Does a happy dance! I've updated! Can you believe it? Finally, I have moved out of the quicksand. I hope you enjoy it, it took long enough, eh?

The Journey Home

Chapter Twenty One

Defiant Desires

Scarlett paced restlessly across the floor of the parlor. God's Nightgown! she fumed. She must have taken leave of her senses to agree to what she had just let Rhett talk her into. She didn't even know this Olson woman and now she was going to stay here with them for God only knew how long until this matter with her husband was settled.

To make matters worse, Rhett had gone to their farm, leaving her here to deal with the distraught woman. She bristled with an unknown sensation at the very thought of the pretty blond woman tucked into the bedroom next to hers. It wasn't lost on Scarlett the irony of that situation, since it was Suellen and Careen's old room she was in. Imagine, she was lying in the room of the wife of the man who had possibly killed her husband. It was the sort of thing one only read in Penny Dreadfuls, she mused cynically.

If she would have had her way in the matter, she would have sent the woman packing back to her own home. It was then that a slight feeling of guilt rose in her at that thought, for Ellen would have never done such an unkindly thing. She would have nurtured the woman and helped her until she was on her feet. Scarlett knew she should be more congenial, but it was mighty hard to be congenial when she saw the way Rhett comforted her and held her so gently.

How many times had she been held by those strong arms, her head pillowed against his broad chest as he held her close? How many times had she taken it for granted?

Scarlett once again fumed at the situation she found herself in. She could never, never let Rhett know her true feelings about his concern for this woman for it would only serve to confirm his already low opinion of her. He would say she was selfish and inconsiderate and he would never believe that it was her own insecurities that moved her to behave in such a way.

No, her only hope was to play nursemaid and gracious host to the woman while she was here. She was determined to make Rhett see she could change and be the lady she always wanted to be. She could never be that in Atlanta, not now anyway. But at Tara she could rise above any of that because here… here she was Gerald and Ellen's daughter. Here, the stories of her behavior would raise eyebrows but redemption was but a good deed or two, away.

The neighbors in the county, the Fontaines, the Tarletons and many others would be understanding and forgiving of her because she was one of them. This was her chance to redeem herself in not only their eyes, but in Rhett's no matter how else she may feel about Darcy Olson.

With a deep, resounding breath, she smoothed down her dress, patted her hair and headed for the staircase. She was going to show so much kindness to the woman that Rhett was going to choke on it. Once at the landing, she walked to the door and tapped on it. When no answer came, she pushed it open slightly to peek in.

Darcy lay on her back, staring ahead at nothing. Her eyes were dark lidded with shadows and her face looked drawn and pale. Scarlett was never one to feel empathy for others and it was difficult now, but Darcy looked so sadly pitiful that she felt a hint of sympathy for all she had gone through. She knew heartache and she knew suffering and this young woman had been through both in a very short period of time.

She pushed the door further open and stepped in. She cleared her throat, but still Darcy did not look at her. She came to the foot of the bed and cleared her throat again. "Mrs. Olson, I came up to see about you. Would you like something to eat or drink?"

Still, there was no response.

She stepped closer so that she was within touching distance of her. "Mrs. Olson, can I get you anything?"

The young woman lay still, quiet… seemingly lost within herself. Scarlett didn't know what to do. She was uncomfortable with this situation. She had only been beaten down once and she hated the feeling it produced, but she doubly hated it in others. She was not a good nurse, she never had been. She had been forced into doing it during the war and then it was only to fetch water and replace bandages.

Scarlett looked around the room and spotted a chair. With a determined sigh, she pulled it close and sat down next to her. "I don't think we've been properly introduced. I'm Scarlett Butler, the mistress of Tara. I understand you rescued my husband." She felt as if she were rambling, but if she kept talking maybe she would get some sort of response.

"I never have had the opportunity to thank you for what you did for him. He can be mighty stubborn, so that you were able to help him was a nearly close to a miracle. Rhett doesn't usually like to be waited on, sick or otherwise. I can only imagine what kind of patient he was. Why, I've never even seen him sick come to think of it."

