Sable Wings: Ian and Anne

Here are more letters between Ian and Anne.

 

 

Dearest Anne,

I am sorry you are bored. By all means go to New York for a visit if you want. But our son must be born at the manse, that is very important to me. I am rather disappointed you don’t like either Doc Morton or Doctor Mayhew. He grew up in town, you know, and is very well liked. I don’t understand how being short or ugly will affect his medical ability. I forbid you to bring back a New York doctor; that is too frivolous. What would our neighbors think? They didn’t like that I married a foreigner as it is. You mustn’t alienate them any more than you already have.

I am glad William is helping. Don’t let him bring his daughter again. I don’t like his presumption that you will look after the child while he is working. Tell him to leave her at home. His shiftless wife should be taking care of the child, not you. If he can’t leave her at home, then find someone else to do the work. There are plenty in town who would be happy to earn some money.

We haven’t moved from here in a day or so. There is dysentery in camp and the men are too sick to keep going. I think we may be here for another week. We aren’t in a hurry to  get to New Echota as there is already a good contingent there. Besides, if we are late getting there, all the hard work of building the stockades will be done by the time we arrive. All we will have to do is round up the savages and get them on their way.

We haven’t moved very far from the pool I told you about in my previous letter so I sometimes go there for a while. I feel somehow drawn there but couldn’t tell you why. And I have begun to have strange dreams populated with little people who are fair to look at but seem troubled. I think it must be this place that is bewitched. I think we may move from here soon even if all the man are not fit to travel. I’m afraid that if we stay here we will never leave. I know this sounds strange, and I am not a superstitious man, but there is just something about this place – it is cursed.

I probably shouldn’t be telling you such fanciful tales! I don’t want to upset you and perhaps harm the little one. So ignore my imagination.

I hope you are taking care of yourself. Summer is in full bloom here as I am sure it is there at home. Remember to keep the windows and drapes closed. I don’t want you catching something that would harm you or the babe.

Affectionately yours,

Ian

 

My darling,

I will have the doctor from New York! At least I know him. I don’t want some forgetful old fool who will fall asleep over the fire or some squat and ugly idiot who will scare the child to death the minute he is born. Please don’t fight me on this, Ian. Don’t upset me like this for that will harm the babe much more than telling me about your silly dreams and superstitions.

It is so hot here today. The air is oppressive and heavy. I think we will have storms before the day is out. There was a strong wind yesterday that blew the roof off the Rochester’s barn. Fortunately, no one was hurt and all the horses, although spooked, have settled down now. The new roof is already up thanks to everyone pitching in.

I finally had a visitor today, albeit a strange one. Mrs. Franklin came for a short visit during my calling hours. I am glad someone finally came; I was getting tired of sitting there all dressed up for nothing. Anyway, Mrs. Franklin had some sort of fit while she was here. Her eyes closed and a very strange voice started saying something in a language I couldn’t understand. It only lasted about a minute. I, of course, rang the bell straightaway for Addie. But she was no use. She came in, took one look at Mrs. Franklin, and ran screaming from the room. Idiot girl! Mrs. Franklin’s footman was flirting with Cook in the kitchen, so I made him come get her and take her home. She sent me a note today apologizing for her strange behaviour. If I wasn’t so bored, I would probably not receive her again, but she did liven up the afternoon. I can’t wait to see what happens next time.

I refuse to sit in the house all closed up. I believe sunshine is good for us. And I love to hear the birds singing through the open windows. Of course, there is a lot of dust blowing in, but the servants will deal with that.

Please take care of yourself, Ian. I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.

Anne

 

My dearest Anne,

We have moved camp to another place closer to New Echota. We couldn’t travel very far because of the sick among us, who are rapidly improving once we left that accursed place. Then two men were wounded when a gang set upon them as they were gathering wood. They are both unconscious at the moment so I haven’t been able to question them about what happened. A search party I sent out found nothing, so I think they fought each other and made up the story about being attacked. They stumbled into camp mumbling incoherently about little people, and knives, and being jumped on then fell unconscious. Their injuries aren’t serious so I am concerned about what has happened to them. I have doubled the guard and given orders that no one is to leave camp in groups of less than six and they must be well armed.

I think one more day will see us in New Echota. I am anxious to have something to do, finally, as these weeks of marching and camping are taking a toll on the men. They are beginning to grumble amongst themselves and complaining about everything. I don’t know what has gotten into them.

I hope you are taking care of yourself. I don’t know Mrs. Franklin very well, she only came to town last year. There were some rumors that she had Indian blood and was descended from some shaman or something. I would prefer that she not visit you again. Her reputation is tarnished with stories of strange comings and goings at her house, so please do not associate with her lest your reputation also be harmed. The mother of my child cannot afford to be tarred with the same brush as the town crazy person.

Affectionately,

Ian