Page 11 of Eleanor’s Earrings

Nathaniel considered this. “A serious charge.”

“Do not encourage her.”

“I would not dream of interfering in family discipline.”

“You interfere in everything else.”

“Only wagon-related matters.”

Lydia brightened. “The whistle came west in a wagon.”

Nathaniel coughed into his fist.

Eleanor stared at both of them. “I suddenly understand why some people choose to travel alone.”

“Too late,” Rebecca said. “You brought seven of us.”

Lucy grinned. “You would miss us.”

“Eventually.”

Nathaniel’s smile followed Eleanor for the next half mile, which was irritating because she found herself smiling too.

Later that morning, Eleanor found Nathaniel showing two drivers how to check a wheel pin before it worked loose. She stopped because she wanted to learn, not because she wanted to watch his hands. At least that was what she told herself.

“Miss Whitaker,” he said without looking up. “Are you supervising?”

“I am observing.”

“Is there a difference?”

“A supervisor expects obedience.”

He glanced at her. “Then I am relieved.” Nathaniel tapped the pin. “If this begins walking outward, stop before the wheel decides to continue to Oregon without the wagon.”

“That has happened?”

“Twice.”

“To you?”

“To men who assured me they knew better.”

“Ah. Men.”

“Do not sound so pleased.”

“I am merely collecting evidence that stubbornness is not confined to women.”

“I could have told you that.”

“I prefer independent verification.”

He showed her how to test the pin, then handed her the tool instead of doing the work for her. Eleanor corrected her angle after one quiet suggestion and finished the check herself.

Nathaniel nodded. “Good.”

That simple confidence in her competence warmed Eleanor far more than it should have.