The Winds of Tara is in no way affiliated with, authorised or endorsed by the Stephens Mitchell Trust. For more information visit www.thewindsoftara.com/unauthorised
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This special digital online preview version is restricted to Australian viewers only.
For more information and where to purchase this book, go to www.thewindsoftara.com
The Winds of Tara by Katherine Pinotti |
Special Preview Chapter One
Page 5
Chapter 1 Scarlett’s small fingers gripped the edge of the seat as the carriage jostled over ruts in the red-clay road at the turnoff that would take her home again, to Tara! Leaning back against the soft cushions, she closed her eyes and let the warm spring breeze float across her face. It had been a long time since she had made that turn under almost similar circumstances. Running her hand across the plush red-velvet seats, she couldn’t help but smile at the memory. Her mode of transportation then had been nothing more than a dilapidated old farm wagon pulled by a winded stolen horse that barely managed to get her to Tara. Tiny lines crinkled her forehead as more faded images of a time she would rather forget began to surface. She had not been alone in that old piece of wagon. Her young son, Wade, and Prissy, her simple-minded Negro servant had been with her. Melanie Wilkes had been stretched out at the back of the wagon on a rain-soaked mattress, half-dead from the difficult birth of her son just hours before they had fled the war-torn city of Atlanta. They had been running to the sanctity of Tara then as well, but only to escape capture when the Yankees invaded Georgia. Her adversary now thought he was more clever than a whole regiment of Lincoln’s finest! But he wasn’t hot on her heels. As much as she wished, her husband wouldn’t follow her to Tara even if his life depended on it! At least not for now. Hopefully, that may change soon... Alone, with only her thoughts for company, Scarlett’s eyelids began to droop, subdued by the hypnotic rhythm of the carriage. An image of her husband’s handsome face emerged. It was twisted in the usual mocking-smirk that always made her want to slap him! She forced the illusion to the back of her mind, determined not to think about him. She sat up straight, and gazed out over the Georgian countryside bursting with spring splendor. Gentle grass-covered slopes in the distance were dotted with pink and white morning-glories, and the roadside was blanketed with yellow sunflowers bowing their golden heads as the carriage rumbled past. Vines of sweet-smelling wisteria dangled through gnarled branches of towering elms making a shadowy canopy over the road, and freshly plowed red-earth fields lined the countryside as far as the eye could see. Almost home! Sunlight filtered through the brim of Scarlett’s new hat, resting on her back like a warm shawl. Yawning, she wiggled her toes in tight-leather shoes, acutely aware of the monotonous jingle of metal bits, musty horses, and the smell of For more information and where to purchase this book, go to www.thewindsoftara.com
The Winds of Tara by Katherine Pinotti |
Special Preview Chapter One
Page 6
sweaty leather. As pleasant as the journey had been up to this point, she was beginning to feel tired. Her back hurt and she was bored to tears. Old Tom skillfully guided his spirited horses over worn ruts in the clay road with only a tattered straw-hat to shelter his weathered face from the morning sun. Neither had hardly spoken a word since they left Atlanta. Scarlett caught him glancing back over his shoulder again and started to speak, but she choked on the words when he leaned over and spat a thick stream of tobacco juice into the ditch. “Be careful, you fool!” she shouted, scooting over toward the middle of the seat. “You want that filthy mess to get all over me? Never mind the carriage!” Tom slid his hand across his mouth, then wiped it on his shirt front as Scarlett watched in disgust. ”Sorry ma’am,” he called back, shifting his wad of tobacco to the other cheek. “Been holdin’ that ever since we passed McIver’s crossin’. Reckon the rest’ll keep ‘till we get where you’re goin’. If it ain’ too fer.” He clucked to the horses, “Don’t you worry none ‘bou’ gettin’ anythin’ on yore person, Miz Butler. I waited till the wind shifted!” “I’m sure you’re an expert,” she replied, smoothing out her rumpled bluetaffeta skirts. “Just the same, I’d prefer