Dear readers, hello!:)

The idea of the main character losing her memory has been in my head for a long time, and I'm going to try to bring it to life in this story.

The events here take place two years after the end of the war, and of course there will be plenty of flashbacks from various characters so that we can slowly learn what happened when Rhett left Scarlett on the "Rough and Ready" road. Yes, Captain Butler, it didn't turn out the way you hoped...

I'm actually very nervous because Rhett's character will be easier to write because he remembers everything, even though the events will affect him, but Scarlett... Oh, she's like a blank slate for me right now and it's scary, I admit...

But let's give it a try, I promise a couple of chapters a week, I don't have time for more. Especially since it's the holiday season and I'm sure I'll want to write a magical Christmas story.

Thanks for finishing it!:)

P.S. Oh, I found a poem that really inspired me. I'll leave it here in translation (not mine, of course)

You were dancing, no, you were dancing,

I remember exactly, there were little vodka and big skies, yeah,

By God, it was summer. And there was blue flashlight until dawn.

You have forgotten, but it happened, and more you were singing.

The leaves were rustling. On what date? That's not the point.

That's not the point!

And the matter is, that I lie shamelessly and it's so badly, that

You can fall in love with lies and lies.

And life passes by.

Boris Ryzhy

P.P.S. There is a phrase in the poem itself that says "I lie and it makes my cheekbones curl". The translation somehow missed that point, but I think this is an important phrase and feeling.

Enjoy reading!:)

I own nothing in regard to GWTW.

Chapter 1.

The train from Boston to New York made a leisurely detour on its way to its destination. Albany, Troy, Saratoga, the passenger sitting alone in his double compartment stared blankly out of the window, oblivious to the lush April green of the trees. His gaze was indifferent, tired, and a forgotten newspaper, dated 1866, lay on the table in front of him, next to an unlit cigar. The man was pensive, the wrinkle between his eyebrows and the serious look in his eyes never seemed to leave his face.

The door to the compartment opened and a polite male voice called to him, "Mr Butler, sir..."

Rhett Butler snapped out of his thoughts, turned his head and stared questioningly at the dark-skinned attendant, who smiled politely.

"Sir, we're about to enter Saratoga Springs, we'll be stopping for a few minutes. Are you all right, sir? Anything you want?"

Rhett shook his head negatively and the attendant continued in an apologetic tone, "Mr Butler, if you'll excuse me, can I put one more person in your compartment?Because of the cancellation of the previous train," he began to explain, but Rhett interrupted him with a wave of his hand and simply replied, "I don't care."

The train attendant nodded and quickly closed the door, not knowing whether the answer was positive or negative.

Rhett frowned slightly, glancing indifferently at the newspaper before turning his gaze back to the window and the passing trees.

He didn't care if anyone sat down with him or not. He knew that women wouldn't sit with a single man, and with a man he could just say a few polite words and disappear into the paper. It wouldn't be far, he'd be in New York by evening, and from there he'd take the train to Charleston.

He came to the north for the first time since the end of the war at the invitation of his business partner, who had offered him a good deal, connected with the railways that would bring even more profit. Rhett grinned bitterly, remembering how his brother Ross had practically kicked him out of the family estate he'd begun to rebuild so he wouldn't have to think about...

"Rhett, go to Boston! Come on, it's an interesting case!" Ross told him as they sat in their father's former study, which Rhett had converted for himself. This room, a bedroom and the kitchen were livable, the rest of the rooms and the front needed renovation, which Rhett did slowly, much of it by himself, to fill the unbearably slow hours of the day, then to drink whiskey at night and drift off to sleep.

Rhett turned silently back to the fireplace and heard his brother's quiet question, "You're not going to look for her again?"

"No."

"Why?"

"No trace."

Ross sighed, then said in a confident voice, "It's for the best, Rhett. As there are no results... Our mother and sister want you back in society. Looking for candidates... You need a real woman!"

