Author's note: I am not completely satisfied with this chapter, particularly the end, so if any one has any comments or suggestions I would love to hear from you. Should there be more, should there be less? Is it too sudden? Thanks and enjoy!

And so the days passed, and Scarlett was granted the desire of her heart. First she accessed her acount in Atlanta and drew out a large sum of money, and after many hours spent talking with Will and Sue-Ellen, they decided to start from the outside and work inward. They agreed to let Scarlett hire on some free darkies, and in addition to being payed, the workers were also offered housing. Will, the workers, and Wade began with the fields, restoring the soil and planting more crops, mostly cotton but others as well. By the spring, the fields were white and green, and the sound of the darkies' singing could be heard all the way into the house.

While the men worked on the outside, Scarlett, Sue-Ellen, and Ella worked on the inside. Scarlett and Sue-Ellen had gone up into the attic one day to look for their mother's sewing box and any left over fabrics. As Sue looked for the sewing box, Scarlett saw a mass of fabric over in the corner. Picking it up, she stifled a cry of anguish, but sobs caught in her throat, and her tears spitlt over. "Scarlett, whatever is the matter? Are you alright?" Sue-Ellen glanced at the lush green fabric that Scarlett held in her hands and realized that it was the dress that Scarlett had made out of their mother's curtains, the very same dress that she wore to Atlanta when she had asked Rhett for money. Scarlett had collapsed on the dusty floor, and her tears continued to fall in an unabated torrent.

"Oh, Sue! I am so sorry! Why was I so terrible? What did you ever do to me that I would do such a terrible thing to you? He was your beau, and I killed him!"

"No, Scarletter, you-"

"Yes, I did. I killed him! I never loved him. I only married him because we needed money, and I saw that he was doing so well with his store, so I...I don't know. It's like I wasn't thinking at all. The words just kept coming out of my mouth, and before I realized what I had done, we were married.

"And I was so angry at Rhett for not giving me the money. I was angry that my charms that had worked on every other man in the county were lost on him; so I responded by doing something foolish. Perhaps I wanted to make him jealous by getting another man to help me. Either way, I was stupid, and I am so sorry! I wish I could take it all back. I could have been nicer to him. He was only kind and gentle with me, but I treated him terribly. Oh, why am I such a hateful person?"

Sue-Ellen was quiet for a long while as she continued to stare at her sister. Scarlett was afraid to meet her sister's eyes, afraid of what she might find there, but at length she lifted her eyes from the green dress and met her sister's. "Scarlett," she finally said, "we all make mistakes, and although you hurt me beyond repair, I have forgiven you for it. While I did love Frank, I think I was more upset by the fact that he did not fight for me. He just took your words and believed them without investigating himself. So in a way, he chose you over me, and I was slighted. Yes, I was angry at you for telling him such lies, but I was more angry that he did not come to Tara himself to see if your words were true. This tells me something about Frank's character, and now, in many ways, I am glad that I did not marry him. And although I know you feel terrible, remember that it is because of Frank that you have Ella. That little girls loves you, and I know she means more to you than perhaps you realzie. So you see, something good can always come out of disaster."

Scarlett could not bring herself to respond, and she continued to stare at the green dress, twisting and pulling it in her hands. Finally Sue-Ellen reached out her hand and placed them on top of Scarlett's. "Scarlett, it's in the past. As Pa would say, 'let bygones be bygones.'"

Slowly she lifted her eyes. "Truly?"

Her sister nodded.

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All winter they were hard at work making curtains, recovering furniture, hanging pictures, and purchasing countless new items to make the place feel warm and lived in. The men repainted the outside of the house, and by the beginning of the summer, Tara had been restored to its formal glory. She was magnificent again, impressive and towering above the land, casting its long sheltering shadow over their lives.

One evening, they were all sitting in the parlor. Scarlett and Sue-Ellen were mending, Ella was playing with her dolls, Wade was tinkering with something, and Will was peacefully smoking his pipe, a thoughtful expression on his face. Suddenly, Scarlett's face lit up, and her voice pierced the silence. "Oh, Sue, I have a wonderful idea!"

Sue-Ellen, extremely tired from the day's work, didn't even glance up from her sewing. "Yes, Scarlett?"

In her excitement, Scarlett stood and crossed the room. "Oh Sue, couldn't we have a dance like we used to when Ma and Pa were alive? Just a small one that we could invite the surrounding families to. It could be like a christening or a rebirth for Tara."

Sue-Ellen sighed, dropped her sewing in her lap, and took off her spectacles. "That sounds wonderful Scarlett, but truth be told, there are not many families left, and those that remain are a mere shadow of what they once were."

