Chapter XIX
For the first time since the war began, Atlanta could hear the sound of battle. Occasionally it was loud enough to be heard even above the rattle of traffic at noon. The town wore a preoccupied look, for no matter what occupied their hands, all were listening, listening, their hearts leaping suddenly a hundred times a day. Panic lay just beneath the surface...
... For Scarlett, upon arriving in Atlanta after a harrowing trip from Nassau to Charleston, then Charleston to Atlanta, the sound of canon fire was the last thing she needed. Her nerves were stretched taught and knowing that after only a night, Rhett would be leaving her there, she felt as close to hysteria as she ever had.
"Might I stay with Melanie and her Aunt Pitty?" Scarlett asked Rhett, unable to stand the thought of staying in what she had come to think of as their hotel room without him. "Then I shall have company, at least, until you return."
"Certainly," Rhett agreed, relieved that she had suggested such a thing. The situation in the South was worse than he had anticipated and he felt vastly uncomfortable leaving Scarlett alone and unprotected.
"And I want you to take this," he continued, indicating one of his dueling pistols, which was lying on an end table between them. "Keep it with you at all times and if you feel threatened, shoot the damn thing."
"Is it as bad as all that, Rhett?" Scarlett asked nervously, looking distastefully at the ugly gun.
"I hope not, my pet. But still, I should rather have you protected if it is."
They called on Melanie and Pitty that very afternoon and Scarlett was shocked to find Melly swollen of belly, obviously heavily pregnant. Though while she was heavy of stomach, her cheeks were sunken and grey and her eyes dark rimmed. Her pregnancy seemed to be zapping the life from her and Scarlett was frankly terrified by her appearance.
"Of course you may stay with us, dearest," Melanie's sunken cheeks beamed at the suggestion. "We'd feel so much better with you in the house Scarlett, you're so brave!"
Scarlett didn't feel brave, not at all. The cannon fire was so close it felt as if it was rattling her bones and the sight of Melanie, distended and wasted made her immediately regret her desire to stay with them. What if the baby came?
Arrangements were made for Scarlett to move to Aunt Pitty's house the very next morning and Scarlett and Rhett retired back to their hotel room for the evening, leaving behind a very happy Melanie and Pitty.
"Mrs. Wilkes does not appear well," Rhett commented, as they settled in the small sitting room in their chambers.
"Rhett, she looked like... like death!" Scarlett exclaimed before quickly crossing herself. "I'm coming with you, I can't stand it! What if Melly should have her baby while I'm here? I know nothing of such things!"
"You must stay here Scarlett," Rhett told her seriously, pulling her onto his lap and wrapping his arms about her securely. "New Orleans isn't safe, and the less attention we draw to ourselves the better. Miss Melly will have a plan should her baby decide to come."
"And the Yankees?" Scarlett asked, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "If they should decide to come."
"I shall keep my ear to the ground for news," Rhett replied soothingly. "And if I should hear of any possible danger I shall send word immediately and you must flee to Tara."
Scarlett nodded, burying her face against her husband's neck, trying to hide her fear. She knew the necessity of Rhett's mission, for somewhere in New Orleans was an orphaned little boy who would soon be theirs, but she was terrified of him leaving her alone in this strange, unfamiliar version of the city of her youth, Atlanta.
"How long should you be gone do you think?"
"I should hope only two weeks," Rhett told her, gently stroking her hair. "But it could be upwards of a month if things don't go to plan. No matter how long Scarlett, know that I am coming back to you."
Their lips met then in a desperate, frantic kiss. Scarlett's head was set spinning, and she found herself errantly wishing that she might be absorbed into Rhett, so that they would never have to part.
She was in his arms then, and he was walking her towards the bedroom of their suite. Hearts raced as lips and hands caressed, the slow, sensual nature of Rhett's movements at odds with the pounding of the blood in his veins. Every inch of skin was explored, caressed, and explored again at leisure, as if they might have all the time in the world. By the time their bodies met as one, tears danced in Scarlett's eyes and as he found his completion, Rhett could not help but silently gasp out against his wife's neck - I love you.
Tangled in each other, unwilling to part when separation loomed so near, the lovers fell asleep, each thinking what they believed the other could never hear.
"Oh, Scarlett, I know my darling is dead!"
Somehow, Melanie was in Scarlett's arms, her small breasts heaving with sobs and Scarlett was crying too, crying with her face pressed close against Melanie's, the tears of one wetting the cheeks of the other. Scarlett's tears were for her absent husband, on his way to God forsaken New Orleans. Melanie's were for her own husband, captured, it was believed, somewhere deep in Yankee territory.
Scarlett's fears for Ashley were scarcely less than Melanie's, or so she believed. They were however, completely belied by the fear she felt for herself, and for her husband. The news Scarlett had heard around town about the goings on in New Orleans was frankly terrifying, and with every day that passed since Rhett's departure, Scarlett's fears seemed to grow ten-fold.
