Page 126 of Eleanor’s Earrings

Rebecca collected wax and a small brush. “I will help with the seam.”

Daugherty brightened.

“For one labor credit.”

His face fell.

Eleanor smiled proudly. “She is learning commerce.”

Nathaniel said, “From you?”

“Obviously.”

Rebecca shook her head. “I learned to charge difficult customers from Father.”

Mrs. Bell tapped her stick. “Charge him two.”

Mr. Daugherty looked around the fire. “Does anyone here like me?”

Martha handed him a biscuit.

He looked at it.

“There,” she said. “One person.”

Lydia whispered, “Martha does not count. Martha likes everyone.”

Martha looked at her. “Not everyone.”

The entire fire went silent.

Mr. Daugherty slowly lowered the biscuit.

Martha smiled.

Eleanor stared at her sister.

Nathaniel whispered, “I remain afraid of the correct Whitaker.”

“So do I,” Eleanor whispered back.

Chapter Sixteen

April 16-17, 1854

Storm-Bound Camp

Rain fell through the night and continued the next morning.

Before the rain confined the train, Rebecca had tested the young ox for a second mile. The swelling was gone, and he placed the once-sore hoof squarely on the ground. She returned him to his usual position beside the steady ox but marked him for inspection at every halt. The lighter days had restored him; they would not waste that recovery by ignoring the old weakness. The sacks, tools, and Whitaker trunk carried by neighboring wagons would remain redistributed until the ox had completed several sound travel days.

Nathaniel ordered the wagons to remain where they were. The ground ahead had become soft enough to swallow wheels, and the creek beside camp was rising. No one liked the delay, but even Mr. Daugherty had stopped suggesting they move after sinking to his ankles in mud.

Eleanor used the morning to inspect supplies and fulfill the last of the work promises made when the Whitaker load was redistributed. She had just finished mending a child's torn coat when Lydia hurried toward her.

“The trader is back.”

Eleanor stood so quickly that her ribs protested. “The man with my earrings?”