Page 142 of Eleanor’s Earrings

Nathaniel was not a pleasant patient.

By the morning after his fall, he had attempted to leave the wagon three times. Martha threatened to bind him. Eleanor threatened to let Martha.

“The company needs a wagon master,” he said.

“It has one,” Eleanor answered. “She is attempting to eat breakfast.”

“You are enjoying the title.”

“I am enjoying your irritation.”

He leaned back against the bedding. “Cruel woman.”

“Rest.”

Eleanor led the train for a second day. Nathaniel advised when she asked and was silent when she did not, though the silence occasionally looked painful.

The road climbed gradually through rolling country. Near midday, a wagon wheel began making a metallic knock.

Eleanor halted the line before the sound worsened.

Rebecca examined the wheel. “The iron tire is loosening.”

“Can we repair it here?”

“We can heat and reset it, but the road is too narrow for every wagon to wait in place.”

Eleanor studied the grade. “Move the damaged wagon into the level clearing. Stagger the others along the rise with space between them. No team stands directly behind another wagon.”

Mr. Daugherty started to object, then looked at the slope and closed his mouth.

“Did you wish to say something?” Eleanor asked.

“No.”

“A pity. You have been so helpful.”

Mrs. Bell laughed from her wagon.

The repair took two hours. Eleanor used the time for grazing, a cold meal, and checks on every wheel in the train.

When the iron tire was secure, they continued without incident.

At camp, the man who had first challenged Eleanor came to her fire.

“You kept the wagons from crowding the grade,” he said.

“That was the intention.”

“I would have rushed the repair.”

“Then we would have reached camp sooner.”

He looked surprised.

“With more broken wheels,” Eleanor added.

He smiled reluctantly. “You did well.”