon verbena that she had used, desperate to remember her mother in some small way. A pang of longing went through him as he wondered where she had gone. He'd thought that he would find her here, that she would welcome him back as she had on their anniversary in July. There had been moments of happiness when they shared this room. Perhaps they might have reclaimed it now, after he explained what had happened.

He went into his own bedroom, the place where he'd seen her last. He wondered if there was any way to make her understand that he had to leave, that he couldn't stay. There had been other people to consider. He was determined to try to explain, although the shriek he'd heard as he had let himself out of the house in July told him it would never work.

He found an envelope on the mantlepiece.

Dear Captain Butler (the letter read), It's my understanding that you have no desire to return to this house. I have arranged for every room to be crated and stored at the Hamilton warehouses. I will be taking a few pieces with me, and some are earmarked for Wade and Ella, but most of it will be there for you to take what you like. Uncle Henry will be looking for buyers, and then if I understand the settlement, we can split the proceeds. Sincerely, Katie Scarlett O'Hara.

How could she be so impersonal? Hadn't he meant anything to her? Where was the love she'd professed less than a year ago and again, not even four months past? He went straight to Pittypat Hamilton's house, which Wade Hamilton and Beau Wilkes owned jointly. After throwing the house into an uproar and putting Pitty into hysterics, he finally understood from India that Scarlett had left town almost two months before with no forwarding address.

Next he'd gone to Tara. The servants convinced him that Scarlett wasn't there, but he wouldn't leave, sure someone knew where to find her. Will Benteen finally came to speak to him.

"Are you hiding my wife from me?" Rhett challenged him.

"As I hear it, your wife is in Charleston," said Will.

"You know who I want."

"If you're looking for Scarlett O'Hara, you won't find her. She's long gone. If she wants to contact you, she will."

In almost five and a half years, Rhett had never been able to find her, although he kept looking.

Rhett woke up to a gentle tapping on his arm. His valet handed him a telegram.

"GOD'S NIGHTGOWN, RHETT. ONLY YOU WOULD PUNISH THE CHILDREN FOR YOUR OWN MISTAKES."

The important part was in the signature. "Kate McLure, Tara Farm, Dixon County, Texas"


A/N: This story is not a songfic, but as the title and every chapter title will indicate, there is definitely a playlist. Many will be torch songs from the 1930s and 1940s, but as some of you will know, "All My Exes" was sung by George Strait and written by Lyndia and Sanger Shafer. "Georgia on My Mind" was written by the immortal Hoagy Carmichael and was sung by many, but I think most would agree the quintessential cover was done by Ray Charles.