Dear readers, good evening!:)
As always, I am very grateful for all your reviews, messages! I am very pleased, thank you for finding time to read my story and to share with your thoughts and emotions!(especially in summer):)
I don't know about you, but my summer days are very active - constant meetings with friends, picnics, walks in parks, trips to nature, to the river. And in all this whirlwind of events I run to another picnic with a pear pie in my hands and with children around me, but in thoughts at the next chapter:)
But, in the evenings, rather nights there is time for work, and for writing another chapter, finally in silence:)
Yes, I love summer!:)
So Scarlett and the children have arrived in Savannah and we meet a new character in the chapter:)
P.S. To answer the guest's question about Will and Suellen, I think the pregnancy might have made her a little softer and the loss of her sister's baby might have had an impact too. Pregnant women are sensitive that way.
P.P.S. I always post updates through the app, but I know the site is down. Hopefully it will be fixed. If anything, I post on AO3 as well.
Enjoy reading:)
I own nothing in regard to GWTW.
Chapter 6.
Scarlett with the children arrived in Savannah in early August 1871, and as she drove through the city in a carriage, hired by her husband, she gazed out the window with interest and tried to recall her mother's rare stories about the city of her youth. Wide avenues with parks, squares, a long waterfront, slowly strolling people. A large park where she had walked many times with her father as a child, when they visited his relatives. She remembered that her father had been very fond of those trees in the park, with the drooping green moss. Truly a beautiful and mysterious sight!
Scarlett reminded herself that they would be coming here soon with Ella and Wade, who were themselves excited to see the town not only from the carriage window, as was Prissy.
But, their journey lay on the suburbs of town, fifteen miles away was a small township, quite tiny. A few streets, houses, a long seafront, a small square, a post office, a couple of shops. The most beautiful thing was the wide sandy beach and the lighthouse in the distance.
There were few people here, only the residents of the nearby cottages, and Scarlett once again mentally thanked Rhett for choosing this place.
Asking her for her wishes, Rhett heard only, "Make it more private, less people, please."
So he found a solution to rent a little cottage for them in the suburbs of Savannah, near the ocean, and to hire a coachman and carriage for them if they wanted to go into the city.
The house in which they settled was small, but rather cozy. It was painted white, with a tiled roof and grey shutters, a veranda with a couple of white wicker chairs on it. There were a couple of trees and bushes with white flowers.
The house had two floors, on the first floor there was a small kitchen, an entrance hall and a parlour, which was also the dining room. There was also a maid's room, Rhett had hired them a woman to come cook and clean as needed, she lived nearby. The second floor had a nursery and two bedrooms, as well as two bathrooms, one of which was adjacent to the bedroom.
Looking around the house, the neat furniture, the light-coloured walls, touching the light curtains on the windows, Scarlett noted how easy it was to breathe in here, despite the warm, humid air outside.
She wondered how Rhett had managed to organize it all in such a short time. Yes, this was Rhett, and he did everything on a high level. He didn't recognize half-tones.
For the first few days they got used to the climate, the routine, walked around the town, went to the post office to send a telegram that they were well settled. Rhett had cautiously hinted to her, before they left, that he would be glad to receive a telegram so he wouldn't have to worry about the children.
And there, after sending a telegram, Scarlett was surprised to see a smiling clerk handing her an envelope. Looking at the address, she saw that the letter had arrived just this morning from Atlanta, from home. Scarlett took it, her hands shaking slightly with excitement. Wade and Ella peppered her with questions about what the letter was about, but she barely answered their questions, afraid to open the envelope.
As they walked to their house, she pondered what might be in it. They had left a few days ago, after all. Maybe something urgent from the shop, or from Tara, or... Maybe there's even the divorce proposals she'd asked for before she left.
Scarlett's insides trembled. Yes, it could be something about a divorce. What if Rhett was going far away with Bonnie now... The fantasies, one worse than another, took over, and she didn't notice how she stood in front of the door, unresponsive to Wade's soft calls.
