Disclaimer: 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 so the summer progressed. Wade courted Marybeth and her personality blossomed in the assurance of his love. The cautious stiffness she had acquired over the last few years of hardship melted away and she became more like the girl she had been before misfortune overtook her. It was easier to laugh now, and she did it often--and she smiled whenever anybody looked at her. Her sense of humor--long dormant and rather wry--started to shine through and she joined Ella in her mischief-making.

As for Wade, he was enchanted by this change in Marybeth. He had fallen in love with her in her more serious guise, but he still had the shy boy's attraction to sparkling girls. And Marybeth certainly sparkled these days. However, Wade was changing too. She made no secret of her deep affection for him and he became more self-confident as he warmed himself with her approval. Of course, a more experienced coquette would have had Wade dancing at the end of a string, but Marybeth, in her straightforward way, had no wish to torment the man she loved.

Their courtship became an established fixture among the young set in Atlanta. He squired her around (to use a phrase from a previous generation) and they were a familiar sight together at dances and sociables, her arm linked companionably through his. They could, and did, dance with other partners--it was expected of them--but they always sought each other out afterwards. When they danced together they were utterly attuned to each other. In public he treated her with tender courtesy which she reciprocated with her prettiest smiles. And whenever they had a private moment alone, she was in his arms...

Beau Wilkes knew all about Wade's courtship--both Wade and Ella had mentioned it in their letters to him. But reading it in a letter was different than living the reality. Although he never really thought about it deeply, he and his two cousins had had a very cozy friendship among themselves. Beau accepted it as a thing that should be that his best friends in the world were the children of the Butler family and somehow he never thought that anybody would come along and disturb their trio. So it was with a bit of dismay that he came home from University to find Marybeth Dandridge had been brought into their little circle.

It wasn't that he objected to Marybeth personally. But his close relationship with his cousins had been built on their ties of blood and step-kinship and cemented by their shared grief after the death of his mother. Beau never thought he would see the day when it wasn't just the three of them.

But it was an ill wind which blew no good--he had the opportunity one afternoon to trail ride alone with Ella shortly after his return home. He didn't know (because Ella didn't tell him) that Aunt Scarlett had given permission to Ella for this jaunt despite her misgivings.

"Why don't you plan a picnic before it gets too hot and sticky, Ella?" He asked.

Ella nodded thoughtfully. It was always her job to provide the food when they picnicked. And it was always the job of Wade or Beau to carry it in their saddlebags. "Yes. That's a good idea. And maybe Marybeth will be able to ride along with us. Wade's teaching her how, you know."

Beau nodded, but didn't answer. He was happy for Wade, but he couldn't help feeling that the end of an era was coming with the arrival of Marybeth Dandridge.

As a matter of fact, the riding lesson was going on just at that same time. She had a new riding habit from a pattern she borrowed from Ella. Wade asked his mother's permission to use her old saddle horse, Dakota.

Marybeth tried to thank Scarlett for the loan of the horse, but the older woman dismissed her with a wave and a laugh.

"Fiddle-dee-dee! I don't have the time to ride. Or the inclination."

So there they were in the back paddock of the mansion. Wade explained the finer points of the saddle to her and showed her how to strap it securely onto the horse. Then he lifted her carefully onto Dakota. "You keep your shoulders and hips square with the horse's shoulders and hips," he explained. "Your right leg is positioned here..." he stopped to show her, moving her into place. "...With your weight behind the knee. You hold the reins like this..." Again he stopped to move her fingers into the correct position. Then he stepped back to assess the final product.

Marybeth felt exhilarated. It had been years since she had been on a horse and she had utterly forgotten how it felt--to be up so high, riding along on a powerful animal at breakneck speeds. Of course, Dakota was only standing there. But the anticipation went to Marybeth's head like a tonic. Her heart sped up slightly and she was a little flushed. She was itching to start moving.

"Are you nervous?" Wade asked. She radiated tension, but he misinterpreted its cause.

