Touching the Sky

by Tracie Peterson

  “Captain Reid, would you care to join us for dinner?” Father asked. “We’re planning a nice meal on the lawn. It should prove to be much cooler than dining inside.”

  Brandon looked at Laura. She smiled and gave a nod. “It really is quite pleasant,” she told him. “Father arranged to have a lovely canopy put up under the trees.”

  “I am most grateful for the invitation and would be happy to attend.”

  Mother tapped Father’s arm. “Do save further conversation for home. I am quite overcome by this heat.”

  “Of course.” Father took hold of her arm. “Do you have a mount, Captain?”

  “I do. Shall I follow your carriage to the house? Or would you prefer that I come at a later time?”

  “No, by all means accompany us. The food will be ready and waiting. I’m certain the ladies will wish to change their clothes. Perhaps you and I might rid ourselves of our coats, as well. After all, it will be a most informal luncheon.”

  “I think that would suit me quite well.”

  Laura felt a rush of pleasure at the thought of spending the afternoon with the captain. When they arrived home, Laura hurried to change to a casual pink and white gingham dress. She had always liked this gown, especially for its detachable sleeves. She also liked the way the basque waist and snug bodice showed off her slender frame. Laura glanced quickly in the mirror to check her hair. Perhaps something wonderful would come about from their misunderstanding in the alleyway. Wouldn’t that be a wondrous story to tell their children?

  “Your father and I met when he thought I was being hostile toward his troops.” She giggled and made her way downstairs as Carissa was making her way up.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked. Then with an inspecting glance she threw Laura a questioning look. “You are dressed rather fine for Sunday luncheon. Could it be due to our visitor?”

  Laura laughed. “It might be, but I would hardly call this gown fine. It’s four years old and wearing fast.”

  “Even so, you are quite pretty, sister dear.” Carissa leaned over and kissed Laura’s cheek. “I’m glad Malcolm isn’t here. Otherwise he might be tempted to rescind his proposal and pursue you instead.”

  “Hardly. Malcolm only has eyes for you,” Laura assured her, although she wasn’t at all convinced that was true. “Will he join us later?”

  “If he can,” Carissa said, her tone betraying her disappointment.

  “Let us hope so. Perhaps we can get up a game of croquet.”

  “I am sorry . . . for the way I’ve acted.”

  Surprised by her sister’s sudden declaration, Laura turned. “What are you talking about?”

  Carissa gave a sigh. “I have been rather insensitive toward you, and it wasn’t kind. You are my dearest friend in all the world, and I do not want anything to come between us—especially my marriage.”

  “Silly goose,” Laura replied, seeing the sincerity in her sister’s expression, “nothing will ever separate us. We are sisters, and as such we cannot ever be parted.”

  She left Carissa and hurried down the steps. Perhaps her little sister was finally growing up. Laura smiled at the thought and rejoined Captain Reid and her father.

  “The attack in 1862 caused many of the undecided families to clearly choose allegiance with the Confederacy,” her father was stating. Both men had discarded their jackets and now looked much more relaxed in the shade of a chittamwood tree. The small white flowers of the tree had nearly run their course, but their fragrance lingered in the air and they occasionally drifted down like snowflakes.

  The men turned to greet her, pausing only a moment to nod in acknowledgment. Laura didn’t mind that they went quickly back to their discussion; she rather enjoyed listening.

  “Of course, there were those who remained completely loyal to the Union. I was certainly not the only one who felt that secession was wrong.”

  Brandon nodded. “I’ve heard there was a stronghold of Unionists in Corpus Christi.”

  “It’s true,” Father said. “But there were also a great many who hated us. I lost many a good friend over this war.”

  “Yet you continued to support the Union,” Brandon offered almost casually.

  “It’s true,” Laura’s father replied. “I felt strongly that America should remain united. I felt that differences should be worked through on a state-by-state basis, with the good of the whole in mind. I have never truly favored slavery, although I cannot admit to fighting against it, per se. It seemed . . . well, it seemed a necessary evil. Even now, I know of friends who have lost the ability to continue farming without the help of slave labor.”

  “Perhaps then they should never have begun in the first place,” Brandon countered.

