Okay, here we are again. This post was originally part of one of the earlier chapters, but then took on a life of its own as I was writing it, forcing me to add content before and change up some of the content that comes later. (shrugs) Sometimes the characters tell the writers what to do instead of the other way around. Thank you again for all of the wonderful reviews. I finally found the area in my settings so I can respond to signed reviews and "caught up" on most of those, but to all the guests who are reviewing, thank you as well. Hopefully this chapter was worth the wait. Scarlet.

Chapter Six

Nearly a week had passed since her most recent confinement and Scarlett, seeking solitude (and a break from Pitty's constant chatter), struggled against her pain and made her way to the wide front porch that spanned the Peachtree Street home. She reveled in the fresh air and peacefulness while watching Wade play in the yard. He called to her and she waved with her right hand, smiling as the boy continued to romp on the hobby horse Uncle Peter had made for him. As she turned her gaze to the street, she saw a dark figure on a horse making its way down the street. Her eyes narrowed and she recognized the broad shoulders, trim waist and wide-brimmed hat that bespoke the imminent arrival of Rhett Butler. She hadn't seen him in nearly two months but didn't want him to see her in her fallen state. She knew however, that she would never be able to rise and escape to the house before he reached the gate. Bracing herself for his arrival, she smoothed her skirts. A few moments later, he pulled up at the gate and dismounted.

"Why, Scarlett, I am quite surprised to find you at home in the middle of the day. I had heard in town that you managed to acquire a second mill. I fully expected to find you tending to that mill instead of lounging at home?"

"Hi, Unca' Rhett!" Wade called excitedly, preventing Scarlett from responding.

"Well, hello there, Wade Hampton. Don't you just make a fine horseman?"

Rhett opened the gate and entered the yard, not bothering to wait for an invitation. He tousled Wade's chestnut hair before the small boy raced away.

"Wouldn't you agree, Mrs. Kenn…" he broke off suddenly, finally aware of her injury. He closed the distance to the porch and climbed the stairs quickly. Dropping his usual imperious tone, he continued more simply: "What happened to your arm, Scarlett?"

"I, uh, I… tripped on the stairs and fell." Scarlett stumbled, uncomfortable with the lie. The thought of the true cause of her injury brought fresh tears to her eyes and she blinked rapidly to keep them at bay.

"The stairs, you say, that's very unlike you, Scarlett. I seem to recall you being very light on your feet."

Rhett let the unspoken question hang between them as the silence stretched, punctuated occasionally by sounds of Wade's play. He searched her face until her eyes finally met his; he raised an eyebrow questioningly but found only sadness in response.

"I was, I was….." she looked around for an explanation, her eyes falling on her son at play. "I was rushing to Wade… he was having a nightmare and crying and I didn't stop for a lantern so it was dark…"

"I thought you said you tripped on the stairs. Isn't Wade's bedroom on the same floor as yours?"

"Well…" she stammered, "yes, it is but…"

"Scarlett," Rhett warned, "don't lie to me. You are a terrible liar and I will always know when you do. Please," he continued more gently, "just tell me the truth….."

The silence stretched between them. Scarlett chewed on her bottom lip; she was very tempted by the thought of unburdening herself to Rhett. But at the same time, she couldn't bring herself to speak the words. To admit to how she had so terribly messed up her life. How her impulsiveness and singlemindedness had led her to this moment and that there were many times when these days seemed far darker than her worst hunger-filled days at Tara.

"Oh, Rhett, please," she spoke softly, but the plea was clear in her voice. "Please, just, let's not speak of it." Her fingers played with a row of lace on her lap nervously. "Please, let's just talk of other things."

He searched her face, reading the anguish it held and a cold pit of dread settled deep in his stomach. His fists clenched and unclenched and he swallowed the anger that filled him. He really wasn't sure what he had expected her to confess (although in the very recesses of his mind, he knew that he had been suspecting this truth for quite some time), but her refusal to confess at all brought this brutal truth to the forefront and as his mind embraced that truth, he struggled to control the rage that filled him.

Unaware of the emotion he was corralling, Scarlett continued: "Please Rhett, let's talk of something fun. Tell me of where you've been. I've been listening to Aunt Pitty all week. One of your adventures would be a wonderful distraction."

Taking deep breaths to quell his emotions, he scanned her appearance once again – noting her still too thin frame and still too pale pallor until resting on the fabric that supported her arm.

"Come away with me."

He blurted out the words before he even realized that they had been born from his own mind. Once the thought was out in the open, he embraced it and continued: "We can go anywhere. I will take care of you, Scarlett and I promise, you will never suffer with me; you will never want for anything; you will be safe, I promise. Right now. You and me… we can just leave this town and go wherever you want to go. Paris, the Bahamas, New Orleans, anywhere. We'll just hop on my horse and leave before anyone knows a thing."

