Chapter Sixteen
Storm-Bound Camp
Rain fell through the night and continued the next morning.
Before the rain confined the train, Rebecca had tested the young ox for a second mile.
The swelling was gone, and he placed the once-sore hoof squarely on the ground.
She returned him to his usual position beside the steady ox but marked him for inspection at every halt.
The lighter days had restored him; they would not waste that recovery by ignoring the old weakness.
The sacks, tools, and Whitaker trunk carried by neighboring wagons would remain redistributed until the ox had completed several sound travel days.
Nathaniel ordered the wagons to remain where they were. The ground ahead had become soft enough to swallow wheels, and the creek beside camp was rising. No one liked the delay, but even Mr. Daugherty had stopped suggesting they move after sinking to his ankles in mud.
Eleanor used the morning to inspect supplies and fulfill the last of the work promises made when the Whitaker load was redistributed. She had just finished mending a child's torn coat when Lydia hurried toward her.
“The trader is back.”
Eleanor stood so quickly that her ribs protested. “The man with my earrings?”
“Unless there is another dishonest trader with a red wagon.”
They found him near the edge of camp. His wagon pointed east rather than west, and he was arguing with Nathaniel about the road.
“The creek ahead is worse,” the trader said. “I am taking the northern road before it rises.”
Eleanor stepped beneath the awning over his goods. “You cannot leave.”
He glanced at her bare ears. “I am not part of your company.”
“You hold my property. Our agreement gives me thirty days to redeem it.”
“Then find me before the thirty days are over.”
“Where?”
“That is your concern.”
Nathaniel's expression hardened. “The agreement states that she may redeem the earrings from you. Leaving by another road with no destination makes that impossible.”
“Weather changed my plans.”
Eleanor took the folded agreement from the pouch beneath her cloak. “Weather does not change your word.”
The trader shrugged. “Bring the money now, and I will return them.”
“You know I do not have it.”
“Then I suppose they remain mine.”
Nathaniel took one step forward.
Eleanor caught his sleeve. “No.”
“He intends to steal them.”
“And striking him will not make his intention more lawful.”
“It may make him more cooperative.”
“I will handle it.”
Nathaniel looked at her. Anger burned in his eyes, but he nodded.
Thomas Reed examined the agreement while Caroline stood beside him. “There is no location stated for repayment,” Thomas said. “Only the period and the amount.”
“Exactly,” the trader said. “She can find me.”
Thomas shook his head. “It also does not allow you to hide the collateral. A judge would likely call that bad faith.”
“There is no judge here.”
“You accepted the earrings,” Eleanor said.
“I gave you lawful collateral,” the trader said.
“And I gave written terms.”
“There will be judges west,” Nathaniel said. “And military posts. And traders who depend upon emigrants trusting them.”
The man crossed his arms. “She can pay now.”
Eleanor's anger settled into something colder. “Very well.”
Nathaniel turned to her. “How?”
“I do not know yet.”
She gathered everyone who had witnessed the original bargain. Mrs. Bell told the trader that anyone who cheated a woman of her mother's earrings would not receive a penny from her family. The Turners agreed. Mr. Coleman said he would tell every westbound train about the man's conduct.
Soon a crowd stood around the red wagon.
The trader looked less certain. “I have not broken the agreement.”
“Then you will have no objection to honoring it,” Eleanor said.
“With payment.”
Caroline came to stand beside her. “How much do we still owe?”
Eleanor named the amount.
Her sisters exchanged glances.
Charlotte took a small purse from her pocket. “I have four dollars Father gave me for personal expenses.”
“No,” Eleanor said.
Rebecca added two coins. “Mine too.”
Martha placed money beside it. Lydia, Grace, and Lucy did the same.
“You cannot give me everything you carry,” Eleanor protested.
“You gave us the earrings,” Grace said.
“They were mine to give.”
“And this is ours,” Lydia answered.
The combined money was still not enough.
Mrs. Turner stepped forward. “We owe the Whitakers for flour after the river.” She handed Eleanor several coins.
Mr. Coleman paid part of the labor debt Rebecca had earned repairing harness. Mrs. Bell contributed the money she had intended to spend on tea.
“I will complain without it,” she said.
Within minutes, Eleanor held the entire repayment.
Her throat tightened. “I cannot take all of this.”
“You are not taking it,” Caroline said. “You are receiving what the family and the train owe.”
Eleanor looked at Nathaniel.
He smiled. “Community is inconvenient that way.”
She counted the money into the trader's hand. “My earrings.”
He hesitated, then pulled the cloth packet from a locked box.
Eleanor opened it.
Both garnets lay together. Nathaniel’s wire still secured the repaired clasp.
