Thank you all…or should I say ya'll, for the wonderful reviews!
To The MW, I didn't even think of The English Patient. Actually, this came to mind while reading a GWTW fanfic while watching Phantom of the Opera, so you know it has to be really twisted, right?
To those who queried if there is more to the story…I suppose the obvious answer is yes. And no, I haven't killed him….yet, lol.
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It was Rhett's mother who wired Scarlett about the 'accident.' She had understood enough of her son's mood when he came to Charleston to realize that there was trouble between the two, but Scarlett was his wife and her place was at his side, reasoned the woman. And so, knowing her son would not wish it, his mother sent for her.
The telegram didn't offer much information and Scarlett reread it with frustration as she sat on the train, willing it to go faster. Rhett hurt in serious accident. Needs assistance. Please come. That was it, nothing more.
Did Rhett ask for me? Scarlett wondered. Does he even know I was sent for? What happened? Will he turn me away? What if…no, you mustn't think that…He will recover. He has to recover. Perhaps, …perhaps this will be another chance for us.
Finally the train arrived in Charleston. Scarlett had telegraphed back to Mrs. Butler that she was on her way and when the train was expected. Consequently, a carriage waited for her at the depot and an elderly black man stood next to the depot, scanning the passengers for an indication of which one might be the younger Mrs. Butler. When Scarlett emerged from the car, the man's eyes lit. Dat's her. Has ta be, he concluded. She da most beautiful one on de train."
Approaching Scarlett, he tipped his hat. "Mizzus Butler?"
"Yes, I am Mrs. Butler," Scarlett replied.
"I's Wesley, ma'm. I works for Mr. Rhett's Mama. She sent me ta fetch ya back to da house."
"Yes. Alright. My bags …we must get my bags."
Wesley stepped to the baggage car and as Scarlett pointed out her bags to him, he carried them to the carriage. Then holding the door for her, he made sure she was settled in before he climbed into the box to drive her to the house.
"Wesley?" Scarlett called to the man.
"Yes'm?"
"How is Mr. Rhett?"
Wesley slumped into himself and a tear trickled down the old man's face as he answered. "He ain't so good ma'm. Do'tor been to da house two, three times a day to sees about 'em. He ain't so good."
"Oh," was all that Scarlett could manage, fear greater than any fear she had known before began to creep into her, filling her veins with ice.
When they got to the Butler house, Wesley led Scarlett inside and sent one of the woman servants to find the senior Mrs. Butler. Scarlett waited in the parlor until the woman appeared. She knew the moment she saw the older woman that Rhett was in bad shape. It was obvious that Rhett's mother had gone days without sleep and the dark circles under her eyes told of grief as well as tiredness. There was a broken, hollow expression in the woman's eyes that Scarlett recognized. She had seen it in her mirror after Bonnie died. Before her mother-in-law even spoke, Scarlett knew the news was worse than she had dared imagine. Her hand gripped the cloth of her dress that covered her heart as she cried out, "No! Please God, not Rhett too."
The elder woman rushed to Scarlett and embraced her, understanding and sharing in her grief and wishing to give comfort and perhaps find some too. "He's still with us," she told her daughter-in-law. "Doctor Morris doesn't understand how, but he is. But Scarlett, it is bad. He was burned, you see…"
Scarlett disengaged from the woman's grasp and stared into her eyes. "Burned?"
"Yes, the building caught fire and he stopped to help another person get out and…then it collapsed."
Scarlett's mind reeled at the image of Rhett under a burning building. "I want to see him," she stated firmly.
"Yes, of course. But I feel I must warn you, he…well, there is much damage to his flesh, you see…and I'm afraid the odor is…overpowering. And it will be difficult to recognize him."
Scarlett's eyes grew wide as she absorbed the woman's words. There had been soldiers in the hospital during the war that had been burned and Scarlett remembered the horror and the stench. She was frightened and for a moment wanted to run. But then as quickly, she collected herself. "Yes, I understand and now…if I may see him…"
She was led to his room. When they entered, the smell was what first drew her attention. It was awful. And then she saw that the shades were drawn and darkness enveloped the room with only a single candle burning on the dresser. "We thought it best," his mother explained. "The doctor said that if he awakened, light would hurt his eyes."
"Yes, I remember… at the hospital during the war; soldiers complained about the light. But we must have a little more than this." She stepped to the window that was farthest from the bed and lifted the shade about half way. Then she saw him on his bed. Bandages covered his right side. His arm was completely wrapped in them as was much of his side and his face. Oh, his face…Scarlett moaned softly.
Stepping closer to his bed, she could see a hint of the devastation in the lesser burns that remained uncovered. "What does the doctor say?"
Mrs. Butler choked back a tear and then answered. "He says it will be a miracle if he survives. And if he does, he will very likely wish he hadn't. Dr. Morris says the pain will be unbearable as the skin tries to heal and the likelihood of infection is almost a certainty."
Scarlett sat in a chair that was next to his bed. "May I have some time alone with him?" she requested.
"Of course," replied his mother and she quietly stepped out of the room to leave them alone.