Marybeth snorted derisively. "Of course not. Lets start this lesson."

Wade stepped back and told her to start. "Keep it at a walk."

She pressed her leg against the horse's flank and Dakota started moving at a sedate pace. After they made one complete circle around the ring, Wade called out, "Trot!"

Marybeth adjusted the reins and pressed Dakota again. The horse shifted into a trot, and this time she had to concentrate as she accustomed herself to the unfamiliar saddle and posture.

But unknown to either of them, they were being watched by another pair of eyes.

Completely unnoticed, Atlas had come loping through the yard, but he stopped, curious, when he saw the spectacle of a riding lesson in the back paddock. He recognized Marybeth, of course. He knew her by sight and was familiar with her scent--not only did it come from her personally, he could also smell it on Wade's clothes sometimes when he came home late at night. But he had never seen anybody ride the horses in the paddock except for Wade and Ella. The novelty of the strange woman on the back of one of their horses kept him watching avidly, as he sat and panted by the bushes.

They made the circuit a couple times and Wade was satisfied enough to call out, "Are you ready to canter?"

"Yes!" Marybeth called back. But she had overestimated how balanced she was. As soon as Dakota moved into the canter, Marybeth started to lose her seat and she struggled to regain it. At the same time, the sight of the cantering horse with the strange woman on it was too much for Atlas. His instinct to chase overwhelmed the training he had received at the hands of his beloved Scarlett and he was off like a shot after Dakota. The gentle mare was unused to being rushed and she shied away--causing Marybeth to tumble off onto her back, getting the wind knocked out of her.

In an instant, Wade was crouching by her side. "Just stay still," he said breathlessly. He ran his hands over her shoulders and hips quickly, feeling for any obvious break or dislocation.

Marybeth was appalled at the look in Wade's face--his was a look of stark fear as he checked her.

"Oh, Wade. Don't fuss," she implored as she pushed his hands away.

"I'm making sure you're not hurt."

"Hurt?" She laughed. "Just from that little bitty fall? Land sakes, you're carrying on as if I'd broken my neck." She rolled over and sat up. Her hat was askew, but the many pins Mrs. Meade had stuck in it before she left the house prevented it from falling off her head.

Atlas sensed he had been a very bad doggie. He sidled up to Marybeth and Wade, tail between his legs and whining abjectly. She held her hand out to him and he licked it as a gesture of contrition..

Wade frowned at Atlas and looked as if he were going to say something, but checked himself. Instead, he sat back on his heels and said, "If you don't want to continue this lesson, I'll understand."

"Why Wade Hampton Hamilton. Don't be silly. Of course I want to continue. After all, I've just learned one of the ways not to sit on a horse."

oOoOoOo

Wade found Marybeth to be an apt pupil. She was eager to learn everything he tried to teach her, and was willing to practice over and over until she got the technique right. But just the same, riding became a source of contention between them, and they started having silly little quarrels.

"Raise the bar, Wade. Won't you please?"

"No." His voice was quiet, his tone implacable.

"But two feet is so tame. Just raise it six inches, that's all. Just six inches more."

"Absolutely not."

"Oh please, for me..."

"Marybeth, I don't believe you're ready."

"I am. Let me show you what I can do."

"Two feet is high enough."

"Two feet is high enough," Marybeth mimicked him.

"Very funny, but the answer is no."

Marybeth stuck her tongue out at him. "Fine. I'll do it your way. The boring way." And she yawned elaborately to show just how bored she was. But Wade would not be moved.

After she was mounted, he pressed her foot in its boot. "You worry me, Marybeth. You take the corners too close and too fast. There's nothing wrong with a more easygoing pace, you know."

"Dakota wants to go fast. I can tell--just feel how tense her muscles are. She's bored going slowly, too. So I let her do what she wants, and we're both happy. But not you."

"I also want you to have a more secure seat."

