Page 16 of Eleanor’s Earrings

He carried Samuel across. Eleanor's hands never loosened on the rope.

When he reached solid ground, Mrs. Turner took the boy and wept over him. Her husband arrived moments later.

“Thank you, Mr. Cooper,” Mr. Turner said. “I cannot say what we owe you.”

“Miss Whitaker found him,” Nathaniel said. “And the rope was her plan.”

The man turned to Eleanor. “Thank you, ma'am.”

She smiled. “Keep him away from frogs for a day or two.”

After the Turners left, Nathaniel untied the rope.

“You did not have to correct him,” Eleanor said.

“You did the work.”

“We both did.”

“Then we should both receive the blame if he wanders off again.”

She laughed.

He liked that sound far too much.

They walked back toward the wagons together. “What brought you to this?” she asked. “Being a wagon master, I mean.”

“The Army taught me to move supplies and men. After I left, leading emigrants seemed useful.”

“And your wife traveled with you?”

Nathaniel's steps slowed.

Eleanor noticed. “You need not answer.”

“Abigail died before I led my first train.”

“I am sorry.”

He nodded.

She did not ask how or when. She did not offer easy words about God's plan. She simply walked beside him.

Nathaniel had forgotten how comforting silence could be when another person chose to share it.

That night, he saw Eleanor writing in the margin of her father's schedule.

“What are you adding?” he asked.

“The truth.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Father wrote that we would travel twelve miles today. We traveled eight, and we found a boy.”

“The boy did slow us.”

“I wrote that the distance was sufficient.”