Free Touching the Sky by Tracie Peterson Page A

you, Laura. It would go well with your complexion.”
    “I agree it’s lovely, Mother. However, it is certain to be expensive. Remember what I said before: We do not want to alienate those who are less fortunate by flaunting our wealth.”
    “Nonsense. This is a wedding. I will not have my daughters looking shabby. Just because others did not have the foresight to secure their valuables and assets as your father has done, is no reason we must pretend to be as ill prepared.” She turned to Mr. May. “We will take the bolt. Have it delivered to Mrs. Demarist. She is to design and sew the gown.”
    “Very good,” Mr. May declared in a voice that clearly showed his excitement over such a sale.
    They visited another three stores before finally exhausting their choices. As they were about to leave Mercer’s Mercantile, the owner hurried to stop them.
    “Mrs. Marquardt, I have news that you will want to know.” He leaned close so that if anyone was trying to overhear, they would be thwarted. “My brother is bringing up a shipment from Matamoros.”
    Although Laura knew her mother was exhausted, Agatha Marquardt was not about to be left out of this news. “Do tell. Will there be flour?”
    “I am told,” he said in a barely audible voice, “that he will bring at least six barrels of flour.”
    “I will happily pledge to take as much as can be spared,” Mother replied. “At a minimum I shall want to secure half a barrel.”
    Mr. Mercer nodded. “I thought as much. There will also be good cane sugar, salt, and coffee, as well. Real coffee,” he added as if she might question him.
    “Save us some of each,” Mother instructed. “As much as you dare. I do not wish to be greedy, but I have a good number of people to feed.”
    “I will have it brought to you upon its arrival.” The man hurried off to help another customer.
    Laura couldn’t help but smile. “It will be wonderful to have flour again. The supplies have been so difficult to get with any regularity.”
    “I often think back to the days before the war when we were more than a little wasteful,” Mother said with a heavy sigh. “I have come to greatly appreciate the comforts of good food, warm fires, and plenty of soap.”
    Laura noted that her mother looked rather tired, so she suggested, “I believe it would do us both good to sit for a time and enjoy something cool to drink. Perhaps have some cakes.” She knew her mother’s penchant for sweets and played upon it now.
    “That would be most welcome,” Mother replied. “I do find such shopping to be a bit exhausting. When I think of having to return tomorrow with Carissa . . . well, it’s quite overwhelming.”
    “Then let me bring her tomorrow,” Laura offered as they made their way to a small restaurant. “I can show her the items you thought appropriate.”
    Mother nodded. “Thank you. That would be wonderful. I cannot tell you how much this wears on my nerves.”
    They entered the small establishment and were immediately seated by the front window. Laura liked this, for it afforded her a front-row view to watch the townsfolk pass by. Every day since the conclusion of the war, it seemed that Corpus Christi was regaining some of its former glory. New people were moving in while a few of the older, established families were returning to reclaim their homes.
    They placed an order for iced tea, chilled shrimp, and iced cakes. The latter seemed to revive Laura’s mother almost immediately as she began to nibble on the sweet treat.
    “Agatha?” a veiled woman in black mourning clothes questioned.
    Laura turned toward the voice and was able to make out the features of the gaunt and troubled Margaret Meuly. She smiled at the woman, but she didn’t receive one in return.
    “I thought that was you, but these days I can’t be certain of even my own name.”
    “I never expected to see you here, Margaret,” Laura’s mother said. “Won’t you sit?”
    She took the seat beside Laura’s