Still, she tried her best to put on a brave front, especially for the sake of Melanie, who was prostrate with grief at the unknown fate of Ashley. For her own sake, Scarlett's deepest fear was that Melanie's baby would come when she was staying with them, for nothing in her life could possibly have prepared her for such a thing as helping her strange little friend through childbirth.
Panic lay just beneath the surface for all. With each day that passed, nerves were stretched tighter and tighter, until they began to reach breaking point. Sherman was their biggest fear, that hated Yankee General and all knew that if the railway roads into and out of Atlanta fell, Atlanta would fall with them.
When Rhett's telegram arrived, the household was sent into disarray and fear gripped at Scarlett's throat, heavy and real. The telegram read:
Railroads at risk
Sherman to take Atlanta.
Take Mrs. Wilkes & Aunt Pitty with you -
More dangerous to stay than to go.
I will meet you at Tara.
R.K.B.
"Dr. Meade said that moving Melly might bring the baby," the nervous Aunt Pitty nervously swooned, as Scarlett insisted they begin packing immediately.
"That shouldn't matter if we get to Tara," Scarlett insisted, with little patience for the plump spinster's swoons and nerves. "Mother has bought dozens of babies safely to the world, she shall know what to do."
"But it might be dangerous..."
"More dangerous than the Yankees?" Scarlett demanded viciously. "Miss Pitty Pat, if Rhett says to get to Tara, we must get to Tara. He has connections everywhere, including in Washington. He wouldn't have us move without a reason."
"Ooh," Aunt Pitty fluttered nervously, fanning herself frantically.
"Auntie, if Scarlett says we are to leave, than we must leave," Melanie took Pitty's hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "We must be brave."
And so it was decided, to Tara they were to go.
Later, Scarlett would learn that the train they boarded later that afternoon was one of the last to leave Atlanta before the city was taken under siege. As the train began to pull towards Jonosboro, Scarlett was glad simply to see the back of the city and the shellfire that went with it.
She was going home to Tara.
Never had she been more glad to see the white bricks of Tara, blurred and indistinct as the buggy carrying the three women, Cookie and Uncle Peter, and all their belongings lurched forwards to Tara. The cannon fire was closer here, close enough to make the hair on the back of one's neck stand on end and the constant tremors in their hands gave away their fear.
Melanie was grey faced and sallow, her lips pressed firmly together, her eyes filled with pain and Scarlett began to wonder if she had killed her by forcing the point that they must return to Clayton County.
"Not much further Melly," Scarlett whispered, pressing her hand into her little friend's and holding tightly. "We'll be at Tara soon and Mother will know how to help you."
"I'm fine Scarlett," Melanie smiled bravely. "Don't you worry about me."
Scarlett was worried however and never had she been gladder to see Mammy than she was in that moment, as the big old woman came waddling down the front steps.
"Miz Scarlett, wa's you doin' 'ere?" She exclaimed, her dark, lined face creasing into a toothless smile.
"I am glad to see you Mammy!" Scarlett exclaimed, holding her nurse to her tightly. "Please, you must help Miss Melanie, she's not well at all."
"Miz Melly whatchyu' dun travel all da way to Tara for?" Mammy clacked her tongue disapprovingly, dropping an arm around the exhausted Mrs. Wilkes. "You dun in no cond'tun to be travellin' da countryside."
"We had to get out of Atlanta, Mammy," Scarlett explained, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. "The Yankees..."
"Yu dun come home to ya Mammy chile'," Mammy nodded approvingly. "Mammy knowin' 'ow to look afta Miz Melly, dun' you worry."
"Thank you Mammy," Scarlett breathed a sigh of relief. "Where are Mother and Pa?"
"Miz Ellen in 'er office," Mammy responded. "She sure be glad to be seein' yu Miz Scarlett! She won' go dow' nurse dem white trash Slattery's, but I won't let her, no sir'ey. Dey got da Typhoid Miz Scarlet and I'ma putting dow my foot and say 'Miz Ellen, you dun' brin da Typhoay to Tara and den what?' And so she dun not go."
"You are good Mammy!" Scarlett exclaimed. "Why, Mother could get sick herself nursing those trashy Slattery's and then where would we all be?"
"Das wha' I say to Miz Ellen, Miz Scarlett."
"Well I'm mighty glad she listened to you Mammy! Where's Pa?"
"Miz Scarlett... your Pa, he eff at da war."
"The war?" Scarlett exclaimed, her hand flying to her throat. "Oh no Mammy! He can't have done... why, Pa's an old man!"
"Old, yung, don' matter now," Mammy shrugged. "Miz Ellen says General Johnston lost ten thosan' men when he retreat, he need ten thosan' mor, so off Mist' Gerald goes!"
Not Pa, anybody but Pa! He was an old man, far too old to fight for his country! He ought to have been home, riding his horse too fast, overseeing the planting and hemming and haughing about the news from the front.
