The Journey Home

Chapter Twenty

Unexpected Visitor

The thunderous pounding of hooves thumped across the distance as the two riders came over the rise in full gallop. Scarlett leaned forward and gave the horse his head. Energy raced through her veins like fire as all the pent up anger and frustration she felt surged forward into the grip she held on the reins.

There was nothing like the feel of the hot sun above her and the muscled back of the thoroughbred beneath to give her the strength she sorely needed. Sweat trickled down her spine but she didn't care. She was going to ride until she was so tired she couldn't think anymore. She was tired of thinking, she was tired of worrying, she wanted to break free from it.

She heard Eli close in on her and she turned to see him next to her, his black hat pulled low on his head and his face brimming with an energetic smile. She kicked the flanks of the thoroughbred to surge forward again, but Eli was not to be deterred. His black gelding found his pace and soon enough he passed by her. He moved ahead twenty feet or more before he pulled back on the reins and wheeled around holding up his hand.

Scarlett pulled back as well and slowed her own horse. She moved in a circle to further slow him down. Both horses were prancing around, their heavy snorts expelling air as they moved. She leaned over and patted his neck with proud satisfaction.

"Where did you learn to ride like that?" Eli laughed as he neared her. "I've never met a woman who could sit a horse that way."

"My father," she answered breathlessly. "He was the finest horseman around and he taught me to sit when I was only a child. I learned both sidesaddle and astride. Of course, that only happened when Mother wasn't around to see."

"You mean to tell me, Scarlett Butler, that you're father let you ride astride like a man?" he teased lightly.

"I wanted to do anything a boy would do and he let me, within reason, of course."

"I imagine you had him wrapped around your little finger."

"I suppose I did," she shrugged. She wheeled her horse around and let him cool down in a slow trot.

Her thoughts suddenly, and unexpectedly, turned to Bonnie who, for the short years of her life, had Rhett wrapped around her little finger more than she ever had Gerald. She was all things to him and he to her, so much so, that Scarlett felt jealous at times of the bond they shared. Now, she would give anything to have her back and she wouldn't have a jealous bone in her body over it.

If Bonnie hadn't have died they could have had a chance and Rhett wouldn't hate and her and she wouldn't feel so alone. If only Bonnie hadn't have tried to jump that day. She could still her in her mind's eye, so sweet, so darling in her blue velvet habit and determined to jump in spite of Rhett's warning. So much like Gerald… so much like herself that it hurt now to think of it.

It was over so fast that Scarlett didn't even have time to grieve properly. The only thing she felt was anger and hatred for having her child ripped from her so violently. She lashed out at Rhett, unconcerned for his own grief. It was selfish and cold of her but at the time she didn't care, now she did. Now, she cared very much but it was too late. You simply couldn't un-say what had been said.

She released a deep sigh and closed her eyes, trying to push back the unpleasant memories. She had almost forgot Eli was there until she heard him next to her. She turned to look at him, but he was seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

"It's strange, isn't it?" he finally said to her. She turned to look at him with puzzlement. "How your life can be one way and then change without so much as a blink of an eye."

"Yes," she answered with a nod of understanding.

"I was just thinking about my Pa back in Texas. He taught me to ride, he taught me a lot of things I won't likely forget."

Intrigued, Scarlett asked him, "Do you miss him?"

"Yeah," he answered. "Do you miss yours?"

A smile emanated from her before she realized it. "Oh yes, every day. My Pa was an Irishman through and through, but he loved this land. He was a loud, boisterous man full of bluster and blarney, but he was soft as mush on the inside. Everyone who knew him, knew that."

"Sounds like a man I'd like to know."

"He was a good friend to many in the county and beyond. He was fair and trustworthy, kind and good… and I'm just running on and on," she turned away from him.

"I don't mind," he told her, and then his tone changed with his next words. "Someone's on the road to Tara… look there."

Scarlett turned her attention to the worn buggy rumbling down the road. From her place on the hill she could make out a blond woman with a long braid down her back. She was alone and controlling the horses with a practiced hand.

"Who's that?" she asked. "I've never seen her before."

"I'm not sure, but she's definitely on her way to Tara."

"I can't imagine what business she'd have there," Scarlett frowned, "since I don't know who she is."

"Who's to say she's going to see you," Eli offered.

"Who else would she be going to see?" she turned sharply to him.

"Perhaps she's a friend of your sister, or…" he paused and let his voice trail away.

"Or?" Scarlett pierced him with her gaze.

"Or, your husband," he said with a shrug.

"Rhett?" she nearly laughed. "Rhett doesn't know anyone like that."

"It's only a thought, but there's only way to find out for sure."

With that thought running through her head, Scarlett looked at the woman once more, who was now further away as she made her way along. She gave Eli one more sidelong glance and then spurned her horse forward toward Tara. She wanted to know who this woman was and what was bringing her to her home.

Rhett stepped out onto the porch and scanned the horizon, a marred expression on his dark, handsome face. She was out there right now with Barrett and it galled him that he cared… but he did. All too much for his own good.

He didn't trust this man Scarlett had hired, or more pointedly, the man Ashley Wilkes had taken it upon himself to hire. He had a nagging feeling about him, one he could neither pinpoint nor dismiss. There was something about the way he carried himself that didn't strike well with Rhett. And, he didn't like the way he looked at Scarlett.

She may not have noticed, but he did and he didn't like it. It wasn't like Scarlett to trust so easy and it certainly wasn't like her to take to a person as quickly as she had to this Barrett. Why, she barely knew him and already she had taken him into her confidence.

