Hi Everyone,
What can I say apart from apologies for how long this story has been on hiatus for.
Hope you enjoy!
Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and for Scarlett it was like living in a nightmare that she couldn't wake up from. She had quickly taken control of Tara once it became clear that her Pa could no longer manage to do so. Gerald's struggle with accepting Ellen's death had broken his mind, and Scarlett's heart. It was with grim determination to keep busy, to not starve, simply to stay alive, that Scarlett picked up the mantle from his once steadfast shoulders.
Her sisters had both been struck down by the same typhoid fever which had killed their mother and were weakened from their ordeal, as was Melly. Their recoveries were slow, but Scarlett had hoped that some of the burden would lessen when they were better and able to help with the unsurmountable task of running Tara, however it was not to be. There was so much to be done, and so few of them to do the work, as many of the slaves had run away or left to aid in the war effort. It was at Scarlett's insistence that those who had remained at Tara all do their part, but, rather unsurprisingly, she was met with strong resistance from her sister.
Suellen had at first flat out refused to help Scarlett in the fields, arguing that it was beneath her to do such physical work, and just think of what it would do her hands! After several blazing rows between the two, Melanie and stepped in and spoke to Suellen in private. Scarlett didn't know what Melly had said, but Suellen soon began helping, albeit grudgingly and with a great deal of complaint.
Careen had been only too happy to help out wherever she could, but her sickness had left her in such a weakened state that she was more often a hinderance than a help. Scarlett had suggested a few times that it may be better if she were to help Melly look after the children, but Careen had surprised her by stubbornly refusing to do so.
"I only want to help Scarlett. You can't do it all alone" she had argued.
"I'm not doing it alone!" Scarlett snapped, "why Prissy is helping and Suellen and-" she broke off as a wave of anger came over her. Prissy was as useless as Suellen, and everyone at Tara knew it. But the last thing Scarlett needed was for anything to happen to Careen that could prevent her from being truly useful in the months to follow.
"I'm helping Scarlett, whether you like it or not." It was the first time Scarlett had truly seen the O'Hara spirit her Pa had always gone on about, that was so lacking in Suellen, in her baby sister. She had long believed that Careen took after Ellen, with her gentle temperament and devout nature. It came as such a shock to have her sister stand up to her, that Scarlett was quite taken aback, and a newfound respect for her crept in, and so she allowed Careen to carry on helping.
It was only once she had passed out in the middle of the field one day that Scarlett, despite her sister's weak protestations, forbade her from helping them outside anymore.
A week later, Scarlett was picking cotton in the fields with Suellen and Prissy, listening to Sue complain for what must be the tenth time about the state of her hands. Turning her back on her sister in an effort to drown her out, she carried on with the task at hand but barely a minute had gone by before she heard a thud.
"Miss Scarlett, Miss Suellen done fainted!" Prissy shrieked.
Scarlett spun round and saw Sue lying on the ground. As she hurried over to her, she spied her basket which was sat, quite upright, as if it had merely been placed down. Suellen had witnessed poor Careen's fainting incident the week before, and it quickly crossed Scarlett's mind that Suellen was just petty and spiteful enough to attempt a similar ploy if it meant she could get out of the hard work. As she crouched down next to her sister, one of Suellen's eyes cracked open, just the tiniest amount, but Scarlett noticed. Annoyance pulsed through her veins, as she forced herself to stay calm.
"Miss Suellen is quite alright Prissy" she said, standing up. "I do believe she's just having a quick rest" Scarlett ground out through gritted teeth. With that she turned to leave, but stopped, and in a moment of spite, stomped on Suellen's prone hand.
"Stop being such a hateful brat and get up" Scarlett said angrily, ignoring Suellen's cry of pain.
For weeks following the incident, Sullen had taken great care to hug her hand to her chest, crying loudly to whoever was around that Scarlett had tried to break her hand, which was beyond stupid in Scarlett's opinion. Of course she hadn't tried to break her hand! Then she would be even more useless than she was now, the silly cow.
By the end of the day, Scarlett was always exhausted. The work was hard, and every day was more physically and mentally demanding than the last. It was taking its toll on her body, with her hands becoming rough and calloused and her back ached like she never knew possible. But no matter how tired she was, when night-time came Scarlett always made the effort to put Wade to bed. She spent little enough time with him as it was. His days were spent with Melly, Careen, and Mammy. Hers were spent trying to keep it all together, their once easy way of living now so very far in the past.
Once Scarlett had put Wade to bed in the nursey, she would go to her room, close the door on the world and collapse into bed. She had suffered from nightmares for months, dreaming she was running through fog, starving and frightened and desperately searching from something that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Some nights she would creep into Melly's room after a particularly bad nightmare, her sister-in-law's soothing presence helped Scarlett drift back off, knowing she wasn't as alone as she felt.
Mid-spring of 1865 brought news that the war, finally, was over. Fleetingly, Scarlett rejoiced at the thought that normality might soon be within reach, but quickly came to realise that the hardships of war would be felt long after the fighting had ceased.
As spring turned into summer, soldiers came and went from Tara. Some familiar, others complete strangers, who Scarlett had to be coerced into helping by Melly, whose kind nature hadn't been dampened by the horrors of the past few years. Ever hopeful, Melanie asked each new arrival whether they had any news of Ashley, as the last they had heard, he had been captured and imprisoned in a Yankee jail. The returning soldiers were always apologetic, but without information. Eventually however, Melanie's optimism paid off, and one scorching day in September, Ashley Wilkes showed up at Tara. For a brief moment, Scarlett was pleased to see him, she was tired of shouldering everything and she thought Ashley would be able to help and offer her respite from her heavy load. It quickly transpired that she was wrong. She shouldn't have been surprised, she thought bitterly, Ashley had never been practically minded and seemed ever more to be drawn into discussions of the past than plans for the future.