Rhett turned sharply to his brother and Ross saw the flames of fire in his black eyes, then heard his serious voice, "Listen, Ross. While I was looking for her, she was more real to me than any woman. There was nothing more real to me in this life than her," he finished quietly, remembering the sparkle in the green eyes, and then added, "And now she's gone..."

Ross swallowed, looked bitterly at his brother, who had lost sleep over the last year, and simply said, "You've got to go to Boston anyway... Get a change of scenery, forget everything for a while."

Rhett knew he wouldn't be able to forget until his last breath... He remembered all the curses she'd shouted at him in the dark of that hot night, the taste of her lips during that desperate last kiss, the trembling of her body...

He didn't remember catching up with the remnants of the army, he tried to push thoughts of her away, he was sure, sure as hell that she would make it home! That she would kill anyone who got in her way! It was her. His Scarlett.

The months he'd spent in the army had been a slow torture for him, for he knew nothing of her fate. Whether he was marching in the snow, soaking in the rain, sleeping on the ground, his thoughts always returned to her, and his imagination played out various scenarios in his head, from the horrible to the inspiring. He preferred to believe in good things.

For him, the war ended in early June, 1865, when the remnants of his army surrendered and Rhett made his way from Virginia inland to the South. The deeper he went, the more devastation he saw... Destroyed railroads, burned towns, civilians dying of starvation and disease. He saw so much pain along the way that his heart turned cold at the thought that something might happen to her, that she or her family might go without food.

By July he had reached a ruined Atlanta, but the remaining inhabitants were unwavering and trying to rebuild their lives from the ruins. Hamilton's house on the Peachtree street stood empty but intact, which he was glad to see, and Belle Watling's house was as noisy as ever. The Yankees liked to spend their time there, it was an island of laughter and serenity in the city.

For the first few days Rhett came to his senses there - the delicious food, his good clothes, which Belle had saved for him, the cigars, a lot of whiskey, the attention of the women, the sleep on the soft bed... A week later, in the middle of July, he decided to go to Tara, cheerful, ready to hear the curses and swears from her, but taking with him some money and a piece of jewellery he'd found among his personal belongings. A silver butterfly brooch, delicate, finely worked, he'd bought it once on his last trip to Nassau, but they'd had a fight, then another and another, and the brooch had been forgotten in the pocket of one of his jackets.

Belle had looked at him sceptically that morning as he left, dressed in a light grey suit with a sailcloth hat. He had told her how they had parted with Scarlett, and she had no illusions about that "little widow's" favour.

Rhett rode for half a day, trying not to notice the burnt houses, the dilapidated estates along the main roads, and just kept saying to himself, "I'll be lucky. Luck is on my side, on her side! It's Scarlett! I bet she'd rather work with her own hands than leave her favourite house in such a state... And her parents, her sisters..."

He calmed himself and drove on, remembering how Frank Kennedy had shown him these places before an ill-fated barbecue.

Rhett's shock and horror was immense when he saw only the burnt remains of the once grand house.

He remembered how he had dismounted and walked around the ruins, only to whisper, "No... No... No... No..." He felt such inner pain and confusion that he dreaded imagining what Scarlett must have felt at that moment... And then another horrible thought came to him, what if the house had burned down not before she arrived, but before her eyes... He remembered running his hands over his face as his feet carried him behind the main house, away, into the shade of the trees, where the small family graveyards were usually laid out.

Breathless, he saw three small headstones, realized they were the O'Hara's young sons, probably dead at birth, and two wooden plaques with names of her parents carved on it.

Rhett left the place quickly, trying to think logically, not emotionally.

He drove through those fields that no one had worked on, through abandoned land, under the scorching sun, sweat dripping down his forehead, but he was in a hurry to get somewhere. He was in a hurry to leave the house that had once been the family stronghold, a place of comfort, happiness and her laughter.

