Page 42 of Eleanor’s Earrings

“Everywhere Eleanor is touching me.”

Eleanor realized she had gripped Caroline's arm tightly and let go.

Martha pushed through the gathering sisters. She checked Caroline's head, arms, ribs, and legs with calm efficiency.

“Nothing feels broken,” Martha said. “She will be bruised.”

Caroline sat slowly. “I have had better mornings.”

Eleanor put her arms around her. She did not care that all of them were watching.

Caroline hugged her back. “I am all right.”

“You could have been killed.”

“But I was not.”

Nathaniel moved to inspect the wagon. Eleanor followed after Martha helped Caroline to the first wagon.

The long wooden reach connecting the front and rear portions had split. The wagon leaned at an angle, and part of the load had shifted.

“I should have seen the rut,” Eleanor said.

Nathaniel looked at the grass. “No one could see it.”

“I was leading.”

“Which did not give you the ability to look through the ground.”

“I should have—”

“Stop.” His voice was firm enough that she did.

“You are responsible for making decisions,” he said. “You are not responsible for every rock, hole, storm, illness, and foolish act between here and Oregon.”

“It feels as though I am.”

His expression softened. “I know.”

The simple words made it harder to breathe.

Rebecca crawled beneath the wagon. “We can repair it.”

Nathaniel crouched beside her. “The split runs nearly through.”

“There is straight hardwood in the tool crate. We can replace the broken length.”

“Not without taking apart half the running gear. An iron brace will hold until we reach a place where we can shape a new reach.”

Rebecca came out from beneath the wagon with dirt on her face. “A brace alone will put too much strain on the split.”

“It will hold.”

“Until it does not.”

Eleanor looked from one to the other. “We will do both.”

Rebecca frowned. “Both?”