Page 34 of Eleanor’s Earrings

“How are your ribs?” he asked.

She kept her eyes on the figures. “They are still attached.”

“That was not my question.”

“They are bruised.”

“Martha should bind them.”

“Martha has.”

“And you should not lift anything heavy.”

“You are beginning to sound like an elderly aunt.”

“Did your elderly aunts often order you about?”

“They tried.”

Nathaniel laughed. Eleanor liked the sound. She liked it far too much.

*****

NATHANIEL FOUND THE trader shortly before noon.

The man had arrived from the west with coffee, flour, lamp oil, dried apples, and a collection of goods he claimed emigrants could not survive without. Most of those goods had survived perfectly well without the emigrants.

Nathaniel watched Eleanor examine a sack of flour. She asked the price and made a face.

“It was less in Independence,” she said.

“Independence is behind you,” the trader replied.

“I am aware of its location.”

The man's gaze moved to her earrings. “Those are fine stones.”

Eleanor straightened. “They are not for sale.”

“Everything is for sale somewhere between Missouri and Oregon.”

“Not those.”

She turned away, but Nathaniel saw her look back once.

Later, he found her alone near the riverbank. She had one hand on the leather pouch holding her father's plan.

“You asked what he would pay,” Nathaniel said.

Eleanor did not pretend ignorance. “I asked because I needed to know.”

“You have enough supplies.”

“Today.”

“He would not give you half their value.”

“Then I would not sell them to him.”