Angie of the Garden

Chapter Eight-4

After the wagons stopped for the night Angie began to make a batch of Johny Cakes. This popular fare was made from milk, corn meal and flour. Just as she was about to place her concoction on the fire a swarm of hungry insects arrived. Though Angie shooed many of them away, an even greater number landed in the batter. The woman who had set out from Boston two months before would have never tolerated such conditions while preparing food. Yet the now hardened traveler ignored this unintended ingredient and placed the cakes over the fire without hesitation. One of Crawford's men happened by at that moment, giving her a look of approval.

"You do what you've gotta do," he remarked before walking on.

After finishing her chore Angie went to her tent. She was repairing a tear in the sleeve of her dress when Cassia interrupted her. Her friend gratefully accepted the whiskey Angie offered to her.

"I've done my share, right?" Cassia asked her.
"You certainly have. Did someone say otherwise?"
"And I haven't been complaining. Well, not that much anyway. I just mean I haven't been worse than anyone else, right?"
"You've been fine, my dear friend. What's the matter, Cass?"
"I've just been feeling a little different since we saw the Devil's Gate. Like I've got something coming after me, you know? So if anything happens, I just want you to remember how I was."

A concerned expression came over Angie's face as she embraced her friend.

"You're just tired, Cass. We're all feeling the same way. Jake told me that we've traveled over 900 miles since leaving Independence. Things will look a lot brighter in the morning."
"Good night," Cassia responded. She left without concurring.

Angie found it difficult to sleep after their conversation so she joined the men and woman who were dancing to the music of the bow. The stars above them shone with an intensity she would remember for the rest of her life. Angie did not return to her tent until late that night.

"We are truly in the hands of God," she said aloud before finally falling asleep.

The next morning Silas Crawford spotted several Indians on the trail some distance ahead of the party. He ordered the wagons to halt. Ted Sanders rode up beside him and questioned whether the delay was justified.

"There's not very many of them," he observed. "They won't have much to trade with."
"It seems that way to me, too. But you can't always go by what you see. I'm going to talk with them."
"I'll be right next to you, boss."
"No. I want you here to lead the wagons, just in case those bastards are up to something."

Silas carefully approached the Indians. He quickly satisfied himself that they had no untoward intentions. They were hunters, with an ample supply of freshly killed buffalo. He traded some cloth for several pieces of fresh meat. As a result the two cattle the settlers had with them were spared. Silas had intended to butcher the animals that evening, but it would not be necessary now.

The Crawford party continued on. They were little more than a half days journey from Fort Bridger when darkness fell. The settlers put their hardships aside for the evening to enjoy a hearty meal. The fiddle players began to play and their vibrant music inspired the people to dance with more enthusiasm then should have been possible at the end of a hard day. Cassia squealed with laughter as Wyatt twirled her around. A lace on one of her shoes was broken in the process.

"That's what I get for acting like a school girl," she said with a laugh. "I'll fix this and be back directly."

She walked to their wagon.

A lookout stood guard over the animals. He was envious of the laughter that was coming from the center of the wagons. Yet his job was too important to allow it to be a distraction. Suddenly a pair of glowing eyes became visible in the night. A wolf had taken notice of the cattle and oxen. The lookout carefully walked around the perimeter of the wagons. He saw the predator in silhouette against the rising moon. The man fired his gun.

The wolf fled, while the rest of the animals nervously bellowed. One of the cattle, however, was sent into a panic by the sound of the rifle being discharged. Stampeding through the settlers, it barely missed several of them. Cassia had just reached the wagon when the rampaging bull ran by. The frightened animal made contact with her hip, slamming the petite woman into the side of the schooner. She screamed in pain, which momentarily froze her companions. The music stopped as her anguished cries tore through the night.
Angie was the first to reach her. Cassia's left arm was hideous to behold, the shattered bone having broken through the skin. Angie Barton felt nauseous, but could not let her friend see that. She fought off the urge to vomit.

"It's broken, Cass. But we'll get it fixed for you," she calmly said.

Wyatt fought his way through the crowd then knelt down beside his wife. He was not as adept at hiding his repulsion as Angie was, but it no longer mattered. Cassia took no notice of those around her now. The pain was too excruciating. She let out a hideous wail when the settlers carried her into the wagon. Donald Fletcher, who was the only settler who had any medical experience to speak of, examined Cassia. He spoke with Wyatt outside the wagon afterwards. Angie stood by them.

"It's bad," he told them. "I've given her some opium for the pain. In a while I'll clean it up as best I can. I learned doctoring from my pa on our farm. I ain't never gone to school for it. There might be someone at Bridger who's a real doctor. But I do know that if it gets infected..."

He did not have to finish his sentence. Angie and Wyatt knew that an infection would most likely result in the death of Cassia.

"I'll give her a Sappington pill, just in case she gets a fever. I'll do the best I can." "We know you will," Wyatt said softly.

Angie looked at Hollis with a pained expression on her face. The torment she was feeling was to a greater degree than Hollis had ever witnessed in any of his other patients. "Did Cassia live?" he asked her.

"I don't know," Angie said while bowing her head. "I left soon after she was hurt."
"But can't you see her now?"
"I can't go where she is, or where the children are. I am not fit to stand in their presence, or his presence."

Angie turned and floated towards the back of the garden.

"Don't leave. I can help you."

His words fell on deaf ears. After the now familiar flash of brilliant white light, Angie faded into the night. Hollis waited for several moments before going inside. Olivia was still awake.

"That was a very long walk," she said suspiciously. "What on earth were you doing?"
"Just organizing my thoughts," he replied. "I lost track of the time."
"You should start carrying your cell phone with you constantly," she suggested. "That way I can keep track of the time for you."
"You're too kind, my love."

Hollis kissed Olivia, suddenly becoming aroused by the shapely woman in the light blue chemise. He exposed her breasts and manipulated them with an unrestrained fervor. As Hollis entered her he suddenly thought of the woman who had challenged the plains. As a psychiatrist Doctor Simms knew all about the psychological phenomenon of transference. Hollis tried to tell himself this was not the case, yet he could not drive the image of Angie from his mind. Even as he satisfied his wife, Simms wondered if his passionate thrusts were really intended for Angelica Barton. This was the guiltiest pleasure Hollis Simms had ever experienced.

For her part Olivia sensed the turmoil within her husband. At first she found it to be an unwelcome distraction, but soon discovered that the movements of a conflicted lover could be both unpredictable and extremely satisfying. She thoroughly enjoyed making love with the stranger in her bed.

As his wife enjoyed a contented slumber, Doctor Simms lay awake for the rest of the night. Hollis felt as though he had betrayed Olivia. He managed to extradite himself from this emotional morass by focusing on Angie Barton as his patient instead of as his first love.
Angie knows she's dead, he thought to himself. She just can't face the children or Cassia. Or him, for that matter, with him being Tom Shanahan, I would assume. But why? Something must have happened between the Devil's Gate and San Francisco to traumatize Angie.

Hollis intended to find out what it was.