Chapter Four
Rhett had wasted too much time trifling with Ashley Wilkes and the other men. He didn't know if he would be able to control his anger if this delay in searching for Scarlette led to her death. At very least, he hoped that the men who had died were Scarlette's attackers. At least they would be punished for their actions, and it kept his hands clean. But it left him with other questions. If they were the ones who had attacked her and kidnapped her, then where was she? And why hadn't anyone been able to find her? He decided that the location of where the men had been killed was the best place to start the search.
As he rode to the woods out by Shanty town, he was reminded of the reality of the fact that Frank Kennedy had been shot in the head, a gaping hollow in the center of his forehead. And Tommy Wellburn was also dead. Scarlett was once again a widow. The men had clearly been more concerned about clearing out the rabble from the woods than saving the life of a woman who refused to follow rules and be tamed, but in whose name they were doing this. But Rhett had done as he could to save those he could, all the while trying to find Scarlett. He refused to believe that anyone with such passion for life and with such fire would be defeated. But he knew that until he got these idiotic men out of the way, he wouldn't be able to focus on the now widowed Scarlett. Especially with the Yankees breathing down their necks. He tried to push aside the thought that it was possible that both Wade and Ella would now be orphans. Who would raise them? Scarlett's sister or Melanie Wilkes? He pushed the thought from his mind. He needed to focus on finding her.
But now that the matter of removing them from the picture, he could attend to the real matter at hand. Where was Scarlett?
The sky was pitch black, no lights piercing the utter darkness as Rhett rode towards Shanty town. The trees of North Georgia were tall and slim and grew thickly together. But the height of the trees blocked the moonlight, and he felt as though he were at sea in war, unable to see anything in the distance through the dark void. Scarlett had to be somewhere out there, or someone had to know something. No one really had truly been looking for her. All of this uproar over her disappearance, but to them she was insignificant, nothing more than an excuse for men to continue fighting the battles that should have been settled at Appomattox. But those battles had existed since the foundation of the country, and would continue on through milenia. The battle and war would never be truly over.
He could cover more ground on horseback, but he worried that he might miss a clue. So he leapt from his horse lightly, landing gracefully on the ground, as his cape swirled in the darkness around him. He had grabbed a lantern from Belle's, and he hoped that the weak light would help him find her. The wan flame once it flickered to life, offered a small circle as the darkness pressed in around him.
The leaves crunched under his feet as he skirted the spot where the Old Guard had dispatched the two men. The bodies had been moved, thankfully. He suspected that they might be the cause of Scarlett's disappearance, and if so then he needed to look in this area. There had to be clues as to her whereabouts, if the fools hadn't destroyed all of them. There was an old army tent where the men had been camped, the tattered canvas dancing in the chill air, and he poked around, shining the lantern inside to see if there was anything to suggest that Scarlett had been there. He prodded at the contents, but was rewarded with nothing of consequence. He was about to give up on that location and move to another when he spotted a bit of fabric outside of the tent. He reached down and picked it up gingerly. It was a woman's glove made of kid leather. He lifted it to his nose and instantly recognized her scent on it. Scarlett had been here.
This was the first solid clue. And he knew the delicate scent of her perfume. And after all, why would there be a woman's glove out here in Shanty town for any other reason. Tying up his horse on a low hanging branch, he began sweeping the perimeter in broadening arches searching for more clues. Spacing each pass less than 10 feet from the previous pass, in order to be certain that he missed nothing that could lead him to what had happened to Scarlett. He eventually ran into one of the trenches. Around Atlanta many of the trenches dug during the war and never filled in still remained as deep hollows in the ground that caught many unsuspecting people and animals off guard. He began following this nearest one that bordered the clearing as it snaked around. The fallen leaves from last fall still littered the ground and they crunched under his weight as he searched. The trench turned and the light from his lantern illuminated something ahead of him. At first it looked like a pile of fabric, but as he drew closer, he realized that it was more than fabric. It was a body.
His breath grew quicker as he set the lantern on the ground and leaned over. He held his breath as he knelt over the body, turning it over to reveal Scarlett's pale face, dirty and bruised. He held his hand close to her mouth and breathed again when he felt a faint warm emanating from her body. She was alive!
"Scarlett! Scarlett!" he called to her with increasing strength. "Darling! Scarlett, you must wake!" He began shaking her and gently slapping her face.
Finally, she began to stir. And in the glow of the lantern, she finally opened her eyes, staring up at his with terror. She was completely bewildered until finally recognition crept in as the lantern lit Rhett's face. And within a moment, she took a shuddering gasp of air and began quietly sobbing as he cradled her against his body. Her bodice was ripped open, and there was no wrapper to ward against the coldness of the early spring air. Tremors ran through her body as she cried.
"You're all right, my dear. Shhh…" he intoned softly, pulling his cape around her body, and hoping for the warmth of his body to leach into her. "I've got you now. You're safe." He clutched her trembling body until she seemed to calm from her hysterical state. "I'm going to take you home. We're going to get you cleaned up and warm." She nodded against him. He rose, still cradling her body against him, and returned to his horse. He lifted her onto the animal, but she seemed barely able to hold on and in a considerable amount of pain, outside of the emotional trauma of the entire ordeal, and he took off his jacket and cape to wrap around her. He then swung up into the saddle and headed back to town, allowing her body to slump back against him. He realized that it was likely that there were more injuries than he could see, but she was alive. And none of the other idiots had done anything to rescue her. He needed to allow someone else to assess her injuries, but a triumphant song rose in his soul, for Scarlett was alive.