Page 145 of Eleanor’s Earrings

“Soon.”

“How soon?”

Nathaniel kissed her before she could continue.

Eleanor kissed him back, then whispered against his mouth, “You are very annoying.”

“You will have years to tell me.”

By the evening of April twentieth, Nathaniel’s recovery had created a new problem: he was well enough to be bored and not well enough to do anything about it.

On the evening of April twentieth, Eleanor found him attempting to sharpen a knife one-handed.

She took the whetstone away.

“I was using that.”

“Badly.”

“I have sharpened knives since before you learned to read.”

“With your right hand.”

“My left hand is trainable.”

“Your left hand nearly removed your thumb.”

“It did not.”

“Because I arrived.”

Nathaniel looked toward the wagons. “Does marriage to you include constant supervision?”

“There is still no marriage.”

“Potential marriage.”

“Potential supervision.”

He smiled. “I look forward to it.”

Eleanor sat beside him and took the knife. “What needs doing?”

“Everything.”

“Specifically.”

“The west wheel on the Coleman wagon squeaks.”

“Rebecca checked it.”

“Mr. Hall’s near ox is favoring the left side.”

“Rebecca checked that too.”

“The firewood stack is too close to the—”

“Moved an hour ago.”