Author's Note - I have not written in a while, and I nearly had this story complete a month ago, when my computer ate it. The story has changed in the meantime, but I hope that you enjoy it. Thank you for reading, and a special thank you to Bella for helping proof it when I couldn't stand to look at it any more!
A sheen of frost coated the ground - delicate icy crystals clinging to overgrown weeds that sparkled in the sunlight, which deceptively offered no warmth. The wind whipped around the house, rattling through the cracked window panes which were a testament to the war that had just ended. Inside the house the carpets, which once had warmed the floor, were now threadbare or missing altogether. Nothing inside was as it once had been.
Scarlett O'Hara sat nibbling on the tip of the feather quill as she pondered what she could say in response to Aunt Pitty's most recent request for either Ashley or Melanie or preferably both to come and live in Atlanta. Pitty was as desperate for them to come as Scarlett was for them to stay. As much as it galled Scarlett, she needed Melanie's help in taking care of the children, and she couldn't bare the thought of being away from Ashley again, not after his long absence up North. And besides Ashley was toiling daily at chores that were far beneath him. Neither of them could be spared, and she had tried to explain this to Aunt Pitty in each missive that had traveled between Tara and Atlanta, but the reasoning fell on deaf ears. In each letter Pitty wailed "I'm afraid to live by myself!"
She dropped the quill in irritation, pulling the threadbare quilt more tightly around her shoulders as she tucked her feet under the chair, for her worn out shoes offered no warmth. They all had taken to lining their tattered shoes with threadbare carpet remnants, for there was nothing else at Tara that could be used, which despite offering some protection by elevating their feet off of the floor; it did little to ward off the cold. She rubbed her hands together and blew her warm breath across them. She reached for the letter that she had previously cast aside No- greedily taking in the news of life in Atlanta. Pitty spoke of how Rhett Butler had returned to Atlanta with a new carriage and fine clothes and piles of greenbacks. The thought of Rhett having all that money made her furious. Why should he have so much when she was struggling to simply feed those under her roof, praying that their meager supplies would last until spring. After the way he had left her on the road to Rough and Ready, he could burn in Hallifax for all she cared. Anything was better to think of than their present situation, but in a way looking back was even worse. It hurt too much to remember.
She was startled by the thumping that she soon recognized of the sound of Will's wooden leg as he made his way across the bare wooden floor. He had taken the horse to town to the blacksmith. It was bitter irony that the only creature in the household to have new shoes was the horse. The door creaked open as Will stumped into the room. His cheeks pinked from the cold, as he moved towards the fire crackling on the hearth to warm his hands, she smelled the fresh clean air as he passed by her, a chill clinging to his clothes.
He wasted no time in beating around the bush. "Miss Scarlett," he questioned, "just how much cash money have you got?"
Of all of the things that he could have asked, this was the last thing that she could have possibly imagined. "Are you going to try to marry me for my money, Will?" She asked coyly, teasing him in a way that she could do with no other that currently lived at Tara.
He offered no further elaboration, only a simple, "No, Ma'm. But I just wanted to know."
She was momentarily struck speechless, completely bewildered by what Will could be wanting. She felt a tight knot forming in her stomach, as the silence hung heavily through the room.
Finally she blurted out, "I've got ten dollars in gold-the last of that Yankee's money."
His voice was matter-a-fact. "Well, Ma'm, that won't be enough."
The ice surrounding her shattered as the statement pierced suddenly and so painfully that her head was now throbbing as she asked in irritation. "Enough for what?"
"Enough for the taxes," he answered and turned back to the fireplace, leaning down and holding his red hands to the blaze. There was a singular ease and nonchalance in his posture.
She sighed in relief. Why was he worrying about the taxes when he knew that she had already paid them. "Taxes?" she repeated. "Name of God, Will! We've already paid the taxes." She picked up the quill and was poised to resume her letter when Will spoke.
He voice maintained the same cool unaffected speech as if he was telling her something of such little significance such as the cow walked past the house to the barn. "Yes'm. But they say you didn't pay enough. I heard about it today over to Jonesboro."
"But, Will, I can't understand. What do you mean?" The headache that had been forming pulsed insistently as Will detailed the situation.
"But they can't make us pay more taxes when we've already paid them once." She cried in horror.