"Well, we could extend the invitation into the the next county, and we could offer housing to those families who would have to stay the night. Oh please, Sue, let me have my fun, and I know once we get started, you will too."

The room was silent. Ella and Wade continued to amuse themselves with their little trinkets, pretending to be oblivious to the conversation that was occuring, Will was still quietly smoking his pipe, and an exasperated Sue-Ellen gazed with pleading eyes upon him. "If Will says its alright then you may have your ball, Scarlett."

Suddenly, all eyes in the room were on his slim form, and slowly he lowered the pipe from his mouth, scratched his whiskered chin, and puffed out his lips. "I suppose it would be alright," he said in his southern drawl.

Unable to contain her excitement, Scarlett rushed to his side and flung her arms about him. "Oh, thank you Will, thank you, Sue! You won't be sorry. This is going to be the biggest ball that this county has seen in the last five years!"

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From that evening, until the day of the ball, the house was alive. Sue-Ellen didn't believe that the house could possibly get any cleaner, but Scarlett cracked the whip until even the walls were sparkling. Festive boughs of flowers and decorative greenery were strung up and down the halls and in the lower rooms. Furniture was moved around to make way for a dance floor, invitations were sent out, and a menu had been prepared. Two days before the event, Scarlett, Sue-Ellen, and a new hired helper began to cook and bake. It was to be a feast the likes of which no one had seen in quite a while, and there would be plenty to go around.

The women began to work on new gowns, finally having the luxury to perchase material, but Scarlett absolutely refused to wear anything other than black. "But Scarlett, it just isn't proper. In fact it is rude and suggests ill breeding!" Sue-Ellen complained. But Scarlet was determined. This was the sacrifice she had chosen to make. She had vowed to wear black until she was reconciled with her husband. Let people think what they will. This has nothing to do with them. Sue-Ellen, seeing that the fight was pointless, finally gave up.

The day of the gathering arrived, and Scarlett was beside herself with excitement. She fluttered like a butterfly from room to room, making sure that everything was in order and ready to receive their long expected guests.

Noon came and went, and Scarlett began to worry that no one would come and that all her efforts were in vain. But around two o'clock that afternoon, they had their first arrival, and from then on until well into the evening, the guests continued to pour in. The once quiet rooms were now loud and boisterous, filled with people laughing, dancing, and catching up on gossip. Who was married? How were crops? Was it lonely in the country? How long did it take you to restore the plantation?

Scarlett's eyes danced, her heart was light, and a constant smile lit her features. She was happy again, and she was in her element. This is what she was born to do. She tapped her feet merrily to the rhythm and gladly assented when she was asked to dance. She felt as if she would never grow tired, and she continued to dance and dance, even daring to ask others to dance with her instead of waiting to be invited. At long last she was weary, and she excused herself from the company to drink some punch to quench her thirst.

Still laughing gaily, she began to ladle the red liquid into her crystal cup. Suddenly, she felt eyes on her, and her head snapped up. Their eyes collided, the breath was knocked from her lungs, and Scarlett spilled red punch all down the front of her new dress. But she was oblivious. Rhett was there, staring at her, his eyes boring holes into her soul, making her knees weak with desire. He began to move toward her, and Scarlett thought that she would swoon. Casually he took the cup from her hand and began to ladle the punch himself. "You seem to be having some trouble keeping a steady hand. Allow me to assist you, Mrs. Butler."

She felt a tingling sensation make its way up and down her spine at the sound of her title as his wife. She still could not find her voice to respond, and so he continued. "You have planned a very nice gathering, Scarlett. I congratulate you on your success. And Tara looks amazing as well. You certainly have been busy."

Finally, she found her voice, desperate to say the words that she had been planning to say to him, but she decided on a polite, "Thank you, and yes, being busy helps."

He raised his eyebrow, and his mocking smile that she knew so well flashed across his face. "Helps what?"

"It keeps my mind off of less welcome thoughts and memories."

He winced, and Scarlett immediately regretted her words. "I didn't mean it that way," she quickly ammended. "I meant-"

"There's no need to explain, Scarlett. What was once between us is better left in the past, where it belongs. However, you are a hard one to find when you don't want to be found."

A deep blush crept its way across her face, and her eyes discoursed from his. She opened her mouth to speak, but suddenly her eyes flashed about the room, realizing that there was no privacy, even among old friends. Her eyes pleaded his, desperately hoping that he would have to tact to suggest a more private place in which to talk. Rhett hid a smile. "Perhaps we should take this conversation else where?" And extending his arm, he led her to the porch.

The night was cool for the summer, and a gentle breeze ruffled her hair and the hem of her dress. She obliged his gesture and took a seat in a rocking chair. He followed her example. "Why did you leave, Scarlett? Whatever came over you? You left no indication, whether spoken or written, as to where you were going. Something could have happened to you, and nobody would have ever known! Do you realize how foolish that was?"

