She was tired by the time she reached the front.
Still, she held her head high.
For most of her life, people had made her feel as though occupying more space than other women was a personal offense. Her first husband, Henry Whitmore, had turned that cruelty into a daily ritual.
He complained about the furniture she needed.
Mocked the dresses a seamstress worked so hard to fit.
Criticized her appetite even when she had eaten almost nothing.
And told visitors that his wife was too large to accompany him to respectable gatherings.
Eleanor learned to laugh at the jokes before anyone could see her pain.
She learned to avoid mirrors.
She learned to apologize whenever a chair creaked or a doorway required careful negotiation.
Then she learned to stop asking whether Henry loved her.
It was easier to survive when she didn't expect an honest answer.
Henry had died eleven months earlier after a carriage overturned on a dangerous mountain road. His death left Eleanor with conflicting emotions she couldn't easily explain.
She was relieved that his cruelty had ended.
She was ashamed of the relief.
And she was frightened because Henry's father, Solomon Whitmore, had immediately begun trying to control her future.
Solomon was seventy-one, wealthy, influential, and accustomed to obtaining what he wanted through business arrangements that appeared respectable on paper.
He owned mining interests, warehouses, freight operations, and several parcels of valuable land throughout the region. He also maintained relationships with county officials who had benefited from his money for years.
Solomon insisted that Eleanor owed the Whitmore family a substantial sum.
He claimed Henry had borrowed against her property.
He claimed she'd approved the transactions.
He claimed that her expenses during the marriage had placed an unreasonable burden upon his son.
Eleanor knew those accusations were false.
But proving that was another matter.
Henry had controlled the household accounts.
He kept her letters.
He discouraged her from visiting town without permission.
And he made certain she rarely saw the documents he brought home for signature.
After his death, Solomon presented her with a stack of papers and instructed her to acknowledge the supposed debts.
She refused.
He smiled.
Then told her she would regret it.
Three weeks later, a lawyer arrived with a proposal concerning the administration of her property and finances.