He watched as hope briefly turned her eyes into gleaming emeralds until the light faded and she lowered them to stare at her lap. They both watched as her fingers fidgeted with the worn lace that decorated her simple day gown. Her shoulders sunk in defeat and a sigh escaped her.

"Oh, Rhett," she continued after a long moment had passed. "What a wonderful daydream, but I have Wade…"

"We'll take him with us."

"… and Aunt Pitty to consider…"

"She has Henry and Uncle Peter."

"… and I, I would need time to pack…"

"I'll buy you whatever you need – and then some."

"… and I have to take care of Tara."

"We'll send money to Tara for whatever they need."

Her vivid green eyes met his dark ones, widening with the energy found in their dark depths. She looked back down at her hand, still fingering the worn lace.

"And what about Frank?" Her words were barely louder than a soft whisper.

"I'll kill him if I have to…. But I promise, you won't ever have to worry about him again."

Her eyes jumped up to meet the growling anger laced in his final statement. She chewed on her bottom lip for a brief moment while she took in his caged energy. His powerful presence promised to take from her all of her burdens and to carry them with ease. She took in the dull, ever-present ache accompanied with each breath. She met his burning, dark gaze and without any further thoughts toward the future or consequences, she nodded her head imperceptibly.

Rhett paused for a beat, only a quick, sharp intake of breath giving evidence to his surprise at her acceptance. Pushing back his surprise, he returned to action. Moving closer to her, he held out his hand to assist her with rising.

"Mrs. Kennedy," he spoke loudly, his baritone carrying clearly, "come with me to inspect the new stallion I have recently acquired."

Scarlett looked at him, her confusion written clearly across her features. He winked at her in answer, while guiding her to the stairs. She leaned against his strength as they made their way slowly down the stairs.

"Wade," Rhett called as they reached the walk, "come with us to see my new horse. His name is Allegro." The small boy raced with excitement to join them.

Rhett opened the gate and as the trio approached the horse, its size seemed to resonate with Wade. The shy boy moved to stand behind his mother, his tiny hands fisting in her soft brown skirts. Rhett knelt so he was at eye level with the frightened child.

"Now, Wade, there's nothing to fear from Allegro," he assured. "He's a fine horse and you are a fine horseman. I know he will perform wonderfully for you. How about I lift you up and you can show me your fine seat?" He held his arms out and Wade moved readily into them.

"Rhett, I don't know…" Scarlett said hesitantly. "He hasn't ridden…"

"Don't worry, Scarlett. I have him." He hoisted the boy up into the saddle and handed him the reins. Wade's four-year old legs barely met the bottom of the saddle, but he smiled proudly.

Rhett, with one hand on the reins, and another firmly gripping the boy's waist, clucked softly to the horse. Slowly, he guided the horse away from the fence and down the street. Wade waved excitedly as they passed Mrs. Meade, who waved back before she realized what she was reacting to.

Scarlett followed slightly behind, worriedly watching her son atop the great beast. They reached the end of the street and she frowned as Rhett continued around the corner.

'Oh, why is Rhett wasting time with this leisurely walk. Wade will just have to get used to the horse. We can't spend forever on this…. We are supposed to be leaving.'

Scarlett's thoughts were interrupted as she rounded the corner to find that Rhett had stopped the horse and was waiting for her. She hadn't realized how much distance had grown between them until she saw that there were several homes spanning the distance between herself and where they waited. She tried to quicken her pace, but the ache in her side intensified and she slowed immediately. She watched them as she approached and saw Wade reach down and pet the animal casually.

'Well, at least he is no longer afraid. Now we can go back and get going,' she thought.

Rhett scanned her face and watched her movements as she approached, reading the pain that their short journey had wrought. The blood seemed to have drained from her face and her breaths came in short, laboured gasps. His eyes narrowed as he tried to determine where her other injuries lay. He knew that surely a simple arm injury could not pull so much strength from her.

"Scarlett," he said softly once she neared, "let me lift you up to ride behind Wade."

She eyed the tall, black beast questioningly. "Rhett, I don't think I can…. I mean, I can't hold on very well with one hand, and I'm not wearing a riding habit."

"Don't worry," he laughed slightly at her concerns of propriety. "We are not going to go faster than a walk so I'm sure you'll manage almost as well as our fine young jockey, Wade. Come here."

He guided the horse to the nearest fence post. "Now, Wade, my son, I need to take the reins for a minute. I need you to use both hands and hold fast to that pommel."

"Okay, Unca' Rhett."

"And I need you move up as close as you can to the front of the saddle. I know you're a big boy, but I need you to make some room for your mother."

