It's been a long time…but the story is back. I can't promise fast updates but I'm continuing and I hope all of you enjoy. Thanks so much for all your feedback and encouragement.

Chapter 9 – A Reunion

Scarlett maneuvered around the long bins of produce and around the thongs of women mulling about in large groups, some examining the goods while others merely gathered at the market to harvest the latest gossip. When she finally alighted through the crowd, she looked up for Rhett but a passing carriage blocked her view of the corner so she had to wait, wait for one carriage and then another to pass before she nearly skipped across the street in her anxiousness to see him again. She arrived at the corner slightly breathless, looked about and not finding Rhett anywhere, her face fell.

"Your face looks so beautiful when you're smiling. What do I have to do to see those dimples again?" came a smooth, drawling voice from over her shoulder.

With no warning, there he was, whispering into her ear from behind. She spun around and nearly lost her balance, so he raised his hands to her arms to steady her. She blushed and wrung her hands as he looked at her expectantly with a smirk on his face but no words came forth. She gulped. So he had noticed her. Had he sought her out?

How unutterably dear he was standing there with his eyes twinkling. Was he unaware of her excitement? She could not speak, but she put out a hand and laid it on his arm. He looked down at her tiny white hand on his gray linen suit, his stare so long that Scarlett's eyes, too, fell on her hand and she quickly withdrew it, embarrassed by her familiarity with this man who she hadn't seen in well over a year.

"It is good seeing you again, Captain Butler," she said once having regained a modicum of her composure. "It is Captain, isn't it? I've heard all the stories about your blockade running." She threw him a gay smile.

"Don't start flirting with me, Miss O'Hara, or is it Mrs. now? Is there a ring on your finger?" he asked casually yet his eyes were eager for an answer.

"Yes, it is still Miss," she answered coyly. "Why do you ask?" She spoke each word slowly as if she knew his answer full well and only wanted to draw out the suspense so that she could make the moment his answer came last.

"Well, I would have thought that a girl like you would have rushed headlong into marriage within the first months of the war breaking out. Surely you have noticed the glut of marriages of late? I find it hard to imagine that you, Scarlett O'Hara, the belle of—what—three counties—would still be unattached." He stressed the last word as he looked into her eyes as if searching for something.

Scarlett stared at him dumbfounded. This was not the answer she anticipated nor was this reunion going as she expected. He seemed so reserved, wary and unsure as though he were circling a wild horse, trying to find his best position before throwing his lasso. She had envisioned a passionate meeting with her running into his arms and him grinning widely as he picked her up and twirled her around.

"You underestimate me, sir. I am not that impetuous," she retorted, avoiding his eyes, until her longing to gaze upon his handsome face got the best of her and once again, her eyes rose up to meet his and she couldn't help but repress a smile.

"Ah, so you get high marks for your cautious approach to wedlock, but alas, I'll have to mark you down for your poor skills at correspondence."

"Correspondence? What do you mean—?"

Rhett quickly averted his eyes. "Nothing—," he answered abruptly. "Here, let's get out of the line of traffic," he said, taking her elbow in his hand and steering her away from the main thoroughfare and onto a side street that led to a residential area.

Once they stopped on the walk, Scarlett turned to face him and stared unflinchingly into his eyes. "I never got them."

"What?" Rhett asked casually, as he struck a match to light the cheroot he had withdrawn from his jacket pocket.

"Your letters."

"My what?" For a brief second Scarlett noticed that her admission has taken Rhett Butler by surprise. He froze in mid-motion as if he hung on her answer. She paused, savoring the moment and waiting, watching and dimpling while the match Rhett held burned down to his fingers. "Damn!" he swore, dropping the match to the ground and rubbing it out with the toe of his freshly polished boot.

"Are you all right?" she inquired with an unusually sugary sweet drawl.

"Yes! Yes!" he replied, sounding slightly annoyed as he brushed a cinder off his jacket.

Once she was confident she had regained his attention she continued under his questioning gaze. "Your letters to me," Scarlett answered with a smile. "You wrote me letters and I'm here to tell you that I never received them."

"Well, then how did you know—?"

"My mother. She told me you sent me letters—"

"Then why—"

"She burned them." Her voice didn't waver as her eyes pierced his. After a moment the intense seriousness that framed her face fell away and she turned coy. "You do know what that means, don't you?" She strolled ahead of him, paused and looked back at him over her shoulder.

"Aside from the obvious, you mean? That your moth—" He trailed after her, looking down upon her as she took a seat on a bench in front of a shop window on the secluded side street.

"It means," she folder her hands demurely in her lap, "that now you have to relate each and every detail of your letters to me—now—in person," her voice caressed this last word.

"Slow down. I have this strange feeling that I just arrived at the theater as act two is beginning to play out. Tell me, what did I miss in act one?" he asked, taking a seat on the bench beside her.

"Nothing terribly exciting, really. You saw my mother when you left Twelve Oaks, didn't you? You even heard her tell me how she didn't approve of my associating with you."

"Yes, I know all that. For years, I've been persona non grata in these environs, so it doesn't surprise me that my reputation preceded me to Clayton County, arriving at your mother's ears from some gossip monger attending the barbeque."

