Page 132 of Eleanor’s Earrings

Nathaniel put down his cards. “I have led wagon trains through mountain passes.”

Caroline nodded sympathetically. “And yet here you are.”

“I served in the Army.”

Martha handed him coffee. “Drink.”

Nathaniel accepted it.

Eleanor smiled. “Overwhelmed?”

“Completely.”

“You could leave.”

He looked at her. “Would you come?”

Seven sisters made identical sounds of outrage.

Eleanor laughed. “Absolutely not.”

“Then I remain.”

Lydia gathered the cards. “Another game?”

“No,” everyone said.

She sighed. “No one values innovation.”

Chapter Seventeen

April 18, 1854

Rain-Softened Trail

The wagons moved again beneath a clear sky.

Eleanor managed the rear division again, with Nathaniel’s whistle hanging around her neck while he rode ahead to test the softened ground.

By midday, they reached a long descent.

“Keep the teams slow,” Nathaniel called. “No wagon begins until the one ahead reaches the bottom.”

Eleanor repeated the order down the line. When Mr. Daugherty made it clear he didn’t want to take orders from a woman, she said, “We can discuss my skirts, or we can keep your wagon upright.”

“You presume a great deal of authority,” Mr. Daugherty said.

“Only enough to keep twelve wagons from piling together. I find that number persuasive.”

Nathaniel's horse stepped onto the slope.

The animal's front hoof slid.

Everything happened at once. The horse went down. Nathaniel pitched over its shoulder and struck the ground hard enough that Eleanor heard the impact from several yards away.

“Nathaniel!”

She ran.