You all are so wonderful with your reviews! They make me want to write, write, write. Sadly, I do have a life that I have to tend to.
I keep reading all the disclaimers and always forget to include one myself, so here goes...I don't own GWTW. If I did two things would be different. Scarlett would've broken through their pride and told him how she felt the morning after he carried her up the stairs and of course, as a born and bred Southerner, I'd have to have the South win the War....ha, ha, ha. Then the slaves would've been freed anyway. As all true Southerners know, the arguement over slavery was just that and could have eventually been resolved as many other disputes between the sections had been; the thing that made them 'fightin' mad was the idea that the dam Yankees were trying to tell them what to do! Don't believe me? Take a ride through any back hills Southern area, where things haven't changed much in the past 100 years or so, and talk to the people. They can be real friendly and try to help with anything you ask; just don't try to tell them what to do. It's just in our blood, lol.
DIXIEDIXIEDIXIEDIXIEDIXIEDIXIEDIXIEDIXIEDIXIEDIXIE
As the week progressed, Rhett spent more time awake, although still fuzzy from the heavy doses of laudanum that Scarlett was giving him. He seldom spoke but when awake, his eyes watched Scarlett constantly. He watched as she dozed in the chair next to the bed, as she began to feed him, when she changed his bandages and saw to his other personal needs. He listened when the doctor quizzed her about his bodily functions and winced when he realized what her care giving had entailed. Scarlett was not the type to be involved with such distasteful duties, yet she seemed unfazed by the task. Once he had been awake when she performed the task of cleaning him up and changing him and he'd been mortified, but she went about the task as if it were nothing. All he could think was that a wife shouldn't have to do such things for her husband. As if reading his mind, she'd looked directly into his eyes lovingly. "If not a wife then who?" She'd asked. "Don't you think for one minute, Rhett Butler that I'm going to trust your nursing to someone who doesn't care? Why, they might not clean you properly and you'd get infected and then I could lose you. No, I'll take care of you because I know that you'll get proper care." It was then that he began to believe it was true; that maybe she did love him, really love him, after all.
Scarlett was diligent in all the doctor's instructions, from how to clean and treat the burns to making sure he drank lots of water, to keeping his burned limbs slightly elevated. She had been frightened by the doctor's list of other complications that might arise but as each day passed her worry eased. Sometimes she believed that there were so many small details and that surely she was forgetting some, but her self-doubt did not deter her from her task. She was relieved to see the horrid blisters began to shrink and was beginning to think the chalky white skin of his deeper burns was also improving. Each day, more and more dead skin fell away as new skin formed underneath. Still, the affected areas looked nothing like normal skin.
One stuffy afternoon she looked particularly tired. He watched as she fought sleep to tend to him. "Sleep," he told her.
She smiled wearily at him. "I'll take a nap while you sleep," she told him.
"No…now," he insisted. "Mother can sit with me until I fall asleep. You need sleep…a real sleep, not a nap." Tears formed in her eyes as her hand went to the left side of his face, gently stroking him. "No. I won't sleep anyway," she said as her eyes moved off to the side.
"The nightmare again?" he asked.
"Yes, only it is worse now…the fog…it…its smoke and you're lost in it and I can't find you…can't save you."
"You already have, my pet," he said as his hand found hers and squeezed it. "Please try to sleep."
Reveling in his use of 'my pet,' something she had not heard in a very long time, especially in such a gentle tone, she acquiesced. "Alright, I'll try," she surrendered. "But I'll wait until you fall asleep…"
"Then give me the medicine now…I want to you lie down and really sleep…for as long as you need. Besides, the blisters are particularly irritating today and I think the new skin is beginning to hurt. It might be better if I sleep through the day."
It didn't take long for Rhett to drift into sleep and Scarlett sent the maid to find Mrs. Butler. She agreed to stay with Rhett, although she couldn't understand why it was necessary. He was doing much better now. "I won't have him in here alone," Scarlett insisted. "What if he wakes up and needs something?"
