Page 121 of Eleanor’s Earrings

Eleanor laughed. “There’s the impatient man.”

He kissed her again.

From somewhere near the wagons, Lydia shouted, “We cannot hear what you are saying!”

Eleanor turned. “Good!”

Nathaniel laughed and drew her close again.

For the first time since Father died, Eleanor did not feel solely responsible for everything she loved.

The rain-bound day became an exercise in finding useful work for people who were tired of being wet.

Grace taught three younger children a clapping game beneath the Turner awning. Charlotte reorganized the food records. Rebecca inspected every harness buckle twice. Martha baked biscuits in a covered pan because she claimed damp weather required bread.

Lydia organized a contest.

Eleanor discovered this when she heard cheering.

“What is happening?”

Lucy looked guilty.

“That is never a reassuring expression.”

“We are guessing how many times Mr. Daugherty will complain before supper.”

Eleanor stared at her.

Grace held up a scrap of paper covered in marks. “I guessed seventeen.”

“He is already at fourteen,” Lucy said.

“Who is keeping count?”

Mrs. Bell raised her hand.

Eleanor looked toward the older woman. “You are participating?”

“I have three cents on twenty-one.”

Nathaniel came up behind Eleanor. “What is the prize?”

“Do not encourage them.”

“I need to know whether I should enter.”

“You are the wagon master.”

“Which gives me superior access to Mr. Daugherty.”

“That is cheating,” Lydia said.

Nathaniel considered. “Then I will abstain.”

A shout came from across camp. “This mud is going to ruin every wheel!”

Mrs. Bell calmly made another mark.