Page 54 of Caroline’s Compass

Grace and Lucy listened from the other side of the wagon until Caroline sent them to collect chips for the fire. They returned with three chips and six additional questions. Thomas answered that he was thirty-one, had never been engaged, and did not snore, according to himself.

The ordinary foolishness made the sealed letter more destructive when it arrived. One moment they were learning small truths by choice. The next, Caroline discovered that the largest truth between them had been kept outside the conversation.

The letter arrived folded inside oilcloth and carried by a rider heading east.

He brought news from Fort Kearny, two notices for other travelers, and written confirmation that Thomas Reed could begin work with the Army's mapping office if he reported promptly. Caroline learned all of that from Mr. Avery while measuring flour.

“Good position,” Avery said. “Steady money. Reed must be pleased.”

The cup in Caroline's hand stopped halfway into the barrel. “Thomas received an answer?”

“This morning. The rider found him before breakfast.”

Caroline leveled the flour with unnecessary care. Thomas had spoken to her twice since breakfast—once about the road and once about the west ox. He had not mentioned the letter.

Their first rule had lasted less than two days.

She found him beyond the lead wagon, copying the morning mileage into his notebook. The oilcloth lay beside him.

“Were you going to tell me?” she asked.

Thomas looked up. His expression changed when he saw her face. “Yes.”

“When?”

“After I had decided what the letter meant.”

“It means the position is yours.”

“If I report promptly.”

“And do you intend to?”

He set down his pencil. “I do not know.”

Yesterday, that answer might have sounded honest. Today it sounded like a door he had closed before she reached it.

“You promised to tell me the truth even when it made you look foolish.”

“I am telling you.”

“After Mr. Avery did.”

Thomas rose. “I wanted an hour to think.”

“You had three.”

“You counted?”

“I measure things.” The borrowed joke failed between them.

Thomas picked up the letter. “The offer changes nothing until I accept it.”

“It changed something the moment you hid it.”

“I did not hide it.”

“You put it in oilcloth behind your notebook.”