Despite everything, Christmas of 1865 was more joyous than the previous year. Whilst food was still scarce and there was a distinct lack of presents, the war was over, and Tara's occupants were in the mood to celebrate. However, for Scarlett it was just another reminder of how much life had changed. As she watched Wade open the one present she had managed to acquire, she was filled with anger and despair at how much her little boy was missing out on, and with his fourth birthday rapidly approaching, she feared it would bring another meagre offering.
However, before his birthday could arrive, Scarlett was struck by yet another blow by way of a visit from Jonas Wilkerson, their old overseer and his new wife, Emmy Slattery. Three hundred dollars he had demanded in taxes on Tara. It was three hundred dollars more than she had and more than she could even fathom how to raise right now. As she watched their carriage leave the property in a cloud of dust, her outrage turned to panic as she heard a voice behind her.
"Scarlett! Scarlett, come quick!" Looking towards the house, she saw Melanie stood in the doorway, a troubled look upon her normally calm face. Scarlett rushed over.
"Whatever's the matter, Melly?" she gasped. Her next words made Scarlett's blood run cold.
"It's Wade, he's not right Scarlett.." Without another thought, Scarlett picked up her skirts as she flew up the stairs and into the nursery that Wade shared with Beau. She hurried over to her son, who was lying in bed, his breathing shallow and his eyes closed.
"Wade? Wade, darling what's wrong?" Scarlett asked, her hands hovering anxiously above her son, afraid that if she touched him, it would make everything worse. Eventually her hand came to rest on his brow, and Scarlett turned to Melanie in fear.
"Why he's burning up Melly! We must fetch a doctor immediately…" she trailed off as she remembered that there was no doctor who could come to their aid. "What if it's typhoid? It killed Mother, and Wade's only little, what if he.. what if he.." her hand flew over her mouth to stifle the sudden sob that threated to escape. Now was no time for getting emotional, not when her child needed her.
"Pull yourself together Scarlett" she whispered to herself, her brain spinning as she tried to think of what to do.
"He has to get better, and I have to find three hundred dollars. Then everything will be fine" Scarlett muttered, saying a silent prayer to Ellen as the gravity of her situation hit her.
"Three hundred dollars?" Melanie questioned sitting down beside Scarlett as Mammy puffed into the room, a bowl of cool water and a cloth in her hand.
"Here Miss Melly, what you wanted for the poor chile".
Scarlett watched as Melanie held the damp cloth to her son's feverish brow. She stroked her son's hair, her eyes not leaving his face as she briefly told Melanie of Wilkerson's impossible demand.
"What shall we do Melly?" she whispered. "Everything is as bad as it could be".
"Oh Scarlett dear, it'll all be alright, you'll see." It was useless advice, and Scarlett knew it was meant to comfort her, but she didn't want comfort. She wanted help and there was no one at Tara who could conceivably help with either of her problems right now. Once again, it was all up to her, she thought grimly.
For a week, Scarlett didn't leave Wade's bedside as he slipped in and out of consciousness, his face pale and clammy, his black hair drenched with sweat. Everything she had done, she had done for him. She had starved so he could eat. She had worked day after day in the fields, picking cotton, to ensure that Tara survived. It would be his one day. It was his birth-right and she would be damned if she couldn't save it for him. She would simply have to find that three hundred dollars, but first she had to focus on saving her son, or it would all be for nothing.
Eventually, Wade's fever broke and Scarlett's relief flooded through her body like a river bursting through a dam. She would never cease to be amazed at how much she cared for her son and thanked heaven he had pulled through. However, their problems were still far from resolved. It was Ashley, surprisingly, who offered a glimmer of hope, on an otherwise joyless day.
"I was talking to George Whitman today" he began, as they tucked into their meagre dinner of yams. "He arrived here just yesterday; he passed through Atlanta where news is that Rhett Butler has been imprisoned by the Yankees".
Scarlett jerked her head up from her plate.
"Rhett's alive?" she asked, her voice only held a slight tremor, for which she was thankful of.
"Well only knows for how much longer" Ashley said. "Rumour has it that he's got away with the Confederacy gold, and if he doesn't turn it over, he'll be hung".
"Oh no!" Melanie gasped, her hand covering her mouth in horror. "Why, without Captain Butler's kindness and bravery, Beau and I might not even be alive right now!"
"Oh Melanie, dearest, there's nothing to be done I fear. He sealed his own fate when he put his own needs before that of his countrymen" Ashley replied, patting his wife's hand.
"If I may be excused" Scarlett interrupted, "I feel quite tired all of a sudden".
"Of course, dear" Melanie said, her face set with worry as Scarlett stood up from the table, her chair scraping loudly against the wooden floor.
She hurried up the stairs and into her bedroom, the door slamming carelessly behind her as she flung herself onto her bed, her heart beating wildly. It had been over a year since Rhett had left her at Rough and Ready, with nothing but a kiss, and a declaration of love to keep her going.
But such foolish things hadn't helped her survive. They didn't keep people fed, or healthy. They were useless and he had left her, alone, to cope with unimaginable horrors, and shoulder the heaviest of burdens, while everyone looked to her for answers she didn't have. She had long buried whatever feelings she may have had for Rhett and over a year without word, without even hope as to his survival, it has been easier for Scarlett to think him dead.
Until now. And of course he wasn't dead, she thought wildly, sitting up on her bed. A war couldn't kill Rhett Butler. Imprisoned, that she could believe. And he had money too, if the rumours were correct. Money which she was in desperate need of.
"I have to see him" she whispered to herself and for the first time in what seemed like forever, she felt something akin to hope.
Thanks for reading, next chapter coming soon, and I spy a reunion on the horizon!