WHEEEE! I'm watching Braveheart, seriously one of my top favorite movies EVER. I just thought I'd mention that, lol.

Hope you like this part.

The Butlers returned to Atlanta on the third of July, after a little more than a month's stay at Tara. Scarlett had looked back on the house as the carriage rode away, and as always when she left her childhood home, she felt a pang of longing in her heart, but it was very short lived because she knew she would be back soon. Tara was hers now, and after she had the baby, she only had to mention it and she knew Rhett would take her there. Still, she was somewhat glad to be back in their house on Peachtree Street. As the weeks passed by seemingly faster and faster, the advancing state of her pregnancy was starting to become more noticeable, and Scarlett was, in a way, eager to get settled back into the familiar routine of the place where she would be delivering her first child.

"Oh, it's stuffy in this house," Scarlett exclaimed as she walked through the front door and into the spacious foyer. "Prissy, go open those drapes and some windows, the ones in the bedroom especially."

"Yes, Miz Scahlett," the young girl replied as she walked away toward the enormous dark drapes that were keeping the light from entering the house.

Rhett walked in behind Scarlett and was met by one of the other house servants who immediately started helping him and Pork with their trunks. On a small table by the door, next to a vase full of fresh flowers from the garden, there was a silver tray stacked high with the mail that had been delivered to the Butler home while Rhett and Scarlett had been at Tara. Rhett stopped to pick it up and filtered through it, looking for anything that might be of interest. He flipped through bill after bill, invitations and calling cards from Scarlett's acquaintances, a letter from Melanie Wilkes addressed to Scarlett, which he set aside, and then a letter caught his attention. It was addressed to him, and when he glanced at the return address, a light smile played across his lips. It had been sent by a friend of his whom he had not heard from in quite some time, and had not seen in even longer. Rhett looked up and glanced at his wife who was making her way up the stairs, and then back down at the letter, making the decision to read it later that night. He took the letter addressed to him and the one addressed to Scarlett, put them in the inside pocket of his light coat and followed Scarlett up the stairs to their spacious bedroom.

Scarlett was sitting at her vanity, brushing her long hair, when Rhett entered the room. "There's a letter for you from Melanie Wilkes, Scarlett," he said, pulling the letter out of his pocket and handing it to her.

Scarlett looked at the envelope Rhett had handed her and smiled. "Thank you," she said politely before taking the bronze letter opener out of her drawer where she kept various old letters, particularly love letters that Rhett had written to her over the course of their one year of marriage. "I wonder what she has to say," Scarlett said to herself as se took the finely folded stationary out of the envelope and began to scan its contents.

Rhett, meanwhile, had gone into their dressing room to change, and when he came back out he was wearing grey linen pants and a pressed blue shirt which was still unbuttoned. Scarlett looked up and smiled as he approached her. "Melanie says she's dying to visit, Rhett."

"Is she?" he chuckled and bent down to kiss Scarlett's cheek. "How are things in New York?"

"Oh, she says everything is fine. Ashley is getting along well at the bank, and Beau is growing bigger every day. She says she's met some nice people there, even though they are Yankees, but she misses her friends and family here a great deal."

"Why don't you write to her and ask her to come to Atlanta? I bet she'd be thrilled to learn about the baby," Rhett suggested kindly. Scarlett was amazed that his jealousy and malice toward Ashley Wilkes had seemed to vanish over time, and he didn't seem bothered when she mentioned him. She herself no longer thought of Melanie with jealousy. She used to when Ashley chose Melanie instead of her, but now she knew she belonged with Rhett, and she now enjoyed getting kind letters from her sister-in-law.

"Yes, maybe I will," Scarlett concluded. She put the letter back in the envelope and set it aside for later.

After dinner that night, Scarlett decided to retire to their bedroom, and Rhett informed her that he'd be along shortly. In the hallway, Rhett lit one of the oil lamps and carried it into his study. He set the lamp down on the small table by the plump sofa and sat down, enjoying the comfort of the plush cushions. First, he reached in his coat pocket and took out a cigar, lit it, and inhaled the welcome taste of the sweet tobacco, smiling as he thought of the countless times he had sat with Scarlett here on this sofa in quiet conversation, and how she would tell him she enjoyed the smell of his cigars because they reminded her of her dear father. He then proceeded to take out of his pocket the letter he had received in the mail, opened it, and began taking in the scrawling masculine script.

