Page 87 of Eleanor’s Earrings

“He is lame,” Rebecca said. “Not badly yet, but he will be if we keep him in the same position.”

It was the same ox whose hoof had troubled him in the mud on their second day. Rebecca had found no swelling then, but the repeated strain had plainly returned.

The ox stood with one hoof held slightly off the ground.

Eleanor's heart sank. They had no money for another animal. Their supplies already stretched the capacity of both teams.

“Can he walk?” she asked.

“Slowly, with less weight.”

Nathaniel examined the leg. “We can stop here, but I cannot hold the entire train more than one day.”

“You expect us to abandon a wagon?”

“I expect us to find another solution before tomorrow morning.”

Eleanor looked at him. “And if we cannot?”

“Then we make the least bad choice.”

She glanced at the second wagon, their remaining supplies, and her seven sisters.

The earrings were gone. Their money was nearly gone. Now one of the animals meant to carry them to Oregon could barely place its hoof on the ground.

For the first time since leaving Independence, Eleanor could not see an answer.

That evening, Eleanor let the question remain unanswered. She had not put uncertainty on Father’s inventory.

“Who moved my gloves?” Eleanor asked.

Silence.

“Lydia?”

“You always blame me.”

“Because it is usually you.”

“That is prejudice based on evidence.”

Lucy pointed toward Nathaniel.

Eleanor turned.

Nathaniel was wearing her gloves. They were far too small.

She stared.

He looked down. “These are uncomfortable.”

“Why are you wearing my gloves?”

“I found them on my saddle.”

Lydia began laughing.

Eleanor turned slowly toward her.