Angela's Hope (Wildflowers)

by Banicki, Leah

  Ted thought it over and nodded.

  “I will gladly accept your help and prayer over this.” Ted frowned. “She begged him to stay home. Now they will have nothing. The farm payment was not up to date. She certainly will have lost it by the time I even get back. Both her and her sister are skilled at sewing and embroidery and they will be able to get by. But there is nothing good I have to write about besides the few friends I have made here. Otherwise I would consider this the worst place to be.” Ted was frustrated.

  “Let’s get you patched back up. We can work on your letter and get it aboard a ship headed back east soon. She will know and you will breathe and sleep easier for it. I promise Ted.” Clive helped Ted the next half block. Ted’s limp was getting more pronounced as the pain increased. Ted would have a few more down days again.

  Chapter 21

  Clive washed his hands outside the doctor’s office and took a moment to look up and down the dirty street. There was so much he despised about this place. He had never felt a place could be truly bad, only the people in it. The bay was lovely, and had it not been for the gold found last year at Sutter’s mill this town would still be the small port village, with a Christian mission a few miles away and Sacramento being a close enough neighbor to allow for more supplies if necessary.

  Once Ted was stitched back up they headed up the street. Ted said he was able to get around. “Just no more fights.” Ted laughed.

  Amber and Angela fussed over Ted once they heard about the fight and that he had to be re-stitched. Ted was put in the cushioned chair by the fire.

  Ted and Angela spent some quality time together that night talking. They were feeling very comfortable around each other and the stories flowed. Ted shared about his family back East and Angela shared a lot about her relationship to Corinne and some of the early good memories of her family.

  She read parts of the letter from Edith Sparks, he shared her joy in knowing a good man and woman were blessed with children who needed caring for.

  The time was well spent. The two felt closer by the end of the night. Angela was thankful that Ted was able to open up to her. His feelings about the day’s events with his uncle had bubbled out of him. She was so sad to hear about Ted’s father, and had her own feelings about the despicable nature of his uncle but she kept them to herself mostly. She just wanted Ted to know that she was listening and she cared.

  Angela was the one to sneak in a kiss before he left. Clive was waiting downstairs. Gabe and Amber seemed occupied with Silas so as Ted turned to make his way down the stairs Angela made her move. She knew it was forward but she was feeling affectionate and protective. He had been hurt and she wanted him to know she cared.

  “By the way, I loved your letter.” Angela said and took a step back. She knew that was what he needed to know, that his feelings were returned.

  The weeks that followed were good for them. Ted worked long hours but he took every chance he could to spend any amount of time he could with her.

  As his bank account grew he realized his time with her was growing shorter. His mother and sister would need him to come back. He knew what he wanted to do and he was praying that he was doing what God wanted him to do.

  * * * * *

  March 1850

  Angela felt a little silly, she had asked for time away and in the early morning Clive came by the mercantile to pick Angela up. The night before Clive had come to dinner and whispered in her ear that “The malted barley is in.” Her heart jumped in her chest but she tried not to show it.

  Her and Clive had a secret. It was a dear-hearted and delicious one.

  “I need to borrow Angela for the morning and afternoon, Gabe.” Clive announced nonchalantly after dinner the night before. Everyone seemed to take it easily with no curiosity. Clive and Angela did enjoy an easy friendship. Perhaps they all thought it was about more pamphlets or going outside the city to ask miners about Sean.

  Angela dressed in dark colors and her work shawl before she met up with Clive in the morning. Her heart raced with her secret and she enjoyed the feeling of being the tiniest bit sneaky.

  “Yer face is glowing, child.” Clive said with a grin. He was excited about their little project and had been working for months to get everything set up for today.

  “Yes, I am enjoying myself. I feel a bit like a naughty child sneaking in the cupboard for a cookie.” Angela gave Clive a daring wink and grabbed his arm as they started walking towards the outskirts of town.

  “We have all the legal papers and the warehouse we bought is on the outskirts. After today we will hire a few more employees to get things underway but it is a slow earning venture. We will have to wait three years for any good results.” Clive explained.

  “I understand, I am particularly skilled at waiting.” Angela felt the cool morning air on her cheeks and thought of the future. Where would she be in three years?

  It took them nearly an hour to get to the warehouse in the southern outskirts of town. The road could barely be called that. Mostly miners and wagons traveled the roads with supplies heading to southern parts of California territory. The Pacific Ocean was west and the warehouse was rather nondescript. Snug against a hilly and rocky terrain behind. A sign in front said “Warehouse C” with a “Q & F” underneath.

  “Q and F?” Angela asked as they near the front of the building.

  “Quackenbush and Fahey of course.” Clive gave her arm slight pinch and saw her blush.

  “I cannot believe we are actually going to do this.” Angela allowed herself to be escorted in and the light from the windows illuminated the operation.

  “Are you sure this is legal?” Angela gave Clive a nervous glance.

  Clive wordlessly escorted her to the sidewall where a framed paper hung on the wall. “We have a proper license for the distilling of liquor.”