His words were more than she could take in until even more horrific words spewed from his lips . "I found out that somebody wants to buy Tara cheap at the sheriff's sale, if you can't pay the extra taxes. And everybody knows pretty well that you can't pay them."
Scarlett snapped at him in frustration, "How much extra taxes do they want us to pay?" Surely it couldn't be too much, Tara hadn't been able to produce much of anything in the last several years.
He did not hesitate, "Three hundred dollars."
Her chest hurt as if all of the air in her lungs was crushed out of them. She felt like she had once as a child when she had fallen out of a tree onto her back. For a moment, the room felt as though it was spinning, and there was suddenly no air to be found. She silently tried to compose herself as she struggled to make sense of the situation. Certainly, she had misunderstood him. Because they couldn't be demanding three hundred dollars, that was ridiculous. Three hundred dollars! It might just as well be three million dollars. The thought of losing Tara after having lost so much was devastation beyond her grasp. It was too horrible for her to imagine. "Oh, but Will! They couldn't sell out Tara. Why-"
With her voice ever rising, she paced back and forth wringing her hands together, desperately offering solutions of mortgaging Tara or a loan or selling her earbobs, each plaintive plea more pathetic than the next. They had so little left, and no one that she knew had any more than they did. But each desperate suggestion was quickly and logically refuted by Will.
After offering every possibility that had occurred to her, the room fell silent again. Scarlett felt as if she were butting her head against a stone wall. There had been so many stone walls to butt against this last year—so many hurdles and obstacles, that she didn't quite remember what life had been before she had to scramble and scrounge.
"What are we goin' to do, Miss Scarlett?" Will prodded, looking at her as they all did for answers that she could not provide. How was she going to handle this. There seemed to be no solution. Never at any other time in her life had she felt so completely helpless and desperate. She was the only thing standing between her family and being thrown out of their home with nothing at all left to their names.
"I don't know," she said dully . Her heart was heavy and for a moment she felt that she didn't care, that there was nothing left to care about. "But don't let Pa know. It might worry him." Her shoulders ached as if a physical weight had settled upon them. She rolled her shoulders as if she might be able to shrug off this heaviness.
She was worn out and her head fell into her hands as she dropped heavily back into the seat she had recently vacated. How was she going to pay the taxes? She was dumbfounded by the dilemma. And yet no solution presented itself to her. No one had that kind of money lying around, yet she must do something. What choice did she have? As much as she longed to pass this burden on to someone else, there was no one else to lay it upon.
She closed her eyes, struggling to keep from shedding tears. Perhaps this was all a nightmare, and she would wake to find that her dreams were tormenting her. "I will think of something Will. I simply must."
Will tipped his hat to her and headed out the back door.
She sat in the silent room, rubbing her thin fingers at her temples, desperately trying to find a solution to this devastating dilemma. She rose from her seat and walked to the front of the house, hoping that something would come to her. Just as she strode past the front door, she was startled by a sudden pounding on the door. She pulled the quilt around her, hurriedly trying to be the one to answer the summons instead of her father or one of her sisters-dreading that the knock might mean that someone was bringing the same information that Will had just imparted to her or worse, an eviction notice. Her heart pounding even more loudly than its counterpart at the door.
The door slowly opened, whining as it opened on the rusty hinges. A blast of cold air met her, whipping around her and tugging at the tattered blanket around her shoulders. She could not remember the last time that she had cared about how she looked or had taken the time to make sure that her hair was properly done. And yet in reality she was too tired and too beaten down to do anything but give the thought a moments consideration. But of all people to be standing at the door, he was the one person that. suddenly made her feel white hot shame rushing through her at her present state. With no visitors she had stopped worrying about her threadbare clothes and her appearance, and yet now the contrast between her appearance and his was enough to stun her into silence. His clothes were as carefully tailored as always and the very height of fashion she was certain. His hair was neatly trimmed, and he looked to be no worse for the wear of the war. He looked exactly as he had that day at Twelve Oaks.
She led him into the parlor, carefully shutting the door behind them, not wanting to have to explain his visit to any of the members of the household just yet. And yet the lessons of her childhood had not been forgotten, and she instantly turned on her charm as if she was still living in the life she had prior to the war. "It is so nice of your to stop by. You look wonderful Rhett. How have you been?" She cooed prettily.
