Angie of the Garden

Chapter Twelve-2

"It's difficult for me to make a decision now," Angie told him. "I'm so concerned about Cassia."
"I know, but you're gonna have to decide real quick, Angie. Ed means to leave in three days. Like I said, it's a mighty unforgiving way to go. But we'll get there faster."
"I suppose seeing Tom sooner would be worth taking a more difficult route," she said to Jake. "I'll see you at supper. I'll have a firm decision by then."

Angie went back to the cabin where Cassia lay. The doctor was still administering opium to her friend. As a result no conversation passed between the two of them. Cassia would occasionally blurt out something, but it was obvious she thought herself to be in another place and time. Angie fretted over her, spending little time considering the path she would choose to reach her lover. She was fixing Cassia's hair when Wyatt came in.

"How's my wife?" he asked her.
"She seems comfortable. Did you get some sleep?"
"A little, but not much. Thanks for watching over her."
"I need no thanks. She's the best friend I've ever had."
"So you're going with Black?
"I think so. How did you know?"
"Crawford was mouthing off about it," Wyatt said with a grin. "He thinks a lot more of you than I thought he did. Silas is madder than hell because you're thinking of going another way. I guess you've convinced him that you're worth something since we left Missouri."
"It wouldn't take much for him to have raised his opinion of me," Angie replied with a laugh. "Mr. Crawford thought I was little more than worthless when we began."
"But he could be right about the shortcut,"

Wyatt said with a concerned expression on his face.

"I know. But as Jake said there isn't any easy way to reach California. And it will be worth the harder road if I see Tom even a little bit sooner."

After dinner Angie walked over to the stables. Ed Black was there with Jake Anderson and his friend Richard Knowles. There was also another man, whom Angie recognized instantly. She gave him a cold stare in greeting. The stranger answered with a very contrite expression of his own. This was the man who had tried to force himself upon Angie in Independence.

"This is Tim Nash," Black told them after making note of Angie's reaction to him. "He just arrived yesterday. Nash has decided to head for California instead of Oregon. He'd like to take the flats with us. Are there any objections?"

He looked at Angie when asking that question. Her bright green eyes had lost some of their intensity, yet still smoldered as she considered the newest member of their party.

"I lost my family on the trail," Nash explained in an almost pleading voice. "There's no reason for me to start a farm in Oregon now."

The sense of loss Ames was experiencing was plainly visible in his sorrowful eyes and defeated posture. Angie felt compassion stirring within her breast. Their encounter in Missouri seemed like it had occurred in another lifetime now, and in any case, the people traveling on the trail could not afford to waste the energy required to sustain their anger at a fellow immigrant. She would not deny this dejected soul a chance to start his life anew.

"I don't mind at all," she finally said in a casual manner.

She stayed by Cassia's side for every moment until the time came to leave Fort Bridger, even though the two women could not engage in any meaningful conversation. The doctor had continued to administer opium, and Cassia's speech was incoherent as a result. That circumstance changed on the day Angie had to say farewell. Wyatt had instructed the doctor to let his wife regain her senses if at all possible. The two friends were forever grateful for his thoughtfulness in that regard.

"Well, you can't use me as an excuse to avoid the trail anymore," Cassia told her with a weak smile. "I'm doing fine now."

Angie knelt beside the bed and smiled at her friend. The patient was still in a great deal of pain but forced herself to appear cheerful in order to convince Angie of her improving health. In spite of Cassia's efforts her dearest friend was not fooled. Angie still feared for the life of her confidante, though there was not even a hint of concern in her manner of saying goodbye.

"You could have helped me out, Cass," Angie replied with mock disappointment. "But you look so good I'll have to go now."
"Remember Ann Street?" Cassia asked her. "I never had as much fun as I did there. I probably won't ever have that much fun again. Tell Mr. Shanahan I said hello."
"I will. I'll see you in California, Cass."

Angie carefully embraced her, and then left the room. Angie left Fort Bridger with fear in her heart, as Cassia still looked too weak for her liking. She said a tearful goodbye to Wyatt before starting her journey to San Francisco.

The next morning five people set out from Fort Bridger on mules. Angie said a silent prayer for the friend she was leaving behind. The woman from Boston managed to hold back the tears which struggled to emerge from the corners of her eyes.

They saw the Great Salt Lake two days later. The plain they rode across consisted of bluish clay that exhibited a countless number of small ridges with a white saline substance on top. Angie was reminded of a snow covered mountain range in miniature. In between these were bands of sandy earth with an ashen shade. The mules often sank up to their knees in this fine powder.

"Shit, this is just about impossible!" Jake exclaimed later that day. He was frustrated from constantly having to coax his mule to move on. "Not only is it hot, but the damn animal can't go no more than three feet in an hour."

"It might be better if we traveled at night," Richard suggested. "At least it will be cooler."
"Yeah, it will be cooler, all right," Ed said with a sardonic grin.

After the sunset they rode for only a short distance before the meaning of Ed's remark became clear. The initial relief Angie and her companions had felt when the blazing orb sank below the horizon disappeared very quickly. The unbearable heat was now replaced by an intolerable cold. Everyone but Black was astonished by how quickly the temperature went from one extreme to the other.

"What in the hell kind of place is this?" Richard shouted to be heard above the wind that now assaulted them.
"I think you answered your own question," Jake shouted back.
"We'll travel for another hour or so and then make camp," Ed told them.

Jake was sure the bitter cold would be the death of him. He tried to embrace the mule as he rode in the hope of gleaning some heat from the beast of burden. Angie kept her head down, for every time she lifted it her eyes were blinded by tears. When they did finally stop for the night she could not set up her tent. The wind made that impossible: it also prevented the others from using their shelters. Ed built a fire with wood he had packed in his saddlebag. Starting the campfire was hard work, as was maintaining it. Tim took his bedroll off the mule, spreading it out on the ground near the flames. Jake and Richard lay down next to the wildly flickering source of precious warmth. Angie wrapped a blanket around her and then lay in between them.

"I hope you don't mind, gentleman," she said with shivering lips.
"Not at all," Richard replied. "This is why I came on this trip. Under normal circumstances, a beautiful young woman such as yourself wouldn't come near me."

Angie smiled at him, though the frozen muscles on her face made it difficult. Jake pushed up against her, and did feel somewhat warmer. Though still extremely cold, Angie's friend now believed he would see another dawn.

"Let's get moving," Ed cajoled them the next morning. "We still have a long ways to go before we're off the flats."
"I just managed to get to sleep," Jake complained.
"You can sleep on your mule. Just don't fall off, cause we're not turning back to get you. Eat fast and let's go."