Written In Stone

can do…"
    "I'll let you know." Gavin assured her with a smile and took his leave.

Chapter Six
Like Teaching a Fish To Walk
     
    "Angie?" Mrs. Waterston knocked gently and pushed open the bedroom door. "Are you all right, dear?"
    Angie sniffled and quickly wiped her eyes. "Of course I am," she said quietly.
    "I have never seen you like that, Angela. Rudeness is just not in your nature and especially not to a guest in your home."
    "I know, I know." She gestured with her hands, at a loss for words.
    "Mr. Stone invited you to a wonderful party. The least you could have done was tell him you would stop by for a short while. I happen to know you have no plans at all for Friday night, or any other night for that matter."
    "I just can't tolerate being at parties where everyone is happy and dancing, and all I can do is sit there and watch, especially this one."
    "What especially is it about this one that bothers you so much?"
    "Invited to a party by a man I cannot even dance with, to be forced to sit and watch him twirl other women across the floor? I just couldn't bear it, Mrs. Waterston."
    "I doubt Mr. Stone invited you to simply watch him dance with other women. I think that man wants to court you!"
    Angie nearly choked. "Why on earth would he want to court me? I can't dance, and I know I couldn't walk down the aisle to marry anyone. What would be the point of courting a cripple?"
    "Now you are making me angry, young lady." Mrs. Waterston had her fists set on her ample hips, looking hard at Angela. "I know it has been rough for you the past two years, and I know you have shed more tears than anyone should have to. You have had to change your whole way of living, but the one thing you have never done is call yourself a cripple, or put yourself down as being as worthless as a lame mare. I won't hear any more of it." With that, she turned and stalked out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind her.
    Angela stared after her for a long time before bursting into tears, once again. How many times had she cried hot, angry tears? How many times had she asked God to give her wisdom so she would know what to do with her life? How many times had she begged to die right along with her husband and child? How many more years would she have to bear the pain in her heart? How many times had her requests gone unanswered by a God she wasn't even sure heard her prayers at all anymore?
    Angie cried until she had no more tears to cry, then wrapped her arms around a pillow and held it close. She thought of Jonathan. She thought of the baby girl born too early as a result of the accident, and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to will the thoughts away. But they refused to go. How could one foolish moment end so tragically and with such long-lasting and far-reaching effects? The terrible memory played out in her mind…
     
    It had been a beautiful fall day when she decided she wanted to take a carriage ride and see the brilliant shades of crimson and gold of the fall foliage. Jonathan was laughing as he hitched the horses to the carriage. He then helped Angie up on the seat then climbed up beside her. She was nearly six months into the pregnancy; the weather was so beautiful and there was plenty of time before the baby so that she might enjoy being outdoors. The horses trotted along, the breeze causing Angela's hair to fly behind her and whip around her face. She was laughing at something Jonathan said, and Jonathan placed one of his arms around her shoulders, pulling her to him. He kissed her cheek, and she felt warm and secure in his arms.
    "Faster, Jonathan." Angela encouraged him.
    "I don't think we should, Ang. All that bouncing might not be good for the baby," he cautioned.
    "The baby is fine. I am fine," she assured him gleefully. "I haven't been able to ride my mare in months now. I just want to feel the wind on my face and the speed of the horses. Please? For just a little way?"
    Jonathan sighed. He could never resist her. "All right," he conceded, "but just a short way. I'm not taking any chances with you or our child."
    "Oh, thank you, Jonathan," she laughed delightedly. Then without thinking, or any warning, Angie snatched the reins from his hands and slapped them to the horse's rumps. As they lurched forward and began to gallop, the rush of the wind carried Angie's laughter and Jonathan sat back, looking at her face and obviously thinking he was the luckiest man alive.
    Just as they rounded a curve, Angie and Jonathan both saw