Scarlett sat watching him for a few minutes, checking the rise and fall of his chest to be sure that he still breathed. And then she took his left hand in hers and held it. "Oh Rhett, oh please my love…you can't…I can't lose you too."
Memories flooded through her mind going all the way back to the barbeque at Twelve Oaks and Rhett standing at the foot of the stairs with that self assured grin; an expression that she had come to love over the years, one that she hadn't seen for far too long. She remembered him in Atlanta. "Oh how much I enjoyed dancing with you that night, Rhett. You remember don't you? Melly and I had donated our rings for the cause. Next thing I knew you were buying a dance with me. Everyone was so shocked but it felt so good to dance again, especially with you. You knew what I was thinking, didn't you. Of course you did; it seems like you always know what I am thinking, even when I am not sure of it myself."
Scarlett stroked his hand and then held it between her hands. "And you've always been there when I needed you. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come to take us out of Atlanta when the Yankees came." Her mind travelled back to the bridge on the road to Jonesborough. The memory of that kiss still had power over her, making her blush. Rhett was the only man that had ever kissed her like that; the only man that had ever aroused such feelings in her. "You remember that kiss don't you Rhett?" Her hand went to his face, gently stroking the left side. I need you to get better Rhett. I want you to kiss me like that again."
The air grew stuffy in the room as the afternoon sun crossed behind the house. As Scarlett touched his cheek, she realized how warm his skin was. Looking across at his dresser, she spotted a wash basin and pitcher. She retrieved it and headed down the hall. Emma, one of the maids saw her and stopped in the hallway. "You need somethin'?" she asked.
"Yes," replied Scarlett. "Could you fill this pitcher with cool water and bring me a wash cloth?"
"Yes'm." Emma took the pitcher and disappeared down the steps. Scarlett returned to his room and a few minutes later Emma returned with the water and cloth. Scarlett poured the water into the basin and dipped the cloth in it. Then carefully avoiding the burns, she began to wash his face and then proceeded down his body. She hoped the cool rag would provide some relief from the heat for him. At the very least, he would have one less discomfort.
"Oh my dear, you really should let one of the man servants do that," exclaimed Mrs. Butler from the doorway.
Scarlett glanced over her shoulder and then turned her attention back to Rhett. "No, I will tend to this," she answered.
"As you wish," replied the older woman before disappearing down the hall.
Scarlett returned to her task, carefully dabbing his healthy skin with the cool cloth. "You were such a devil, you know," she said, picking up on her memories of him. "To think that you were so quiet that afternoon in the library while I babbled on and on to Ashley about how I loved him and he mustn't marry Mellie. Why, thinking back now, it really was quite humorous, don't you think? And oh how you frightened me when you popped up from the settee out of nowhere…I think I was intrigued with you from that very first day…"
She dipped and squeezed the rag again and began down his arm. And your marriage proposal …that really was quite scandalous, but then I suppose I wasn't the model of propriety either. Why, we hadn't even cleared the parlor after poor Frank's funeral and there you were, big and bold as ever. You tried to tell me that you loved me that day but I must have frightened you in some way. Perhaps you were wise not to let me know how you felt then. I was still foolishly clinging to my infatuation with Ashley."
She paused from her ministrations and rested her hands in her lap. "But you know, later…after we were married, while things were still…happy between us; I wish you had told me then. I can't say for sure, but I think it would have made a difference. I think I might have come to my senses. But of course, we can never really know, can we?"
Rinsing the cloth again, she began dabbing. "The night of Ashley's party though…when you carried me up the stairs…it was frightening at first; I think because I had no control over what was happening and you know how I don't like that feeling. But you were so…heated…so amorous. I never knew that relations could be so…so… oh my, I'm blushing just remembering that night," she said as she felt her face flush.
"I wanted to tell you that morning…oh I'm not sure exactly what I would have said, but that night something changed. And when you came in that morning I hoped…I wanted …more of that feeling. And I wanted to tell you that…that well, I wanted you back in my bed…But you were apologizing and then you were talking about going away and it all went so wrong…"
She paused when Rhett moaned, as if he was trying to respond to her, to talk to her. He rolled his head a little, his face falling towards her, but his eyes remained closed and he quickly settled back into his slumber.
"We made a bay that night though, Rhett; and for the first time I was happy to be pregnant. I wanted that baby so much; it was your baby. Oh, I know Bonnie was your baby too and she was so beautiful, wasn't she? But this one was different, created from that night, those different feelings. Dr. Meade told me later that it would have been a boy. He would have been so handsome, so like you." Tears welled in her eyes as she thought of that particular loss. "I wanted him so much, Rhett," she whispered.
Grief overwhelmed her and she laid her head on the bed, next to his hand and held his hand to her face. "I've missed you so much. Nothing seems worthwhile now that you have left…" She thought she felt his fingers move but when she lifted her head, he seemed to be in his same deep sleep.
"Well, enough of sad talk. We must concentrate on your recovery. And you will recover Rhett Butler; I will not have it any other way, you understand?" She rinsed the rag one more time and completed her task, certain that the cool moisture had provided him some relief from the heat of the afternoon.
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See, I didn't kill him. So please be kind and review. Your enthusiasm and support in all the reviews for chapter one inspired me so much!