Free Hidden in a Whisper by Tracie Peterson Page A

her heartbreak to interfere with that which demanded completion.
    Picking up an envelope, Esmeralda considered the reply of a Baltimore storekeeper. He stated that he would be happy to take her up on the offer of free rent for the first six months and to consider signing papers pledging himself to a full five years of service in Morita. He went on to list the type of store he’d owned in Baltimore, and Esmeralda placed his letter in the stack of acceptable businesses.
    The next letter had been penned by a banker who offered to bring his knowledge to the West. He wrote in a most condescending manner, saying that while he understood the desire to strengthen the town economically and to bring in business, he believed Esmeralda’s methods to be a bit addlepated. His letter went immediately into the trash. Esmeralda would brook no criticism of her plan.
    An interruption to her day came as it always did at two-thirty every Tuesday afternoon. Lettie Johnson, the plump and rather plainfaced pastor’s wife, was led into the parlor where Esmeralda formally received her company. Lettie called this her Christian visitation and, as the pastor’s wife, considered it a solemn duty. Esmeralda called it her Tuesday gossip session and would have refused the woman altogether had she not always brought with her valuable information related to the attitudes and current thoughts of the townsfolk.
    â€œGood afternoon, Mrs. Needlemeier,” Lettie said, removing her simple brown bonnet. “My, but it’s a beautiful day out there. Have you managed to take a walk today?”
    â€œNo,” Esmeralda said, tapping her cane upon the hardwood floor as she moved to take her position in a red velvet chair. “I’ve been much too busy with the affairs of the town.”
    â€œMr. Johnson tells me we’re going to elect a mayor,” Lettie said, her full face breaking into a grin. “Word has it that there are several who would qualify for such a position of importance. I wonder whom you might consider acceptable for such a position.”
    Esmeralda hated the woman’s prying, knowing that her utmost concern was to find out whether her husband would receive the backing and support of the town’s matriarch.
    â€œI don’t suppose I’ve had much time to think about it,” Esmeralda stated rather severely. “Politics has its place, but there are matters of far greater concern.”
    Lettie nodded, her expression showing her disappointment. “I suppose so.”
    Esmeralda refused to be goaded. “The affairs of the new resort have kept me quite consumed. Have you managed to take a tour of the grounds?”
    â€œNo,” Lettie replied. “We do plan to attend the festivities, however. I’m quite looking forward to it, and I even received my husband’s permission to make myself a new dress. Won’t that be wonderful!”
    â€œI suppose all of the women of the church sewing circle shall consume their days with fashioning new creations to show off at the grand opening of Casa Grande,” Esmeralda replied dryly. She could imagine the insufferable ninnies running about in their homespun gowns, each boasting the smartness of the other’s design. They would all be put to shame by the dignitaries’wives who would come with their collection of Worth gowns and expensive jewelry.
    Lettie giggled as though she were a young girl instead of a woman quickly approaching her fifties. “We’re having a sewing circle tomorrow morning, and you would certainly be welcome to attend.”
    â€œI hardly think so,” Esmeralda replied, looking down her nose at the woman. She had worked hard to establish a position of aloofness and reserve. Sometimes it served her well, and other times the loneliness it caused consumed her. However, sewing circles were hardly the type of socializing Esmeralda would bend to attend. Instead, she looked forward to the class of