"Are you referring to those couple of times I got thrown? What's the big deal? I don't bawl about it and I always get right back on the horse."

Wade sighed and Marybeth reached down for his hand. "Don't worry, Wade. I have you to teach me, don't I? And look how much I've learned. From you."

Wade shook his head, amused but not fooled by her flattery. "The answer is still no. Show me what you can do with a two-foot bar." And he stepped back to let her go, ignoring the petulant toss of her head.

He watched her make the circle with a vague feeling of regret that he had ever offered to teach her how to ride. He was proud of her progress, to be sure, but riding brought out a side of Marybeth he hadn't imagined was there. It was as if there were two Marybeths--one was the ladylike girl he courted--the other was this fearless creature who wanted to jump higher and canter faster than anybody else around...

"Marybeth, slow down! You're not a cowboy!"

oOoOoOo

It was a hot, sticky day after all when Wade and Marybeth, Beau and Ella were able to go on a picnic together. They rode out to the Creek by way of the trails and found a shady clump of trees to spread out the blanket.

After they ate, Marybeth rested her back against one of the trees. Wade stretched out on the blanket and laid his head in her lap and played idly with the end of her long braid. Whenever she rode, Marybeth liked to wear her hair braided because it was smooth and comfortable under the riding hat--not like the fashionable curls and pins and bumps of current fashion. Restless Ella had her heart set on picking daisies and Beau went with her to help, so they were relatively alone.

The heat made Marybeth drowsy and she closed her eyes, one hand on Wade's chest, the other hand languidly swinging a fan as he told her about his day at work.

"...so the company notified us that the new typewriter will arrive this coming Tuesday."

Marybeth smiled and brushed away a fly that whined by her ear, but didn't open her eyes. "And high time, too. You've been waiting for it for how long?"

"Well, let's see. Jeb Clarke first suggested it back in March. He said it would help him with his secretarial duties--and I think he's right. Then we had to convince Mr. Stewart and Mr. Morris. That wasn't easy, let me tell you. They're both set in their ways--you know how old people are..."

"Yes I do," said Marybeth, thinking about the Meades with amusement.

"I explained how important it is to keep up with the new firms that are opening. They all type their documents. And they look good. No more trying to read sloppy, cramped handwriting. But in all humility, I think what turned them around was Clarke's offering to stay late every night until he learned how to use it."

"Is it really that hard to learn?"

"No, I shouldn't say so--not exactly. We went down to the telegraph office to see the one they had there. The hardest part will be for him to memorize where the keys are--each letter has a key, and punctuation marks, too, and numbers. But you're not supposed to look at the keys when you type."

"Then how--?"

"The typist has to memorize--to go by feel."

"That sounds hard to me."

Wade shrugged. "Well...you have to memorize the keys when you're learning piano, right? You're not supposed to look at piano keys, either. By the way, how are your lessons going?"

Marybeth opened her eyes and gave a wry smile. "Poor Mrs. Meade. She's been very patient with me, to her credit. I never thought it would be that hard. My left hand doesn't know what my right hand is doing. And then I get all mixed up. But I can play O Tannenbaum. At least Mrs. Meade turns her head away when she makes a face."

"You're really very fond of her, aren't you, Marybeth?"

"I am. She's good to me. But then," she added practically, "I take care of her, too."

"I was always afraid of her when I was little. We children all were. She always looked so stern and forbidding. Aunt Melly said it was because she'd had two little boys and lost them in the War. So then I felt sorry for her. But still afraid of her. Honest to say, I felt rather sorry for you before I met you, living with those two old people."

"That is funny. They're like family to me now. But on the other hand, I didn't meet them when I was a little child. Maybe that makes a difference. Plus, she told me all about Phil and Darcy. Do you know, the doctor never mentions them? But I've seen him looking at their pictures when he didn't know I was there..." Marybeth frowned and bit her lip, thinking. Then they were quiet again.