He held the reins while the boy squirmed forward, thankful that the horse he had won earlier this week was such a well-behaved beast. 'Sargent Cooper must really be cursing his luck after losing such a magnificent animal,' he thought smugly. He stroked the animal's neck softly in reward for its behaviour.

Tying the reins loosely to the fence, he waved Scarlett closer. He manouevered her until her back was toward the animal and she faced him. She raised her chin slightly and met his eyes nervously.

"Don't worry," he reassured, "I'm going to lift you up and set you on the saddle. You just will have to reach around Wade with your good hand to hold the pommel until I hand you the reins."

"Shouldn't we turn around first?" she asked. "It would be easier for me if you turn the horse first before I get on and we head back."

"Head back? Why would you think we are going back?" He tried to keep the surprise from his features.

"Well, we are…. We are just helping Wade get used to the horse."

"Well, yes we are." He answered and then leaned closer. "But our little walk with Allegro is not going to bring us back to Peachtree. We are headed to the National and then we are leaving this town. This little stroll is the beginning of our escape."

"But, but… but we are going so slow."

"Yes we are, but don't you know that those who move as though they have no hurry in their step, draw the least amount of attention?" He raised an eyebrow and then smiled as he saw recognition fill her features. "Now brace yourself while I lift you up."

He took a step closer and in a single fluid motion, grasped her waist and hoisted her up. Before he had raised her more than a few inches, her sharp cry of pain filled the air and he returned her to her feet. Tears had appeared almost simultaneously with the moment his hands had gripped her. As he released her, she bent over slightly. Her right hand cradled her left as she blew shallow breaths between her pursed lips.

"Christ, Scarlet," he swore vehemently. He eyed her before continuing, "how badly injured are your ribs?"

Her eyes remained closed and she swallowed visibly, but he could tell that she was still in too much pain to speak.

"You need to tell me these things!" he upbraided her through clenched teeth. "I might have seriously hurt you right now. I can't take care of you if you don't talk to me."

A tear traced a path along her cheek and he ran an agitated hand through his hair. Stepping back, he blew out his breath forcefully. Returning to her side, he rested a hand on her shoulder and brushed away the tear from her cheek. He tipped her chin up and she swallowed again before finally opening her eyes. Her breathing had slowed to a more natural pace and he took it as a sign that he hadn't aggravated her injury too much.

"We should just go back." Her words were so soft he might not have known she had spoken if he hadn't been watching her lips. He hated the defeated look that filled her eyes.

"Nonsense, my dear," he paused briefly as the errant thought entered his mind. "Unless you weren't serious about leaving with me."

She searched his face but found his expression unreadable. 'Maybe he has already realized that I am too much of a burden,' she thought. Finding no answers in his unreadable gaze, she lowered her eyes.

"N-no," she answered hesitantly, "but I'm afraid that I can't travel very far. I can't even make it around the block." Her voice rose shrilly with this last statement.

After her small outburst, she peered up before quickly dropping her eyes again and meekly added: "It's too much for me to ask of you."

He clucked softly, almost in imitation to his earlier treatment of the horse. "My dear, I promise you I can manage anything you ask of me. All I ask of you is that you tell me all there is to know, tell me all that you are asking of me."

She looked up and her appreciation was clearly evident on her features. Appreciation and relief and he recognized that his previous long-held estimations of her wholly selfish character were wrong, or at the very least slightly flawed. He looked around then and noticed that they were starting to draw a bit of attention.

"There is a new tea room that just recently opened around the corner," he spoke after a moment of thought. "It's only about a block and a half away; do you think you can make it?"

She nodded silently.

"Good. We will walk there and then you and Wade will enjoy a treat while I ride to the National and arrange a carriage for our travels." He held out his arm for her before continuing: "hold my arm so I can keep track of you. I don't want Wade and I to get too far ahead."

The short walk was painstakingly slow for Rhett, but he knew that the pace was the limit of what Scarlett could handle. The sound of her quick, shallow breaths reached his ears and on several occasions when he glanced her way, he noticed her eyes closed against the pain.

Arriving at the café, he helped Wade down from his high seat and guided the pair to a discreet table off to the side. Pulling out a chair, he helped Scarlett into her seat.

"Come with me, Master Hamilton," he intoned to the small boy still holding his hand. "You can help me pick something out for you and your mother."

The small boy smiled with a four-year-old's enthusiasm for the special fare offered by the café. Excitement punctuated his steps and Rhett allowed the child's naivety to briefly push the circumstances to the back of his mind.

The pair made a path to Scarlett's table – she sat with her back to the corner and Rhett noted satisfactorily that the table almost completely hid the cloth that supported her arm. Wade walked slowly, the plate holding his precious pastry clutched surely in both hands. Rhett balanced a water glass for the boy, with a coffee and sticky bun for the boy's mother.

