Page 2 of Caroline’s Compass

“You have checked the fire twice, the breakfast once, and the water bucket three times.”

“The water remained in it every time.”

“A triumph.”

Caroline set down the spoon. Everyone had become unusually observant since Eleanor's courtship. It was an unfortunate development.

The shelter flap opened. Nathaniel stepped out first, his right arm still held close by the sling beneath his coat. He looked rested, pleased, and far too amused with the world for a man who had married into the Whitaker family.

Eleanor emerged behind him wearing both garnet earrings. Her hair was pinned neatly, though one dark strand had escaped near her cheek. She saw all seven sisters watching her and stopped.

“Good morning,” Grace said with exaggerated innocence.

“Not one word,” Eleanor answered.

Lydia lifted her hands. “I have said nothing.”

“Your face has.”

Nathaniel looked at Caroline. “Is breakfast always this dangerous?”

“Usually more so.”

Eleanor came to the fire and reached for the coffee pot with the authority of a woman who had never required permission for anything. Nathaniel took it first with his left hand and poured a cup for her.

Eleanor stared at the cup.

He held it out. “This is the part where you accept help without treating it as a military defeat.”

“I learned that lesson yesterday.”

“Marriage requires review.”

She accepted the coffee. The softness in her face lasted only a moment, but Caroline saw it.

Something inside her shifted. Eleanor was still Eleanor. She was also Nathaniel's wife now, and the two truths occupied the same patch of morning as comfortably as the coffee between them.

Caroline should have been happy without reservation. She was happy. The reservation had simply arrived on its own.

Nathaniel glanced toward the wagons. “We will move in an hour. The ground ahead should be firm enough if the rain stays north.”

“I will take the rear division,” Eleanor said.

“You will eat first.”

“I can do both.”

“Not with one hand occupied by coffee.”

They began an argument so familiar that marriage appeared to have changed nothing except the distance between their blankets.

Caroline took bowls to Grace and Lucy, checked that Charlotte had recorded the remaining cornmeal, reminded Lydia to tie her bonnet, and found Rebecca tightening the lead team's yoke.

“You are driving the second wagon,” Caroline said.

Rebecca looked up. “I know.”

“Keep the Coleman wagon behind you if the ground softens. His ox is still favoring the sore beneath its yoke.”