This is the fourth part of a Rhett POV series I've been working on and posting to one of the GWTW Yahoo lists. It may or may not be the last in the series.
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Haven
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The bed was luxuriantly soft and comfortable, but he was more interested in the warm, soft body curled under the sheets. In their six months of marriage, he’d learned there was only one reason Scarlett slept curled into a ball rather than sprawling across the bed as was her normal habit.
When he’d taken her to bed on their wedding night, the thinness he’d felt at the jail was more strikingly confirmed. For the first time in his life, he’d been worried about hurting the woman with whom he was making love. In the morning, as his fingers traced over slender ribs, he worried what toll pregnancy would take on her now, for she was skinnier and more exhausted than anyone else at Tara. They would have to be careful, because he wanted her to have time to rest, relax, and enjoy marriage.
He’d told her his concerns, and she’d blushed a most delightful shade of pink in the early morning light, burying her face in the pillows until his whispers in her ears and teasing kisses had gotten the better of her temper. In a fit of embarrassed frustration, she’d told him she didn’t think she could have more children, for in the last horrible year, the only blessing had been her flux stopping.
After that, he’d calmed her, saying so much the better, but it had troubled him far more than he was willing to admit to her. He had heard of such things happening to those starving, and wondered just what other unseen tolls the hardships of the war had wrought upon her. Not for the first time, too, he wondered what might have been if he’d not left her that night on the McDonough Road. How different things might have been for both of them.
Rhett had acquiesced to her desire to initially settle at Tara, though he had no real wish to live there himself. She’d been surprisingly reluctant at first to accept his help to improve the situation there, as if it was shocking for a husband to hire help so his wife would not have to work in the fields, or buy enough food to feed and dress everyone.
Eventually, Scarlett seemed to realize how wonderful all of this was, and was not shy about expressing her happiness to him. She’d been free enough with kisses and small shows of affection, and for now this was enough. He knew that she wasn’t in love with him when she married him, for she’d freely admitted as much, but he could see her affection for him increasing as the months passed.
One night, after noticing her looking pained as she worked hunched over Tara’s books all day, he’d slid into bed and reached for her, wanting to knead away her tension. She’d been uncharacteristically curled up, facing away from him, and flinched farther away at his touch. With only slightly less embarrassment than their conversation the morning after their wedding, she’d told him that her flux had returned.
He’d said nothing, only slid his hands further down her back and began to knead her tense muscles, noting with pleasure that her curves were beginning to return as well. Under his hands, he could feel her relax into his touch, and eventually fall asleep. Over time, he observed that she never uttered one word of complaint, nor took to her bed as other women might, but he saw the subtle notes of pain in her face, and her nightmares were always worse at this time.
This night, when he slid into bed next to his wife he felt the bed shift as she slid ever so slightly closer to him. He obliged by settling close behind her and enclosing her in his arms. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired.” For all his efforts, and her willingness to share his bed, she was still unwilling to discuss matters she viewed as indecent.
He played along, for the moment. “You work too hard, Scarlett. You don’t have to anymore.”
She turned in his arms, and the sight of threatening tears sparkling in the faint moonlight astonished him. “I don’t know how to stop anymore. Since I came home, I’ve been working so hard, even when I’m tired and hurting, that I don’t know what will happen to me if I stop.”
It was as close as he’d ever come to hearing her admit any sort of pain. Without responding, he drew her closer, wrapping his arms around her to massage the taunt muscles of her back. When she rested her forehead against his chest and let out a sigh, he finally responded to her. “I thought that was why you married me. So you could stop worrying and working.”
“I don’t worry anymore.” She embraced him tightly and the feel of her slim, strong fingers on his shoulders stirred his desire. Then she spoke again, and quashed those thoughts. “You’ve been so wonderful to me, to everyone at Tara. But I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something else horrible to happen. Everything seems too good to be true, after before.”
“Didn’t you listen to fairy tales when you were a child? This is happily ever after. Only we’re a slightly tarnished knight and an impoverished princess, so this is what we get.”
She was quiet for a long time, and he was afraid he’d truly upset her with his glib remark. Then very quietly, she said, “When I was young and Ashley came home from Europe, I thought he looked like a knight out of a fairy tale, riding up with shining hair and a brilliant gray horse. But he was only a storybook knight if you lived as we used to. Now I think there’s more brilliance in what you’ve done for me.”
He kissed her softly on the lips as she snuggled closer to him. “Thank you, Scarlett. Neither of us are what we were taught to idealize. But we are both smart and stubborn enough to make it through the worst, alone. Together we can slay whatever dragons need slaughtering.”
She laughed then, something she did far to infrequently now. “I’m holding you to that promise.”
“I’m at your service, milady.” He smiled and kissed her again before they both drifted off to sleep.
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End
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