Disclaimer: The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns.
Rhett pondered the contents of his hotel room. Odds were high that nothing of this room would be left the next time he arrived in Atlanta. What was invaluable and what would be necessary for the weeks or months-or, God forbid, years-ahead?
He had far more Union bills than anyone this far south should. He'd been bringing it in, little by little, every time he made a run and now there was quite a bit. Given the way things were going, it would be extremely useful before terribly long. He put it all in two money belts he had and for now put them around his own middle. He packed up the few mementos he had from his family and from Scarlett and set that bag aside. It was small enough. Finally, he considered what he might want for the time ahead.
He left behind the elegant suits he'd worn around town, the daytime wear for prowling the fashionable parts of town in the hopes of finding a certain young widow as well as the evening suits he'd worn as he waltzed her around more ballrooms than a widow should dance in. Somewhere in a bag or drawer there were clothes he'd worn while mining for gold. It could get hot in California, hotter than it was in Atlanta today, but then the sun would go down and a wind would blow that got damn cold. He had no idea why he kept them all of these years when another style of clothing was better suited to working on his ships, but the clothing from California was perhaps the best he had for the coming months, when he would be on different mountainsides and hillsides, but nevertheless ones that could be both hot and cold.
Rhett's buggy hadn't yet been commandeered by the army, but he pulled it around the back of the Hamilton house to reduce the chances that someone would take it. Scarlett met him in the kitchen. "Is Miss Melanie still here?" he asked.
"The Meades took her as soon as Doctor Meade said she could travel safely."
"Are you still determined to get home to your parents?"
"Where else could I go?" There was a sound of distant bombing.
"Macon is much safer than Jonesboro."
"I have to get to Jonesboro, Rhett. I need my mother!"
She was still a child in many ways, after all. He pulled her close. "All right, my darling. We'll see if we can get you there. Have you packed?"
She brought him to the parlor and showed him several trunks filled with things like dishes and candlesticks. "This won't do; we've only got the buggy and that will be hard enough to get through. I need to you bring whatever clothes you can wear every day and anything you cannot live without. It has to fit in a single valise or bag."
He watched her dither for just a moment, and there was more bombing, perhaps closer this time. Prissy shrieked in another part of the house. Scarlett straightened her shoulders and started looking through one of the trunks. She found some picture frames and an old sword.
"This is all we need from here," she said. "I need to get my clothes upstairs."
He followed her up. When they arrived in her bedroom, he looked around, to compare it to his imagination. Then he started unbuttoning her back.
She whirled around. "We don't have time for that, do we?"
"That's not what I was doing. This is just for a second," he replied. He took off his jacket and unfastened his shirt enough to remove one of the money belts. "It's all Union greenbacks in fives and tens, but maybe there will be a use for them someday." He fastened it just below her corset and buttoned her dress back up.
"Aren't the Yankees looting? If I'm caught with this sort of money..."
He handed her one of his dueling pistols. "If any man tries to lay a hand on you, point this at his chest and pull the trigger."
"But Rhett..."
"When you get home, maybe there's some place you can bury it."
"Don't you mean when 'we' get home?"
"Yes," he said tersely, although he wasn't sure how long he would linger at Tara, if they even made it that far together.
The bombing continued as Scarlett took several dresses off hangers and put them in a valise along with several outfits for Wade and underclothes for both from a bureau. There was also another pistol. "I don't know if there's anything else to take, she said."
"Muvver!" Wade came down the hall. "Wade is scawed!"
"It's ok, baby, we're getting out of here."
Somehow Rhett got all the bags into the buggy as well as Prissy, Scarlett, Wade, and himself. The horse wasn't terribly pleased by the weight, but he moved well enough. As they passed the depot and rolled to the southern part of town, Scarlett asked, 'Why is the shelling getting louder?"
Rhett looked at her in amazement. "We're headed toward the battle, my dear. Do you still want to do this?"
With eyes as big as silver dollars, she suddenly realized exactly what he'd been saying for days. She nodded, and they made their way toward Rough and Ready. They got to a bit of a hill top and Scarlett could see plumes of smoke that seemed to accompany the sounds they were hearing. If they kept to the road they were on, they'd be right in the middle of it.
"We can't take the main road."
"I can see that."
"Do you know of any other small trails or lanes?"
She pointed. "If we can get down just another mile or so, there's a lane that winds around miles out of the way, but it comes out near the McIntosh place, which is just a mile away from Tara."
"Do you still want to risk it?"
"Is there any place else we can go?"
He looked at her and dreamed of going east, to the coast. Surely there was a boat somewhere that he could use to get away from the war, to keep her safe. Unfortunately for him, she was worried about her family with illness at Tara. If she was so focused on helping Ashley Wilkes' wife, whom she could scarcely stand, what wouldn't she do for her own flesh and blood?
"You'll have to guide me, then."