Quickly opening the door and entering the house, she walked through to the living room, sending the children to change before dinner. Twirling her emerald engagement ring on her finger, she took a deep breath and carefully opened the envelope.
Out of the envelope fell a child's drawing of a blue sky, green grass, sunshine, a brown house, and a few little people, which appeared to be their family. Three little people in dresses of blue, green and pink and two little people, one bigger, one smaller in dark trousers.
"Bonnie..." whispered Scarlett quietly and wiped tears from her eyes. This drawing, drawn by an unsteady child's hand and coloured so lovingly, made her think about her recent question, "Did they even have a family?" Judging from their youngest daughter's drawing, they had it...
Scarlett turned the sheet over and saw the familiar, sprawling handwriting. Apparently Bonnie couldn't sign the drawing herself and had asked her father.
"Dear Mummy, Daddy and I miss you all very much! Bonnie."
After reading this short message, Scarlett placed the drawing on the table, covered her face with her hands and turned away to the window. Her shoulders shuddered. She didn't know whether it was the drawing or the message, but she wept bitterly. She wanted so badly to believe it.
The next day they sent a reply, and Bonnie's drawing adorned their dining room table.
In couple days Scarlett was sitting and staring into a blue distance, her eyes were resting. She looked at the vast blue ocean, the sun glinting on the water. Sometimes she closed her eyes, listened to the rustle of the waves, ran her hand over the warm sand. She felt calm for the first time in years. Water had never been her strength, it had always been land. The red land of Georgia. But, somehow, solace had found her in places she hadn't expected and after a week in Savannah, she was getting used to the salt air, the warm breezes, the scents, the walks by the water.
It had to hand it to Rhett, he had thought of everything. The house he'd rented them was conveniently located on the next street to the seafront. And from the waterfront you could walk down to the sandy beach, which is what they did with the children. Wade and Ella loved to frolic and play by the water, Prissy keeping them company. Although she was lazy, Prissy had a great way of playing with the children. Every day she would come up with something new to entertain them, and Scarlett thanked heaven and common sense for bringing her along.
That morning she sat on a large log that had been washed ashore by the waves. Scarlett did not care for the fabric of her dress. Here she wore the simplest of muslin or linen outfits, which made it pleasant to be outside in the hot weather. She had forgotten her white lace parasol in the cottage and covered herself from the sun only with a straw hat. The young woman with her two children and her maid hardly attracted any attention.
Watching the children, she suddenly took a deep breath, feeling some hope in her soul. She didn't realize what it was, perhaps she had reached the bottom and now she was pushing herself off.
"It's like I'm being reborn," she said quietly but clearly, and suddenly heard a man's voice behind her, "Excuse me, did you say something?"
Scarlett turned round and saw standing behind her, a little to the side, a man in his thirties, in light grey suit, with red hair and a neat red moustache. "He looks like the Tarletons," a thought flashed across her mind, but she only said politely but sternly, "Sorry, I was just thinking out loud."
The man nodded his head, walked over to the log, stood to Scarlett's right, but did not sit down. Also looking at the water he only said, "That's okay, sometimes I talk to myself too."
The man continued to stand beside her, silent. He looked at the water, at her children, and seemed to be in his own thoughts.
Scarlett was tense at first, her arms crossed over her chest, not wanting to maintain the dialogue. But there was no dialogue, just silence, the sound of the waves, the occasional cries of seagulls and the laughter of her children.
Scarlett was thinking too, she seemed to be all in her own thoughts and didn't notice the man giving her a long look, then slipping his hands into his pockets and clearing his throat, quietly said to her, "Have a good day." Then, catching her surprised look, he turned and walked towards the seafront.
They introduced and began to talk with James after a several days of silence and quiet greetings.
They strolled slowly along the beach, looking ahead of them. He in a light grey linen suit and hat, she in a white muslin dress and a straw hat.