"Now you two take your time and enjoy your treat and I will return as quickly as I can." With a quick rustle of Wade's chestnut locks, he strode purposefully towards his horse and disappeared in a cloud of dust.

Scarlett sipped on her coffee and tried in vain not to let her thoughts wander. Too quickly however she found herself dwelling on her current situation, realizing that she didn't truly know what her current circumstances entailed.

'Rhett asked me to go away with him and I agreed, but what does that mean,' she asked herself. 'Have I just thrown away the last chance of me ever being a great lady?'

These questions lead her to the thought that perhaps she shouldn't continue to follow the path that she had just begun with Rhett and Wade. These thoughts then brought her to what her life would be like should she just leave this little tea room and return to Frank. Her ribs ached as soon as his name crossed her thoughts. How had she ended up in this terrible land of dilemmas; a choice between an uncertain future and a certainly terrible present.

A soft thump-thump sounded, interrupting her thoughts. Before she could process the sound, it happened again, but this time it was concurrent with a slight jostling of the table. The third time the table moved more causing her coffee to slosh over the rim of the cup, soiling the pretty white table cloth.

"Great balls, Wade Hampton!" she hissed through clenched teeth, her voice barely above a whisper. "Look what you've done? Now, sit still!"

"Yes, mama," the small boy answered, hanging his head and stilling his swinging legs.

The pair sat in awkward silence for several minutes, Scarlett scanning the other patrons and passers-by for familiar faces. Finding none, she returned her focus to her son, noticing that he was still sitting quietly, eyes on his hands clasped together in his lap.

"Wade, why aren't you eating your pastry? Don't you like it?" she asked, oblivious to his discomfort at having been chastised.

"Yes, mama," he answered softly.

Scarlett took a sip of her coffee, but when her son didn't begin eating, she finally realized that he was still upset from her admonishment. 'He is even more timid than when we lived at Tara,' she thought, recognizing yet another reason for her to continue into this uncertain future.

"Wade, dear," she spoke softly, "I'm sorry that I got upset but this is a very nice place, mostly for grown-ups, and when you were swinging your legs you caused my coffee to spill. Who knows, if it had been worse, they might have asked us to leave before Uncle Rhett could come back to fetch us. Now eat your pastry; it looks delicious."

The boy straightened, nodded and returned to eating his treat. The pair sat in companionable silence, both happy to quietly observe the comings and goings along the street.

For his part, Rhett's mind worked in tandem to the racing of his horse. They would first travel north, he had decided. They could not travel very far in a carriage – the little he knew about Scarlett's condition told him that much – and all of the reasonable destinations south were far too familiar to both himself and Scarlett. And boarding the train at the depot in Atlanta was completely out of the question. No, if he was going to spirit Scarlett away, they would need to remain unseen and there was no way of achieving that feat at the busy depot. They would travel north to Marietta – it would be a stretch in a carriage especially since it was nearly noon, but they would make it so long as they didn't have to make too many stops. He would have to ensure that the carriage team he secured was suited for long distances.

'Food,' he thought, 'I will ask the kitchen at the hotel to pack us a basket to bring along.'

Mentally, he counted the cash he had on hand, satisfied that he had enough to arrange for all the extras and to include a satisfactory tip to ensure it all came together quickly. He would be able to draw more funds from the bank once they reached Marietta. He also recalled that there was a small shop across from the National; he would make a quick stop there to purchase a few items to help occupy Scarlett's young son for the long ride.

Briefly, the thought to question what he was getting himself into crossed his mind, inserting itself between the symphony of his organization in sharp discord. His carefree bachelorhood was about to become a piece of history and he considered that he was about to become saddled with a fair amount of responsibility. His debate quickly ended as visions of Scarlett's tear-streaked face pushed his questions aside.

He arrived at the National and handed the reins over to the waiting stable boy, tipping him graciously to ensure the fine beast was properly and thoroughly groomed and bedded down. He would include funds for the horse's care as well. He paused at the desk and made all his necessary arrangements with the manager. He quickly climbed the stairs to his room to prepare for their departure. Changing first into more comfortable travel attire, he then packed a few necessities, leaving the rest for the hotel staff to pack up as he had arranged. A trek across the street added a trio of parcels to his solitary travel bag. In total, less than half of an hour after arriving, he was back in the lobby watching as a pair of horses pulled a closed carriage to the entrance guided by a skinny negro barely out of his teens. The carriage quickly departed the walkway at the National and made its way toward the small café on Tenth Street. Finally, his carriage made its way down the cobble stone street that would lead to his pirate's booty.

So...? Thoughts on this latest update? Hope it was worth the wait. Thank you for reading, SS.