"Well, you are right about that. In any case, she didn't like what she heard and she—"

"She put down her foot about you having anything to do with me."

"Yes."

"And like a dutiful daughter you—"

"I didn't listen."

"Excuse me?"

Scarlett thought she saw a gleam of admiration in his eyes. "You heard me. Oh, Rhett! I waited for you. I thought you'd visit me at Tara and when you didn't well…I think my mother suspected something so my parents shipped me off to—"

"Atlanta," Rhett finished for her.

"No. First they sent me to Savannah. There, my grandfather, a cranky old man if ever there was one, told me that my mother had sent me to him to avoid a bad match. He even said I was just like my mother, alluding to something similar in her past, which I don't know about. I wasn't about to sit there while he insulted my family, and me so I left.

"Only my mother and father were not too happy to find me back at home and so, they sent me to Atlanta. I suggested Charleston, but they were not about to send me here," she said, pausing for emphasis, "where I would likely run into you."

"Well, then how did you—"

"I came here on my own. I wired my mother's sister here, Aunt Eulalie, and told her that I would be arriving shortly."

"And how did you finally convince your mother to let you come to Charleston?"

"I didn't."

Rhett's eyes looked questioningly at Scarlett's so she gave me the answer he sought. "Aunt Eulalie assumed the telegram came from my mother."

"Did she assume or did you lead her to believe it came from you mother?"

"Oh, just never mind that!"

"And are you prepared for your mother's wrath when she finds out that you deceived not just her but your aunts here as well?"

"Oh, Rhett! Let's not think about that now," Scarlett said brightly for the conversation was turning far too serious and reminded her of her plight should her mother ever discover her deception. However, now that she found Rhett, things were looking up. How could her mother be angry with her if she were engaged to Rhett, a blockade runner? In fact, if her plans proceeded as she expected, she would not have to worry about her mother because with the glut of war marriages, they might even elope and what could her mother say then other to wish her daughter happiness? "Let's think about that tomorrow!"

"As you wish my devious charmer."

At that moment, he stood and extended his hand to her. "Will you be so kind as to accompany me on a tour of Charleston or are you needed with your aunts?"

"I'm be most happy to, kind sir," Scarlett replied, fluttering her eyelashes.

"Well, then, we're off," Rhett answered and tucking her hand in the crook of his arm, they set off down the street at a leisurely stroll.

* * *

It was so exciting being with Rhett and he showed her a Charleston she never dreamed of. Just yesterday, Charleston was a hustling, dusty town at the epicenter of the war; today, the Charleston Rhett showed her was charming and tranquil, sequestering the two in a bubble that Scarlett hoped never to burst.

He started by taking her to a little pastry shop housed in the narrowest home she had ever seen on a quiet, unassuming residential street. The home was constructed in between two towering mansions, but with its yellow and white painted exterior, it looked cheery and welcoming to passersby. Rhett steered her by the elbow up the front porch where a red-faced rotund woman greeted them as if they were old friends. Inside, Rhett playfully pinched the woman's cheek until her eyes watered from giggling.

"Oh, Rhett, you awful thing you! Where have you been?" she asked, eyeing Scarlett up and down.

"Here and there. You know me, Ellie. Never can stay put in one place too long. But I have to admit, whenever I'm away from Charleston, I dream of you and your pastries."

The woman doubled over again in another bout of giggles and Scarlett silently begged Rhett to stop flirting long enough for the woman to help them place an order. "For heaven's sakes, he's as bad as I am!" she thought while observing their interaction. Finally, Rhett moved to the counter and chose two confections, doused in powered sugar. Ellie wrapped them in paper, tied with a bow and after she bestowed a big, sloppy kiss on Rhett's cheek, they went on their way.

"Where are we going?" Scarlett inquired, who was all too eager to indulge in the pastries.

"You'll see," was Rhett's only response as he again, took her by the arm and steered her down the walkway toward another street.

A couple of minutes later, they arrived at a quiet residential park thick with willow trees and tall oaks. Rhett found them a secluded bench on which to sit. He unwrapped the pastries and invited her to take one.

"Oh, I haven't had anything like this in an age!" Scarlett exclaimed, diving right in with a big bite, which only left her upper lip and nose covered in the sugary white powder. "Where does she get her ingredients? I can't remember when I last saw white sugar," she mumbled with her mouth full.

"She has her connections, I suppose."

"You?"

"Me?" he asked with a cocked eyebrow. "Why would you think that? I'm here to serve our Glorious Cause. I wouldn't think of risking my life to bring in luxury items," he said with bravado, covering this heart with his hand.

"I don't believe you."

"What? I risk my life to serve Our Glorious Cause and you doubt my sincerity?"

"Yes."

"No matter," he replied, taking his own bite of the sugary confection. "But that's exactly what I like about you. You say what you think; to hell with what others may say. My first impression of you was right. You're a girl who is not only beautiful, but who has courage, too."