He couldn't remember how he'd ended up on the neighbouring estate, but he could see that the place was familiar. "Twelve Oaks" was at his feet. The pride and honour of Ashley Wilkes... Rhett desperately kicked the stone with the toe of his boot and was walking to his horse when he heard a voice calling out to him. Rhett turned to see a dark skinned, tall man and was reaching for his gun when he heard an agitated voice, "No, sir, no. Don't shoot! I remember you, you're Mr Kennedy's friend. I was a servant in the O'Hara house..."

Hearing the familiar name, Rhett looked up quickly and was about to ask something when he heard, "My horse is on the other side of the house, follow me, sir, to the Fontaine estate."

At that moment, Rhett's heart quickened and as he galloped after the man, he thought that if he found her there, he would never let her go again. She'd scream, she'd swear, but none of that mattered. He didn't care, in that moment he decided he would give her everything.

The train horn interrupted his memories and he rubbed his eyes wearily. He wanted to get drunk again and go to sleep so he wouldn't remember. He picked up the newspaper from the table and tried to read it, but his eyes stared at the lines and his mind replayed his last conversation with Melanie Wilkes.

She had met him at the neighbour estate and had put aside all formalities to give him a big hug. They sat down on the porch and she began to tell him, without waiting for his questions, "Oh, Captain Butler, how good it is to see you! You are alive! I've been praying for you, for it's because of you that my son and I survived! Thank you."

He swallowed, turned his hat in his hands and looked intently into her sad brown eyes.

"Mrs Wilkes, where's Scarlett?" came the question, and Rhett realized even then that his voice was too low and husky.

He remembered Melanie looking away, reaching into her pocket for an old, clean handkerchief, wiping the corners of her eyes and then speaking quickly, "We don't know where she is or what's happened to her! She and my nephew... They're missing, Captain Butler."

Rhett looked at her in bewilderment and said only in all seriousness, "Make yourself clear, damn it!"

Melanie wasn't in the least confused by his harsh words, and she began to tell him, "After you left to fight for Our Deal to the end, Scarlett led us to Twelve Oaks, which had been ruined. We spent the night there, and in the early morning I heard Scarlett crying and cursing. The horse had died and we were desperate, for I could not walk after... After... We had some water left, but Wade and the baby were hungry... So Scarlett decided to walk to Tara to get help from her father or a servant. Prissy, Wade and the baby were to stay with me...Oh, my poor Beau... But at the last minute Wade became very stubborn and no amount of coaxing worked, he wanted to go with his mother. Scarlett even shouted at him, but my nephew clung to her skirt and she finally took him with her, explaining that it would take longer but she would send for us. I believed her every word. Scarlett would have given her life for us... My dear sister..."

Rhett sat still, dreading the rest of the story, but Melanie, wiping her eyes again and adjusting her old chintz dress, said only, "About noon that day an old Doctor Fontaine came to Twelve Oaks to look for vegetables in the gardens, and he saved us! He was on the horse! But when he heard about Scarlett he shook his head sadly and told us that Tara had been burned for a week, that Mrs O'Hara had died of typhoid, that Mr O'Hara and the girls were living with them and their few faithful servants too. Dr Fontaine took us to the estate and then he rode to Tara, from where he returned alone. Scarlett and Wade were nowhere to be found... We searched and searched for so long. Pork went out to look for them a several times, Mr O'Hara was already distraught with grief, and he died a month later."

Rhett closed his eyes with the palm of his hand and didn't know what to say or answer. It seemed to him that something deep inside him had broken off at that moment.

"We haven't found them, Captain Butler... No clues, nothing..."

"It's my fault," he whispered hoarsely, and Melanie looked at him softly, then gently stroked his shoulder.

"Oh, no, Captain Butler... You were trying to save us! It's a terrible war... But I don't believe in their deaths! I don't believe it! Scarlett couldn't have died like that, she was defending herself and protecting Wade! She had a gun with her!"

At that moment, Rhett's only wish was to wake up. But after giving Melanie all the money he had on him, he hurried back to Atlanta. On the way, he stopped at a small river to rest and stared at his reflection in the murky water for a long time.