  “Brian Murphy should be here anytime but I wanted to get a tour in before we got officially started.”

  “I can smell the barley already.” Angela closed her eyes and tried to imagine her grandfather with his own building. Probably a smaller operation, in a shabby barn or even hidden in the woods.

  “I discussed with Brian and he suggested we release an early version to whet people’s appetites for the whiskey but to also get the word out. The completed product would be smoother but the initial product would definitely have a kick. That is the part that is the least legal. Certain laws declared that the distillation process needs to go a certain way. But since we are not a part of the union and California is only a territory we have time to use the license and make up our own rules.” Clive explained as they walked.

  Angela enjoyed seeing the operation with the large wooden casks and the huge stills. The stacks of crates full of the secret ingredients, barley, rye, and a few other things that her grandfather had been famous for. Her mother’s journals spoke of people coming from miles and traders and merchants spending good money for a jug of his whiskey.

  “This seems outside my normal, but somehow doing this makes me feel connected to my roots, the journals are all I have left of my Irish roots. Everyone is dead but for Sean and even he is hidden from me. This feels like I am doing something.” Angela said as they finally sat on a bench by the front office. It was a sparse room with a large desk and a stack of papers on the top.

  Angela and Clive both perked up when they heard a door open and shut and the sound of footsteps nearby. A large man walked over to the office area and his smile broke open as he saw Clive.

  Angela took stock of the man Clive introduced as Brian Murphy. Large and burley with working man’s hands, Angela was drawn to him and enjoyed his easy banter with Clive. He would be the general manager. He would be the only one that would know the recipe outside of Clive and Angela. Clive offered him the job from a mill in Oregon. Clive had heard rumors about his managerial style, and how he used to get in trouble with the law in Ireland for smuggling illegal liquor into Britain for his family when he was barely in his teens. He knew the
ins and outs of a still, and how to be a hard worker and stay out of trouble once he moved to the United States.

  “Let’s get the ovens started. The first step is getting the Barley ready.” Mr. Murphy said and they all nodded, a bit excited to see how it would all begin.

  * * * * *

  The wet thud of flesh hitting flesh pulled Angela from her pleasant dreams. Once her mind was alert she could discern grunts and a few words spoken harshly. Some things need not be repeated, Angela thought after hearing some very colorful language. She sat up and felt her long braid pull against her neck, her long, thick hair was becoming a nuisance. She would have Amber trim a few inches off soon, the hair’s weight was giving her headaches again.

  She carefully eased across her bed to the window that faced the street. The thuds and grunting hadn’t stopped and she cautiously peeked over the edge of the window, she did not want to be seen looking. Gabe and Clive had both warned her plenty about not getting caught up in the dark activities of San Francisco, as the gangs were becoming a dangerous and a heavy reality that she had to face. She didn’t understand all the politics involved but she heard a lot of rumors. Certain people did not like other ethnicities being allowed within the city. Others wanted law and others a free space to govern themselves. There was a committee for dealing with fire control and others who disliked who was or wasn’t being hired for the fire brigade. It was tangled mire of angry men with little outlet besides violence and alcohol, and very little law to protect the rest of the folks just trying to survive.

  Angela never left the mercantile without accompaniment, ever.

  As she peeked over the windowsill the men below were in a group of about twenty men, it was hard to determine in the darkness with only a few lanterns and torches held by the men on the outside of the group. Angela saw many scruffy beards and dirty clothed men, three in the middle of the group seemed to be exacting some sort of punishment on one man who was on his knees. Angela was horrified to see the state of the beaten man, his face no longer a face but just a bloody mess. She pulled away from the window, her heart pounding, she had no thought but just to stop the beating. She ran in her nightclothes to Gabe and Amber’s door and knocked softly.

  “Gabe…” Angela whispered harshly.

  “I am awake. I will be out in a moment.” Gabe whispered back. Angela heard a bit of scuffling from the other side of the door.

  “The man outside, they might kill him.” Angela said savagely when Gabe appeared from his bedroom, haphazardly dressed, carrying a small wooden bat.

  “I just saw myself. I will see what I can do to disperse the crowd. I do not want to bring a riotous crowd on this place but I cannot abide a murder on my front stoop.” Gabe said and headed to the stairs. “Help me make noise and light. Perhaps they will be scared away if we open for business.”

  “Okay.” Angela could see what he wanted and followed him down the stairs. They both stomped and made each step exaggerated. Angela grabbed a handful of matches and began to light every light source available. Gabe went to clanging on the woodstove and was rewarded with a protest through the walls from young Silas.

  “It cannot be helped, perhaps he will help chase the men away.” Gabe said with a shrug.

  Angela tried to keep her attention on the task and not on the men outside but in a moment of weakness she glanced over her shoulder and saw some of the men dispersing from the area. The three men were still holding on to the one man but his arms were hanging limply at his side, it seemed the fight was gone from him. Angela said a prayer in her head for him as the fighter let his body fall to the ground. Two of the fighters fled, one stayed for just a moment and looked at Angela through the mercantile window, his face was dirty and one eye blackened, he met her gaze and his glare said volumes. Knowing she had been caught looking she snatched her gaze away in fear.