you didn’t do that again. At least not while I’m riding in this carriage.” Since he made no further reply, Scarlett was satisfied the old man had been duly reproached for his distasteful breach of gentlemanly etiquette and settled back to gaze over the fields, breathing in the heady scent of freshly-plowed earth. How she had missed the Georgian countryside! Before long, they passed a moss-covered yellow-rock waterfall that marked the start of the Tarletons’ land only a few miles from Tara. Scarlett’s apprehension mounted. She couldn’t help but think of Rhett again. After all, he was the main reason she was leaving Atlanta. Why did any thought of her husband rattle her so after all these weeks? Anger simmered beneath restrained resolve. How could he be so mean? It frustrated her to distraction that he wouldn’t even listen to anything she had said before storming off to Charleston. Nothing had made any difference, and she had practically begged him to take her with him. How would she ever convince him that she didn’t want Ashley Wilkes? Her narrow shoulders drooped. Well, that at least was understandable, she supposed, since she hadn’t realized it herself until Melly died! “None of this would have happened if Rhett had told me years ago that he really loved me,” she muttered, hitting the seat with a curled fist. “He never let on. He deliberately fooled me. It’s not all my fault!” Tears formed in her eyes and she blinked them back. Tears were useless now. Rhett would probably die thinking she never truly loved him. There had to be something she could do to make him see how wrong he was, she thought with a determined lift of the chin. Time was all she needed for now. Stately pines did little to hide the blaring sun and Scarlett’s shoulders were beginning to feel the heat. Remembering Mammy’s warnings since childhood, she popped open her parasol to shelter her fair skin from the searing rays as the For more information and where to purchase this book, go to www.thewindsoftara.com
The Winds of Tara by Katherine Pinotti |
Special Preview Chapter One
Page 7
coach rocked along the dusty road from one shady spot to another. Birds chirped in the trees and a mother duck with her new brood scurried under a rail fence as they passed. Unfamiliar motherly instincts surfaced and guilt pinched like a tight corset as her daughter Ella and her half-grown son Wade came to mind. Ella would be coming home soon, and she actually looked forward to her arrival this time. Her forehead wrinkled as she tried to recall the last time she had seen Wade. He had been away at school for months now. Would she even recognize him? Without warning, vivid images of another daughter, one no longer with them, flooded her mind like a raging storm. Crack! She heard the shot that rang out over the courtyard when Rhett killed Bonnie’s innocent pony because he couldn’t jump as high as the child wanted, having lifted the wooden rail in her innocence. She felt the pungent heat and smelled the hot tallow from the candles Rhett lit as he kept vigil, refusing to leave his precious baby girl alone for a minute, knowing how afraid she had always been of the dark. Then she felt the solemn clumpclump of dirt being shoveled onto their daughter’s small coffin. Moaning, she buried her face in her hands to squeeze out the cruel memories. Bonnie would have been nine next week. “Oh, Bonnie! Bonnie!” she sobbed, curling into a corner on the seat. “My precious, precious Bonnie!” Tom reined in the horses nearly throwing Scarlett to the floor of the carriage. Scrambling down from his leather perch, he hurried toward her. “Miz Butler,” he said, reaching to touch her shoulder. “Are you all right, ma’am?” Sniffling, she dabbed at her eyes with the corner of a lace hanky. “Yes. I’m fine, Tom. Thank you,” she replied, turning away to hide her tears. Tom shifted the wad of tobacco around in his mouth. “You sure you okay, ma’am?” Scarlett nodded, straightening her skirts, but keeping her head lowered from his curious stare. “You shore gimme a fright!” the old man said, his face clouded in worry. “Can I git you anythin’?” Scarlett shook her head, and he relaxed against the carriage. “You sure you alright, Miz Butler?” he said, anxiously, cocking his head to the side to get a better look. Scarlett peered at him through wet lashes and forced a smile, sorrow clinging to her face. “Yes, Tom. I believe I’m going to be just fine now.” Pressing