Basking in his flattery, it was on the tip of Scarlett's tongue to try and tease another compliment from him, but remembering his earlier caution about flirting, she turned to another subject. "But truly, you've become quite the famous blockader. Why there's talk all over Atlanta about how brave you are and what a—what a—"

"I can't bear to take advantage of your little girl ideals any longer. I'm a blockader—for profit and profit alone. The other stuff doesn't mean much to me."

"You mean to tell me you don't care about The Cause?" Scarlett asked with her mouth agape.

"Rhett Butler is the only cause I care about. Blockading is a business with me and I'm making money out of it. When I stop making money out of it, I'll quit. I leave on another trip tomorrow—"

"You're leaving—so soon?"

"Dare I hope that you'll miss me?"

"Oh, don't presume!"

"Ah, so you will miss me. Knowing that a spirited girl with fire in her green eyes is pining for me will certainly take some of the loneliness out of the voyage, but cheer up, I won't be taking too many more. What do you think of that?" he asked quizzically, raising an eyebrow.

Not sure how to interpret his last comment, Scarlett decided to plead ignorance. "What do you mean? You are not going to continue blockading?"

"Exactly," he grinned. "Right now the Yankees are helping me make my money. Why, last month I sailed my boat right into New York harbor and took on a cargo."

"What!" cried Scarlett, interested and excited in spite of herself. "Didn't they shell you?"

"My poor innocent! Of course not. There are plenty of sturdy Union patriots who are not averse to picking up money selling goods to the Confederacy. I run my boat into New York, buy from Yankee firms, sub rosa, of course, and away I go. And when that gets a bit dangerous, I go to Nassau where these same Union patriots have brought powder and shells and hoop skirts for me. It's more convenient than going to England. Sometimes it's a bit difficult running it into Charleston or Wilmington—but you'd be surprised how far a little gold goes."

"Oh, I knew Yankees were vile but I didn't know—"

"Why quibble about the Yankees earning an honest penny selling out the Union? It won't matter in a hundred years. The result will be the same. They know the Confederacy will be licked eventually, so why shouldn't they cash in on it?"

"Licked—us?"

"Of course."

Despite the heat, Scarlett shivered at his words as their full meaning set in. Noticing her discomfort, Rhett took the last bite of his pastry. "In any case, when the Yankees stop helping me make money, I'll stop and that's why I say I won't be taking too many more excursions. I see you're enjoying the pastry," he observed, changing the subject deftly.

"Ummmm, isn't this good? Why it is pure heaven!" Scarlett exclaimed, licking some of the sugar off her fingers.

"You look like a child with birthday cake all over her face," Rhett pointed out.

"Really? Oh, I don't really care. This is too good!"

"I must say, I don't think I've ever been entertained quite so much while watching someone eat." Rhett leaned back and rubbed his hands together to dust off any lingering powder as Scarlett continued eating.

"Are you finished already? How did you stay so neat?" Scarlett scrutinized Rhett, who lounged easily on the bench, not a hair out of place, not a speck of sugar on his lips or on his mustache.

"It's a gift. You on the other hand…well," he said as he appraised her from head to toe. "You…ahem…I'm afraid you need a…a…bath."

"Oh, you!" cried Scarlett, trying desperately to dust herself off. She brushed her face with her fingers and stood to shake crumbs from her skirt. "There. Is that better?"

"Sit down." Rhett reached for her hand and drew her back to the bench, settling her close beside him. "You overlooked a few areas," he mused as his eyes scanned her face. "Like here," he whispered, brushing his finger over the tip of her nose. "And, here." He leaned in closer and his thumb, feather light, caressed her cheek. His eyes sought out hers and held tight, their eyes locked in a trance with neither seemingly wanting to risk a movement that would break the spell.

Scarlett sat breathless with anticipation. "He's going to take a liberty. He's going to kiss me," she told herself and without any conscious effort, her lips parted slightly and trembled under his steady gaze. She had already decided to let him take a liberty for it had been so long since he had kissed her last and that memory alone had sustained her for the last year and a half. But he made no move to kiss her. He simply stared at her as if he was memorizing every nuance of her face.

Scarlett sat motionless, frozen by Rhett's gaze, sensing that she was on the brink of something but what she didn't know. The bells in Saint Michael's began to toll the hour; still their gaze never wavered. The bells chimed…one…two…three…and then, it seemed as if time stood still. Scarlett inhaled sharply as Rhett's thumb lightly traced her full lips.

Four…five…six… Scarlett turned her lips into Rhett's waiting palm, inexplicably moved to lightly caress his thumb with her parted lips, moistening them with her tongue before bestowing a gentle kiss.

Seven…eight…nine…Scarlett watched Rhett from underneath her lowered lashes and despite the dream-like stillness with her blood rushing through her ears, she saw a crack in Rhett's cool control as he sucked in a breath at her touch. Then, with black eyes that appeared to burn with a golden fire, he leaned toward her until his lips were mere inches from hers.

Ten…eleven…the bells tolled and Scarlett closed her eyes and turned her lips up toward his. The bells struck for the twelfth time but instead of feeling his lips upon hers, she felt his fingers tuck a wisp of her hair that had fallen loose back behind her ear. Her questioning eyes looked to his for an answer.

"Come, let's walk," he said, pulling a bewildered Scarlett up by the arm.