The older woman conceded and took Scarlett's place in the chair beside the bed. Scarlett trudged down the hall to the room that she had barely seen and fell into the bed. She was asleep almost instantly.
She woke up hours later and after freshening up, returned to his room. He was awake and the maid, Emma was sitting with him. "Where's Mrs. Butler?" Scarlett asked, irritated that the senior Mrs. Butler had left Rhett in the maid's care.
"She fell asleep," Rhett told Scarlett. "I told her to go to bed. Emma has been kind enough to sit with me."
Scarlett glanced at the former slave and calmed a bit. Emma was wide awake and apparently had been watching Rhett closely. Also, Scarlett noted a fresh pitcher of water on the nightstand. "Thank you, Emma. I'm back now so you may go to bed also."
Emma rose and nodded. "Yes'm. Mista Rhett drank 'bout half a glass of water and I gives him a few crackers and a little bit of ham to eat. That all he wanted."
"Thank you, Emma." Rhett smiled.
After the maid left, Scarlett sat in the chair. "You ate?"
Rhett nodded. "Emma insisted I try to eat something, so I took a few bites to satisfy her."
"You sound a little stronger," Scarlett observed.
"You look better…more rested," he said, his dark eyes studying her.
Yes, I did need the sleep. I'm feeling refreshed now." Her green eyes settled on him as she tried to understand his mood. He seemed curious.
Silence filled the room for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts until he broke the quiet. "Why are you still here, Scarlett?" His tone was questioning but she detected no anger in his query.
His question caught her by surprise but she recovered quickly, her mind scrambling for an answer that wouldn't upset the peace that seemed to be between them. "You are not yet well," she replied evenly.
He nodded solemnly. "And when I am well?"
As she watched his expression, she detected a glimmer in his eyes, perhaps hope even. "For now I only want to think about your recovery. Let's leave any discussions about after for another day. I know what I hope for but I think you have much to consider."
"You believe that I will change my mind just because you came to take care of me? Is that why you came, Scarlett? "
"I told you, I came because your mother wired me. And I stayed to be sure that you were well cared for. You were dying Rhett and I refuse to let that happen…not yet. As for the rest…I was a fool for a very long time. If I go back to Atlanta alone, I will do so without regret because I will have fought for you as hard as I know how, but I do not intend to return alone. However, if you decide that you will be happier without me, then I will leave because I now understand that I love you enough to give you your freedom. I am not here to cause you more pain. My wish is for you to be well, Rhett, and then I hope for you to be happy."
He looked at her suspiciously. She could tell he didn't believe her but in all the hours of sitting with him, willing him to live, she realized that for the first time in her life she loved someone else more than she loved herself. Even her supposed love for Ashley had been selfish. But as she watched Rhett lingering between life and death, she knew that she loved him enough to do anything for him, even give him up.
Rhett's mood was cautious for the rest of the day. Saying little, he simply lay in his bed, watching her and trying to understand. Once or twice he had chuckled a little, telling her that he would not give into her game.
"Whatever you want," she told him. "But there is no game." Then she opened a book and began to read to him as a way of passing the time. He half listened to her as his mind turned on their discussion. He wanted to believe her; that she had changed; but since when did a leopard change its spots? He asked himself that and other questions, not the least of which was how long could she be happy with the scarred shell that he had become.
Days passed and Rhett was well enough to sit up for an hour or more two or three times a day. He had lost all concept of time, not realizing how much had passed since the fire. In his mind there was only before and after time. Before time was everything that led to his retreat from Atlanta and after time was everything since he woke and found Scarlett beside his bed. He was beginning to find hope in the 'after time.'