It took them a day and a half to travel a distance usually traversed in a long afternoon. They went slowly, looking carefully down every cross-road and letting the horse rest whenever there was fresh water or grazing available. Several times they had to pull into the woods or an abandoned barn or shed while one army or another passed them by. They spent several hours in the night in such a shed.
Scarlett heard voices close by and woke up, about to scream, with her eyes wide. Rhett put his hand over her mouth but then removed it to cover her mouth with his lips. She gasped and let him kiss her more thoroughly. A moment later she settled down and he pulled away to whisper, "It's all right, my sweet." She quietly nodded and rested her head on his chest trustingly. She checked on Wade and Prissy, who were still sleeping quietly.
They foraged in abandoned orchards and vegetable gardens, finding just enough to eat. Scarlett looked around sadly, recognizing some of the properties. "They used to have such lovely garden parties here," she whispered at one half-burned house. At another one she observed, "Pa used to sit on that porch, sipping whiskey and talking about the price of cotton with Mr. Spence."
Eventually they found their way to the McIntosh farm but in the twilight they saw campfires in the distance along the lane to Tara. Rhett stopped the buggy and looked at Scarlett. "We can't go there."
"We're inches from my home!"
"There's an army camped in your parents' yard, Scarlett. I can't go there, and you can't take the buggy."
"What are we to do?" They looked around. There were lights visible through the McIntosh's windows.
"Where's the next place?"
"Twelve Oaks, around that other lane."
He sighed. Ashley Wilkes would have to be his absent host. Of course. "I'll have to leave you off, then, and continue there in the hopes of finding a place to hide until I can get to Tara myself."
"But Rhett, how am I supposed to-"
He put his arms around her. "Listen, my darling. I need to do this, and even though you're a terrible liar, I know you can do this. Your family was at Tara the last you knew, right?" She nodded. "All right. It won't seem so odd for you to show up to join your family at the family home with your son and one of your people. We just need to think for a minute or two about what you should say, right?" At Scarlett's second nod, he smiled. "I'd back you against any army, Yankee or Confederate." He pulled her close and kissed her forehead.
An hour later, a trio of weary travelers made their way up the lane between the cypress trees. Scarlett could see the front porch of her house when they were stopped. "Who are you and what business do you have here?" There were three soldiers standing sentry. Scarlett couldn't tell, but by the completeness of their uniforms she had to guess Yankee.
Scarlett nervously cleared her throat. Remember, they're just men like any men, Rhett's voice echoed in her head. "Please," she said, without batting her eyelashes, but with a soft female voice full of distress, "my name is Scarlett O'Hara. This is my father's plantation, Gerald O'Hara? I'm here with my son and one of our dar-one of our people."
The harsh voice turned kind. "Stay right there, ma'am. We'll have to check with command."
One of the soldiers ran the rest of the way up the lane and up the steps of the front porch. Scarlett looked in agony. "My family has been sick... typhoid, I hear. I do wish I could help my mother nurse my sisters."
"It will just be a moment, ma'am.
Someone came running back, followed by someone of stature who walked more calmly toward them. When he reached Scarlett, this new authority demanded. "What was your name?"
"Scarlett O'Hara. Katie Scarlet O'Hara, that is."
"And where have you been?"
"Tending my sister-in-law in Atlanta. She's been-well-she had a baby this week and couldn't be moved until it was done. Everyone is leaving the city, now, and I've been so worried about my family."
"And how have you gotten here, with so many armies along the road between here and the city?" The voice started to sound incredulous.
Scarlett could feel herself puff up in anger. Don't let them rile you up. Try to stay calm, Rhett's voice in her head reminded her. "I've grown up here, sir, and knew back roads. We passed a few people and got a ride for a few miles at a time along the way."
"And who do you have with you?"
"This is my son, Wade, and Prissy here also has family at Tara, or did when the last letters were sent to us last week."
The commander, whether captain or major was unimportant to Scarlett, took his hat off to run a hand through his hair. "Well, this is highly irregular, but I'll allow it. We're getting ready to move out in a day or two anyhow. I guess you can go on up. Your father is in the kitchen. If you go there, he'll tell you where to find your mother and sisters."
"Thank you sir," Scarlett remembered to keep her voice soft even as her hands clenched so hard that her nails drew blood. They were in.
A/N: Sorry for the long wait between chapters in this story and the long wait for anything from me at all. I've had a minor crisis in RL and a bit of writer's block on both stories I'm currently writing. This one happened to come faster, but the other shouldn't be more than another day or two. Thank you all for your patience, but please read and review some of the other work on the GWTW page. There are several stories I would love to see updated, and maybe some reviews might give other authors a little bit of a boost.
Thank you to my own readers and reviewers, whose kind love keeps me writing, including jaz7, TheFauxGinge, Truckee Gal, Guest 1 & 2, Romabeachgirl1981, gabyhyatt, samandfreddie, lizzieemcullen, and Wiolka