Page 7 of Eleanor’s Earrings

Nathaniel looked past her toward Caroline, who suddenly became very interested in checking a wheel. “Be ready in fifteen minutes.”

He rode away.

“You could try agreeing with him once,” Caroline said.

“I agreed that we would be ready.”

“After arguing with everything else.”

“That was not arguing. It was a discussion.”

“Did he know it was a discussion?”

Eleanor reached for her gloves. “Get the girls moving.”

The wagons rolled out in a steady rain. Eleanor drove the first while Caroline drove the second. Rebecca walked near the oxen, watching their footing. Martha kept Grace close because the girl's cough had returned during the night.

The first mile was miserable. The second was worse.

“You are enjoying being right,” Eleanor said.

“The rain has offered me very little else to enjoy,” Nathaniel said.

“Then savor it quietly.”

Mud sucked at their boots. Wheels sank to the hubs in low places. Every few minutes someone shouted for a halt while a wagon was pushed, pulled, or pried free.

Eleanor's arms ached from handling the team, but she kept her eyes on the road. She would not be the reason the train stopped.

They reached the long rise near midday.

The first wagons started up one at a time. Men walked beside wheels, pushing. Animals strained. Nathaniel stood halfway up the slope, directing teams and keeping the wagons far enough apart that one slipping backward would not strike another.

When Eleanor's turn came, he motioned for an extra team.

“We can make it,” she called.

“You can make it with help.”

“We do not need—”

A wagon above them lurched sideways.

Nathaniel shouted. Men scattered as the rear wheel slid toward the edge of the road. The family driving it cried out from inside.

Eleanor handed the reins to Rebecca and jumped down.

“Caroline, bring our second team!” she called.

“Eleanor!” Nathaniel shouted.

She ignored him. Rebecca and Eleanor led the first team forward while Caroline brought the second. Nathaniel understood what Eleanor intended before she reached him.

“Hook to the rear,” he ordered. “Keep them downhill of the wagon.”

Together they attached the Whitaker team to a rope fastened around the endangered wagon. Nathaniel directed the other men to brace the wheels.

“Pull!” he called.