Her mind began to wander back over the years she had known Rhett. "He's always been healthy as a horse, not even so much as a cold. I can't think one time when he was down in the bed."

She picked at her dress as she spoke. "I've known him a long time, ever since before the war. He was such a blackguard then. He didn't give one whit what anyone thought of him. He's from Charleston you know, but he came to Atlanta with his fine linen suits and airs of being a gentleman, but Rhett will be the first one to tell you he's no gentleman."

She slightly smiled. "He was a blockade runner and the folks here didn't know whether to hate him or receive him, which he wasn't for a long time. He had a reputation, a rather bad one, one that he was proud of. He didn't care to be received, he didn't need to sit in their parlors and pretend to be one of them. It was scandalous, but Rhett didn't care at the time. He didn't care until Bonnie…"

She stiffened, acutely aware of where her ramblings had brought her. She stopped talking and stood. "I… I'm sorry, I won't bother you anymore," she said and turned to the door. She stopped, frozen, shocked to see Rhett in the doorway looking at her.

"Rhett," she breathed. He was staring at her intently, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. "How long have you been there?"

"Long enough," he answered quietly.

"You should have let me know you were here."

Ignoring her, Rhett looked past her to Darcy lying on the bed. "How's she doing?"

"I don't know. She hasn't spoken since we brought her up here," she answered tersely.

"Shock," he supplied.

"What?"

"She's in shock and rightly so. After what she saw-" he stopped and moved from the doorway into the hallway. "Let's go, we can check on her later."

"Very well," she moved passed him stiffly and toward the stairs. He caught up with her and took her by the arm.

"In here," he led her to her room, the room he was occupying at any rate. He softly shut it behind him. "I didn't want to say anything in front of her."

"Did you find her husband?" she questioned him as he came deeper into the room.

"Yes," he nodded, the tension around his mouth tight. "It wasn't a pretty sight. No wonder she's in the state she's in."

"What happened?"

"Are you sure you want to hear?"

"Yes," she nodded, bracing herself for what he was going to say.

"He was hung, Scarlett. And worse, stripped of his clothes and hung. Humiliated, beaten and left to die no better than an animal."

"Oh Rhett," she covered her mouth as the image filtered in her mind. "You don't think Jonas did that to him?"

"No, he doesn't have the courage, but I have no doubt he ordered it done. But, can it be proven? Hardly."

"What do you mean? Why can't it be proven?"

"Scarlett, Jonas is not a stupid man. The men he hired to do this, he paid well and I'm sure are miles away by now. He would be certain not to be seen anywhere near the Olson farm, so it can't be proven he had anything to do with it."

"That's despicable," she said bitterly.

"Despicable, but true. The only concern I have now is Mrs. Olson. I'm certain she could be in danger now."

Frowning, Scarlett turned from him. She was afraid he was going to say that, but she remembered her earlier thoughts and determined to be empathetic to Darcy's plight. "Then, she just has to stay here until she's no longer in danger."

Silence, thick and tense, reverberated around the room. When Rhett didn't respond, she turned back to him to find him watching her just as intently as before while in Darcy's room. "What's this? You're actually concerned for her well-being now?"

Bristling, she stood proudly in front of him. "God's Nightgown! Do you think I'm a perfect heathen? Can't I show common consideration without being questioned like I'm a criminal?"

Rhett smiled slightly for the first time. "You? Showing common consideration? Especially for a woman completely beneath you. Come now, Scarlett, we both know that's not like you. What's this really about?"

"The woman's husband has been murdered, she could be in danger, you just said so! Why shouldn't I want to help her?'

"Because, my self-centered little pet, you have no care for anyone but yourself. A leopard can't change its spots no more than you can change that characteristic. Let's not insult one another with spouts of honor at this stage of the game."

"Think what you will, Rhett Butler, I don't care."