With an irritated sigh, he settled back in the cane-backed rocker and crossed a booted foot over his knee. The movement caused him to wince but he pushed the pain back.

He looked over the horizon again knowing that Scarlett was stubborn enough to do something foolish just to spite him. It was just like her to ride off imprudently and carelessly. What if she lost her mount and fell? What if… With a sickening feeling in the pit of his middle, he thought of Bonnie and that horrible day. With clarity he knew he would never forget, he could see her lying so still on the ground. The glorious life-force that had been his Bonnie was gone.

She was so much like Scarlett, so headstrong and stubborn it pained him now to think of it. Why must he be reminded now? What good could it do anyone? Scarlett was a grown woman, not a willful child. She could ride as well as any man and she knew this land better than anyone, but still the sickening feeling would not leave him.

The low rumble of a wagon approaching caught his attention and turned toward it. Upon closer inspection he saw a lone figure of a woman and then with genuine surprise, he recognized Darcy Olson as the driver.

He hadn't expected to see her again and certainly not at Tara. He slowly stood and watched her bring the wagon up the rise of the driveway. He raised his hand in greeting but the look on her face prevented him from going further.

She was pale and her hands were gripping the reins tightly. Rhett had seen enough of that look on the faces of the men around him during the war to recognize shock when he saw it. He opened the door and called for Pork and Simon then he stepped down to near the wagon.

"Mrs. Olson," Rhett said her name and she turned to him. Her eyes were wide and hollow, a barren look in them as if something in her was missing. "Mrs. Olson, what has happened?"

She stared at him and shook her head. "He's gone…"

"Who's gone?"

She didn't answer, but she stared ahead. "He promised me we'd go to town tomorrow. I need sugar and coffee."

"Is it your husband? Has something happened?"

"He said he would be back before dark… but he didn't come back. He didn't come back."

"Where is he?"

She smiled hauntingly then. "We were coming to see you, Mr. Butler. We wanted to see how you were doing. He was supposed to come back, but he didn't."

"Mrs. Olson, why don't you let me help you down?" he said, offering her his good arm. "Let's go inside where you can be comfortable."

Pork and Simon came out as well as Mammy, who looked at Darcy and then to Rhett. Rhett gave her a quick shake of the head and turned back to Darcy.

"I'm sure if you were coming here, your husband will come here looking for you. Why don't you let me help you down now?"

Darcy stared at him and then her face turned even paler. She began to shake and her eyes closed in horror as tears fell in droplets down her cheeks. "He's not coming for me, he's not!" she cried. "He's dead! I found him, I saw him!"

Rhett nearly flinched at her declaration. He stepped forward to mount the buggy but Darcy cried out and suddenly her body went limp.

"Oh laws!" Mammy gasped and Simon scrambled up to the seat to catch her before she fell out.

"Get her in the house!" Rhett bellowed and circled the horses to join them. Simon held her against his chest as her head lolled backwards.

"Good laws, Mista Rhett, but she's passed clean out," Simon said in near shock.

"Of course she is, you dolt. Get her in the house now!" he ordered sharply and followed them inside. Simon gently laid her down on the settee in the parlor and Mammy scurried about gathering cloths and a bowl of water. Rhett bent to one knee and looked at her and saw the lines of grief etched plainly on her face.

What had happened? It was obvious something horrible had happened to her husband and either she witnessed it or found him afterwards. The sickening feeling lay like a hard brick in his stomach and he suddenly wished Scarlett were here. He wanted to see her, he wanted her to be safe and whole and standing before him so that he could see her and even if she hated him, it didn't matter. At least she would be alive and well.

He lifted Darcy's hand and held it gently, searching in vain for answers in her prone face.

It was only a few moments when his wish was granted. Scarlett entered the house and called out that she was back. He heard her in the entry hall.

"Who is here, Simon? Whose buggy is that?"

"Miss Scahlett, sumpin' bad has happn'd"

"Bad? What are talking about? Where's Mr. Butler?"

"He in dere," he said and suddenly Scarlett appeared in the parlor. She stared at the scene in front of her with a mixture of shock and confusion.

"Rhett, what is going on? Who is that?" she asked, fear lining her voice.

"Her name is Darcy Olson and she is, in fact, a friend of mine," he answered and then he stood. "Scarlett-"

"Why is she here and why is she passed on out on my settee?" she interrupted him.

"I'm trying to tell you that. I have reason to believe her husband is dead and she has come here for… well, I'm not entirely sure why she came here but she's here and quite obviously in need of my help."

"I don't understand. Who is she?" Scarlett demanded.

"I'll explain later, but Scarlett, listen to me," he said and came over to her. He looked at her intensely. "Scarlett, I don't want you to ever leave like that again. I…" he broke off and gritted his teeth. "I want you-" and then he stopped when Darcy groaned and moved from her place on the settee. He turned to her and then back to Scarlett. "We will talk later."

Rhett bent forward and looked at Darcy once more. She opened her eyes slightly and saw him in front of her. "Mr. Butler," she whispered hoarsely.

"Mrs. Olson, do you remember where you are?"

"I, I don't know," she answered and then she looked around and saw Scarlett. "How did I get here?"

"You drove here. Do you remember?"

She frowned and then, with painful and dawning recognition, she began to tremble and then cry. "James," she shuddered. "James is dead, he's dead."

Rhett gathered her in his arms and held her while her body shook with heavy sobs. He soothed her and comforted her and when he asked her if she knew what happened, only one audible sound came from her.

It was a name.

Garbled though it was, Rhett heard it and he and Scarlett locked eyes from across the room…

The name was Jonas Wilkerson.