  “He saw me.” Angela stated flatly. Gabe walked over to her.

  “I saw that.” Gabe said slowly, his hand rested on Angela’s shoulder as she took a few deep breaths to calm her beating heart.

  “It probably means nothing, let’s go see if we can help that poor man.” Gabe headed to the front door, Angela stood in the doorway, almost afraid to go out on the street. It was still before dawn and without lanterns the street was black and menacing.

  “Get me a lantern please, I cannot see.” Gabe stated. Then another voice joined in with a groan. The sound of the beaten man brought Angela’s fear back to the forefront, she nervously ran inside and grabbed two lanterns and was at Gabe’s side in just under a minute.

  The beaten man was lying on his side. Gabe was whispering to him, asking him questions. He was answering in whispers.

  “Angela, go back inside and lock the mercantile doors. I will leave this man for just a minute to get the doctor as he is just two blocks away. I do not want you to come outside.” Gabe’s voice was firm. He watched as Angela obeyed his orders.

  She watched Gabe leave one lantern next to the man in the street and he took one with him as he began to walk up the streets toward the doctor’s residence. Angela prayed for him to be safe as that crowd of angry men were still out there. Angela just hoped that they would be far away now.

  Angela spent several minutes near the door watching and waiting, her mind fluttering with fearful thoughts about what she was doing here. Her doubts and hopes mingled inside her.

  Clive kept talking about how the city was in growing pains, to have so many show up in such a short amount of months would make any place a den of iniquity. It was interesting dinner discussion but so much more real when a man could be bleeding to death a few feet from her person. Would the men retaliate with Gabe’s business for interfering with their fight?

  Angela suddenly longed for the lavender fields at Grant’s grove, and the pretty back bedroom and the mountains nearby. The peace of Corinne’s home was suddenly very desirable. The politics of small town Oregon seemed so much less violent to the gritty, muddy city she now resided in.

  * * * * *

  Gabe was back with the doctor in a small wagon. Angela watched from the window as the doctor spent several minutes with his new patient, who was bleeding on the dirty, wet street. Angela could hear the man grunting with pain through the door, every sound that escaped him burrowed into her about the dangers of this city, making her question her choices again and again.

  Gabe and the doctor were joined by a neighbor who heard the commotion and together they lifted the wounded man into the wagon. Angela was so saddened by the entire event, tired and sad, a few tears escaped as the wagon pulled away. What had the man done to deserve that kind of punishment?

  Angela unlocked the door and Gabe walked in, a little damp from the early morning’s misty rain.

  “You can get some more sleep if you are wishin’ to.” Gabe asked quietly, she could tell he was listening for any noise from upstairs. There were no cries heard so it seemed that peace had settled back in the Quackenbush home.

  “No thank you Gabe, it is only an hour from dawn, I can unload some supplies that came in last night. I need something to think on, my head is in a whirl.”

  Chapter 22 – Corinne

  Willamette Valley Oregon

  Since the harvest of her lavender had been processed and she had a fresh supply of lavender, Corinne found herself in town more often. She spoke with the apothecary frequently and was working with Dr. Williams, when she was needed. She helped with a few birthings and also as an extra hand when his wife wasn’t enough. Corinne was beginning to feel like a part of the community and she was glad to be helping in whatever way she could. She was also excited when the apothecary came up with several ideas about oils that he had read about that were circulating in Europe.

  Corinne also had made an agreement of the local natives who were willing to work with her. They shared their ideas with her and Dolly, who both had worked hard at not only befriending them, but also sharing their knowledge and love of nature. They loved to see her drawings and several members of
the tribe would bring her samples of new things to try. She would pour through her journals and books and see if they had names in the botany books but sometimes would come to a loss. She would get busy with her drawing pencils and do her best to replicate them. Then, usually with some help from Clive if he was in town or his son J.Q., they would find a supplier or help her find the contact of a person specializing in the plants she didn’t know.

  The apothecary was beginning a list of requests for other oils that would be very helpful and easily procured from what was available nearby.

  “Pine oil is so good for breathing and circulation, you see.” He would explain.

  “I have heard many applications of pine tea and such but the oil would be very strong, perhaps too strong at full strength. It could burn the skin at the level you are suggesting.

  “Yes, but with clear instructions, one or two drops in a 1/4 of a carrier oil to be smeared on the chest could ease the discomfort of pneumonia, I read that a few drops in a foot bath can help increase circulation.”

  “I see your point. We would have to be very clear on its uses and perhaps only sell it under clear instructions to apothecaries and doctors.” Corinne stated, she leaned her head up against her hand. She was tired and her head ached.

  “More and more I feel the need to put all this knowledge in the hands of the people in an easier way to understand.” Corinne said with a tired voice.

  The apothecary agreed. Corinne headed home with a notepad full of notes and a head full of ideas.