As he improved, Scarlett began to trust his care more to others, Emma especially. Emma seemed unbothered by Rhett's appearance and took his melted flesh and scars in stride, never flinching or wincing or giving Rhett any reason to feel uncomfortable with his appearance. Scarlett knew he needed that. Although it still hurt her immensely to see what the fire had done to him, she had grown accustomed to his appearance and seldom noticed the severity of his disfigurement except when tending to the few sores that lingered.
Rhett was grateful to Emma for the peace that her presence brought. She was kind and caring but not doting and her matter of fact approach made him feel almost normal in appearance. He could relax when she attended him. Scarlett seemed to be comfortable with his appearance also, he noted. A few times he caught a grimace from her when she thought he wasn't looking, but he concluded that her reaction was more to the few remaining open sores than his appearance as a whole. He knew the skin on his face was growing healthier and to his chagrin even found a patch or two on the damaged side that required shaving. He had been afraid at first, fearful that the razor might inflict more damage, but calmed as he moved the blade over his stubble without incident. A knick on his chin a few days later had even produced a chuckle as he found a sense of ordinariness in the incident.
He felt a little stronger each day and looked forward to being his own man again. But that would produce a new set of challenges, he realized as he sat in his chair one sultry afternoon. He would need his own quarters. His own sister couldn't bear to see him and his mother would visit but could hardly look at him. He couldn't stay in his mother's house under such circumstances. Yes, a place of his own was required, he mused. But how would he go about securing one? If he asked his mother, she would object and he would have to explain, making her feel guilty in the process. His only resort was to ask Scarlett to find a place for him. Yes, he thought, I'll ask Scarlett.
She listened to him later that day as he explained what he wanted. "But who will care for you?" she asked when he had finished.
"I'll take Emma with me," he replied carefully. Watching her closely, he could tell that she wasn't happy with his plan.
"And what about me? Where will I stay?"
"If I am well enough to have my own house, then it will be time for you to return to Atlanta. You'll be off the hook, Scarlett. You can return to your life there…the store, the children, and Ashley."
He watched as tears threatened to form in her eyes and he saw her determination that it would not happen. "Oh, I see. You are ready for me to leave," she said evenly but anger and rejection lingered beneath her flat comment.
"Don't you think it is time, my dear? Your businesses have suffered I'm sure. And since I am no longer in need of…"
"The store is in good hands. My businesses no longer need me."
"…your care," he concluded. Confusion swept through him. "You trust the store to someone else?"
"Yes," she answered with gleaming eyes.
"But…."
"I lost interest….after you left. I haven't been there in ages except to pick up a few items for the children."
"And what of the charming Mr. Wilkes?"
"I see him on occasion, when Beau came to play with the children or at Aunt Pitty's…."
Rhett rested his head against a pillow as he coolly took in this new information. "So you no longer see him daily."
"I haven't seen him at all since I've been here. But no, I was not seeing him regularly. In fact, I saw very little of him after Mellie's funeral. He seemed to need comfort that I couldn't give him. Beau came over occasionally for Wade and Ella, but that stopped when they went to Tara to visit."
As he absorbed the information, he studied her face for signs of deception. "I am surprised, my pet. I thought that you would delight in the opportunity to comfort your amour. And he was willing…" he let the sentence drop, as he was certain he had made his point.
Scarlett stared at him suspiciously. He seemed to want to renew the old quarrel. But she was determined not to let him bait her into an argument. "I am comforting my amour." She said it with confidence.
A strange gleam passed through his eyes as he watched her. "But you said he needed comfort that you couldn't give…"
"I can't give it to Ashley, but I am delighted to comfort my amour in any manner he chooses," she smiled. "…and more," she added coyly.
He scoffed at her answer. "Your only amour is yourself, Scarlett. I used to relish that trait in you, but it tires me now." His face settled into melancholy.
Scarlett bit back a retort, not wanting to upset him. "Perhaps one day, you'll see that I've changed, Rhett. But just now, I think it is time for a nap. I know I am fatigued and you must be also." With that, she ended the conversation and headed down the hall to her room, where she cried herself to sleep.
