Page 13 of Eleanor’s Earrings

Eleanor was glad.

When Martha woke, she listened to Grace's breathing and pronounced the cough nearly gone. Moving her away from the damp corner had helped. Eleanor still assigned Lydia to walk beside Grace for the first mile, with orders to call Martha if the cough returned.

She was not glad that he had been right.

Outside, the eastern sky had begun to lighten. Eleanor checked the animals, stirred the coals, and put water on for coffee. By the time Caroline emerged, Eleanor had biscuits warming in a pan and bacon frying.

“You should have woken me,” Caroline said.

“You were tired.”

“So are you.”

“I am the eldest.”

“Does that prevent fatigue?”

“Yes.”

Caroline sat on an overturned bucket. “I look forward to turning twenty-nine.”

Eleanor ignored her.

Nathaniel rode through camp before breakfast was finished. He carried a small notebook and stopped at every wagon, inspecting wheels and yokes.

When he reached them, Eleanor handed him a biscuit.

“Is this another accidental extra?” he asked.

“Martha made them.”

“Then I will thank Martha.”

He did, which pleased Martha and annoyed Eleanor for reasons she could not explain.

Nathaniel checked both wagons. He tested the wheel pins, examined the harness, and studied the redistributed load.

“You moved the tools,” he said.

“I occasionally accept good advice.”

“I will record the date.”

“Do that.”

He looked at the second wagon. “You are ready.”

The simple approval warmed her more than it should have.

“We usually are,” she said.

“Usually?” Caroline asked.

Eleanor looked at her.

Caroline became interested in her breakfast.

The company moved out soon after sunrise. The road improved as the day warmed, though wheels still sank in shaded places. Nathaniel rode from front to rear, urging stragglers forward and slowing those who crowded the wagon ahead.