After some time had passed, Wade sat up and Marybeth took the opportunity to draw her knees up. Her legs had stiffened under the weight of him. He stood up and stretched. "How would you like to go wading in the stream? And we can check the horses at the same time."

She held up her hand and he pulled her to her feet.

At the edge of the stream there was an old tree stump. She sat down on it and started pulling off boots and stockings. He was done before her and went to pick up her boots. "We better put them under that bush to stay safe..." He picked up her boots and something shiny fell out of one of them.

"That's just mine," she said as she snatched it from the ground and folded it in her skirt.

"Marybeth, what did you have in there?"

"It's not important."

"Why can't you show me?"

She sighed and looked at him. "Fine. You can see." And she unfolded her skirt. With some surprise, he picked up the little knife she'd been carrying on her for the last few months.

"Where did you get this?" He asked in some amazement.

She shrugged. "Always had it," she murmured.

"But why?"

He hunkered down in front of her. She looked at her hands clenched in her lap. "Dante Martin," she whispered as her cheeks flamed.

Wade was rendered speechless. Did she really think she'd be able to defend herself with that little knife if she were attacked again? How ridiculous! But he looked at how rigidly she sat there, struggling for composure. She was reliving the fear and humiliation of that night. Instinctively, he reached out to give her the comfort she needed.

Pulling her close, he stroked her back and whispered, " You don't have to be afraid of Dante anymore. He's gone and can't touch you." He felt her arms go around his neck and she buried her face in his chest. Again he felt the desire to shield her from the dangerous world. "Besides, I won't let anybody hurt you. Or anything. You don't need to be afraid anymore."

Marybeth shuddered a bit, even as she surrendered to the feel of Wade's arms around her. She believed that he meant every word that he said. But he didn't know. There were things no man could know--what it was like to have your very body invaded against your will. Or about how sometimes Life did things to you that you couldn't prepare for or defend yourself against. Furthermore, he couldn't be with her all hours of the day just to guard her. But it was enough for her that he wanted to. She slid up against him and pressed her forehead against his throat, letting him rock and comfort her.

"Don't carry it anymore, please." He pulled back from her to peer into her face. She nodded. Her eyes were red, but she wasn't crying. He had never seen her cry, even that night he'd pulled Dante off her. Part of him thought that was rather odd, but he was too caught up in the feeling of holding her close to worry over it.

Marybeth bit her lip. She liked feeling that she had a weapon--just in case. But perhaps he had a point. Reluctantly she nodded. He pulled her to him again and murmured endearments into her hair.

"Didn't we come here to go wading?" Marybeth said, wanting to distract him. She needed to lighten the mood.

He gave her a squeeze and let her up and they stepped into the creek. The water was cold and very refreshing. Marybeth had hiked her heavy skirts over one arm and she envied Wade. All he had to do was roll up his trousers. Also, she felt the need to relieve her overwrought feelings.

"Wade!" She called. He was a few steps ahead of her, feeling the bottom of the creek with his toes.

"What is it?"

"Looky here."

He turned around and got a faceful of water. When he rubbed his eyes, he saw Marybeth taunting him with a big wide grin.

"Why you--" he sputtered and in one bound, ignoring the sharp stones, he grabbed her and picked her up, holding her like a child.

"Put me down! Put me down!" Marybeth gasped, laughing.

He was laughing too. "If you insist."

"No!" She shrieked. "Not in the middle of the creek! Put me on the bank this instant."

"Give me one good reason why I should."

"Because I can't get this habit wet. Because Mrs. Meade would scold me if I did. Because I'll tell everybody how you dumped me in the water and they'll all say you're a varmint."

"I don't care."

She tightened her hold around his neck and whispered in his ear, "Because I love you. And because you're a gentleman."

Wade gasped and crushed her to him. It was the first time she'd told him she loved him. Even if she'd told him in a joking, playful moment, he knew it was true. He knew her feelings before this, but there was something different about hearing it in words...

--He set her down gently at the edge of the creek.