"Oh Mammy I can't stand it!" Scarlett moaned. "Pa must come home! At once!"
"Dun' you worry bout yur Pa, Miz Scarlett. Pork wit' him and Pork take good care of 'im!"
Oh Pork! What good was Pork against the Yankees? What good was a Southern army of old men and young boys with no weapons or training? Scarlett crossed herself frantically. Why had they come to the God forsaken South? Why hadn't she convinced Rhett to stay in safe Nassau, baby be damned!
"Mother," Scarlett whispered piteously, seeing Ellen at the top of the stairs.
"Scarlett!" Ellen exclaimed, surprise coloring her drawn, pale features. "And Miss Melanie and Miss Pitty Pat!"
"Mother," Scarlett whispered again, before regaining the use of her forgotten limbs and all but flying up the stairs and into her Mother's arms. "Mother, Mammy says Pa's gone to war! He hasn't has he? He's so old, so..."
"Hush, Scarlett," Ellen's lemon verbena scent and gentle hands immediately soothed Scarlett's frayed nerves. "Of course Mr. O'Hara has gone to war, the Confederacy needs him. Why are you here my darling girl? And where is your husband?"
"Oh Mother, I have so much to tell you. But we must help Melly, she's not well you know, she's to have a baby and Dr. Meade said not to move her but we had to get out of Atlanta..."
Ellen held a hand up to cease Scarlett's rambling.
"Of course. Mammy, bring Miss Melanie upstairs and see her settled."
"You are kind, Mrs. O'Hara," Melanie smiled weakly. "I feel so tired, as if I could sleep for a week."
Once Melanie and Pitty were settled in their respective beds, the former with cold compresses for her burning cheeks, the latter with a hot toddy, Scarlett joined her mother in her office.
Ellen's office had always been a sacred dwelling for Scarlett. It was from here that Tara was run, from here that decisions were made and from here that Ellen reined gently over the plantation and all its surrounding lands. The room was the very essence of Ellen, distinctly feminine, in a soft, caring way and it always smelt of Ellen's lemon verbena scent.
Stepping inside and taking a comfortable seat beside her Mother, Scarlett's frazzled nerves and heavy heart were immediately comforted. Ellen had ordered a tea service despite the heat, and the comforting aroma of Tara's own blend was a balm to Scarlett's soul.
"Scarlett, what are you doing here? Where is Captain Butler?" Ellen asked. "Not that I'm not pleased to see you my darling, but I can't help but worry that you were much safer in Nassau."
"Oh Mother," Scarlett cried, setting down her cup and laying her head in her mother's lap like she was a small child once again. "We hadn't any choice! Rhett's friend went and got himself killed and there was the baby and I couldn't let Rhett come by himself and..."
"Calm yourself, Scarlett," Ellen ran a soothing hand over her daughter's dark hair. "Take a deep breath darling, and tell Mother what has happened. What's this about a baby?"
Slowly, haltingly, Scarlett began her story. She went back to Rhett and Bill Bennet's friendship as young boys, all the way through their meeting in Charleston during Scarlett and Rhett's honeymoon, through to Cissy Brent's death and Will Brent's willing sacrifice at Gettysburg. She left out little, except Cissy Bennet's former occupation as a can-can dancer, and Brent's gambling and whoring in the wake of his wife's death. Some things, Ellen could never understand.
"And we had to come and get the child, of course. Rhett wanted me to stay in Nassau, but I couldn't..."
"Of course you couldn't darling girl. That baby is your very own child, of course you had to come for him yourself."
Ellen's words gave Scarlett pause, for truly, she had spent little time thinking of the infant she was to play Mother too. Her concerns lay with her husband. The baby was a far distant spectre, too abstract to pay much heed to. Despite her planning of a nursery she had given little thought to the small boy who would soon come to rely on she and Rhett for his entire world.
"Oh Mother, I'm so frightened! I don't know if I'm ready to look after a baby!"
"No woman ever does, darling girl," Ellen soothed gently. "And you've not had the chance to feel the child growing inside you that most have. But when that babe is placed in your arms, being a Mother becomes the most natural thing in the world."
Scarlett didn't answer, for she was concerned, truly concerned, that perhaps she lacked the mothering instinct that seemed to come so naturally to Ellen, Melanie and nearly every woman she knew.
"It was too dangerous in Atlanta, Rhett said he should meet us here. But he's been gone two weeks already and Mother, I'm worried... whatever is that smell?"
Hastening from her Mother's lap, Scarlett flew to the window, leaning out the open frame and peering into the distance. It was fire! Acrid smoke hung heavy in the air, burning her nostrils and throat. The smoke lay too thick for it to be from a chimney or old crop, something large was burning and in the distance, Scarlett could see flames leaping high into the air.
Why, it couldn't be! In that direction lay Twelve Oaks!
Fear gripped her heart, real and strong and she turned from the window to face her Mother.
"The Yankees are coming."