Page 61 of Eleanor’s Earrings

“You will not.”

“No.”

Nathaniel held out his left hand.

Eleanor stared at it.

“What?”

“You wanted proof.”

Her heart gave one ridiculous leap.

“My ribs.”

“We will go slowly.”

“The music is not slow.”

“I will speak with Avery.”

“You cannot order a fiddler to change tempo.”

“I am wagon master.”

“That authority does not extend to music.”

“We are about to discover that.”

Nathaniel walked directly to the fiddler.

Eleanor watched him say something.

Mr. Avery laughed. The reel ended. Then he began a slower tune.

The entire camp turned toward Eleanor.

She stared at Nathaniel.

He returned and offered his hand.

“You did that deliberately.”

“Yes.”

“Everyone is looking.”

“Yes.”

“I dislike you.”

“No, you do not.”

That was becoming an annoyingly effective answer.

Eleanor put her hand in his.

A cheer rose from somewhere near the Whitaker wagons.