As they were putting on their boots, Wade asked her again not to carry the knife. She nodded and held it out to him. He felt a little stunned at this gesture. He knew it meant she was putting her trust in him. But he refused it.

"Keep it, Marybeth. Just don't carry it anymore."

But the topic of Marybeth's safety let Wade to another topic in his mind--the man who used to be her protector. They were sitting on the picnic blanket hand in hand, and he noticed both her hands were bare and unadorned. He seemed to remember she used to wear a ring, but she must have stopped some time ago. He kissed her hand, then stroked the length of her braid. "What was he like?" He asked softly.

"Who?" Marybeth replied, a little confused. Surely he didn't mean to bring up Dante again!

"Your...your late...your Mr. Dandridge..."

Marybeth stiffened, felt the color drain from her face and looked down quickly. You knew he would ask you sooner or later. You know what you have to do. You know you have to tell him.

"Marybeth? What's wrong?" He asked, worried by her sudden pallor.

She tried to collect her scattered thoughts, but she couldn't think coherently. She fully believed that Wade deserved to be told the truth, to hear it from her. Courage. You know it's the right thing to do. She took a deep breath and dragged her gaze from the ground to look into his face.

His eyes, she noted, were so trusting, so loving. He had no notion of the sordid tale she was about to drop on him. And what would happen when she did tell him? Would he hate her? Draw back in disgust? Or just quietly jilt her?

He deserved to know the truth about her past. It was only right and fair. Not to mention honest. But on the other hand, she realized of a sudden that the happiest time in her whole life had been these last few months that he was courting her. Was she willing to put all that at risk for a mere principle?

And then there were the children. If she told Wade the truth he might keep her secret--but he would surely jilt her. Then there would be the awkward questions and speculations about why he did so. And if he did tell, would the Meades want to keep her anymore? Not that she was too proud to go looking for work again, but she would never find a position like the one she had now. Where could a woman find work with little children to look after? Of course, if worse came to worse, there was always the foundling home, but Marybeth would die before she left Edward and Christina in a place like that. They were hers, after all...

All this went through her head in a flash. Principle versus expediency. Scandal vs. respectability. She opened her mouth to speak.

"Joe was gregarious and friendly. Not too hard a worker, but we got by as well as we could." Then she looked down again, thoroughly appalled at herself at how easily the lie sprung from her lips.

Wade, although he saw her obvious distress, misunderstood the reason for it, so he blamed himself.

"It pains you to talk about it, doesn't it?"

The concern and caring in his voice pierced her. "Wade..."

"It was clumsy of me to push you."

"It's not that...don't think it..." Marybeth felt she couldn't contain her tension anymore. Like it or not, consequences or not, she had to tell him the truth. Would tell him. Right now. She looked back up at him and said, "Listen, it's..."

"Yoo-hoo! Just look at all the daisies we found!" Ella came bounding into the clearing with an armload of the yellow and white flowers, Beau following closely behind.

Wade was relieved at the appearance of his sister and his cousin. He felt awful about upsetting Marybeth and hoped that she would forget it now that they were no longer alone. he wouldn't bring up the subject again. But Marybeth felt like a door had shut, and now she was stuck with the lie she had told. And deep inside she doubted if she would have the fortitude to try to open it again...

Ella sat down heavily on the blanket next to Marybeth. "Did you ever make daisy chains?"

Marybeth managed a little smile. "Of course..."

"Then here," And Ella tossed some flowers onto Marybeth's lap. "I bet I can make a longer chain than you." Impulsively she hugged the other girl. "And don't look so serious! We're here to have fun. You can be serious later."

Marybeth felt a warm glow at Ella's affection. She certainly was lucky to have a friend like Ella. But even best friends had to be put in their place sometimes. "Surely you're not implying that you can make a better chain than I." And she started plaiting stems.

A/N: Hope everybody enjoyed the Holidays and has a Happy New Year! Oh, and BTW, thanks for all the reviews!!!