Page 84 of Eleanor’s Earrings

He carried it to her.

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome.”

When he returned, Eleanor said, “Mystery solved.”

Nathaniel looked around the wagon circle. “I have changed my mind about river crossings.”

“How?”

“They are simpler than women’s hair.”

Eleanor patted his arm. “You are learning.”

“Slowly.”

“Very slowly.”

He caught her hand before she could pull it away.

“But I have an excellent teacher.”

Eleanor smiled.

From beneath the wagon, Lydia said, “We can hear you.”

Nathaniel sighed. “Of course you can.”

Chapter Twelve

April 12, 1854

Westward Trail

The repaired wagon rolled without trouble.

Eleanor listened for every creak anyway.

She had checked the new iron strap before dawn. Rebecca had checked after her. Nathaniel had inspected it before the train moved. Still, Eleanor glanced back every few minutes, expecting smoke, splintered wood, or some entirely new disaster.

Mrs. Bell joined her during the morning walk.

The older woman had been a widow for nearly ten years and traveled with her married son and his wife. She carried a walking stick she did not need and used it to point at anything that displeased her.

That morning, it pointed toward Nathaniel.

“Has that man declared his intentions?” Mrs. Bell asked.

Eleanor nearly stumbled. “What man?”

“Do not insult me. I may be old, but I am not blind.”

“Mr. Cooper is the wagon master.”

“He was the wagon master when he kissed you behind the wagon?”

Eleanor stopped walking. “How do you know about that?”