her chest with one hand, she breathed deeply until she felt her heart slow. What a ridiculous thing for her to do! Why, she couldn’t remember the last time she had carried on like that. Just too many bad things happening so close together, she supposed. A body hardly had time to catch its breath between tragedies. Tom must be thinking that she has lost her mind. He glanced at her every few seconds and she noticed the swollen skin on the old man’s jaw. “Great balls of fire! Go on and spit, for heaven’s sake!” she said, pressing her hanky to her forehead. “Go, before I see you swallow the mess right in front of me!” Tom sprinted to the back of the carriage and emptied his mouth on the road. Wiping spittle on the sleeve of his red-checkered shirt, he squatted down to pretend to check the carriage wheels, keeping a watchful eye on his passenger. Lines of sweat tracked his aged face. “Sorry ‘bou’ that, ma’am,” he called out. “I For more information and where to purchase this book, go to www.thewindsoftara.com
The Winds of Tara by Katherine Pinotti |
Special Preview Chapter One
Page 8
forget you don’t care none for tobaccy chawin’.” “You’re mistaken,” Scarlett called back with a curt nod. “It’s not the chewing I mind. Can we go now, if you’re finished with whatever it is you’re doing?” “Yes, ma’am.” Tom slapped the dust from his hat and climbed back into the driver’s seat. “Guess we better be gettin’ on at that, ifen you’re up to it.” Scarlett sensed the old man’s embarrassment and felt instant shame for having spoken harshly when he had always been so kind to her. Leaning forward, she tapped the seat with her parasol, “Tom, wait!” He glanced back over his shoulder and she forced a smile, “Thank you for being so thoughtful. I’m fine now. Really. Besides, you know I don’t usually carry on like that and I… Well…I just wanted to thank you, is all.” “You jest let me know if you need me to stop again, Miz Butler,” he said, the lines on his face stretching into a grin. “We’ve come a fer piece since sun up. It’d put anybody on edge, I reckon.” With a nod, he smacked the horses to a quick trot, their hooves kicking up swirls of red dust as they jolted forward. The warm breeze felt good on Scarlett’s face, drying her tears to glistening dots. How foolish it was to let her emotions get the best of her. She slid her hand under the seat searching for her brandy flask, smiling when her fingers closed around the cool silver. Hiding the flask in her hanky, she drank deeply of the fiery liquid, welcoming the warmth seeping down her throat into the pit of her stomach. Better now, she decided to let her thoughts wander back to where her present troubles began, and Melanie Wilkes’ serene face surfaced, white and pale. Scarlett regretted having to go to her funeral, preferring to remember Melly when she was beautiful and full of life, instead of with that vulgar pink smile painted on her lips by the undertaker. Her friend’s death had been such a stupid waste. Scarlett simply would never be able to understand how anyone would want a baby that bad. What would she do now with Melly gone? Ever since she had married her brother Charles to spite Ashley, Melanie had considered them sisters. When he died of pneumonia soon after the War started, Melly had been the only one that understood how she felt, and hadn’t condemned her for not wanting to wear horrid-black gowns buttoned up to her chin, or stay home from gay parties just because she was supposed to be in mourning. Once despising the woman for preventing her from marrying Ashley, Melanie’s recent death had hurt her deeply, much more than anyone would ever suspect. Overcome with remorse again, Scarlett covered her face with her gloved hands, weeping, “Oh, Melly! Rhett always listened to you. Why did you have to go away?” She slammed the side of the carriage with her parasol, “Oh, why didn’t I listen to her? She knew him better than I did. Why didn’t I know I loved Rhett when it mattered?” Tom slowed the horses and Scarlett saw the look of concern on his face when he glanced back. Not wanting to give him cause for worry, she quickly wiped her nose and motioned him on with a wave of the hand, pushing the unpleasant For more information and where to purchase this book, go to www.thewindsoftara.com
The Winds of Tara by Katherine Pinotti |
Special Preview Chapter One
Page 9
