Rhett looked at her strangely, cautiously. “What do you ‘understand,’ Scarlett?”

“Why you’re here, instead of in town. Why you must bring the plantation back to life. Tell me what you’ve done, what you’re going to do. It’s so exciting!”

Rhett’s face lit up, and he gestured toward the long rows of plants behind him. “They burned,” he said, “but they didn’t die. It looks as if perhaps they were even strengthened by the burning. The ashes may have given them something they needed. I’ve got to find out. I’ve got so much to learn.”

Scarlett looked at the low stubby remains. She didn’t know those dark green shiny leaves.

“What kind of tree is it? Do you grow peaches here?”

“They’re not trees. Scarlett, they’re shrubs. Camellias. The first ones ever brought to America were planted here at Dunmore Landing. These are offshoots, over three hundred all told.”

“Do you mean they’re flowers?”

“Of course. The most nearly perfect flower in the world. The Chinese worship them.”

“But you can’t eat flowers. What crops are you planting?”

“I can’t think about crops. I’ve got a hundred acres of garden to save.”

“That’s crazy, Rhett. What’s a flower garden good for? You could grow something to sell. I know cotton doesn’t grow ’round here, but there must be some good cash crop. Why, at Tara, we put every foot of land to use. You could plant right up to the walls of the house. Just look how green and thick that grass is. The land must be as rich as anything. All you’d have to do is plow it and drop in the seed, and it would probably sprout faster than you could get out of the way.” She looked eagerly at him, ready to share her hard-earned knowledge.

“You’re a barbarian, Scarlett,” Rhett said heavily. “Go up to the house and tell Pansy to get ready. I’ll meet you at the dock.”

What had she done wrong? One minute he was full of life and excitement, then all of a sudden it was gone and he was cold, a stranger. She’d never understand him if she lived to be a hundred. She strode rapidly up the green terraces, blind now to their beauty, and into the house.


The boat moored to the landing was very different from the scabrous barge that had brought Scarlett and Pansy to the plantation. It was a sleek brown-painted sloop with bright brass fittings and gilt scroll trim. Beyond it in the river was another boat, one that she’d much prefer, Scarlett thought angrily. It was five times the size of the sloop and it had two decks with white and blue gingerbread scrollwork trim and a bright red rear paddlewheel. Gaily colored bunting flags were strung from its smokestacks, and brightly dressed men and women crowded the rails on both decks. It looked festive and fun.

It’s just like Rhett, Scarlett brooded, to go to the city in his dinky little boat instead of hailing the steamer to pick us up. She reached the landing just as Rhett took off his hat and made a sweeping, flamboyant bow to the people on the paddlewheeler.

“Do you know those folks?” she said. Maybe she was wrong, maybe he was signalling.

Rhett turned from the river, replacing his hat. “Indeed I do. Not individually, I hope, but in the whole. That’s the weekly excursion boat from Charleston up the river and back. A highly profitable business for one of our carpetbagger citizens. Yankees buy tickets well in advance for the pleasure of seeing the skeletons of the burned-out plantation houses. I always greet them if it’s convenient; it amuses me to see the confusion it engenders.” Scarlett was too appalled to say a word. How could Rhett make a joke out of a bunch of Yankee buzzards laughing at what they’d done to his home?

She settled herself obediently on a cushioned bench in the small cabin, but as soon as Rhett stepped up on deck she jumped up to examine the intricate arrangement of cupboards, shelves, supplies and equipment, each thing in a place obviously designed for its storage. She was still busily satisfying her curiosity as the sloop moved slowly along the riverbank for a short distance and then tied up again. Rhett called out crisp orders. “Pass those bundles over and tie them down on the bow.” Scarlett poked her head up from the hatch to see what was going on.

Gracious peace, what was all this? Dozens of black men were leaning on picks and shovels and watching as a series of bulky sacks were thrown to a crewman on the sloop. Where on earth could they be? This place looked like the back side of the moon. There was a huge clearing in the woods with a big pit dug in it and gigantic piles of what looked like pale chunks of rock on one side. Chalky dust filled the air and, soon, her nostrils, and she sneezed.

Pansy’s echoing sneeze from the rear deck caught her attention. No fair, she thought. Pansy had a good view of everything. “I’m coming up,” Scarlett shouted.

“Cast off,” Rhett said at the same time.