June 20, 1866

Rhett,

How are you, old friend? It has been quite some time since we last saw each other, and I hope this letter finds you well in all of your endeavors. I heard from an acquaintance that you had managed to make it through the war in tact, and that you were currently residing in Atlanta. Tell me, friend, do you never cease to find a location and stick with it? But I digress. The reason I am writing you this letter is because I am taking a trip to look for new Thoroughbreds to buy for breeding with my stock, and I will be in Atlanta come mid July. I would be very glad to visit you in your humble abode to converse with a dear friend, and perhaps to persuade you to join me on my adventure.

Very sincerely,

Thomas Holden

Rhett finished reading the letter with a twinkle in his dark eyes. Thomas Holden, a native of Virginia, had been his close friend during their years at West Point. Like Rhett, Thomas had much more preferred gambling, women, and mischief over the discipline of the prominent military academy, yet Rhett knew through correspondence with his friend after his own expulsion, that Thomas had made it through to graduation. Though they had not seen each other in some 20 years, they had corresponded through written letter for a few years until life took them in different directions.

He took another long drag on his cigar and chuckled to himself. So his friend had made it through the war as well, and was coming to Atlanta. And Thomas was going on a trip to buy horses. He'll go to the races, no doubt, Rhett thought to himself wile smiling and leaning back on the sofa. It seemed so long ago, and indeed it was, that he and Thomas used to go to the races on their free time. After, they'd often stop by one of the local saloons for a round of poker and a few drinks, happenings that would soon turn to habits as the addiction of profiting off of other's losses became stronger and more alluring. Rhett knew his and his friend's carousing had been considered immoral, but it had provided a certain freedom, and opened the door to new opportunities like Rhett's blockading and war profiteering over the past few years.

Again Rhett's mind wandered to the letter he was holding in his hands. "Perhaps to persuade you to join me in my adventure…" His eyes glistened in the dark and Rhett felt a surge of adrenaline rush through his body. What would it be like to feel young again, to take that one last journey? Thomas would no doubt be going to Kentucky, Virginia, and perhaps even Europe. The thrill of thinking about it made Rhett's hands fidget in excitement, and he ran his fingers over his moustache in serious contemplation. The sea, the thrill of the races, the danger of the unknown; that had been what he had thrived on before he met Scarlett.

He let out a deep breath and sank back onto the sofa. Scarlett, Scarlett. No matter how badly he had considered his friend's words, he knew the possibility of them being a reality for himself was impossible. Scarlett would have a baby in a few months and he had promised to stay with her. No, he sighed, he would receive his long lost friend in his home, but going on that trip was out of the question, and Rhett pushed the flicker of regret that had been ignited by these last thoughts to the back of his mind. He didn't know if he would tell Scarlett of his friend's proposal, but he knew tonight was not the right time.

After stubbing out his cigar and putting the letter back in the envelope, Rhett stood from the sofa and languidly made his way up the stairs to their bedroom. When he reached the door he saw Scarlett was laying on her side, facing the door, already asleep. He quietly padded over to the foot of the bed and discarded his clothing, as it was too hot, even with the large window letting in the summer breeze. He walked over to his side of the bed and put out the oil lamp that had been left burning on the nightstand. Just as he did this, Scarlett rolled over so that she was facing him, and he couldn't help but look at her as he had on so many other nights. In the moonlight her dark eyebrows and hair that spread over the pillow contrasted beautifully with her pale skin. She looked so peaceful to him, so trusting and vulnerable in the dark. He slowly got into bed and pulled the sheet up to his waist, never taking his eyes off of her face. How could I ever think of leaving you alone, he thought, bringing his fingers up to trace the soft features of her face, the curve of her milky white shoulder, her arm that rested on top of the sheet. He leaned down and placed the softest kiss on her shoulder before laying his head next to hers on the pillow and gently talking her hand in his own. "I love you," he whispered faintly into the night. Scarlett squeezed his hand back without opening her eyes, and Rhett smiled, finally allowing himself to take his eyes off of her and drift into a peaceful slumber.