He started the conversation looking at the children, playing catch-up by the water "Are these your children?"
Scarlett only nodded.
"They're adorable," he complimented.
"I still have a younger daughter," she said not looking at him.
"Where is she?" asked James quietly.
"With my..." here Scarlett fell silent and after a moment continued, "with her father, in Atlanta."
He nodded, then said, "I have a daughter, too."
"Where is she? How old is she?" asked Scarlett in response.
"She's with my parents, they live in Savannah, I'm alone here. She's four, she'll be five in November."
Scarlett nodded too and cautiously asked the next question, "And her mother?"
"My wife died," he replied briefly and Scarlett looked at him guiltily, twirled her ring and whispered, "I'm sorry, James."
But he didn't look at her, he kept looking at the water, with hands in his pockets and said, "That's all right."
They were walking in silence again. Scarlett was embarrassed to bring up such a painful subject, but James said in his calm voice, "Don't be embarrassed, Scarlett. It's life. Cruel and unfair at times, but life."
She nodded and decided to change the subject, "I saw you had a small notebook and pencil with you. Are you a writer?"
"You're almost right, Scarlett. I'm a journalist. I work in Chicago, I live there with my daughter."
"You've gone North?" she asked in surprise.
"Gone," he replied briefly.
"Why?"
"I wanted to go, I found work there."
"Do you like the North?" she asked.
"No, Scarlett, I don't like the North, but it's easier to live there without remembering the past every day," he replied, and suddenly asked, "And you, Scarlett? Are you a real Southern lady? Sewing circles, the committees, the house, full of children?"
She grinned.
"If you like that kind of lady, James, I'll make you sad, I'm different. I have a shop owned by my late husband, until recently I owned sawmills."
He looked at her with interest and some kind of respect.
Scarlett caught his gaze and smiled, "Surprised?"
But he only replied, "No."
Scarlett looked again and tried to joke, "You're not easily surprised at all, are you, James?"
"Not easy, but possible, Scarlett. Don't forget, I'm a journalist. But I have to say, it's brave what you're doing. Does your husband mind?"
Scarlett sighed heavily, she didn't want to remember Rhett right now. It was enough that he had always occupied her thoughts, especially at night when she tossed and turned, remembering all the past events and falling asleep in tears. It was a devastating and unbearable feeling. Realizing that you had feelings again for a man, who didn't want you, was hard and painful.
"Scarlett," a man's voice called softly to her and she realized the pause was lingering. Twirling her ring, she only replied, "My husband doesn't mind. On the whole, he doesn't really care."
He only nodded, noting her detached and sad look.
"Are you here for long?" came his question.
"I don't know, I came with the children for some time..."
"And your youngest daughter?"
"My husband promised to bring her to us," Scarlett said, not sure if Rhett would keep his promise.
James only nodded and said, "I have to go, I promised to go to my parents in town for lunch today. Are you walking around here tomorrow like you usually do?"
Scarlett smiled and nodded.
"See you then," he said, shook her hand and headed towards the seafront.
Scarlett liked the man. He was calm, interesting and in general she always found it easier to relate to men.
"Rhett was once my friend," she thought bitterly, and went to the children and Prissy. It was time for them to have lunch, too.
That same day, Rhett came home with Bonnie from a walk. They had travelled out of town, to the pond in the company of little Beau. As the children played, Rhett watched them and wondered how Scarlett had reacted to their letter. That childish drawing echoed painfully in his heart, for their daughter had seen their family like that. He assumed that Wade and Ella saw them as a family, too, and these separations they were taking turns creating for them only served to distance the children from each other.
Rhett considered whether to write him a separate letter and decided he would if she sent some sort of response. Yes, they had received a terse telegram in the first few days of their arrival, but it had been a week since then. Yes, he had been counting the days. Every evening before going to bed and every new day began with counting. He missed her badly, he berated himself for being coward and not talking to her.