He was becoming angry, but she didn't care. All she could concentrate on was the sheer amount of worry and concern in his tone. "I wanted it to be that way. I wanted to disappear off the face of the earth, seperate myself from anyone who knew me so that I could have the opportunity to start anew, begin a new life where nobody could judge me because of past behavior. I couldn't stand it anymore: their judgemental stares, the flury of whispers that arose everytime I merely walked into a room! There is only so much a person can withstand, and I did not want our children to be exposed to that kind of lifestyle. It would only teach them to be vengeful and unkind."

"Our children?"

She continued on. "I wanted to be away from the things, places, and people that reminded me of sadder times, and if that meant leaving the house on Peach Tree street then so be it. There is only one thing that could have held me to that house."

She knew that he understood what she was implying, and so she waited, eager for his reply. The seconds ticked by, and still he did not respond. His face was unreadable, and frustrated, she stood and crossed the porch to the banister, gripping it for support. Finally, she heard him stand and approach her. She felt his warm breath stir the tendrils of hair on the nape of her neck, and she shivered, when he whispered her name. "Scarlett."

But she couldn't wait for his response any longer. Spinning around, she took his hands into her own. "Oh, Rhett, I am so sorry! I am sorry for everything that I have ever said or done to hurt you. I regret every minute of my life that I wasted by insulting you or not appreciating your company. I have spent every day since you left after Melanie's death thinking of how to win you back, to show you that I have never wanted anything more in my whole entire life than to have you by my side. And even now, as I pour my heart out to you, making myself completely bare, I fear being rejected. But it seems such a small thing. Just tell me if you will have me, and if not, I will leave you alone, disappear and never trouble you again, and you will be free to forget me, to forget that I even exsisted."

Her eyes were once again alive with the fire that he knew so well, but there was also desperation in her stare. Carefully, he freed his hands from her grasp, and Scarlett felt her heart sink, and she saw her world reel before her eyes. He was going to walk away, even after her desperate plea. Her confession was in vain, and after everything, he was once again going to abandon her. Her face fell, and she found that she no longer had the will to stare into his eyes, afraid of what she would find there.

But then, like a butterfly landing on her skin, she felt his hand caress her cheek, her neck, and then her hair while his other arm wrapped itself around her waist, pulling her closer. She was crushed as he pulled her into his strong, comforting embrace, and she closed her eyes. And then she felt his chest heave, and his shoulders wilt. "It is I who need to ask forgiveness, Scarlett. If only I could have let go of my pride. I wanted to love you, but because you were so strong, I felt that I had to be harsh, more stern in order to place myself above you. I could not abide the thought of humbling myself before you. I was afraid that what little chance I had of you loving me would be lost, if I changed the way I was.

"And I am sorry about Bonnie. It was my fault that she died. I spoiled her and pampered her, thinking that if I did not have your favor I could at least have her unconditional adoration. I wanted to win her over, and I pretended that she was you as a little girl, reasoning to myself in some twisted way that if she loved me then you would too. But I seem to ruin everything I touch. It is like I am diseased. First Bonnie, then Mellie, and finally our marraige. Maybe I am a monster that is incapable of love. I want to try, but everytime I do, I fail."

She could not control the sobs that rose in her throat, and she cried aloud, uncaring of the listening ears that were within the house. But the music played on, and she could only hope that the party was oblivious to the scene that was outside their window. Scarlett pulled away, unable to stand it any longer, and she brushed the tears from his face, cradling his cheek in her hand. He looked at her, and his eyes were full of anguish and sorrow. They were empty, a reflection of her own heart, and in one swift movement, she was pulled up against him, her lips covered by his.

Her feet weren't even touching the floor, and a new wave a tears coursed down her face, but these were tears of joy, and she wound her fingers into his thick black hair as the kiss gained life with every passing second. It seemed that time had stopped and that they were the only two people in the world, that even the stars were rejoicing at their union. When they finally pulled away, they were breathless, but they still continued to cling to one another. Looping their arms about each others' waists, the made their way to the door. "So," he began playfully, a smile in his voice, "who died?" He brushed his hand across the black ruffles that lined the neck of her gown.

She sighed and laid her head against his chest. "I guess myself really. When you left, a part of me died, the childish part of me that desired pretty things and extravagent dresses. It no longer seemed to matter, now that you weren't a part of it. It was an outward symbol of my inward contrition, a way for me to show others, and myself, that I was truly sorry for the things that I had done and that I was desperately trying to mend my ways."

"Well, the first thing I am going to do is buy you a new frock. The time for mourning is over." And together, they walked back into the house.