Margaret Mitchell owns "Gone With the Wind" and all its characters. I own a handful of OC's and a story idea. Book-verse. Not "Scarlett" compliant.

And the focus shifts once again. Or more precisely, it's like a camera pulling back to reveal more of the picture. Rhett and Wade make their first "live" appearances and the web of relationships in Atlanta becomes more tangled.

BTW, I don't think the gender of Fanny Wellburn's baby was ever mentioned. I made it a girl. If somebody knows for a fact that it was a boy, then we'll just call this part of the story AU. (But let me know so I can add it to my store of Windie trivia.)

Scarlett wasn't able to sleep that night and she paced the floor of her bedroom before she took herself down the hall to her son's room. She knocked on his door and he called her to enter. He was already in bed, a book spread open on his lap. Scarlett sat on the edge of the bed.

"Are you sure you want to start working tomorrow?" She started without preamble. "Don't you want to rest a while first?"

"Don't you think a year in Europe is rest enough?" He asked dryly.

"But you just got home. Why would you want to rush into working?"

He folded his hands over his book. "Mother, this past year was wonderful--so many amazing things. Do you know, I never realized just how big the world is? And Europe is so old, so cultured. I wouldn't trade those experiences for anything, but at the same time, I feel like my whole life has been spent waiting for life to really start." He straightened up and looked past her. "I want to start living, earning my own money, starting the adventure for real! Who knows what the next big adventure will be, but I want to be there for it. I don't know the things I'll do or the people I'll meet, but I'm tired of waiting. I want to begin right away. Or actually, tomorrow."

Then he laughed a little, blushing and Scarlett stared at him with astonishment. Never had it been Wade's way to confide his secret thoughts to her and never had she seen him so vehement. He seemed to have had the same thought, because he looked away from her, embarrassed. She felt a little heart sore that he would be ashamed to talk to her like this, but she couldn't blame him. It had never been her habit to encourage confidences from her children.

The next day, Wade Hampton Hamilton arrived bright and early to the law firm and was given his first client. Dr. Meade, who had found trying to collect from his insurance company to be more difficult than he had originally imagined, had turned to recourse of lawyers. They sent Wade.

In due time, he arrived at the Meade's, rang the bell and waited. After what seemed to be an unusually long time, the door opened to reveal a rather harassed-looking young lady with a fussy baby on her hip who seemed bent on chewing through her mother's arm. But the lady's face was carefully polite and his hat was off immediately.

"Good morning, I'm Wade Hampton Hamilton with the firm of Stewart and Morris. I'm here to see Dr. Meade."

"Right this way, please," she answered and turned to lead him down the hallway. Peeking out from behind her skirts was a little boy who peered at him curiously.

This must be Marybeth Dandridge, Wade thought. After meeting her today, he was inclined to agree with Beau's opinion of her. She didn't speak a word to him above ordinary politeness and her manner was very formal. Not that Wade was used to girls trying to flirt with him--they usually ended up treating him like a brother. But even Beau, who was accustomed to being the target of languishing looks, had been unable to get a genuine smile from her. Then Marybeth ushered him into the doctor's study.

"Thank you, Dandridge, that will be all," said Dr. Meade.

Marybeth shut the door and herded Edward towards the kitchen. She knew the men would be awhile--long enough to finish feeding Christina. Betsy was laid up with a bad cold today and Marybeth was muddling through without her. Before that lawyer came banging on the door she had set the bread to rise then sat down and started feeding the baby. She had to button up quickly, much to Christina's displeasure, and hurry to the door to answer it. But now Christina could have her full attention again.

That night, over dinner, Mrs. Meade expressed her doubts to her husband. "But don't you think he's just too young? Fresh from his Grand Tour. I doubt he's ever even worked on a case."

"Young, but smart. He graduated second in his class at Harvard, you know. We talked for quite some time, and he explained all the ramifications to me. Besides, Philip Stewart would never let him work on his first case unsupervised. It will be like having one of the partners working on it. But I wish you had been there, listening to him talk. You would have been impressed, too."

Mrs. Meade lapsed into silence then. She had to trust her husband about this. But Dr. Meade changed the subject to one more interesting--the upcoming Presidential election. For it was now fall, the air was cooler and the leaves were changing. And the attention of all the townsmen was focused on the race. Grover Cleveland, a Democrat, was running against James G. Blaine, a Republican, and Mrs. Meade always sided with her husband in politics. Marybeth knew almost nothing about the subject and could care less. She couldn't see how her life was any better or worse for the actions of some man far away in Washington D.C. But her father had been like Dr. Meade, with passionate political opinions. Perhaps, Marybeth thought, if she were allowed to vote, the subject of politics might hold some interest for her. But not only was she too young, she was female.

