Chapter 14

Ashley was waiting for Rhett at the head of the stairs, his hands clenched behind his back and his legs braced wide apart. It was obvious he had been watching the ship's cargo load from the upstairs window of the townhouse.

"Quite a few gun barrels on your ship," Ashley remarked carefully. "And powder too, underneath all those woolens and laces."

"Spoils of war," Rhett informed him, raising an eyebrow at the man's apparent curiosity. "Serving two masters has its privileges, Mr. Wilkes. I carry the Yankee guns for them, the South gets her niceties."

"While you further enable the Yankees to destroy us?"

"Why us, Ashley? Since you are no longer enlisted, you've no need to feel obligated to the dear old South."

Ashley looked ill. "I agreed to go with you to look for Scarlett and Melly and your sister. I left word of my intentions with my superior, who according to the paper was killed in action. I am no deserter, Butler!"

"Well, you're listed as missing, presumed dead…why not take advantage of it? After all, the war can't last too much longer."

"I am not," Ashley repeated. "…a deserter."

"And yet you're here with me rather than with your men. My appeal to chivalry overcame even your scruples. See what the teachings of the South have borne in you?"

Ashley faced him squarely. "I will return to my regiment once we ascertain their safety."

"You long for death that much?"

"Perhaps when you experience combat for yourself, Butler, you will understand."

Rhett shook his head in rejection of the other man's words. "I lived rough in California, Wilkes. In the goldfields. Chivalry counts for nothing then. Men falling all around you, dead from disease or fights or mines blowing up. Ethics be damned. Injured get a swig of rotgut, put 'em in the shade, patch them up in the end. The ones that make it prosper. The ones who don't, die."

"And you prospered?"

Rhett shrugged. "I'm still alive."

Ashley sniffed. "One thing is certain, Butler. Whichever side wins, there is a great deal more bloodshed to come."

"You're not squeamish, are you Ashley?" Rhett smirked.

"No, Butler. I simply see it as a waste of the highest order."

"Then, Mr. Wilkes, we agree on something."

The sudden wail of the baby upstairs pierced the silence between the two men, and Ashley rolled his eyes. "He just went to sleep. The girl fed and changed him and I've been holding him the last half an hour. What else does an infant require?"

Rhett cackled gleefully. "Attention. I guess it's me he's calling for."

"You're fond of him, aren't you?" Ashley remarked dryly.

"Ah, you guessed my guilty secret."

Ashley looked at Rhett narrowly. "I trust that you will contain your affections to the child and not his mother."

"Why should a married man such as yourself express such a concern?" Rhett leisurely raised an eyebrow. "I need not ask if you mind. Your feelings on the matter are quite apparent."

"She's married to my cousin. My family honor-"

"Your family honor be damned, Ashley. I bet it's nice for you to keep her in the family-"

"How you dare?"

"I dare, Ashley Wilkes, because it's a true statement."

"Because you care for her?"

Rhett's jaw hardened.

"Well if you won't answer me that, then I'll pose another question. You clearly have pull within the Yankee command. Why not rescue them yourself? Why drag me into your web?"

Rhett tossed his head. "If you must know, I needed you dead. Well, not really dead. Just dead on paper. I know your wife, and even Scarlett to some extent. They won't rock the boat without a good reason. But you are conveniently leaving out one crucial point in my defense, paltry though it may seem to your more refined sensibilities. Your unit was front and center the day you left. The tent you would have been sleeping in is now six foot deep in a crater from cannon fire. The man with whom you left the note is dead, and not merely on paper. I should think you'd be a little more grateful to the agent of your reprieve."

Ashley drew in a deep breath "And when I am resurrected, what then?"

"I could give a damn what you do. If I were you, I'd take Mrs. Wilkes to Nassau and start a new life. Return when this damned war is over. But you seem to enjoy self-sacrifice, Mr. Wilkes. So do what you will. I need to see to the boy before he wakes the neighborhood. Excuse me."

. . . .

The days sped past, and with each new day, Scarlett found herself more restless and anxious for the arrival of the appointed day when Captain Flynn would again offer her the chance to return to Richmond. Rosemary had written Rhett, but, getting no response, had fairly given up on him. "Indeed," she had said, "I can just imagine him in the isles of Tripoli, bronzed from the sun with not a care in the world while we're slaving away for the Yankees. Flynn being the worst of the lot. " It was not too difficult for Rosemary to avoid the busy captain, yet far too often for her comfiture, she was forced to serve as his assistant. But for all three of the women, each still ardent supporters of the Confederacy, their work in the hospital gave rise to broader internal conflicts. The moans of pain echoed by the men were the same ones echoed by the boys in grey: each one could have been Charles, or Luke, or Ashley…

"We should not complain so," Melly said calmly as she placed the finishing touches on a wounded man's bandaged arm. "Captain Flynn has been very kind. Kinder than most Yankees would be, I should imagine."

"Kind," Rosemary scoffed. "Damned bluebelly." But she said no more on the subject in Melly's hearing. The days had not been kind to her since they had received the terrible news of Ashley, and a certain animosity had formed between Melly and the other two; more than once, Rosemary and even Scarlett had felt the sting of her reproof.

"One of these days," Melly predicted, "you'll be very grateful to Captain Flynn for what he has done for us. And as for the men we are serving…I only hope that Ashley was granted the same care before he…" And then she had fled the room, her hand clasped desperately across her mouth in an effort to hold back her tears.

Time progressed, and one evening, the moment Scarlett had been dreading came to pass. While Rosemary was dozing peacefully in the supply room, Scarlett was summoned to the office. There had already been a train of ambulances before the hospital doors and the orderlies were unloading wounded by the score that night, and she was grateful for the reprieve at that particular moment - all the blood and gore was making her stomach sick.