The sloop moved quickly, caught by the fast river current, sending Scarlett tumbling down from the short ladder-stair into a graceless sprawl in the cabin. “Damn you, Rhett Butler, I could have broken my neck.”

“You didn’t. Stay put. I’ll be down shortly.”

Scarlett heard the creaking of ropes, and the sloop picked up speed. She scrambled to one of the benches and pulled herself up.

Almost immediately Rhett stepped easily down the ladder, his head bent to clear the hatch. He straightened up, and his head grazed the polished wood above it. Scarlett glared at him.

“You did that on purpose,” she grumbled.

“Did what?” He opened one of the small portholes and closed the hatch. “Good,” he said then, “we’ve got a following wind and a strong current. We’ll be in the city in record time.” He dropped onto the bench opposite Scarlett and lounged back, sleek and sinuous as a cat. “I assume you won’t object if I smoke.” His long fingers dipped into the interior pocket of his coat and extracted a cheroot.

“I object a lot. Why am I shut up down here in the dark? I want to go upstairs in the sun.”

“Above,” Rhett corrected automatically. “This is a rather small craft. The crew is black, Pansy is black, you are white and a woman. They get the cockpit, you get the cabin. Pansy can roll her eyes at the two men, laugh at their somewhat indelicate gallantries, and they’ll all three have a pleasant time. Your presence would spoil it.

“So at the same time that the underclass is enjoying the journey, you and I, the privileged elite, will be thoroughly miserable cooped up in each other’s company while you continue to pout and whine.”

“I’m not pouting and whining! And I’ll thank you not to talk to me as if I was a child!” Scarlett pulled in her lower lip. She hated it when Rhett made her feel foolish. “What was that quarry we stopped at?”

“That, my dear, was the salvation of Charleston and my passport back into the bosom of my people. It is a phosphate mine. There are dozens of them scattered along both rivers.” He lit his cigar with prolonged appreciation and the smoke spiraled upward to the porthole. “I see your eyes gleaming, Scarlett. It’s not the same as a gold mine. You can’t make coins or jewelry out of phosphate. But, ground and washed and treated with certain chemicals, it makes the best quick-acting fertilizer in the world. There are customers waiting for as much of it as we can produce.”

“So you’re getting richer than ever.”

“Yes, I am. But, more to the point, this is respectable, Charleston money. I can spend as much of my ill-gotten, speculator profit as I like now without disapproval. Everyone can tell themselves that it comes from phosphates, even though the mine is puny in size.”

“Why don’t you make it bigger?”

“I don’t have to. It serves my purpose just as it is. I have a foreman who doesn’t cheat me much, a couple of dozen laborers who work almost as much as they loaf, and respectability. I can spend my time and money and sweat on what I care about, and right now, that’s restoring the gardens.”

Scarlett was annoyed almost past bearing. Wasn’t that just like Rhett to fall into a tub of butter? And to waste the chance? No matter how rich he was, he could stand to get richer. There was no such ouir and got a decent day’s work out of those men, he could triple the yield. With another couple of dozen laborers, he could double that . . .

“Forgive me for interrupting your empire building, Scarlett, but I have a serious question to ask you. What would it take to convince you that you should leave me in peace and go back to Atlanta?”

Scarlett gaped at him. She was genuinely astonished. He couldn’t possibly mean what he was saying, not after he had held her so tenderly last night. “You’re joking,” she accused.

“No, I am not. I’ve never been more serious in my life, and I want you to take me seriously. It has never been my habit to explain to anyone what I’m doing or what I’m thinking; nor do I have any real confidence that you will understand what I’m going to tell you. But I’m going to try.

“I am working harder than I’ve ever had to work in my life, Scarlett. I burned my bridges in Charleston so thoroughly and so publicly that the stench of the destruction is still in the nostrils of everyone in town. It’s immeasurably stronger than the worst Sherman could do, because I was one of their own, and I defied everything they built their lives on. Winning my way back into Charleston’s good graces is like climbing an ice-covered mountain in the dark. One slip, and I’m dead. So far I’ve been very cautious and very slow, and I’ve made some small headway. I can’t take the risk of your destroying all I’ve done. I want you to leave, and I’m asking your price.”

Scarlett laughed with relief. “Is that all? You can set your mind at rest if that’s what’s worrying you. Why, everybody in Charleston just loves me. I’m rushed off my feet with invitations to this and that, and not a day goes by that somebody doesn’t come up to me in the Market and ask my advice about her shopping.”