There was some sort of 'good' news in the departure of the children. Bonnie missed them so much that she often spent time with Mammy in Ella's room, playing with her dolls, and one night fell asleep there listening to a story. Mammy wouldn't let him disturb the girl, "She's a big girl, Mr Rhett, she should be used to sleeping in the nursery, not in the other room," she said reproachfully, implying that Bonnie's cot was in his bedroom.
Eventually Rhett gave in and old maid stayed in the nursery until morning. In the morning a proud Bonnie bragged that she was all grown up and her mummy would be proud of her and was already planning what colour they would paint the walls in their shared bedroom with Ella.
"Just like Scarlett," Rhett thought, smiling at his daughter.
So when they returned from their lunchtime walk, they found an envelope in the hallway. A letter from Savannah.
Bonnie ran to Mammy's to wash up, and Rhett stood in the hallway as if frozen, holding his hat in his hands and hesitating to pick up the envelope, as if it might disappear in his hands.
But at last he put his hat down in the hall and, taking the envelope, passed into the parlour. Opening it, he found there a child's drawing from Ella and Wade for Bonnie, on which was drawn a kitten with a blue bow. A blue satin hair ribbon and a short note from Scarlett.
"Bonnie, baby, thank you for the drawing. It's wonderful. We miss you so much, too, and hope to see you soon. Love, Your mother, Wade and Ella."
"P.S. Thank you, Rhett."
Rhett reread the short note several times, especially the last sentence.
He always liked to hear her call his name. Whether it was a friendly greeting, or she was calling his name at breakfast, or laughing at his joke and asking him to stop, or when she was slyly asking him for something, or at night when it was just the two of them, the whisper of his name always aroused him more. At times like these, he felt that she was with him here and now. That it was just the two of them.
Falling into the memories, he didn't immediately notice Bonnie, who came running to him, already changed after the walk. He stroked her curls affectionately, handed her the drawing, a blue satin hair ribbon, and read her a short note.
At dinner that night, Bonnie was already thinking up a new drawing 'for Mummy', and Rhett thought he would be sure to write her a short note too.
She appeared in his bedroom quietly, near morning, as the sky outside his window brightened before dawn.
She sat on the edge of his bed and ran her hand gently through his hair. He opened his eyes and saw a familiar green glint.
"Scarlett," he whispered softly and questioningly, "when did you..." but he had no time to ask his question before she touched his lips affectionately with her own and without a second's hesitation he put his arms around her and laid her down beside him.
As he kissed her, his hands roamed her body, reaching under her nightgown and leaving hot trails behind him, making her respond to his kisses deeper.
Somewhere between kisses on her lips and neck, he whispered hoarsely, "Scarlett, sweetheart...You're mine..." And in response he heard her whisper, "Yes... Yours... Only yours... Rhett..."
That phrase suddenly hit him and jogged his memories, and he opened his eyes abruptly. Waking up, he ran his hand across his damp forehead, it was hot in the room, apparently the wind had covered the window during the night.
Still not quite sure what was real and what was a dream, Rhett got up and walked to the window, opened it wide, breathed in the cool air, and thought.
He'd heard it before. That hot whisper, that phrase from her.
Scraps of memories began to appear in his mind. The night, whiskey, lots of whiskey, jealousy, the stairs, the bedroom, the hot embrace in the room, the clothes strewn about the room. Them. That whisper, "I'm yours... Only yours..." She'd said it to him then. He remembered.
Rhett swallowed hard and ran a hand through his hair. Why hadn't he remembered that before. He needed to go to her, now. But it wasn't a corridor and a few rooms on a floor between them, it was hundreds of miles.
"And it's only been ten days, damn it! Only ten days!"
He sat on the bed again, reaching for the letter he'd taken from his daughter's nursery the night before. After rereading it once more, he carefully placed it on his nightstand next to their picture from New Orleans, and, settling into bed, tried to forget himself to sleep until morning.