Page 19 of Caroline’s Compass

Nathaniel credited both of them before the company. Thomas immediately named Caroline's load order as the reason the wagon remained balanced. Caroline named his escape angle. Mr. Avery said they might continue praising one another until supper if no one stopped them. The laughter eased the danger, but Caroline carried Thomas's unspoken decision about Fort Kearny into the night.

During the reloading, Mrs. Bell discovered that one of her china cups had been placed in a crate with horseshoe nails. She held the intact cup aloft and demanded to know who had attempted murder.

Mr. Bell said the cup appeared healthy. Mrs. Bell said survival did not excuse the crime.

Caroline traced the crate to Mr. Avery, who had helped unload during the marsh recovery. Avery claimed he had been saving the cup from mud. Charlotte asked why safety required nails. Avery said the question was hostile.

Thomas examined the cup. “No fracture.”

“There may be invisible injury,” Mrs. Bell said.

“I am not qualified to assess emotional damage in crockery.”

“Then your education is incomplete.”

Caroline found clean cloth and showed Mrs. Bell how to wrap each cup separately before replacing the crate. Thomas cut thin wooden dividers from a broken produce box. Mr. Bell watched them work and whispered that the cups had traveled farther with more comfort than he had.

Mrs. Bell heard. She always heard. “The work sounds respectable,” she said.

He did not pretend to misunderstand. “It is.”

“Steady.”

“Likely.”

“You have not had steady work?”

“I have had continuous work. It has not always occupied the same place.”

“Do you want the same place?”

Thomas looked ahead. “I have never required it.”

That was not an answer. Caroline recognized the method because she used it herself.

“Fort Kearny is not Clover Creek,” she said.

“No.”

“You never said you intended to come to Clover Creek.”

“No.”

Each quiet answer placed another measured foot between them.

Caroline clicked to the oxen. “We should regain the lost time.”

Thomas fell back.

*****

BEFORE SUPPER, THE china had become another company story: the surveyor who mapped a teacup, the capable lady who organized saucers, and the husband who nearly slept beneath a different wagon. The foolishness gave everyone a way to laugh after the dangerous swale without pretending the danger had been small.

Before darkness settled, Caroline made one final circuit of the freed wagon. Mud coated the wheel hub, the rope had frayed near the anchor knot, and two flour sacks still waited in the grass. She assigned Lydia and Grace to carry the lighter goods while Rebecca inspected the axle.

Thomas crouched beside the wheel with his level across his knees. “The hub is sound.”

“You have said that twice.”