Chapter Twenty-Four #2
“You’re welcome,” she whispered.
***
That afternoon, the sun hung high in the sky, casting a warm, golden light over the camp as the wagons creaked into motion.
Angela stood beside Rosie, helping to fold a tarp when Elias rode in from the trail, his expression triumphant.
“Found a spot,” he announced, his voice carrying over the sound of the wagons. “The river’s calm enough to cross up ahead.”
A murmur of relief swept through the camp, the tension of the past few days easing as people began to prepare for the journey.
Angela glanced toward the edge of the camp, where Silas’s wagon had sat, its absence like a dark shadow over the group.
She couldn’t help but feel a small pang of unease as she thought about him out there alone. But then she remembered his anger, his defiance, and the way he had betrayed them all.
It was as Minister Sam had said, right? This was the consequence of his choices.
As the wagons began to roll out, Angela climbed up beside James, her heart heavy but resolute.
A short while later, they arrived at the river. It stretched out before them, its surface churning with the force of the current. The muddy water was higher than it had been after the recent storm, its depths dark and unknowable.
Angela sat beside James on the wagon seat, her hands gripping the edge of the bench so tightly her knuckles had gone white.
The creaking of the wagons ahead mixed with the splashes of hooves and wheels entering the water. The pioneers’ voices called to one another, tense but determined as they coaxed their animals forward.
Angela’s chest tightened with every creak and groan of the wagon wheels. Each splash of the water seemed louder than it should have been, deafening against the hammering of her pulse in her ears.
“Stay close to the left bank!” Toby's voice called from the front of the line. “Watch for the deeper drop-offs!”
James gave a small nod of acknowledgment, his hands steady on the reins as he guided the horses forward.
But Angela couldn’t focus on his composure. All she could see was the river—its relentless flow, the way it swirled and foamed around the wheels of the wagons ahead of them.
The memory hit her like a slap. The cold grip of the water pulling her under, the way her lungs had burned as she fought to breathe, the desperate sound of James’s voice calling her name.
Her hands trembled as she gripped the bench harder, trying to ground herself, but the memories came faster, sharper.
The river seemed to shift before her eyes, its muddy swirls transforming into the chaotic, terrifying current she’d nearly drowned in just days before.
“Angela.”
James’s voice cut through her panic, low and steady. She turned to look at him, blinking against the blurring edge of her vision.
“Breathe,” he said, his eyes locked on hers.
“I…” She tried to respond, but her throat felt tight, her breaths shallow and quick.
“You’re safe,” he said firmly, his voice calm but commanding. “You’re with me.”
The wagon jolted as the wheels dipped into the river, sending a spray of cold water splashing up around them. Angela flinched, her grip tightening further.
“I can’t…” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the roar of the water.
James tugged gently on the reins to slow the horses, his gaze softening as he looked at her. “Close your eyes.”
“What?”
“Close your eyes,” he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ll get us across. You don’t need to watch. Just listen to me.”
Angela hesitated, her chest heaving as her fear wrestled with the quiet reassurance in his voice. Slowly, she let her eyes fall shut, her fingers still gripping the bench for dear life.
“Good,” James said, his voice lowering. “Now breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”
She tried to mimic the rhythm of his voice, drawing in a shaky breath and letting it out slowly.
“That’s it,” he said. The wagon creaked as the wheels moved deeper into the water. “I’ve got the reins, Angela. The horses know what they’re doing. You just focus on breathing.”
The water sloshed against the sides of the wagon, cold droplets splattering her hands and arms. Angela squeezed her eyes shut tighter, willing herself to trust him.
“Almost halfway,” James said, his tone calm and steady. “You’re doing fine.”
The sound of the current seemed to grow louder, the river’s icy grip brushing against her imagination. But James’s voice remained constant, a lifeline tethering her to the present.
“You’re safe,” he said again, the quiet confidence in his words cutting through her fear. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
The wagon rocked as the horses stumbled slightly on the uneven riverbed, and Angela’s breath hitched.
“I’ve got it,” James said quickly, pulling the reins just enough to steady them. “We’re fine.”
She nodded, though her eyes remained shut.
Slowly, the creaking of the wagon and the splashing of the water began to feel less overwhelming. The sound of James’s voice filled the space, anchoring her.
“And… we’re through,” he said finally, a faint note of relief in his tone.
Angela’s eyes fluttered open, her heart still racing as she looked around. The wagon had reached the far bank, the horses pulling it onto solid ground. The air felt cooler here, the breeze brushing against her damp hands and face.
She turned to James, who was watching her carefully. For the first time since the river crossing had begun, she noticed the faint sheen of sweat on his brow, the way his grip on the reins was just a touch tighter than usual.
But then he smiled—gentle, reassuring—and Angela’s breath caught.
“You did good,” he said softly.
Her chest tightened, but this time, it wasn’t fear. Her heart seemed to stutter in her chest, her pulse quickening for an entirely different reason.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
James nodded, his smile lingering just a moment longer before he turned back to the trail ahead.