Page 68 of Eleanor’s Earrings

Eleanor stared at her.

Caroline's eyes filled. “You cannot keep us safe by making us afraid you will collapse.”

The anger left Eleanor all at once. “I am sorry,” she said.

“Good. Get in the wagon.”

Eleanor obeyed.

The first hour was unbearable. She heard the wagons moving, the teams being directed, and her sisters making decisions without her. Every few minutes, she lifted the canvas to see what they were doing.

Charlotte finally tied it shut from the outside.

“That is mutiny,” Eleanor called.

“It is wind,” Charlotte answered.

“There is no wind.”

“A very selective wind.”

Eleanor lay back against the bedding. She expected disaster.

None came.

Caroline drove. Rebecca checked the teams and the repaired wagon. Charlotte kept the rear division's spacing. Lydia carried messages when Nathaniel signaled a change. Martha checked Eleanor so often that Eleanor threatened to become ill merely to justify the attention.

Her sisters managed. That should have pleased her. Instead, it frightened her. If they did not need her every moment, who was she?

*****

NATHANIEL RODE BESIDE the Whitaker wagon for most of the afternoon.

He lifted the canvas. Eleanor was sitting against a pile of bedding with her arms folded.

“How is the prisoner?”

“Considering escape.”

“Charlotte tied an excellent knot.”

“You encouraged her.”

“I praised her afterward.”

Eleanor looked toward the road ahead. “The train is moving well.”

“It is.”

“Caroline has not struck anything?”

“Only your pride.”

She frowned.

Nathaniel rode quietly for a few moments. “When Abigail became ill, I worked more.”

Eleanor turned toward him.