Gone with the Wind

Will did not speak at first and Scarlett was grateful. He threw his battered straw hat into the back of the wagon, clucked to the horse and they moved off. Will was just the same, lank and gangling, pink of hair, mild of eye, patient as a draft animal.

They left the village behind and turned into the red road to Tara. A faint pink still lingered about the edges of the sky and fat feathery clouds were tinged with gold and palest green. The stillness of the country twilight came down about them as calming as a prayer. How had she ever borne it, she thought, away for all these months, away from the fresh smell of country air, the plowed earth and the sweetness of summer nights? The moist red earth smelled so good, so familiar, so friendly, she wanted to get out and scoop up a handful. The honeysuckle which draped the gullied red sides of the road in tangled greenery was piercingly fragrant as always after rain, the sweetest perfume in the world. Above their heads a flock of chimney swallows whirled suddenly on swift wings and now and then a rabbit scurried startled across the road, his white tail bobbing like an eiderdown powder puff. She saw with pleasure that the cotton stood well, as they passed between plowed fields where the green bushes reared themselves sturdily out of the red earth. How beautiful all this was! The soft gray mist in the swampy bottoms, the red earth and growing cotton, the sloping fields with curving green rows and the black pines rising behind everything like sable walls. How had she ever stayed in Atlanta so long?

“Scarlett, before I tell you about Mr. O’Hara-and I want to tell you everything before you get home-I want to ask your opinion on a matter. I figger you’re the head of the house now.”

“What is it, Will?”

He turned his mild sober gaze on her for a moment.

“I just wanted your approval to my marryin’ Suellen.”

Scarlett clutched the seat, so surprised that she almost fell backwards. Marry Suellen! She’d never thought of anybody marrying Suellen since she had taken Frank Kennedy from her. Who would have Suellen?

“Goodness, Will!”

“Then I take it you don’t mind?”

“Mind? No, but-Why, Will, you’ve taken my breath away! You marry Suellen? Will, I always thought you were sweet on Carreen.”

Will kept his eyes on the horse and flapped the reins. His profile did not change but she thought he sighed slightly.

“Maybe I was,” he said.

“Well, won’t she have you?”

“I never asked her.”

“Oh, Will, you’re a fool. Ask her. She’s worth two of Suellen!”

“Scarlett, you don’t know a lot of things that’s been going on at Tara. You ain’t favored us with much of your attention these last months.”

“I haven’t, haven’t I?” she flared. “What do you suppose I’ve been doing in Atlanta? Riding around in a coach and four and going to balls? Haven’t I sent you money every month? Haven’t I paid the taxes and fixed the roof and bought the new plow and the mules? Haven’t-”

“Now, don’t fly off the handle and get your Irish up,” he interrupted imperturbably. “If anybody knows what you’ve done, I do, and it’s been two men’s work.”

Slightly mollified, she questioned, “Well then, what do you mean?”

“Well, you’ve kept the roof over us and food in the pantry and I ain’t denyin’ that, but you ain’t given much thought to what’s been goin’ on in anybody’s head here at Tara. I ain’t blamin’ you, Scarlett. That’s just your way. You warn’t never very much interested in what was in folks’ heads. But what I’m tryin’ to tell you is that I didn’t never ask Miss Carreen because I knew it wouldn’t be no use. She’s been like a little sister to me and I guess she talks to me plainer than to anybody in the world. But she never got over that dead boy and she never will. And I might as well tell you now she’s aimin’ to go in a convent over to Charleston.”

“Are you joking?”

“Well, I knew it would take you back and I just want to ask you, Scarlett, don’t you argue with her about it or scold her or laugh at her. Let her go. It’s all she wants now. Her heart’s broken.”

“But God’s nightgown! Lots of people’s hearts have been broken and they didn’t run off to convents. Look at me. I lost a husband.”

“But your heart warn’t broken,” Will said calmly and, picking up a straw from the bottom of the wagon, he put it in his mouth and chewed slowly. That remark took the wind out of her. As always when she heard the truth spoken, no matter how unpalatable it was, basic honesty forced her to acknowledge it as truth. She was silent a moment, trying to accustom herself to the idea of Carreen as a nun.

“Promise you won’t fuss at her.”

“Oh, well, I promise,” and then she looked at him with a new understanding and some amazement. Will had loved Carreen, loved her now enough to take her part and make her retreat easy. And yet he wanted to marry Suellen.

“Well, what’s all this about Suellen? You don’t care for her, do you?”