A/N- Wow, I didn't realize that so many people enjoyed my story. Thank you!

Okay, I have made a mistake in interpreting some key information in my ficcy and decided I should probably clear it all up. (Takes out broom)

I know a lot of my readers are like, 'wow, Scarlett is kinda stupid cause she didn't figure out that Rhett's her husband yet cause of Bonnie's horse.' Well, I had that same though when writing this and came to a conclusion a few months ago.

If you go back to chappie seventeen, Rhett introduces himself as Rhett Kinnicut, failing to use his last name and instead replacing it with his middle name because he didn't want Scarlett to remember their past in a way and just sorta blurted it out. I'll get more into his reasoning in previous chapters.

And about Bonnie's hair color, that was just a pretty dumb move on my part. I had forgotten. Haha.

On to Chapter Twenty-one!

Disclaimer: Gone with the Wind is not mine. All relations come from Mrs. Margaret Mitchell's novel Gone with the Wind. (And some background from Alexandra Ripley's novel Scarlett)

Chapter Twenty-One

Scarlett had wakened in her bed the next sunrise, uncertain of how she got there. She remembered that she had been on the veranda after the awful nightmare she had and began weeping, clutching onto Rhett. That was the moment she realized that they were very much in tune with each other's feelings. Rhett had held her that night, crying along with her.

She shook her head as she remembered what he had told her. 'Careen wasn't truthful with you. You were married thrice, you third husband is still alive my darling.' If she had a husband, why wasn't he here with her? Why wasn't he there when the carriage gave way in the pouring rain? Where was he when she needed him most? Needed him to help trigger a memory doctors had told her would most likely never return.

What had happened that when he received the news of her accident that he didn't care in the least, tossing the 'affair' aside as if it were an old worn out shoe? What had they done to each other? Had they fought, or had he been abusive? What? She didn't remember!

Scarlett thought back to the beautiful dark haired seraph she had seen in the garden eating the berries. She had a third husband and that was Bonnie's father, she knew. That would explain why Bonnie looked so much different from her other two children. Of course Scarlett though her other children were beautiful, but Bonnie was different. Bonnie's features were delicate yet had a deep, hidden rough side to them which made her look gorgeous. Her skin was the color of her mother's, but she must have inherited her father's dark eyes.

Scarlett pulled the covers up over her head, enjoying the warmth the sheets and coverlet provided and closed her eyes. She didn't want to see anyone, she didn't want to get up, all she desired was to stay put and think things over. Think about who she was, what she was.

Scarlett grunted as she rolled onto her stomach, reaching her hand under the right side of the bed. Her hands roamed over spare books, and scraps of paper before she felt a frame. Pulling it out from under the bed, she never took her eyes off the handsome portrait. It was Mr. Rhett Kinnicut. She had found the portrait buried deep in the trunk her aunts had shipped over and had studied it every night.

What she could gather just by looking at the miniature was that he was a refined gentleman, and it was very true. He was quite the debonair gentleman, always kind with his actions. Scarlett sighed and pushed it back under the bed with the other numerous portraits.

Scarlett was in possession of a least a dozen miniatures and knew not who half of them were. Careen would avoid the subject whenever possible and Arlene was in the same boat. She knew no one from Scarlett's past; her only help now, was Rhett. Hopefully he could tell her one-day…

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Ella started toward her mother's room, her tiny feet moving as fast as they would carry her. It was time to jump incessantly on her mother's bed until she awoke. It was like this every morn, and just because that skunk of a stepfather was currently residing in the home, did not stop Ella from her ritual.

The smile on Ella's face was incredibly prominent as she thought of things to tell her Mama. She couldn't talk with her yesterday because Mr. Butler was around her throughout the day, and she just didn't want to socialize with such a man. She hated him, and knew no matter what happened, she would never trust him again. Even as a young child, Ella knew that once someone had lost your trust completely it was extraordinarily difficult to gain it back.

Ella ran into the nursery, grabbing the doll which she had just finished making the previous day. The doll was made out of a spare sack which had held transported fabric. Ella had sewn on some deep emerald buttons for eyes and found bits and pieces of old fabric that were no longer needed, sewing them atop the head to look like a mass of ebony curls; just like her mother. Ella had made a little dress for her hand-made doll out of lace which her mother had ripped off an old dress claiming it as 'too ostentations'.

Ella hugged the dolly to her chest, turning her upper body left and right. Ella was so proud of this messy bundle of stitches and lace, but it was more than a dolly to her. To Ella, the doll was a source of pride, a project she and her mother had worked on together. Ella had pricked her fingers many times during the task, but it didn't matter, all that mattered was that her mother loved her and lovingly aided her with an easier said than done assignment.

Excitement bubbled within Ella's minute frame as she began to jog down the hallway once more. She came close to her mother's door, holing the bundle of material in her right hand as she reached up to the doorknob with her left. She stopped moving her feet, but noticed that she continued to move and there was a hand on her back as she was spun in a half circle.

With a confused and somewhat angered expression upon her features, Ella looked upright to face her once 'Uncle Rhett'. Scrunching her nose slightly as if she were smelling something completely vile, she began to push past him, not bothering to speak an, 'excuse me'.

Rhett stopped her by crouching down and extending his arm so she walked straight into him. She bounced off of him and glared, her dull green eyes narrow slits. "I want to see my Mama." She hissed, attempting to shove him away once more to no avail.

Instead, Rhett scooped up the little girl in his arms and carried her back to her room, sitting her down on her soft, comfortable bed and kneeling in front of the outraged girl. "Ella," he asked, hurt in his dark eyes and in his deep voice, as he stared at the child who once through him as a father figure, "why do you detest me so much?"

Ella answered him by turning her face away from his and sticking up her chin. She folded her arms over her chest haughtily, clutching the handmade doll to her chest.

"Ella," Rhett said again, this time catching her chin in his large fingers and turning her face toward his. "Ella, I know you and Wade both hold me in very low esteem. I have seen you two nicer to you're enemy's." He attempted a jest and failed. "Tell you're Uncle Rhett."

A number of emotions flew across Ella's features before her face fell and tears began to fall from her eyes. "I don't have an Uncle Rhett, not anymore. The 'Uncle Rhett' I remembered would never hurt my momma, but you have. You hurt her very badly. She cried herself to sleep every night and Wade told me you did it. You made my momma cry!" Ella's depression melted away and fury spread through her tiny body like rapid fire. She hated seeing her mother cry and she especially hated the man who had caused her to do so.

Without even looking back at Rhett's astonished and grief-stricken face, Ella jumped off the bed, grabbing her toy by the arm, and ran out the door, continued down the hallway until Rhett heard Scarlett's door slam shut.

Rhett now knew when he left Scarlett he left the children too. The realization hadn't hit him until now. Now when he had hurt everyone in his family. He had to make many amends; now including the young Wade and Ella.