Chapter 16

A/N: As with other characters who have popped up, familiar names don't necessarily have the same relationships to characters in this universe as they do in the book. (For example, the two recently-introduced characters here are not related to certain characters as they are in the book.)

And when I say "recently-introduced" I of course mean nearly a year ago, lol. It's been a weird, bad year and a half-ish, and I've missed writing dreadfully. Take care of yourselves, everyone. *mwah*)

Thank you for sticking with me, and reading and reviewing!

"Oh, gee, Ma!" the boy at his side cried, turning back to look at his mother as they walked away.

Rhett was unaccustomed to dealing with children he didn't know, but he liked them when they weren't lying or cheating like tiny adults. This boy seemed genuinely heartbroken, and he hoped he could say something to make him feel better.

"Come on, son. We'd better give your mother a chance to come around."

The boy gave a dry sob and sniffled again. "It's all right, son," he patted him on the shoulder. She'll be good as new in a couple of minutes, you'll see." Hoping to distract him, he asked, "What's your name?"

"B- b- Beau," the boy stumbled over the answer.

"Beau," Rhett echoed, saying the name thoughtfully. "Sounds like an awfully strong name to me."

"I told Ma to have my dinner yesterday, but she said I had t' have it," Beau answered, beginning to scuff his toe against the bus floor in embarrassment before stopping, mid-motion, and planting both feet again rigidly.

"There, you see?" Rhett tried to soothe him. "Only an awfully strong man like yourself would offer his supper to his mother." The boy seemed to perk up a little at this description of himself, straightening his shoulders a little. "Mothers will do their best for their children, you can't feel guilty for that," Rhett reasoned.

"But Pa told me to take care of her," Beau argued.

"And you have, by getting her help, see?" Rhett gestured down the aisle to where the woman was now sitting up straight, if still a little wan. She smiled as she took another cup of water from Scarlett. "I'm sure your Pa would be proud of everything you've done. Where is he?" Rhett noted, his personal and reporter's curiosity, at least for a moment, overcoming Eleanor's strict lessons.

"We shouldna come," Beau sniffled. "But Ma said there's a job waiting for her in the city—and if we didn't go, she might lose it. We didn't know the tickets were gonna be so much," he finished, wiping his nose on one well-mended, slightly scrubby sleeve.

"Now, now," Rhett began, "don't you worry about that position. Someone strong as your Ma is worth waiting for, you know." He felt a twinge of guilt, promising the boy something when he had no control over it. But sometimes hope and kindness proved their worth more than pragmatism, especially when children were involved.

He reached into his pocket for a bill, and pulled out a ten. Glancing down at the boy to make sure he hadn't noticed, Rhett carefully felt again for a smaller denomination, and grimaced when he came up empty-handed. (Well, except for the ten dollar bill.)

He was closing his hand into a fist around the precious lucre, when he felt something soft brush against his side.

~nb~

Once the woman seemed well enough to sit up on her own, Scarlett had stayed with her as she finished another cup of cool water, and found herself in the uncommon position of confidant. The woman was a widow—Melanie was her name—and she had almost no one in the whole world except her son. After her husband had died, she'd tried to provide for her tiny family with sewing services, but it hadn't been enough. Then some kind relative had written about an opportunity for a typist in New York, and off she and Beau had set. "I feel like such a fool," she confided, her large brown eyes fatigued yet determined. "My darling uncle offered to pay the fare, but I didn't want to be a burden to him. I'd no idea the tickets would be so dear!"

Scarlett smiled and patted the woman's hand. She seemed a nice lady, although Scarlett couldn't help secretly agreeing that she might be a fool, turning down free tickets like that. She was nice, this Melanie, but she made Scarlett feel almost uncomfortable. She must have thanked Scarlett for "all her kindness" a dozen times in their short conversation.

Scarlett had never been one to discount a nice thing said about her, but such lavish praise felt undeserved, like the time Ashley had complimented her peach pie. Scarlett, all of nine years old at the time, had beamed and thanked him, tossing her hair over her shoulders, until she saw Miss Doralise in the doorway, her mouth all squunched to one side in disapproval. Deecie would never say anything to Ashley, but she knew exactly what contributions to the pie Scarlett had made, and they largely revolved around drawing various curlicues in the flour until Deecie had shooed her away to a chair from which she could only observe, under threat that if her feet touched the floor before the pie was cooling on the windowsill, Scarlett would not get any of it. Scarlett had huffed and scowled, and let her feet swing dangerously close to the floor, but she couldn't bring herself to truly risk missing out on pie. Her conscience pricked under Deecie's dark, knowing gaze, she shifted in her seat, and mumbled, "Thank you, Ash, but it's really Deece— Miss Doralise's pie. She did most—" one dark eyebrow shot up from the doorway, and Scarlett made a face in response, "well, all, really— all her work." Deecie's eyes shone in triumph, and Scarlett begrudgingly admitted to herself that she felt better.

Melanie's dark eyes reminded her of Deecie's, and Scarlett felt sure that this was something Ellen would think she should confess. "It was nothing, my dear, really," Scarlett assured Melanie again. Patting her hand once again, she slipped out of the seat and escaped up the aisle under the pretense of checking on the lady's son. As she walked, she straightened her shoulders and resolved to be helpful. Somehow.

The opportunity presented itself immediately.

~nb~

Rhett looked down to see the flower reaching for his hand. His breath caught, and his heart beat more quickly, as her fingers brushed his so lightly it tickled. Why was she trying to hold his hand? Her skin was so soft… Disappointment clashed with horror as he watched her slip the money from his fingers and hand it to the little boy.

"Here. The first town we come to, buy yourself and your mother some food," she smiled and stood.

"I— I oughta— I shouldn't take this," Beau said, his arm reaching up feebly, his mother's teachings fighting with a rumbling stomach that made him reluctant.

"Just don't tell her anything about it." She smiled and Rhett fought the urge to laugh at her obvious charm offensive. "Being hungry is terrible, isn't it?" she commiserated awkwardly. Leaning forward, she whispered conspiratorially, "You don't want her to get sick again, do you?" Rhett chuckled before he could help it, and covered it with a cough. His flower was delightfully manipulative.

"Oh, but I shouldn't," Beau repeated, though his arm jerked back a fraction of an inch. "You might need it," he said, turning to Rhett.

The flower smiled up at him with shining eyes, and he knew the cause was lost. Besides, he couldn't help but think of that last shoeless child who'd partially precipitated his getting into this whole adventure.

"Me?" he asked nonchalantly. "Forget it," he rumpled the boy's hair. "I got millions," he said, and grinned.

Beau smiled back, clearly relieved. "Thanks, mister."

"Come on, let's go back to your mother," the flower said, reaching for the boy's hand before awkwardly retracting it and patting him on the head instead. "We'll just say you found this in your pocket—some forgotten birthday money, or…"

Rhett rocked back on his heels, and shook his head in unconscious awe at the way her mind worked. The flower's words drifted off as Rhett watched them walk back down the aisle.

(So yeah, I didn't want to spoil the names up top, but Melanie and Beau here are not like a secret wife and son that this story's Ashley has. They're just Melanie and Beau, and Depression-era poverty aside, aren't they better off without Ashley, anyway? WHO AMONGST US WOULD NOT BE. Haha.)