XXXXXXXXX

"Rhett, will you hand me that blanket?" Scarlett asked, pointing to the light down covering that Rhett held in his hands.

"Are you cold my pet?"

"No, not really. It's just that the temperature has cooled down quite a lot since earlier, and I just want to be comfortable." Rhett walked around to the front of the lawn chair in which Scarlett sat, and which had been covered with cushions, and he spread the light blanket over her dress clad legs, tucking it snuggly around her, before returning to his own chair next to hers.

They were sitting out on the stone balcony of the veranda behind their mansion, awaiting the start of the celebratory fireworks display that was a part of the Independence Day holiday. Earlier that day, Rhett had taken Scarlett to town to watch the parade that marched down the middle of Main Street. There had been a marching band and young men and women on foot who handed out pieces of hard candy to the bright-eyed children who, along with their parents, lined both sides of the street. All of this had been amusing to Scarlett who had never before experienced a gathering quite like this one, and she was sure it could all be attributed to one or more of the Confederate circles of ladies in the city who made sure people remembered the noble Cause even after the war.

But it had been the men on decorated horseback that had captivated Scarlett's attention. These gallant soldiers, men and boys alike, who had fought for a cause that had eluded them, they looked so proud, noble even, as they rode by with their heads held high and their old gray uniforms pressed and touched up as much as possible for this occasion. Scarlett silently stood in front of Rhett and watched as the groomed men rode by. Some she recognized as the younger brothers of the men she had come to know when she first came to Atlanta during the war, but most she did not recognize at all. They all blended in to one large, slow-moving mass of gray, until an old man rode by and Scarlett's attention was immediately drawn to him. This man with his white hair and haggard beard, his felt cap sitting lightly on his head, was just a face without a name to her, but when his eyes met hers she knew he was much more. In his eyes, a fusion of blue and green, she saw her father, John Wilkes, the Tarelton boys, all of the men she knew who had in some way given their very lives so that these men here could live on. Scarlett kept her green orbs pasted on the old man's eyes, as if trying to communicate to him that she understood, in a way, what he had been through, because she had lost so much. The corners of her crimson lips turned up in an unconscious smile as the old man approached. Then, just as he passed the spot where Scarlett and Rhett stood, the old man lightly reached up and tipped his hat, nodding softly in understanding to Scarlett, before turning his gaze away.

The rest of the afternoon consisted of brief meetings with acquaintances of both Scarlett and Rhett, where they received many congratulations and approvals of Scarlett's "condition". She simply glowed, the women said, though they could not definitely tell whether the source of Scarlett's apparent elation was due to her pregnancy or the handsome man whose arm she faithfully clung to. Either way, it was decided among her fellow Atlantans that Scarlett was happy, healthy and just as beautiful, even perhaps more so, as she had been when she had come to stay with the Hamiltons a few years earlier.

"Rhett, when are the fireworks going to start?" asked Scarlett in a naïve voice. Rhett chuckled as he looked toward the horizon. The sky was a charcoal gray, the darkness was impending, and the stars shone bright above their heads.

"When it gets dark they'll start."

Scarlett fidgeted in her seat. Last year on their honeymoon in New Orleans, they had stood on the balcony of their hotel suite. Rhett had poured two glasses of red wine, and he stood next to her as the massive plumes of bright color lit up the sky and reflected off the surface of the river. It had been the first time Scarlett had ever seen a fireworks display, and her eyes had lit up excitement and the underlying romance provided by the whole scene.

"It is already dark, Rhett," she said somewhat impatiently, but when he turned to look at her she smiled and he laughed, reaching out his hand and pulling her chair closer to his. Scarlett smiled lazily when Rhett's fingers came in contact with her cheek and he brushed away a stray strand of the long black hair that had fallen out of its decorative twist.

"Patience is a virtue, darling," he whispered tenderly. His silky voice made Scarlett's heart flutter. Here under the quiet shade of night, she felt so close to him, and his deep but poignant voice floated through the warm air and settled upon her like a soothing ray of sunlight that breaks through the impenetrable depths of winter. She sighed lightly and took his hand in her own.

"Have you given any more thought about writing to Melanie and asking her to visit?" Rhett asked.

