Chapter 7 - Silver Hollow Had Not Forgotten Her
The tracks led nowhere.
They disappeared near a frozen creek where the snow had blown smooth.
Caleb wanted to follow.
Eleanor stopped him.
“Whoever it was is already gone.”
“Could be nearby.”
“And could want you wandering into the forest angry.”
Caleb stared toward the trees.
She touched his sleeve.
“Come inside.”
He obeyed reluctantly.
Two mornings later, supplies ran low.
They needed flour, lamp oil, nails, medicine, and more feed than a passing merchant could carry.
“We have to go to Silver Hollow,” Caleb said.
Eleanor’s stomach tightened.
She had not returned since their wedding.
Caleb noticed.
“You can stay here.”
“No.”
“You don’t need to prove anything.”
“That isn’t why I’m going.”
“Why are you?”
Eleanor fastened her coat.
“Because this is our household.”
Again that word.
Our.
Caleb said nothing.
They arrived in town near noon.
People stared before Eleanor had even dismounted.
News traveled faster than horses.
Margaret rushed from the tavern and hugged her.
“You look different.”
Eleanor frowned.
“Worse?”
“Better.”
“How?”
Margaret stepped back.
“You’re standing straight.”
Eleanor glanced toward Caleb.
He was unloading sacks.
“I always stood straight.”
“No, you didn’t.”
Margaret lowered her voice.
“You look happy.”
Eleanor immediately denied it.
“I look cold.”
Margaret smiled knowingly.
At the general store, whispers followed them.
Two women stopped talking when Eleanor entered.
A man near the stove said just loudly enough, “Morgan bring his purchase back for repairs?”
Caleb froze.
Eleanor’s hand caught his sleeve.
“Don’t.”
The man smirked.
“I was joking.”
Eleanor faced him.
“Then learn to be funny.”
Someone laughed.
Not at Eleanor.
At him.
The man reddened.
Caleb looked down at her.
She continued choosing flour as if nothing had happened.
Later they visited the county clerk.
Brooks had filed his preliminary report.
The clerk refused to show them the full document.
But his tone was encouraging.
“Your household appears consistent with the requirements.”
Eleanor exhaled.
Then the clerk added, “Rutherford has requested a formal review.”
Caleb’s relief vanished.
“When?”
“March.”
“As scheduled?”
“Possibly earlier.”
They left.
Outside, Rutherford waited.
“Enjoying married life?”
Caleb ignored him.
Rutherford turned to Eleanor.
“Your uncle tells me you rejected his offer.”
“Yes.”
“Pity.”
“For whom?”
He smiled.
“For you, eventually.”
Caleb stepped between them.
“Stay away from her.”
Rutherford’s eyes flicked toward him.
“You’re becoming protective of a business arrangement.”
Eleanor spoke before Caleb could.
“And you’re becoming obsessed with someone else’s marriage.”
The street went quiet.
Rutherford’s smile hardened.
“You think this town has accepted you because Morgan walks beside you?”
Eleanor felt the old wound.
He knew exactly where to cut.
“You’ll always be the woman nobody wanted until money was involved.”
Caleb moved.
Eleanor caught his hand.
Not his sleeve.
His hand.
The entire street seemed to notice.
She looked Rutherford directly in the eye.
“You’re wrong about one thing.”
“What?”
“I no longer care what this town thinks of me.”
Rutherford stared.
Eleanor tightened her grip on Caleb’s hand.
“And that makes men like you much less powerful.”
She walked away.
Caleb followed.
Neither released the other for half the street.
When Eleanor noticed, she tried to pull back.
Caleb’s fingers closed gently around hers.
“Leave it.”
She looked at him.
“What?”
“My hand.”
Her pulse jumped.
They continued walking.
Margaret watched from the tavern window.
So did half of Silver Hollow.
By evening, the story would be everywhere.
For once, Eleanor did not care.
They stayed overnight in two rooms at the tavern because heavy snow made the mountain road unsafe.
At supper, Margaret leaned close.
“You know what people are saying now?”
Eleanor sighed.
“I’m sure you’ll tell me.”
“They’re saying he looks at you like he means it.”
Eleanor nearly dropped her spoon.
“That means nothing.”
“Does it?”
“The contract ends in March.”
“And?”
“And then I leave.”
Margaret’s expression softened.
“Do you want to?”
Eleanor could not answer.
That night she lay awake in the room she once cleaned for paying customers.
Across the hall, Caleb was only a few feet away.
Yet the distance felt larger than the mountain.
March had once represented freedom.
Now it felt like a threat.
The following morning, Eleanor came downstairs.
Caleb stood by the door.
He handed her a cup of coffee.
“You remembered.”
“I always remember.”
Three ordinary words.
But Eleanor suddenly knew the answer to Margaret’s question.
No.
She did not want to leave.
May you like
And that knowledge frightened her more than Rutherford ever could.
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