Page 12 of Eleanor’s Earrings

At breakfast, Rebecca pushed the bacon toward Lydia.

Lydia stared at it. “That piece is burned.”

“It is cooked.”

“It has passed cooked and entered geology.”

Martha took it and ate it.

Lydia looked betrayed. “You cannot reward Rebecca.”

Charlotte said, “We have consumed more bacon than Father estimated.”

Eleanor immediately looked over.

Charlotte smiled faintly. “I wanted to see how quickly you would become concerned.”

Caroline laughed. “Charlotte is developing a sense of humor.”

“I have always had one.”

“No,” Rebecca said. “You have had arithmetic.”

Nathaniel walked past with coffee.

Lydia called, “Mr. Cooper, is burned bacon edible?”

He studied the piece. “That may have been bacon once.”

Rebecca pointed at him. “Traitor.”

“I am wagon master, not judge.”

Eleanor said, “You spend most of your day judging.”

“Only roads, wagons, animals, drivers, weather, loads, campsites, and occasionally you.”

“Occasionally?”

“Frequently.”

“At least you admit it.”

“I am learning honesty.”

Lydia looked between them. “This is more entertaining than breakfast.”

Chapter Three

April 3, 1854

Near the Kansas border

The rain stopped during the night, but the world did not immediately become pleasant. Mud remained mud even though water was no longer falling from the sky.

Eleanor woke before the others and stepped carefully around sleeping bodies. Eight women did not fit comfortably inside one wagon. They fit even less comfortably when damp clothing hung from every available hook.

Grace slept between Martha and Lydia, exactly as Nathaniel had suggested. Her breathing sounded easier.