It was already late in the evening when Scarlett knocked on the door and announced herself to the doctor.

"Come in, Mrs. Hamilton," she heard his voice, and opened the portal to find him lying down on the small cot in the back of the room.

"Apologies, ma'am," he stood up and brushed the dust off his trousers. "I must remain awake to meet with my replacement. He arrives tomorrow or the next day, but I know not what hour."

Scarlett shrugged. "If you would prefer me to return later…?"

"No, Mrs. Hamilton, I'm glad you're here. How…how is Mrs. Wilkes faring?"

Scarlett shook her head, not sure how to answer. Melly seemed alright physically; in truth, she did. But her cheeks were an unhealthy pallor and she barely ate enough to keep a bird alive, despite the plentiful portions they were afforded by their Yankee captors. "Truthfully, I cannot say. She claims that she's fine, that she's just tired. But Rose and I see…"

"She's broken-hearted?" the Captain answered for her. "Poor lady. I knew the news would go hard on her. I just wish that there was something I could do to afford her some comfort."

"Melly suffers in silence," Scarlett said, with no trace of condescension in her voice. "She always has, as long as I've known her."

"How long have you been acquainted?"

She thought on the question hard. "We saw each other intermittently as children. Every other summer or so. Ashley - her husband - Ashley's family lived in the County, just miles away from Tara. Tara's my-"

"Plantation?" Flynn answered for her. "I understand you, Mrs. Hamilton. So, will the two of you return to Georgia upon your release?"

"I have to get my boy," Scarlett said. "I'm not even sure where he is. But I have to find him before I go home."

"I see," Flynn ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame it. "Your situation sounds dire, Miss Scarlett. I wonder that you have not tried to escape?"

Escape? Wherever would they have gone. "I don't see your meaning, Captain Flynn."

"The three of you have remained remarkably poised during our time together, even Miss Rosemary. You've done everything I've asked of you and more. You've assisted the other physicians and myself most admirably and without complaint. Dare I say it, the three of you seem quite…content?"

"I am not!" Scarlett whirled in high agitation. "Content! Fiddle-dee-dee! I wish you Yankees would just get your war over with so that I can go home!"

"Far be it for me to speak on behalf of my superiors, but I do believe we're doing the best we can. Perhaps you should send a letter to your President Davis, urge him to speed things along."

"Oh he wouldn't listen even if I…but it's the Cause…you wouldn't understand."

"I'm afraid I've never understood the nature of your illustrious Cause, would you like to explain it to me, Mrs. Hamilton?"

"Why its…its…Oh it doesn't matter what it is. Just the sooner we've licked you the better so the rest of us can get back to doing things the way they were before!"

"I think that Jeff Davis has other sentiments, Mrs. Hamilton. He'll draw it out to the bitter end; see if I'm wrong. And you know what? He'll be able to do it too, because his commanders are brilliant and ours are inept, despite our strength in numbers."

"Oh, I'm sick to death of hearing about how brilliant they are! Getting us into this mess. Ashley, dead. Why if I had known that Rhett was right about it all, I'd…"

Captain Flynn's eyebrows raised, he stared at her as her voice trailed off.

"Rhett?…Surely not…Rhett Butler?"

Scarlett folded her arms underneath her chest. "Yes, Rhett Butler. But how do you…you know of Rhett?"

"Not personally, but I've heard of him. Not a very patriotic Southerner. Surely he's not related to our Miss Rosemary? Yes? Oh my…well, I suppose she has enough steam for the both of them. But he's a millionaire by now, I'd say. And our boys are glad to keep him in business. I'll be damned…Rhett Butler."

"I'm glad you're so amused."

"That's it. That's just it, Mrs. Hamilton. I've been trying to conjure up a safe passage for you ladies into Confederate territory and you've just informed me that the answer's been under my very nose. You can take a train to Baltimore tomorrow morning and board the Intrepid. It's Butler's own vessel, though I'm not certain he'll be sailing it."

"All of us, you mean?"

"You and Mrs. Wilkes. I'll get you passes that state that you're attending her husband's funeral. It's a very sound plan."

"What about Rosemary?"

"She'll accompany me to Washington. I'll see that the charges against her are dropped and I'll send her to the Confederate line as soon as I learn of a prisoner exchange."

"How often are those?"

"Several times a month. She'll be safe until then, believe me."

"I should speak to Melly-"

"You must agree, Mrs. Hamilton. I beg you to trust me. If you do not, your cases will be out of my hands completely."

She nodded lamely.

"So you'll go?"

Again she nodded.

Captain Flynn looked momentarily triumphant, then stood up. "I've rounds to make. Try to get some sleep, Mrs. Hamilton."

The doctor moved passed her, but no sooner had opened his office door when the medical sergeant appeared at its threshold, fist poised to knock.

"Apologies, Captain. There's a gentleman here to see you. He's a-waiting in the vestibule for you."

"Not now," Flynn began tersely.

"He says it's urgent, Doc. Claims it can't hold off till morning."

A frown appeared on Flynn's face, mystified that he was by such an impromptu summons. "Is he an officer?"

The sergeant shook his head. "I didn't recognize him. He just said it was urgent business, sir."

Flynn sighed and pulled out his pocket watch. "I have only minutes to spare. Tell this mysterious gentleman that I will be down directly. Mrs. Hamilton, good evening."

A/N: Hope you've enjoyed Part 2 of this Chapter. Please review, if you would be so kind, and let me know what you think!