Chapter 19

Scarlett went back to Tara. She stopped the coach just at the entrance through the great oak trees and stood there, bags and all, just staring at her white plantation home. Her eyes were swollen with unshod tears.

"Could you love me, Scarlett? Could you find some place in your heart for me?" echoed Rhett's voice from the past. "I am wickedly ensnaring you in my trap, my dear.. so that you will depend on no one else but me.."

Scarlett stiffly jerked her head in refusal as she remembered this. The very memory seemed to cruelly claw out a flood of emotions from her. Emotions that seemed to overpower her, threatening her very existence. Just why had she fallen for Rhett? He had said so many many times that he was trapping her, using her.. Just why hadn't she taken any of his words seriously. Was she so stupid that she couldn't understand how he had corrupted her? Or was it because..

Had she been so very vain?

Here Scarlett stopped shaking. A quiet respect seemed to break though the tide. Respect for a man who had been as selfish as her. So, there was a man who thought as deviously as she had thought. A cool customer just like herself when she married Charles and Frank. A man who took and never gave without expecting something back. But if Rhett was her soul then was she also living in an illusion?

The last question was thrown into the winds of Tara. Scarlett walked under the oak tree and grasped it's hanging branches. She gave them a tug and looked up at the network of snaking braches. She had stared like this in wonder during her childhood. She looked at the spot of red earth where she stood.

"Every bit of land is exactly like the other" Rhett had said.

"Oh, you could never be so wrong" said Scarlett, with a sad smile. "Every bit of earth is different. The earth of Tara is full of life and beauty. It is alive with the popping of cotton seeds, giving birth to the stalks shaking in the mountain breeze. Can't you feel it? And the red, muddy slush of Atlanta.. the ground thundered with building and the hoof-beats of horses carrying people everywhere.. That ground was different. Every land is different, for a different purpose. You cannot just give up-"

Scarlett's thoughts seemed to linger for a while, not taking any form or direction. Another coach was driving past her and quickly hailing to it, she clambered into it and went to the Tarleton plantation.

She did not know why. But the Tarleton plantation, especially Beatrice Tarleton.. she always had a kind of fascination for that woman. She knew that Beatrice Tarleton was a horse-woman through and through. She didn't much like her as a person but she had always admired her passion for raising horses. Beatrice was the only woman she knew who loved a thing more than a person. Her own Mother could never be tied down by anything. Mother always lived for others and her family. Most of the other women she knew were like that. But not Beatrice Tarleton.

As soon as she entered the Tarleton farm, she smelt the strong odor of horses. And there was Beatrice Tarleton, bending over a beautiful mare, brushing her coat. When she saw Scarlett, she gave a flushed smile and waved back.

Soon Scarlett was sitting in the Tarleton parlour room, sipping some tea. Beatrice had never questioned her bags or her travelling attire and Scarlett didn't mention them either. Instead she asked Scarlett after her own children- Wade and Ella, news of Atlanta and offered her own news in return. Then inevitably the conversation turned to the four Tarleton boys who had died during the war and to the death of Ellen and Gerald.

Scarlett, feeling uncomfortable cut the conversation short and looked blank.

"I still have a lot of work to do around this place, Scarlett. There's a new horse come in just yesterday. She's a beautiful piebald trotter. I need to give her a good brushing down. Want to come with me?"

Scarlett gratefully accepted and went out to the farm through the back door.

Beatrice brushed her horse's silky smooth hair, murmuring sweet endearments to the animal in-between brushings. Scarlett watched her. She was only brushing the horse but each stroke seemed heavy with meaning and purpose. Beatrice looked so passionate, her cheeks flushed red and her eyes brightly shining.

"You look so happy" said Scarlett, fascinated by her enthusiasm.

"Oh yes. Being with my babies always makes me happy."

"You never worry about other things.."

"What other things?"

Scarlett shrugged. "There is so much to worry about. Mother never had any passion like this. She was always busy living for us and the slaves around Tara. She was a great Lady."

"Oh yes, Ellen O Hara was a great lady"

"Don't you ever-"

"Oh!" Beatrice Tarleton looked up in surprise and then laughed as if she was shocked Scarlett could even think in such lines. "Oh my dear, that is not for me!"

"Oh."

"Oh no, I could never live like that. As much as I love Ellen O Hara and deeply respect her, I simply couldn't."

"Why not?"

Here, Beatrice looked puzzled. "Well.. " She hesitated. "Scarlett, I know all about your Mother. I know that she once loved a young man. I know all that. Stories like that always reach ears faster in the country."

"Yes?"

Beatrice sighed. "Scarlett, that is what happens when you place value on people than things. When the people leave or die, you will be broken-"

"I don't understand."

"My four sons died and I should have given up and died by now. But I didn't. Why do you think that is?"

"Why?"

"Because of my horses, my dear. These beasts that I love more than anything else."

"I suppose they are the finest horses in Clayton County."

"No, it isn't that. I find myself in raising horses. It's for me. Something special to me that I love."

"But isn't that very selfish of you?"

"I suppose so. But I couldn't live any other way."

"But great ladies are always meant to give up everything, aren't they?"

"Which is probably why it is impossible-"

Scarlett did not reply to this.

"Scarlett, I probably sound like a traitor to Ellen but seeing that you are nearly thirty, I am not afraid to speak my mind. I don't really believe in being a lady or even a great one at that. I mean, I don't go about doing things thinking that I am going to be kind and helpful to others.. If people are benefitted by me, then I am happy but I don't go plodding around just for it. I even think it is futile. It isn't possible to be entirely selfless."

"But Mother was!"

"That is probably because she couldn't marry her lover. Consider Ellen with compassion, Scarlett. When her family denied her happiness, she later denied herself happiness. She came here, adapted to Georgia and lived for others because she needed to feel in control."

Scarlett frowned. The words were true. Ellen was sensitive and gentle but it was she who controlled and operated Tara. It was strange she never bothered about this contradiction before.