And as autumn progressed, Dr. Meade's attention shifted between the incident filled political campaign and his lawsuit with the insurance company. Wade Hamilton was a frequent caller to the doctor, but he never tried to engage Marybeth in any sort of conversation and subsequently she never had to freeze him.

Ella and Marybeth were also becoming fast friends during this time, although the burden of visiting fell more heavily on Ella, who after all, wasn't responsible for small children and didn't have all the chores Marybeth had.

oOoOoOo

Wade squinted as he drove his carriage up to the Oakland Cemetery in search of his mother--he had just come from the polls and was on his way back to work and he wanted to deliver a message to her first. But then he saw her with the group of ladies who comprised the Association for the Beautification of the Graves of our Glorious Dead and headed in her direction.

Marybeth was crouched down over a grave, pulling up the weeds and dead annuals. There was a nip in the air, but she was wrapped warmly. If she shivered a little it was because of where she was. She didn't consider herself to be more superstitious than most people, but she wouldn't be here in the cemetery if Mrs. Meade didn't belong to the Association. Marybeth had always thought graveyards were a little uncanny and as she worked she crooned to herself almost silently, the words of the ancient hymn, Defende nos ab hostibus Jesu agnus dei in te confido...

"Hand up, Marybeth?"

Startled, Marybeth jumped up and helped Mrs. Meade to her feet. The cool, humid air made the older woman's joints stiff and she wasn't able to arise without help.

Marybeth hadn't seen the carriage pull up, but Mrs. Meade was determined to talk to its occupant. Marybeth only looked long enough to see it was that lawyer, Mr. Hamilton, before she knelt down and resumed her weeding. She was close enough to hear a little of the conversation, but she knew what Mrs. Meade was going to say.

"Mrs. Meade, with all due respect, I'm afraid I can't discuss the case with you," he was saying in dignified, professional tones.

"Now listen here, Wade Hampton Hamilton, I've known you since you were just a little baby..."

"I am aware of that Mrs. Meade, but professional ethics forbid me..."

Marybeth thought she heard a hint of patient humor in his voice. Mrs. Meade was still dubious about letting a new, inexperienced lawyer handle her husband's case. She must have tried to glean information from him before this. Marybeth continued her weeding.

But then she looked up again when she saw Ella hurrying to the carriage, too. She shook her head in amusement. Ella would use any excuse to stop working.

"Why did you smile?" Jenny Whiting asked. Ella had introduced the two girls and Marybeth had taken an immediate liking to the smart, levelheaded Jenny. Today she was working alongside Marybeth.

Marybeth chuckled. "Does Ella know everybody in Atlanta?"

Jenny replied, "She should know him. That's her brother."

Marybeth sat back on her heels and pushed a stray curl away from her face with her forearm. "The Meades' lawyer is Ella's brother?"

"Yes. I'm surprised you didn't know that."

"I'm surprised, too," said Marybeth, looking over at the carriage. "Of course, I only met him at the Meades'. Come to think of it, he was never there when she was."

"And besides," Jenny said with a grin and a wink, "Ella's explanations of her family connections can get a little, well, complicated."

Marybeth smiled back at the other girl and peered over at the little group by the carriage. Mr. Hamilton certainly didn't look anything like Ella. Funny how neither of Mrs. Butler's children really looked like her. Marybeth's own children resembled Marybeth. Or at least she tried to minimize in her own mind any resemblance they had to their fathers.

She didn't realize she was staring until Wade, suddenly conscious of her fixed regard, glanced at her and looked away quickly, embarrassed. Then Marybeth, appalled at herself for staring, busied herself weeding. But she continued with her reverie...

When she left the farm where Edward was born it was early summer and she pushed westward. Drifting with a small baby was an entirely different experience than drifting alone. She still kept the knife in her boot, but she never needed to use it to defend herself. The towns were smaller and farther apart and opportunities for work or pick pocketing were increasingly scarce. But the people were friendlier and more willing to help a lone traveler. At any rate, she managed to survive until she found work again as a farm hand. It was another large family, but this time the children were older--ranging in age from older than herself on down to one little toddler. She was happy there--she made friends her own age and met William, her first real sweetheart. But then complications entered her life again, in the form of a young man named Alex who would become Christina's father. Marybeth could never think about Alex without a sense of sadness and deep shame. For as much as she wanted to cast most of the blame on him for what happened that week, she knew quite well that she herself had behaved very badly...

She didn't realize she was crooning kyrie eleison, christe eleison, kyrie eleison...

Mrs. Meade came back and crouched down next to Marybeth. "The election results are coming in--Cleveland is in the lead."

Marybeth nodded at her and smiled. "That will make the Doctor happy."

Hoped you liked it. This chapter was longer than I originally planned, so I chopped it in two. Coming up next, more romantic intrigue!