"Damn it all! Damn it all to hell! Idiot! Idiot! Why didn't I get her to safety!!!" he thought as he looked at himself, clenching his hands in anger and then spitting at his reflection.

When he reached Atlanta, he realized that he would find her! She couldn't be dead! Not her!

And the long months of searching flowed. He travelled alone to all the nearest places, all over the South. He hired men. All attempts came to nothing. Scarlett and Wade were gone, as if they had never existed.

Every attempt left him so desperate, he got drunk so badly. It came to the point where Belle forbade him to drink in her establishment, they fought hard, and he left Atlanta, where it hurt him to be, where everything reminded him of her...

He went to see Melanie a few more times, saw Ashley, back from the front, looking old and lost, saw her sisters, frightened to be left almost alone, saw her old nanny, an old dark skinned woman, wiping away tears as she listened to Melanie's story, which Rhett had asked her to repeat to get every detail.

But days and weeks passed and there was no sign of them.

Rhett moved to Charleston after Christmas, when his father died. He stayed to live on the family estate and visited his mother in town.

He continued his search for a few more months, into the spring. But in early March he decided to give up. At least for some time... Nine months of searching and nothing...

The horn interrupted his thoughts again, the train slowed down and Rhett saw through the window that they were approaching the Saratoga Springs station.

A resort town, a town of mineral springs where rich Yankees paid large sums of money to be cured. A town of gambling and horse racing! His partner was going to have rest there and invited him to join, but Rhett didn't want to. Too little time had passed for him, and all he wanted was the silence, that was wearing him down.

He felt the train stop and ducked into a newspaper, not wanting to look at the people on the platform...

Time was running, second by second, minute by minute, the stop had to be quick. "Not more than five minutes," he thought, reaching into his pocket for his watch, when suddenly something prickled in his chest, he looked up and out the window at the platform.

First his breath caught and his hand stopped in his pocket before he could take out his watch. Then heat hit him, then cold... Then his palms sweated profusely, his breathing quickened, and he clutched the newspaper with his other hand. He almost got up, just repeating to himself, "It can't be... It can't be..."

On the platform, in the distance, he saw a family. A young dark-haired woman in a blue dress, looking up from below and smiling at her husband. A tall man with brown hair in a black suit, with his arm around her shoulder was joking about something. He was holding a boy of about four years old, who was wrapped trustingly around his neck.

Rhett swallowed and couldn't take his eyes off her... "She... It's her... God, it can't be, but it is. My Scarlett..."

He looked again at the little boy, "And that's Wade... Looks like... It's been two years and he's just over four now..."

Rhett heard the whistle and couldn't take his eyes off the family.

The man smiled again and she ran her white gloved hand over his cheek. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek lightly, then quickly ran his palm through her hair. Then he kissed the boy, set him down gently, gave her another hug, said something, grabbed his valise and headed for the train carriage.

Rhett didn't take his eyes off her, didn't change his posture. Suddenly those favourite green eyes, the ones he dreamed about at night, slid into his. He met her gaze through the window, but she looked away just as quickly, as if she didn't recognize him. Then Rhett saw her smile at someone, probably the man, and then she waved a white-gloved hand and took her son by his little hand.

The train started to pull away and it was only then that Rhett realized he had to get off! He had to get off because it was her! His Scarlett!

But the train picked up speed as it pulled away from the station and Rhett sat down on the padded seat, realizing that he was holding a crumpled newspaper, but his hand was shaking.

There was a knock at the door and a moment later a tall man in a black suit peered into the compartment and Rhett swallowed.

"Sorry, sir, am I disturbing you? The attendant said you wouldn't mind if I joined you there..." the man smiled politely, not knowing how to finish his speech, but Rhett quickly motioned him to the seat opposite.

"Please make yourself comfortable," he mattered in a low voice, nodding slightly.

The man smiled gratefully, set the valise down on the seat and sat across from him, unbuttoning his jacket.

Rhett looked at him and let go of the paper. Luck had returned to him.