I must be on a roll! Nearly two in one week?, lol. Anyway, here's the next one. (peaking through fingers...)

The Journey Home

Chapter Twenty Four

After the morning

"Mahnin' lamb," Mammy's gentle voice carried to Scarlett's ears. She heard the bustling of her movements and rolled over on her back, stretching contentedly. "Morning, Mammy," she answered.

Mammy? Scarlett eyes flew wide open as she sat up in her bed. She looked over beside her and saw the faint imprint of Rhett's body where he had lain beside her. She stared at it, not sure whether to be relieved or insulted that he wasn't there.

"Sumpin' wrong?" Mammy glanced over at her. "You ain't gettin' sick is you?"

"No," she answered absently, still staring at the spot where he had lain. It hadn't been a dream, it couldn't have been. Rhett had made love to her, he had caressed her body until she cried from the pleasure of it. He had taken her and made her his again.

Her face flushed red when she remembered how he had stripped her of her gown and roughly kissed her tender flesh, of how he had unashamedly removed his own clothes to join with her. She accepted him willingly, giving no thought to the consequences of their actions. She wanted him passionately and he responded by bringing her to the edge again and again, giving of herself as she had never done before.

Rhett, where are you? Why aren't you here with me?, her mind questioned and she wasn't completely sure she wanted the answers to them.

It wouldn't be the first time Rhett had taken her and then left her to deal with the aftermath.

… the aftermath! Oh Dear God, what if...

Scarlett felt the blood drain from her face. Another child? No, no, no, it couldn't happen, not now. Neither of them had taken that into consideration. Her mind raced with a million thoughts. What would they do if a child came from their night together? Would Rhett stay with her then? And then another thought, a more optimistic thought came to her. Why, he would have to! Rhett would never leave his baby, he would never do that!

"Miss Scahlett, you's look lack a ghost done walked over yo' grabe. What's da matter wid you, chile?"

"Nothing, I'm fine, Mammy," she swiped her hand in the air. "Mammy, have you seen Mister Rhett this morning? Is he up yet?"

"Yas'm, I saw him. He said he had 'potent bizness to tek care of in town."

"He's… he's gone?" she heard herself ask. She hoped she didn't sound as desperately disappointed as she felt.

"I speck he be back soon 'nough, don' you fret none."

"Did he say when he'd be back?"

"No, but Mista Rhett done almost look lack himself dis mahnin'," she nodded her head as she removed a dress from Scarlett's closet.

"He did?" she brightened.

"Yas'm, he did. Is dis dress alright, lamb?"

"Yes, it's fine," she shook her head, too concerned with Rhett's frame of mind than what dress Mammy picked for her.

"Miss Darcy done up, but bless her, she ain't eat no mo' dan a little bird. I tries to get her ta eat but she won' do it fah me, you's has ta get her ta do it."

"Fiddle dee, why do I have to?" she asked before she realized how it sounded. "I mean, she should be trying to help herself now. I can't be by her side all day, I have too much to do."

"Dat chile shore is heartbroke," Mammy shot Scarlett a glance, "and folks is talkin' plenty 'bout how good you is wid her… jus' lack Miz Ellen."

That caught Scarlett's attention. "Like Mother? They think I'm like Mother?" she asked with a pleased smile.

"Yas'm, dey do and dey sayin' dat you has changed."

"Why, I have changed, Mammy," she brought her knees and hugged them to her body. "Or at least, I've tried to. What else are they saying?"

"Dat you and Mista Rhett done made a strikin' couple," she looked slyly over at her.

Scarlett was feeling better about things and she could hardly wait to see Rhett again. This was a new beginning for them, they could start over and if a child came along, then it would make everything better. Another Bonnie, perhaps? Or the son Rhett always wanted. She slid from the bed and found herself humming, something she hadn't done in a very long time. Now, if only Rhett would come home. They had so much to talk about.

Rhett left the telegraph office.

It was done.

The divorce papers should be there by the end of the week. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he reached the edge of the porch. You fool, you damnable idiotic fool…

How could he have let it happen? How could he have lost control of himself like that? There was no excuse for his actions, none at all. He had let himself be seduced by Scarlett's vulnerability.

If ever there was a time to place distance between them, it was now. He couldn't face her, he didn't want to see the look on her face when she realized what a mistake they had made. She had to know it was.

He told himself for the hundredth time since he had awoken early that morning that it was. Nothing had changed… or at least he told himself it hadn't. He didn't want to think about Scarlett's smoldering green eyes looking at him seductively, or her smooth skin or any of the other attributes that was her. He didn't want to think about the way her body reacted to his or the way she arched her back at his touch and sighed contentedly when he kissed her. Besides, it had never been the physical aspects of his relationship with Scarlett that was his problem, it was the emotional.