Scarlett kept her eyes fixed on the dark haze that had settled on the horizon in the west. "I haven't really thought about it. I suppose I could, it would be nice to see her again," she replied. The thought of seeing Melanie again did not hold as much weight as the possibility of seeing Ashley. Though she knew she loved Rhett, she fleetingly wondered what it would be like to look into those gray eyes that held so much passion and knowledge for a past they both once knew. But it did not matter if he came with Melanie or not, she thought, for she no longer had the same obsession she once did for him.

Rhett's voice interrupted her thoughts. "I wanted to tell you I received a letter while we were gone as well."

"Did you?" she asked, turning to look in his eyes, estimating the weight of what he was going to tell her. "Who from? It's nothing serious I hope."

"No, nothing serious. It was from an old friend of mine, from West Point. He says he's coming to Atlanta and wants to see me."

"Is it someone I know?" Scarlett had met many of Rhett's friends and acquaintances since they'd been married, and though she disagreed with the crudeness and rough edges possessed by many, there were a few she had taken a genuine liking to.

"No. His name is Thomas Holden, and to be honest, I haven't seen or heard from him in a very long time. But he is alive and well, and is coming to visit. I hope you don't mind."

Scarlett perplexedly shook her head back and forth. She wondered who this mysterious man was that had suddenly reappeared in Rhett's life. "No, of course I don't mind."

Rhett flashed an appreciative smile and said, "Thank you. Besides, it will give me the opportunity to show off my lovely wife to yet another poor fellow."

"Why a poor fellow?" asked Scarlett.

Rhett's lips curled into an irresistible smile and he laughed good-naturedly. "Poor because like so many of the other men who I have introduced you to, he'll fall in love with you at first sight, but there won't be anything for him to do about it because I found you first."

Scarlett smiled flirtatiously at Rhett's admiring words and buried her head in his shoulder. "And I found YOU first," she giggled.

"Quite the accomplishment, was it?"

"Oh stop," she chided. "You know as well as I do that every woman under the age of fifty, and probably many older ones steal glimpses of you when we walk down the street."

"And you're jealous?" he said in mock arrogance.

"I am not jealous!" Scarlett exclaimed with slight annoyance.

Rhett sighed jokingly, "Then I see my charms have waned since we've met."

"Think what you'd like, you conceited varmint," she smiled and reached up to peck his cheek. Rhett laughed and leaned his forehead against hers. "But do tell me about your friend, Rhett," Scarlett said with genuine interest.

"Scarlett, you wouldn't believe the trouble we used to get in…" Rhett went on to tell her of he and Thomas's time at West Point, of their pranks and punishments, and Scarlett could not help but laugh with amused mirth as she tried to picture him as he was in his stories: wild, reckless, but undoubtedly handsome. She continued to listen until suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a bright light followed by a belated crack that rang in the air for a few seconds.

"Oh! Rhett look!" She said excitedly, grabbing his arm and causing him to cut off his story, but she was too enamored with the next blue plume of light--followed by red and gold—to notice that she had been rude. Rhett, however, didn't seem to mind. He watched her profile as she gleefully clapped at the celebration, and he noticed her green eyes light up with such apparent happiness that he could not help but admire her as she was now; a young woman who was unknowingly allowing the child inside to be revealed. He did not want to ruin her happiness, and he knew she would most likely not take too kindly to the idea, but he felt stronger every day about the notion that she should stay inside and rest until the baby came. Seeing her now, so lighthearted and carefree, he felt guilty about requesting her convalescence, but for propriety's sake, and for her safety, he felt it the best solution, and he made up his mind that he would tell her so tonight.

Scarlett was aware that Rhett was watching her. She stole a glance at him out of the corner of her eye, and he immediately turned his head to watch the fireworks like she was. "Rhett?" she asked as she leaned forward and took the soft blanket in her hands, pulling it up to her chin. She leaned back in the chair and unconsciously placed her hand on her stomach.

"What is it?"

"Do you think they are celebrating Independence Day up north?"

Rhett laughed and turned again to Scarlett who was clutching her blanket close to her and staring at him with wide eyes. "Do you mean are the Yankees celebrating too?" Scarlett nodded her head naively. "I'd never really thought about that, Scarlett. Yes, I suppose they are, in their own way. It's hard to imagine that when Thomas Jefferson framed and wrote the Declaration of Independence almost a century ago, the Northerners and us Southerners were part of one sovereign nation. You know we do have more in common with the Yankees than you think."