thoughts to the back of her mind. There would be plenty of time to think about it tomorrow. Besides, Rhett did love her. Melly said he did, and Melly would eat mouldy bread before she would tell a lie. He would come back. She just had to figure out a way to make him want to…that’s all. Scarlett ran her hand over her blue-taffeta skirt and stifled a giggle. Melly would be the only person in the world who would have understood why she wasn’t wearing black. Aunt Pitty, and the other old self-righteous biddies in Atlanta, would have swooned if they had seen her leaving this morning. She didn’t care. Wearing nothing but itchy black broadcloth for months wasn’t fair, and she had no intentions of being forced into doing anything so distasteful. It wasn’t that she didn’t respect Melly, she just didn’t see any sense in walking around like a scare crow, when her dear friend wouldn’t have cared a fig what she wore. With a smile, she reached up and ran her fingers along the black feather plume adorning her blue-silk bonnet. That, and a bit of black ribbon, was the only bit of respect she needed to display, and that was only because it matched the buttons on her dress. Mourning would have been too hot to travel in, and there would be plenty of time for that after she got home. Mammy would pitch a fit if she dared to wear anything else at Tara. Soon the road leveled near a freshly whitewashed fence. Tom slowed the horses to a walk and pointed a bony finger, “Yonder where you’re wantin’ to go, ma’am?” As they rolled from under a canopy of trees, Tara unfolded before them in springtime splendor. “Yes! The entrance is just up there on the right,” Scarlett said, leaning over the edge of the carriage. “On the other side of that big cottonwood tree.” Scarlett ordered Tom to stop so she could view Tara from its best vantagepoint. The three-story plantation house stood proudly supported by four stately-white columns, nestled between ancient magnolias and towering pecan trees whose branches cast an inviting shade over the circular drive. Masses of thick-red azalea bushes lined the border of the house, and clusters of crepe-myrtle braced the corners. Not far away, stalks of pussy-willow crowded the banks of a pond graced with yellow water-lilies and white swans gliding silently along in the water. The sweet scent of magnolia lingered on the breeze, and rows of young cotton and tobacco sprouts lined the fields as far as they could see in either direction. “God Almighty! Damn near de purdyist place I eve’ seen!” Scarlett laughed, and Tom quickly pulled his hat down around his ears. Occupying himself with the horses, he mumbled an apology for his bad language. “Oh, don’t be silly! There’s nobody to hear you but me, and I don’t mind.” Her mouth stretched into an electric smile as her gaze swept the landscape, “Besides, it really is beautiful. Anybody would be a fool not to notice.” Not taking her eyes from the glorious sight, Scarlett rambled on like a magpie, “We call it Tara, after my father’s home in Ireland. You should have seen it after the War. Took a fortune to get it back like it was. Why, the only reason it’s still For more information and where to purchase this book, go to www.thewindsoftara.com
The Winds of Tara by Katherine Pinotti |
Special Preview Chapter One
Page 10
standing at all is because the Yankees used it for their headquarters. Isn’t it lovely now?” she said, finding it difficult to hide the excitement in her voice. “I can’t wait to get home. I’m so tired. And I know you must be. Mammy will get us something cool to drink. My throat is parched, and we could both use a good long rest. I’d forgotten how far it is from Atlanta.” “Was a fair piece, I reckon” Tom said, clucking to the horses to guide them through the gate. Scarlett poked him with the tip of her parasol, “Wait! Isn’t there something you want to do before we go any further?” Leaning way over the side of the carriage, he spat his wad of spent-tobacco in the ditch. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he glanced back with a smile. “Thank you, ma’am. I reckon I needed to do just that.” “Better here than in the driveway of Tara,” she said, snapping her parasol shut. As the carriage moved forward, she fluffed her skirts and pinched her cheeks, preparing for the cool reception she anticipated from her sister at her expected return.
The Winds of Tara by Katherine Pinotti |
Special Preview Chapter One
Page 11
For more information and where to purchase this book, go to www.thewindsoftara.com