He couldn't do it again and he wouldn't do it again. It was one night and one night only and the sooner she realized that, the better off they'd both be. He had insured against it happening again by acquiring a room above the only saloon in town. It wasn't what he was used to, but it would do until the matter with Darcy Olson was settled and of course, Scarlett signed the divorce papers. Then he could return to Charleston and to his new life, a life without Scarlett in it.

"Mr. Butler, I say, Mr. Butler!"

Rhett's thoughts scattered with the interruption he had received. He turned to see the telegraph officer coming down the way. He held a slip of paper in his hand. Frowning, he tipped his hat back and waited for the man to come to him.

"I'm so glad I caught you," he smiled breathlessly. "This just came in the very minute you walked out. It's for Mrs. Butler. Could you take it to her?"

Looking down at the thin, slip of paper, Rhett held out his hand. He only responded with a short nod and opened it, letting his eyes roam over the page. It was from Scarlett's Aunt Pitty and from the contents on the page, it seemed her brother Henry had taken ill. Could she come home quickly? She didn't know what to do, Scarlett always took care of everything.

Rhett cursed and crumpled the paper in his hand. If Henry Hamilton had taken ill, then he wouldn't be able to correspond the divorce papers to him. That meant sending for them in Charleston and that would take weeks.

"I'm sorry about Mrs. Butler's uncle," the man said next to him. Rhett scowled toward him and stepped off the porch. "I'll send your regards," he responded and headed for the saloon.

He needed a drink badly, very badly. He entered the dim room and spotted the bar along the far wall. He headed straight for it and threw a dollar on the scuffed wood. "Whiskey," he said and waited for the bartender to set it before him.

"As I was sayin'," a rough and eerily familiar voice behind him said. "I got my eye on that little lady. Being a widow, well, she's gonna need a man to fill them long, cold, lonely nights."

A chuckle filtered around the room. "Strom, I ain't ever took you for no marrying man, but I can see why you'd want a piece of that. She's a mighty fine looking woman."

Rhett's body tensed as he sipped his whiskey. He gave a slight, sidelong glance toward the group of men sitting around the table and spotted the one he knew was there. It was the man who had attacked him and left him for dead. He'd recognize that voice anywhere.

"Who said anything about marrying?" he laughed grizzily and slapped his leg. "I can drink out of the well without buying the whole damn bucket."

Another round of laughter teetered around him. "I don't know, Strom. Mr. 'B' ain't gonna like you looking at her," another man's voice spoke up. "You know he had plans for her himself."

A loud curse boomed from Strom. "I ain't afraid of him, besides, I done the job I was paid to do, what I do now ain't none of his concern."

"I'm just sayin' is all," the man's voice trailed off.

"Yeah, well, you just keep your nose outta my business, got it?" he growled.

"Yeah, sure thing, Strom," he replied quietly.

Rhett had a sinking feeling he knew exactly who they were talking about and that someone was Darcy. A sick feeling fell to the bottom of his stomach. He would kill every man there if they tried to lay a hand on her. She wasn't a piece of meat, for God's sake.

"Barkeep! Another bottle of whiskey and make it quick!" Strom bellowed across the room.

Rhett straightened and threw back the last of his drink. The battle inside of him raged on as debated on what to do. Should he leave or confront them? He was certain now they were the ones who attacked him… he noticed the one called Cyrus sitting silently in the corner looking around the room, his dark face scowling.

They had to be the ones who had also attacked and killed James Olson, but what connection they had to Jonas Wilkerson was still a mystery. He intended to find out, however and they would all pay for the misery they had inflicted on everyone in this community.

"You know boys, I was thinking that maybe Barrett hadn't paid me near enough for the job I done. I did him a service after all and now, well… I just think he owes me more."

Barrett? Rhett turned his eyes sharply to the side.

"I don't know, Strom. Seems to me you're better off to leave it alone. We got our money, why can't we move on?"

"Because, I'm not finished here, I got plans and if Barrett don't want anything to ruin his, he'll pay me more, leastways I might make good on my threat and take that widow for my own use."

"He ain't gonna like it, Strom."

"No," he laughed wickedly, "I don't expect he will."

Rhett pulled the bill of his hat lower and headed for the door. He was either going to leave or smash his fists in the man's face. The first sounded like an excellent idea, but the latter was the more prudent. He was going back to Tara. It was time for he and Eli Barrett to have a talk. If he had anything to do with what had happened to James and Darcy Olson he was going to be sorry he had ever been born.

As for Scarlett… as for Scarlett he didn't know yet, but he knew he wanted Barrett away from her and if his suspicions were correct, God have mercy upon his miserable soul.