"How could I have anything in common with the filthy Yankees?" she asked with fire in her voice."

"Our forefathers are one in the same, Scarlett."

Scarlett was not interested in history, and she simply nodded and turned away again. The fireworks were becoming more and more dazzling, and as they neared the grand finale, Scarlett stared captivated at the sky, with one hand resting on her stomach and the other holding her blanket. She was thinking how odd it was that the Yankees, whom she so despised, should be celebrating the same holiday as she was, and that somewhere up North, perhaps New York where Ashley and Melanie lived, they were watching a display of pyrotechnics just as she and Rhett were. Just then, he felt an odd sensation under her hand that was resting on her stomach, and she let out a soft gasp of surprise.

Rhett, who seemed to have ears that picked up even the most miniscule sounds, turned to her and took her hand in his. "What is it, Scarlett?" he asked with concern lacing his deep voice.

Scarlett knew that in that moment she had felt the baby move for the first time, and it frightened and excited her at the same time. Before now she had only thought about the baby with serious wonder for fleeting moments when she was not wrapped up in other thoughts or her husband's arms. Now, suddenly, it was as if her whole situation took on a new meaning. It was real to her now, this baby inside of her, but she was uncomfortable—though she didn't know why—of sharing this new feeling with Rhett when she still wasn't sure how she felt herself. She had decided some time ago that she wanted this baby, just as she knew Rhett did, but she could not wrap her mind around the plethora of new thoughts and questions that had entered her mind with the foreign feeling she had just experienced a few seconds earlier.

She turned to look at him and smiled, reassuring him with her eyes under her dark eyelashes. "It's nothing, Rhett. Don't worry so."

Rhett stared into her eyes. He knew something had happened just then that he was not being included in, but he decided not to question further. The sky was completely black now, the fireworks having concluded, and Rhett turned his eyes toward the heavens, taking in the vast array of bright pinpoints of light that were revealed under the dissipating smoke. "Scarlett," he said in a quiet but serious tone. He turned to her and squeezed her hand in his, capturing her eyes in the darkness. "I think…that is, I believe that it would be best now if you were to stay in the house—"

Scarlett's eyes grew wide and she turned her head away, feeling the stinging tears that were pushing on the backs of her eyes. She knew this day would come when he told her she would have to be confined, but she had tried to put it off as long as possible. "But, Rhett!"

"Scarlett look at me," he pleaded with sympathy, reaching out to turn her face toward his again. "This is serious. I understand that it is hard for you, but it's not just you that you must think about, it's the baby too." Scarlett's eyebrows came together in a hurt expression, and Rhett reprimanded himself mentally for suggesting that she was being selfish. "I didn't mean it like that," he continued hurriedly. "Look, Scarlett, I love you too much to let something happen to you or the baby, and besides, the town gossips would have a field day if they saw you out and about all day in your advanced condition. Do you see where I'm coming from?" His eyes were pleading with her, but she saw an undertone of genuine concern flash in the darkness.

She wanted to tell him that the gossips could go to hell, and that she would go out whenever she wanted, but she held her tongue and sighed, admitting defeat. He was right, after all, she told herself. He did love her to great lengths, this she knew, and it was expected of ladies of the time to stay in when they were expecting.

Rhett saw her shoulders heave in a sigh and took it to mean that she had accepted this condition, though not willingly. "It won't be for that long, Scarlett. You'll see," he tried to reassure her.

Scarlett threw off her blanket and stood up, walking across the veranda to the stone railing and leaned against it, staring out into the black void ahead of her. She heard his footsteps on the stone behind her, and suddenly felt his warm hand on her back. She turned and faced him, burying her face in his chest. "Do you promise to keep me company?" she asked.

"I told you I would, didn't I?" She nodded her head up and down as his arms went around her and held her close. He kissed the top of her head and said in a quiet voice, "So it's agreed then? It won't be so bad, I promise." Scarlett let out a grumbling moan but then nodded her head again in silent outward agreement, though Rhett knew that inside she was anything but agreeable.