His dark eyes shone brightly, piercing her with their intensity. His voice was like iron as he spoke, "A damned site better than you are. I won't lie to you and tell you that you look lovely because you don't; you look like hell. What's been going on here?"
"Things have been a little strained, but we are going to be fine. We don't need your help." She seethed. As desperate as she was, she couldn't let him know how precarious a position they were currently in.
"Oh really, my pet? And pray tell how exactly are you managing?"He replied smoothly. "Quite tastefully dressed as you are and as well-fed, everything is going wonderfully, isn't it?
All of her anger at what her life was, at the Yankees who had raised the taxes on Tara, and every bit of residual anger at Rhett for abandoning her spewed forth. She launched herself at him, her small, work worn, blistered and bruised hands beating against his chest. But Rhett was too seasoned of a fighter for her to inflict any real damage. He pulled her against him, crushing her hands between their bodies, and slowly the anger faded leaving exhaustion and tears in its place. She weakly sagged against him, crying until she was spent, allowing his strength to support her.
Rhett led her to a chair, and once she was seated he pulled out a bright white handkerchief and began wiping the tears from her face. "Once you get yourself calmed down, we should take a walk.
She nodded mutely to his request, looking in the moment like a scared little girl, rather than the person responsible for the lives of everyone on the plantation.
Scarlett and Rhett were able to slip out the door without anyone's notice, as Scarlett struggled to regain her composure, drawing strength from Rhett's presence at her side. Finally she spoke, "Ashley is down at the orchard splitting rails for the fences that the Yankees broke and burned."
"Oh, how ideal. You were able to keep him here, close enough that you can be near him everyday. How very convenient."
Scarlett jerked away from Rhett. "It isn't like that. They burned Twelve Oaks. Where else were he and Melanie and the baby supposed to go. And I needed his help. We have to work together to manage things."
"And you are managing so well. He is doing a wonderful job providing for you? What about your father? Is he not able to provide?" Rhett taunted.
"You don't know the first thing about how it has been here. You have no idea what I was facing when you left me on that road. At least Ashley is doing whatever it takes to help out around here. He can't help it that he has nothing left. None of us do. Don't talk to me about things that you couldn't possibly understand." She offered bitterly.
"I sent you home to your parents, on a path that you told me that you had ridden many times. Don't tell me that your mother didn't greet you with open arms. You were safe with your family, while I was on a fools mission to fight for the Cause."
Her face lost all color at his words, "You have no idea. No idea at all. I arrived home to find that all of the slaves had left, but the most loyal few. I arrived to find that my father had gone mad, to find that my mother was dead, and my sisters were as weak as new born kittens, and there was no food here at all because the Yankees had taken all of it. Don't tell me about the hell that you went through because it was a hell of your own choosing, and my hell was the only place I could go."
He tried to reach for her, but she jerked away from him once more, the anger spilling forth from a broken vessel. "I've worked like a field hand trying to have enough to hold off starvation for another day. But it is never enough, there is never enough food, never enough time, and just when I thought that we had managed to pick enough cotton to sell for supplies to get us through the winter, the damned Yankees returned and burned the cotton again. You have no idea what we have gone through since leaving Atlanta, and nor could you, but don't you dare tell me that you had it worse. There are things I can't even tell you about, things that I can tell no one about..." Her hand went suddenly to her mouth, as though to stopper her words, but it was more than that. She fell to her knees, as she became violently ill. Rhett was instantly at her side, holding her with one arm, as he smoothed the hair back from her face, offering soothing words.
Once the spell had passed, he lifted her into his arms and made his way to the well, knowing that she needed something to drink to wash that foul taste out of her mouth. She greedily drank the water, brushing angrily at the tears of shame and humiliation, not only for being sick in front of a man, but also her shame at allowing herself to tell him so much about how life had been. She hated weakness in others, but loathed it more strongly when it was in her.
She could hear the sound of the axe ringing as Ashley split into rails the logs hauled from the swamp. Replacing the fences the Yankees had so blithely burned was a long hard task. Everything was a long hard task, she thought wearily, and she was tired of it, tired and mad and sick of it all. If only Ashley were her husband, instead of Melanie's, how sweet it would be to go to him and lay her head upon his shoulder and cry and shove her burdens onto him to work out as best he might. And yet there was something in that thought that even now did not have the same appeal as it once would have had. She turned and found that Rhett's eyes were watching her. And as soon as she made eye contact with him, he rose and came to her side. She rose to her feet, and took his offered arm.
