Chapter Twenty-Five
The trail stretched out before them, a winding ribbon of dirt and grass that disappeared into the horizon. James held the reins loosely, his focus on the team of horses, though his thoughts were elsewhere.
Beside him, Angela sat stiffly, her hands folded tightly in her lap, her gaze fixed firmly ahead. She hadn’t said much since the river crossing, and James could feel the tension radiating from her like a taut rope ready to snap.
He stole a glance at her, his eyes lingering for just a moment. She looked calm, composed—but James knew better.
She was avoiding him.
Her usual warmth, her easy chatter, was gone, replaced by a cool distance that James couldn’t ignore. He turned his attention back to the trail ahead, gripping the reins a little tighter, his jaw clenched. He didn’t blame her for being quiet—not after what had happened.
James’s gaze flickered to the river in his mind’s eye, its dark, rushing waters swallowing them whole as they fought to cross.
He hadn’t let himself think about it too much at the time—he couldn’t afford to—but now, the memory came rushing back.
Angela’s face, pale with fear, her hands clutching the edge of the wagon for dear life.
He remembered how she’d flinched at every ripple, every splash, her breaths shallow and quick as if the water was dragging her under all over again.
He’d spoken softly to her then, guiding her through it, telling her to close her eyes and trust him. And she had—she’d trusted him. Even in the chaos, she’d held on to his words.
But now, here she was, so close yet so distant. The realization settled like a heavy stone in his chest. The river hadn’t just been hard on her body—it had torn open a wound he hadn’t fully understood until now.
He gritted his teeth, his hands tightening on the reins as he tried to push down the frustration bubbling inside him.
It was probably for the best, he told himself. He’d already let things go too far—first with the kiss, then last night by the fire. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way, wasn’t supposed to let himself care. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t help it.
James’s chest tightened as he thought back to the kiss. It had been impulsive, reckless even, but in that moment, he hadn’t been able to stop himself. And the way Angela had looked at him afterward, her eyes wide with a mix of surprise and something deeper, had stayed with him.
He let out a sharp breath, shifting in his seat as the wagon jostled over a rut in the trail. She didn’t mean anything to him, he reminded himself. Not in the way Clara had.
But even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew it wasn’t true. Angela wasn’t like anyone else he’d ever known. She was strong, stubborn, and unflinchingly kind, even when life gave her every reason not to be.
And somewhere along the way, she’d become important to him.
“Watch out for that dip,” Angela said suddenly, her voice cutting through his thoughts.
James blinked, his attention snapping back to the trail. He guided the horses around the dip she’d pointed out, the wagon creaking as it shifted.
“Thanks,” he muttered.
Angela nodded but didn’t say anything more.
The silence stretched on, thick and uncomfortable. James cleared his throat, debating whether to say something, but every time he opened his mouth, the words caught in his throat. What could he even say?
Sorry for kissing you? Sorry for caring too much?
He stole another glance at her, his jaw tightening as he caught the faintest flicker of emotion in her expression—something vulnerable, hesitant. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by the same guarded look she’d worn all morning.
He didn’t know what to do with these feelings, didn’t know how to bridge the distance between them without making things worse.
The trail ahead seemed endless, the horizon blurring in the heat of the afternoon sun. James focused on the horses, on the rhythm of their hooves against the dirt, trying to find some measure of calm.
But his thoughts kept circling back to Angela, to the way she made him feel—like he was coming alive again after years of shutting himself off from the world.
And it scared him.
Because caring for someone meant risking pain. And pain was something James had sworn he wouldn’t let himself feel again.
Angela shifted beside him, her hand brushing against her skirt as she adjusted her position. The small movement drew his attention, and for a moment, he thought about reaching out, about breaking the silence between them.
But then she glanced at him, her eyes wary, and he stayed where he was.
The ride continued, strained and quiet, both of them lost in their own thoughts as the wagon creaked and groaned beneath them. The distance between them felt wider than the open prairie, and James couldn’t shake the feeling that he was losing something he hadn’t even fully allowed himself to have.
***
The midday sun bore down on the camp as wagons creaked to a halt, and the group began to unpack for lunch. The sound of laughter and clinking pots filled the air, but James wasn’t paying attention to any of it.
His eyes followed Angela, who was walking a short distance away with Elias. The two of them were deep in conversation, Angela’s smile soft and genuine as Elias said something that made her laugh.
James felt a pang in his chest—a sharp, unexpected twist of jealousy he had no right to feel. His jaw tightened, his hands balling into fists at his sides as he watched them. Elias leaned in slightly, his boyish grin bright in the sunlight, and something inside James snapped.
Before he could think better of it, he was walking toward them, his boots crunching over the dry grass.
“Angela,” he said, his tone sharper than he intended.
She turned, her brows furrowing slightly as she met his gaze. “Yes?”
“Can I have a word?” he asked, his voice clipped.
Elias glanced between them, his expression uncertain. “I’ll, uh… I’ll catch up with you later,” he said, taking a step back.
Angela watched Elias go before turning back to James, her frown deepening. “What is it?”
James hesitated, his gaze flicking to where Elias had walked off before landing back on her. “What’s going on with him?”
Angela blinked, clearly taken aback. “With Elias?”
“Yes, with Elias,” James said, his voice lowering. “You are always together.”
Angela’s expression shifted, her brows drawing together. “We’re friends, James.”
“Is that all?” he pressed, his chest tightening as he fought to keep his emotions in check.
Angela’s frown deepened, her tone hardening. “It’s none of your business.”
She turned to walk away, but James reached out and caught her hand.
“Don’t,” she said sharply, her voice trembling slightly. “Let me go.”
He didn’t.
His grip was firm but gentle, his eyes searching hers as he struggled to find the words for the storm of emotions raging inside him.
“Why do you care?” she demanded, her voice rising slightly.
“Because I do,” James said, his voice quiet but intense.
Angela shook her head, trying to pull her hand free, but he held on. “I can’t do this, James,” she said, her voice breaking slightly.
“Why?” he asked, his chest tightening. “Why not?”
She hesitated, her gaze dropping to the ground as if the weight of his question was too much to bear. Finally, she looked up, her eyes glassy with unshed tears.
“Because I’ve already lost too much,” she whispered.
James frowned, his grip loosening slightly. “What do you mean?”
Angela let out a shaky breath, her hands trembling as she pulled away from him. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if trying to hold herself together.
“My parents died,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “And my little brother. I was the only one who made it out alive. It was a fire, and… it happened so fast. One minute, we were safe, and the next…”
She trailed off, her voice cracking. James stared at her, stunned. He’d had no idea.
“I’ve spent every day since then wondering why I survived and they didn’t,” she continued, her voice thick with emotion. “I thought I’d lost my faith. I thought I’d lost everything. And now…”
She paused, shaking her head.
“Now I can’t get close to anyone again. Not when I could lose them. Not when I could lose…”
Her voice trailed off, and he reached for her instinctively, his hands resting lightly on her arms.
“Angela,” he said softly, his voice rough with emotion.
She shook her head, her eyes shining with tears.
“I can’t, James. I am sorry, I just can’t—”
“You’re not the only one who’s afraid,” James interjected, his hands tightening slightly on her arms.
She stilled, her eyes searching his.
“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice trembling.
James hesitated, his jaw working as he tried to force the words out. He hadn’t planned to tell her, hadn’t planned to let anyone in. But looking at her now, so vulnerable and raw, he knew he couldn’t hold back.