Page 6 of Eleanor’s Earrings

West of Independence

Rain began before dawn and showed no inclination to stop simply because twelve wagons needed to travel west.

Eleanor stood beneath the edge of the wagon canvas and stared at the road. It had been firm the previous evening. Now it was thick brown mud that seemed determined to keep every wheel exactly where it was.

“Father's schedule does not mention rain on the second day,” Lydia said.

She was sitting inside the wagon with Grace and Lucy, all three wrapped in blankets. Eleanor turned her head slowly.

“I am beginning to suspect Father did not personally arrange the weather.”

“That seems like poor planning,” Rebecca said as she passed with an armful of damp firewood. “I expected better from a man with so many lists.”

“Can we stay here?” Lucy asked.

“We will wait for Mr. Cooper's decision.”

“I thought you did not like his decisions,” Lydia said.

Eleanor gave her a look.

Lydia smiled and pulled the blanket over her head.

Nathaniel rode into camp with water dripping from his hat. He spoke to the men nearest the front, then continued down the line. When he reached the Whitaker wagons, Eleanor stepped out to meet him.

“We will move,” he said. “Slowly. There is higher ground ahead, and this camp will become worse if we remain.”

“How far?”

“Six miles if the road holds. Less if it does not.”

“That is very reassuring.”

“I considered lying, but you strike me as a woman who would notice.”

“Eventually.”

His mouth twitched. “Keep the sisters who are not driving on foot where the ground allows it. We need less weight in the wagons. At the long rise, stronger teams will double back to help the weaker ones.”

“Our teams will manage.”

“I did not say they would not.”

“You looked at our wagons when you mentioned the weaker teams.”

“I looked at you because I was speaking to you.”

Eleanor folded her arms. He was infuriating. Worse, he was usually calm while being infuriating.

“If our teams need help,” she said, “I will ask for it.”

“If I wait for every proud emigrant to ask, we will reach Oregon sometime in 1863.”

“I am not proud.”

Caroline coughed behind her.

Eleanor did not turn around.