She put them on immediately.
The familiar weight brought tears to her eyes.
“Do they make you brave again?” Lucy asked.
Eleanor touched one stone. “No. They remind me I never had to be brave alone.”
*****
THE RAIN KEPT THE COMPANY in camp for a second day.
Nathaniel did not mind. He had spent most of the morning wanting to throw the trader into the creek, and a day without leading wagons gave him time to recover his judgment.
He found Eleanor beneath the Whitaker awning. She was polishing the garnets with a piece of soft cloth while her sisters worked nearby.
“You look like yourself again,” he said.
“Was I someone else without earrings?”
“You touched your ears constantly.”
“I did not.”
All seven sisters looked up.
Eleanor sighed. “Perhaps I did.”
Nathaniel sat beside her. “You handled the trader well.”
“I wanted to strike him.”
“So did I.”
“You appeared ready.”
“I was considering the legal consequences.”
“Were there many?”
“Not if the creek carried him far enough.”
Eleanor laughed.
Nathaniel took her hand. “You accepted everyone's help.”
“It was not easy.”
“I know.”
“Father gave the earrings to me because he trusted me to save the family. I thought that meant I alone had to decide, pay, work, and sacrifice.”
“Your father may have meant that.”
She looked at him.
“Good men can be wrong,” Nathaniel said. “Even fathers.”
“And wagon masters?”
“Occasionally.”
Rebecca made a skeptical sound.
Nathaniel ignored it.
Eleanor leaned her head against his shoulder. “The earrings mean something different now.”
“What?”
“They belonged to Mother. Father entrusted them to me. My sisters and the entire company brought them back.” She squeezed his hand. “They are not proof of what I must carry. They are proof of what love refuses to let me lose.”
Nathaniel kissed the top of her head.
He wanted to ask for a life beside her. He wanted to promise that she would never lose another thing.
He knew both impulses were foolish. A proposal offered in the middle of fear might feel like one more burden, and no husband could protect a wife from every loss.
He could offer something better. He could stand beside her when the losses came. For the present, he held her hand while the rain fell.
Lucy accepted her punishment for the doll incident with suspicious good humor once the rain had pinned the train in camp.
On the third morning of extra duties, Eleanor found her polishing every tin cup in the family.
“You are enjoying this too much.”
Lucy looked up. “I like shiny things.”
“That is not a defense.”
“I did not know I needed one.”
Eleanor sat beside her. “Are you still angry with me?”
“For yelling?”
“For the extra work.”
“No.”
“For making you tell two sisters before leaving camp?”
Lucy considered. “That is inconvenient.”
“It is meant to be.”
“What if I want privacy?”
“You are seventeen and traveling with seven sisters. Privacy is a story people tell children.”
Lucy laughed. Then her expression grew serious. “I really did think Anna needed the doll.”
“I know.”
“She cries at night because she misses her grandmother. The doll belonged to her.”
Eleanor’s irritation softened. Lucy’s impulsiveness had always been tangled with tenderness. She saw a hurt and ran toward it before asking whether running was wise.
“You have a generous heart,” Eleanor said. “I would like you to keep it long enough to reach Oregon.”
Lucy smiled. “I will try.”
“Try harder.”
“Yes, Eleanor.”
A beat passed.
“Do you think Nathaniel will kiss you again today?”
Eleanor stared at her.
Lucy’s innocent expression was nearly perfect.
“Extra cups,” Eleanor said.
“How many?”
“All of them.”
“I knew asking was worth it.”
Eleanor walked away before Lucy saw her smile. She had no idea what kind of man would someday keep pace with Lucy. He would need quick reflexes.
Nathaniel attempted to teach Lucy a card game.
This was a mistake.
“You cheated,” he said.
Lucy looked scandalized. “I did not.”
“You had three queens.”
“That is luck.”
“There are only four in the deck.”
“Yes.”
“And Rebecca had two.”
Lucy looked at Rebecca.
Rebecca looked at the cards. “Oh.”
Eleanor folded her arms. “Explain.”
Lydia said, “I may have combined two decks.”
“Why?”
“It made the game more interesting.”
Nathaniel put down his cards. “I have led wagon trains through mountain passes.”
Caroline nodded sympathetically. “And yet here you are.”
“I served in the Army.”
Martha handed him coffee. “Drink.”
Nathaniel accepted it.
Eleanor smiled. “Overwhelmed?”
“Completely.”
“You could leave.”
He looked at her. “Would you come?”
Seven sisters made identical sounds of outrage.
Eleanor laughed. “Absolutely not.”
“Then I remain.”
Lydia gathered the cards. “Another game?”
“No,” everyone said.
She sighed. “No one values innovation.”