Note: Well here is my sequel. My other attempt at it that is. I did write Ice in the Wind but I decided to give another go at it and have been working on it since last summer. So please review and if you guys like it enough, I'll keep posting. But it is much harder writing a sequel then a what-if story. It has been a challenge to keep Scarlett and Rhett in character and to know what would happen. So I hope you all enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Gone With The Wind or Scarlett nor any of the characters.

Part 1

Everyone knew Scarlett O'Hara Hamilton Kennedy Butler was a woman of misery and deceitfulness. She did posses beauty still for her twenty-eight years. Her complexion was still the prized magnolia color fitting for a southern belle and she had tiny hands and her waist was still trim despite the three children she had borne. Her green eyes were still bewitching and could trap any man. Yes, she was a beauty like her deceased mother Ellen Robillard O'Hara with her French descent and the square-like jaw. But she was cold and unfeeling, so did people say.

Her jaw was clenched and her face pale and strained as she stood still. She was like a reed not shaken by the wind, with no outward expression showing. Indeed, she didn't shed a tear as Melanie Wilkes was laid to rest in Atlanta's Oakland Cemetery next to Scarlett's first husband, Melanie's brother Charlie. It was just as well, thought Scarlett bitterly, for I would never want to be buried next to a man I didn't love.

All the mourners gathered around the grave as the reverend spoke. Everyone was there: The Merriwethers, the Whitings, and the Elsings. Henry Hamilton stood next to Pittypat as she wailed with her plump arms thrown around him, their feud forgotten. Dilcey, Cookie and Uncle Peter stood behind the crowd as tears silently ran down their cheeks. And Ashley, he was standing as still as a statue next to India and Beau. He started to walk away from the crowd in a daze, as he looked at all the other graves but Melanie's.

She was shaken to her very soul as she watched the casket being lowered with her only true friend in the world within it. Never would she see her heart-shaped face or hear her soothing voice. But she mustn't cry, for then the fat old cats would win. And as long as there was breath left in Scarlett O'Hara's body, the world or all of Atlanta wouldn't lick her.

"Fools all of them," she whispered, "Oh Melly why aren't you here when I need you so?" Who would love and accept her now? Rhett was gone, her children just as well lost to her for they were at Tara and they were no comfort to her. If only her little daughter with the laughing blue eyes and tumbling black curls, her Bonnie were alive she would have some comfort. But no, not far from where she stood, lay the grave stone that read Eugenie Victoria: Bonnie Butler. How cruel that her daughter was taken when that child had been more loved and admired then her other two children.

She saw Pittypat swaying on her feet about to faint but she didn't give a damn. Melanie would have comforted her. Melanie's soft brown eyes and small, soothing hands. Why, her eyes were like candles, thought Scarlett suddenly. Who had likened Melanie's eyes to candles? It had been Rhett. He should have been beside her now so they could share their grief. To cry against him and to be sheltered by his broad shoulders in this cruel world.

Ashley stood across from her, sheltered by India. India still held the grudge that she had stolen Stuart Tarleton's affections. But Stu had never wanted India. For India was still a mean and hateful spinster with a pale face and colorless lashes. She glared at Scarlett from across the crowd of mourners and Scarlett stiffly looked away, her chin rising and shoulders squared back. She saw Ashley's lifeless gray eyes meet hers and she looked away, feeling guilty and wanting to have her own greif.

She didn't want Ashley Wilkes any more. He was gone to her as the days before the war. The happy old days when Gerald would spoil her and Ellen would softly walk near her, regal and beautiful with her set face and soft voice. No, she didn't want Ashley any longer. For she had discarded him like an old pair of shoes, an old haunt that didn't mean anything to her. She would take care of him and little Beau as she had promised Melly but she could care less if she ever saw his drowsy gray eyes again or hear his talk of honor.

She wanted to desperartly forget the past. But more important than that was how she wanted Rhett. His mocking eyes and full twisting lips she would gladly trade every stolen kiss with Ashley for Rhett. He had loved her once and he must still love her. She felt an acute sense of loss and anger that he had left her when she needed him so, more now then ever. She didn't blame him for she knew she had been awful to him all those years but he had left, as if their marriage had meant nothing to him. As if his declaration of love was a thing of the past.

Like a child she frantically thought of a way to bring him back. Melanie would have helped her. But her only true friend in the world was gone. Dead because of her desire for children. Melanie had loved babies so much, but it had killed her. She blamed Ashley for that too. If it weren't for Ashley, Melanie wouldn't be dead and Rhett wouldn't have left her. But she would always be stuck with him because of her promise to Melly before she died. "He'll be hanging on my skirts for the rest of my life," she thought. "Oh if only he weren't so weak and broken, I could easily say to hell with him and forget."

"Where's her husband?" she heard someone mutter. And she heard them talking about her but she didn't care. "Shameless, going after Ashley with Mrs. Wilkes not cold in her grave..."

India glared at her as if she were to blame for what they were saying about her. With a cold look, Scarlett started walking forward, pushing past an old matron and making her way towards Melanie's large casket all ready lowered in the gaping hole. She felt a sickening and surreal feeling as she dropped one white rose on the casket. "Good-bye, Melly," she whispered with a look of pain in her eyes. But once again she had the cool look in her pale green eyes as she faced the crowd and started for her black carriage, head held high.

She saw the a crowd of darkies. Their faces floated before her, a crowd of them. The only ones she recognized were Uncle Peter and Cookie. They were crying shamelessly and clutching each other. There had to be at least a hundred people packed togther, flashes of black clothing in the crowd. They had all loved Melanie. She remembered Rhett calling her a great lady. Just like mother, thought Scarlett, like mother... gone and buried, something beautiful had died with Melanie, yet she couldn't comphrehend what it was. She stumbled past Uncle Peter, not bearing to meet his eyes, for she knew his look would match her own.

"Scarlett! Scarlett!"

She paused, her whole body stiffening as she turned and saw Uncle Henry Hamilton running towards her, his stocky body making his running difficult and kicking up the fallen leaves. He was out of breath by the time he reached her. What a bad time for him to speak with her when her whole world was falling a part!

"What is it Uncle Henry? I am in a hurry."

"I won't keep you long, Scarlett," he said. "You know how I take care of your expenses and keep things in order..."

"Yes, yes," she impatiently said. "Spit it out, Henry."

"Your husband paid me a visit this morning saying he'd like a divorce and he- he is offering you a tidy financial sum for the proceedings should you give your consent."

"Over my dead body!" she cried. Oh how dare he drag Henry Hamilton into this mess, only a few days after Melanie's death. How humiliating! So much for his talk of returning to keep the gossip down. Rhett had known she didn't want a divorce. And the fact that Rhett was still in Atlanta sent her heart trembling. More then likely he was at that Belle Watling's and that angered her all the more.

She clenched her hands and angrily stalked towards her carriage which was only a few yards away and shot over her shoulder, "You tell him I won't divorce him! And that I'll be at Tara if he wishes to contact me himself!"

"But Scarlett everyone needs you. Surely you won't leave your family in need," he said in a scolding tone as if she were a child.

She froze, her spine stiffening and spun around, her eyes narrowing into slits. "You take care of them! They've hung on to my skirts long enough. Before the funeral they all ran to me! Saying 'what do we do now?' and they came crying to me. Well I wash my hands of them. I'm going to Tara, Henry and not even God could stop me."

That's when she noticed a solitary figure alone by an large oak tree. Her heart stopped and she could hear her heart hammering. It was Rhett.

TBC