Rhett settled down on the edge of the bed and cocked an eyebrow toward her. "Is that all you can say? No pithy comeback, no insult to scald me with?"

"Why should I bother? You've made it perfectly clear what you think of me. I will never find forgiveness in your eyes so you can go to the devil for all I care."

"And if I did forgive, what then? Do you think all of the tribulations of the past can be wiped away with one sweep of the hand?"

"I don't think it matters any longer. I've made my offer to Mrs. Olson, she can stay as long as she needs to. As for you and what you think, I could care less now," she retorted and started to sweep past him, but quick as a snake Rhett reached for her and spun her around.

"Don't play martyr, Scarlett, it doesn't suit you."

"Let go of me," she tried to jerk back from him, but his hold was firm in spite of his injuries.

"Did you know I was in the doorway when you were talking to our guest? Did you mean for me to hear all that you said?"

Gasping, Scarlett gritted her teeth. "No! I did no such thing. I had no idea you were there. Why were YOU spying on me?"

"I wasn't spying, I was merely checking on her. Imagine my surprise when I heard you reveling her of tales of my past. What did you call me? Scandalous, was it?"

"Yes, and that was being kind! I should have said skunk, snake or anything else vile and loathsome. Now, let go of me."

"Ah, now there's the Scarlett I know. Not this Florence Nightingale act you were trying to bestow. Never be anything but what you are, Scarlett. You're just like me, selfish, cruel and pitiless. Trying to be anything different is the same as living a lie. No amount of Hail Mary's can absolve you from deceitfulness."

"I've had enough of you. I am not pitiless! I can be kind, I can be! I can be like my mother now. I can be like her and you can't tell me otherwise."

Rhett stared at her, his eyes boring into hers. She saw a flicker of emotion come across his face and he softened for a moment. "I forgot how much you wanted to be like your mother. She was a great lady, wasn't she?"

"Yes, and I can be, too. I just never had the chance to show it."

His brows furrowed together as he looked at her. "And, you mean it? You're really willing to be nursemaid to Mrs. Olson? No ulterior motive involved?"

"None," she answered and lifted her head in defiance.

Rhett stood and glanced down at her, a smirk on his face. "I don't believe you."

Before she knew it, she had reared back and brought her hand across his face in a stinging slap. She jumped back, shocked at what she had done. Instantly, Rhett's face darkened, save for the red imprint of her hand on his cheek.

"Why you," he snarled and hauled her up to him. "I ought to whip you for that."

She had no words to answer him, nothing came to her mind. She was completely blank and void of them. Her body was pressed against his and she could feel the heat and the anger emanating from him. She struggled to releases his grip, but he held her tight.

"You wildcat," he breathed and captured her face.

She pushed back from him and still he held her. They glared at one another until finally Rhett growled and brought his mouth crashing down on hers. He kissed her fiercely, hotly and mercilessly. His arm was like a steel band around her waist as he held her in place. She could feel the sting of his mustache against her skin as his lips pried hers open. She refused to be manhandled this way even if this was the very thing she had craved. She fought him, but he wasn't giving an inch. He cupped her face to still her movements so that he could probe the sweetness of her mouth more intimately.

Her mind was swirling with the knowledge that Rhett was kissing her, but it wasn't what she wanted or how she wanted it to happen. She wanted him to be the Rhett he used to be, not this savage, cruel Rhett he was. She pushed at him, her efforts bringing no release of his grip on her.

"Stop!" she managed to gasp and throw her head back. "Stop, Rhett!"

Suddenly, his movements stilled and she could feel the tenseness of his body. She took several deep breaths and pushed away from him. "Don't you ever do that to me again! I won't be manhandled! Not by you, or anyone!" She reached back to slap him again, but he grabbed her wrist and held her down. She pierced him with a cold defiant stare and jerked her wrist free. Then without another word, she whirled on her heels and stomped to the door, slamming it soundly behind her, leaving a very frustrated Rhett in her wake.