Page 134 of Eleanor’s Earrings

Mr. Daugherty received responsibility for the ropes.

If he objected to taking orders from her, he could do so while pulling.

Every wagon reached the bottom.

They traveled only three more miles before Eleanor chose a dry rise for camp. It was shorter than Nathaniel might have planned, but the teams were tired and the road ahead uncertain.

She could almost hear Father's schedule protesting from inside her pouch.

For once, she did not care.

*****

NATHANIEL WOKE IN THE Whitaker wagon and immediately tried to sit.

Pain tore through his shoulder.

Eleanor pressed one hand against his chest. “Do not move.”

“Where are we?”

“Camped on a rise three miles beyond the descent.”

“Only three?”

“The road was poor.”

“We need more distance.”

“We need our wagon master able to remember falling from a horse.”

Nathaniel frowned. The fall existed in broken pieces: the horse sliding, sky where ground should have been, Eleanor's voice.

“The company?”

“All twelve wagons are in camp. No damage. No injuries.”

Relief moved through him. “Who led?”

“I did.”

He looked at her face. She was tired, mud-streaked, and more beautiful than any woman had a right to be after ordering twelve wagons through a difficult descent.

“Of course you did.”

Eleanor's expression softened.

Nathaniel tried to stand again.

She pushed him back. “No.”

“I need to inspect the camp.”

“I have inspected it.”

“The animals?”

“Rebecca and Mr. Hall checked them.”