They went through the orchard under the bare boughs and the damp weeds beneath them wet her feet. Rhett's voice was firm as he began questioning her. She had already told him too much, and there was no point in hiding her sad situation from him. They skirted the area where Ashley was working, and made their way through the area which had once been the slaves quarters.
Abruptly she told him Will's news, tersely, feeling a sense of relief as she spoke. Rhett had a way of shouldering burdens that no one else seemed able to bear, and he bore it with such strength, as if it were nothing at all. Surely, he'd have something helpful to offer. He said nothing but, seeing her shiver, he took his coat and placed it about her shoulders.
"Well," she said finally, "doesn't it occur to you that we'll have to get the money somewhere?"
"Yes," he said, "I am sure that I can manage something. The Yankees would love to get their hands on me, but having so neatly escaped their clutches to make my way to see you, I prefer to have as little contact with them as possible. Oddly enough I rather like my neck."
"Are the Yankees after you, Rhett?" She asked solemnly, her eyes wide with fear. "They won't be coming here to look for you, will they. I don't want them digging around her."
"No, I doubt that they trace me here, but diggin around is a rather unusual way to state that... Good God, Scarlett, what have you done?" He reached out and shook her so that her hair fell from its pins and tumbled in dark waves around her shoulders.
"There was a Yankee, Rhett. He came when I was alone in the house, all but Melly, and Rhett he was stealing what little we had left. He saw me. He was going to defile me. Rhett, I couldn't let him do that to me. I couldn't let them take anything else from me." Her eyes shone like emeralds, polished and hardened.
"Don't worry, I won't let them come breathing down your neck." He smiled at her, "I'm glad that you took care of him, that you are safe. I wish that you had been as safe here as I hoped you were. You took the time to bury him well, didn't you?"
"We buried him under the arbor, it was the only ground that was soft enough for me to make a hole deep enough to bury the body." Her face was ashen, save for the rosy blotches of color from the bitter wind."
Rhett took her in his arms, promising that he would make sure that no one was ever able to find out anything about such horrific events.
"I'm so glad you are here," she softly stammered. The sense of relief at unburdening herself was so overwhelming that she was nearly giddy with the relief of knowing that Rhett was someone that could help her.
But she slowly realized that there would be a price to be paid for his help. Rhett Butler was not one to give something with expecting a return on his investment. "But what must I do to repay you?" She boldly questioned. "I... I have nothing to offer you other than the deed to Tara. You can see for yourself just how bad things really are now."
Rhett smiled, " don't worry. I have no use for your little farm. There are other ways that you will be able to repay your debt. Someday things will get better. Someday we will find a way to escape from this world.
"Escape!"
It was as if that were the only understandable word he had spoken. Like her, he also was tired of the struggle, and he wanted to escape. Her breath came fast.
"Oh, Rhett," she cried, "I do want to escape, too. I am so very tired of it all! I want to escape right now. Let's run from this place, leave it all. I am sick of it, utterly sick of it. I wish I never had to see it ever again."
His eyebrows went up in disbelief and she laid a hand, feverish and urgent, on his arm.
"Listen to me," she began swiftly, the words tumbling out one over the other. "I'm tired of it all, I tell you. Bone tired and I'm not going to stand it any longer. I've struggled for food and for money and I've weeded and hoed and picked cotton and I've even plowed until I can't stand it another minute. The Yankees and the free blacks and the Carpetbaggers have got it and there's nothing left for us. Rhett, let's run away!"
He peered at her sharply, lowering his head to look into her face, now flaming with color.
"Yes, let's run away-leave them all! I'm tired of working for the folks. Somebody will take care of them. There's always somebody who takes care of people who can't take care of themselves. Oh, Rhett, let's run away, you and I. We could go to one of those islands where you went during the war—you must have savings there- You said it yourself that you need to stay away from the Yankees. They would never find you there."
"You can't leave your family here, with things like they are, and I've told you, Scarlett, that I am not a marrying man..." She didn't let him continue, but rushed on recklessly.
"I could leave them-I'm sick of them-tired of them-"
He leaned toward her and, for a moment, her heart pounded at the thought that he was going to take her in his arms. But instead, he patted her arm and spoke as one comforting a child.
