Page 113 of Eleanor’s Earrings

They spent two hours cutting brush and laying a firmer path. Every wagon crossed without damage.

As the final wagon climbed the far bank, Nathaniel came to stand beside Eleanor. “We work well together,” he said.

“When you are sensible.”

“And when you are not counting spoons.”

She stared at him. “Lydia told you.”

“Lydia tells everyone.”

“I may leave her at the next river.”

“She would follow.”

Eleanor smiled despite herself.

*****

NATHANIEL WAITED UNTIL evening to speak with her privately. He found Eleanor near the grazing animals, checking the lame ox's leg. The swelling had eased, and Rebecca believed he could return to his usual place within two days.

“You avoided me,” Nathaniel said.

“I was busy.”

“With spoons.”

“They are important.”

“Twelve of them.”

She stood and brushed grass from her skirt. “I was thinking.”

“That is more believable.”

They walked away from the animals.

“Lucy asked whether I would leave my sisters if I married,” Eleanor said.

Nathaniel's steps slowed. “Would you?”

“No.”

“I would not ask you to.”

“You lead trains. My family is going to Clover Creek. Those lives do not fit together.”

“I told you I have considered leaving the trail.”

“Considered is not decided.”

“No.” He looked toward the wagons. “I am deciding now.”

Eleanor searched his face. “Because of me?”

“Partly. Because I am tired of guiding people toward homes while refusing to build one of my own.”

“What would you do in Clover Creek?”