Page 2 of Eleanor’s Earrings

“Your mother wore these whenever she needed a bit of courage,” he had told her.

Eleanor had not understood why courage required earrings. She understood now.

She fastened them beneath her bonnet.

The left clasp did not close as firmly as the right. Eleanor pinched it tighter with her thumbnail and tested it twice before letting the earring fall into place. The small weakness bothered her, but replacing a clasp in Independence would mean delaying duties that already filled every minute. She resolved to watch it carefully on the trail.

“You are wearing them,” Caroline said.

“I can see that nothing escapes you this morning.”

“You only wear them when you are frightened.”

Eleanor closed the box more sharply than necessary. “I wear them on important occasions.”

“Which frighten you.”

“Go check the second team.”

Caroline smiled. “Aye, Captain.”

Eleanor watched her go. She did not want to be captain. She wanted Father standing beside the lead wagon, laughing about the distance ahead and assuring them that all would be well.

Since wanting would not bring him back, she tucked the empty box into the wagon and returned to work.

*****

NATHANIEL COOPER HAD seen emigrants arrive in Independence with feather beds, parlor chairs, clocks, china, and enough framed pictures to build a third wagon from the wood. He had seen men purchase oxen without knowing which end needed the yoke. He had once watched a woman attempt to pack a cage containing six chickens beside a crate of lamp oil.

He had thought himself prepared for anything.

Then eight unmarried women had appeared with two of the best-packed wagons in his train.

Nathaniel stood near the lead wagon and watched the eldest sister direct the others. Eleanor Whitaker was tall, dark-haired, and composed. She did not raise her voice. She did not need to. Her sisters moved when she spoke, even when the younger ones rolled their eyes first.

He had reviewed their supplies the previous afternoon. They were prepared better than half the families under his care. That did not mean he liked the idea of eight women traveling without a grown man among them.

It would add complications. The Oregon Trail already provided plenty without anyone bringing extra from home.

He walked toward Eleanor. “Miss Whitaker.”

She looked at him. Her gray eyes were cool. “Mr. Cooper.”

He had introduced himself twice, yet she always said his name as though reminding herself who would be responsible if anything went wrong.

“We will form the train shortly. I want your wagons in the middle until I know how your drivers handle the teams.”

“My drivers handle them very well.”

“I did not say they did not.”

“You implied it.”

Nathaniel took a breath. “Miss Whitaker, I am not questioning your preparations. I am responsible for twelve wagons. Until I have seen every driver on the road, the least experienced will travel where help can reach them quickly.”

“I began driving teams when I was twelve.”

“And your sisters?”