"I know you're sick and tired. That's why you are talking this way. You've carried the load of three men. But I'm going to help you. It won't always be like this."
"There's only one way you can help me," she said dully, "and that's to take me away from here and give us a new start somewhere, with a chance for happiness. There's nothing to keep us here."
Heartbreak and weariness sweeping over her, she dropped her head in her hands and cried. She had been through too much in single day, and she could not stand for it anymore. His hand brushed against her face, and she looked up at him, her eyes blazing wildly.
At his touch, he felt her change within his grip and there was madness and magic in the slim body he held and a hot soft glow in the green eyes which looked up at him. Of a sudden, it was no longer bleak winter. The bitter months and years fell away and he saw that the lips turned up to his were red and trembling. And he could not help but respond to her.
There was a curious low roaring sound in her ears as of sea shells held against them and through the sound she dimly heard the swift thudding of her heart. Her body seemed to melt into his and, for a timeless moment, time stood completely still. They stood fused together as his lips took hers hungrily as if he could never have enough. She had never imagined that feelings such as this could exist, never had a kiss felt as this one did. She felt as though she would faint, and she suddenly did not care if she did. Surely this is what she had been needing, searching for all of her life.
When he suddenly released her she felt that she could not stand alone and gripped the fence for support. She raised eyes blazing with love and triumph to him.
She smiled a bright hot smile which was forgetful of time or place or anything but the memory of his mouth on hers. And his eyes were burning darkly, and then in a rush it came to her, the solution to her problem, and with a trembling voice she offered it. "I will be your mistress. ...for the three hundred dollars." She rushed on afraid to lose his strength, when she could not imagine shouldering the burden alone any longer. He did not respond as he carefully observed her shallow breathing and blazing eyes.
They fell silent and looked at each other. Suddenly Scarlett shivered and saw, as if coming back from a long journey, that it was winter and the fields were bare and harsh with stubble and she was very cold. She saw too that the old aloof face of Rhett, the one she knew so well, had come back and it was wintry too, and harsh with emotions she could not identify.
She would have turned and left him then, seeking the shelter of the house to hide herself, but she was too tired to move. Even speech was a labor and a weariness. "There is nothing left," she said at last. "Nothing left for me. Nothing to love. Nothing to fight for. My pride is gone and Tara is going."
She shivered again, and Rhett put his arms around her shoulders and led her back towards the house. "Pack your bags. I am taking you away from here. You are too young and too full of life to be left here dying a little more each day. Why surely your senile father and your child can take care of themselves. They shouldn't expect for you to do everything."
Scarlett turned to face him, offended by his choice of words. "I'm so tired of it all Rhett. I just need to get away from here. I thought you understood."
"I think I do, perhaps even more than you youeself are capable of understanding in this moment. But I already told you that don't have to worry that I will give you the money."
"You don't want me anymore. I'm like a half starved cat, and you aren't interested anymore..."
"Trust me, my pet, that is not the issue, but I don't want you looking back at this moment and blaming me for your fall from grace. You are the only woman I have ever wanted enough to consider your suggestion, but if you insist, then it is fine with me. I will take you away from this White Elephant, leaving the Wilkes and the remains of your family to fend for themselves."
Her shoulders squared and her eyes blazed. "There is no one else to take care of them. I can't leave my family to Ashley's care. Why..."
Rhett smiled down at her. "Let me take care of everything. Don't worry about the price. You won't have to pay for a long time. But do remember that you owe me, and I always collect with interest."
Rhett left Scarlett standing at the door to the house, draped in his over sized coat, as he leaped on his horse and rode away. And yet as much as she wanted to doubt him, when Rhett said that he would take care of the problem, he would. And yet for a while longer, nothing would change. It would be like he had never been there at all. But she knew that once Rhett had given his word that somehow he would come through, and so clung to that hope with all of her being. Rhett would return soon, and then everything would be all right.
Prompt #1:
Take the scene where Scarlett begs Ashley to run away with her to Mexico and abandon Tara and their families and replace Ashley with Rhett who has just arrived at Tara. Rhett says yes and runs away with her but fully expects Scarlett to realize that she can't abandon Tara and her son. When and if and how she does that is up to the author.
-suggested by Kristy