  Laura didn’t know what her father’s reaction would be, but she thought it a good place to jump in. “I suppose that the lure of profit was too strong. However, I am glad to see that we have done away with the institution of slavery. I’m certain that people will find ways to adapt. Perhaps their profits will suffer if they pay for their labor, but then again, perhaps they won’t.”

  “Not if they pass along the cost to the consumer,” Father replied. “And they will. They will have no choice. The price of cotton has already risen dramatically both from shortages and anticipated labor costs. I doubt the Northern textile mills will be quite so enthusiastic about the emancipation of slaves when they see what it will do to their production costs.”

  “Be that as it may,” Brandon said, “slavery should have no place among civilized, God-fearing people. I do not believe God ever intended us to enslave one another.”

  “I suppose I could be wrong, but the Bible does speak of slavery,” Malcolm Lowe declared as he joined the trio.

  “I see you were able to join us after all,” Laura said, giving him a nod.

  “Yes, well it’s hard to pass up an afternoon with the woman you love.” He grinned. “I do apologize for interrupting your conversation.”

  “That’s quite all right,” Brandon said. “You are correct in saying that the Bible speaks of slavery. However, I would point out that those were different times and even different kinds of slavery.” Brandon met Malcolm’s hard expression, then smiled. “I’m Captain Brandon Reid, by the way. Congratulations on your engagement.”

  Laura took Brandon’s cue to change the topic as she spied her mother and sister arriving. “Why don’t we sit? Malcolm, you can tell us about your plans for the new house. I understand from Carissa that you have ideas for adding on.”

  “I do indeed,” he said.

  “Oh, you were able to come,” Carissa said, moving quickly to take her place at Malcolm’s side.

  He patted her arm as though she were his favorite pet. “Of course, my dear. I long only to be in your presence.”

  Laura thought his words sounded forced and untrue. She couldn’t help but wonder at this man her family hardly knew. What was it about him that made her feel so uneasy?

  They made their way under the canopy to the table where Esther was placing a large bowl. The mélange of fruit looked cool and inviting, as did the platter of sliced cheeses and vegetables.

  “I’ll bring da fish shortly,” Esther told Laura’s mother.

  Mother nodded and awaited her husband’s assistance before sitting. Brandon helped Laura with her chair, while Malcolm took Carissa to sit on the opposite side of the table beside him. To Laura’s delight, that left Brandon at her side.

  Father offered a brief prayer of thanks before instructing everyone to eat. Laura handed a basket of cornbread squares and biscuits to Brandon.

  “You will find these to be some of the best in the city,” she told him.

  Brandon took one of each. “I’m betting it’s better than army food.”

  Malcolm gave a harsh laugh. “At least you Yanks had food to eat. Our boys often went hungry.”

  “If you don’t mind, Malcolm, could we please not speak of the war?” Mother asked. “I would much rather focus on the pleasant topic o
f your marriage to Carissa.”

  Carissa nodded with great enthusiasm at this. “Oh yes, let’s talk about the wedding. I want to go shopping tomorrow and see what new fabrics are available.”

  The conversation continued with Mother and Carissa mostly chattering about wedding gown fashions and the guest list. It seemed to Laura that Carissa would invite the entire town with exception of the black troops.

  “And what of you, Captain Reid?” Father asked after taking a long sip of lemonade. “Will you make the army your life’s work?”

  “No. In fact, I muster out this week,” he replied.

  Father considered this for a moment as he chewed. “Then will you head back north?”

  “Not immediately. I’m not certain that I will return. I would like to check into some possibilities here in Texas.”

  “What kind of possibilities?” Malcolm inquired.

  “Cattle and horses, mainly. I was raised on a horse breeding farm in Indiana. It is something that I’ve thought to go back to. My father is a minister, and the horse breeding was merely a side venture that proved to be quite lucrative. He could use me to run the business.”

  Her father nodded. “Our Laura is quite the horsewoman. She is a superb judge of horseflesh. Why, those two matched bays you saw pulling our carriage were chosen by her prior to the war.”

  Brandon turned to Laura. “They were exceptional, I must say. How is it that you developed such an eye for horses?”

  Laura felt flush under his praise and scrutiny. “I have loved horses since I was old enough to know what they were. I suppose that I have watched and listened as others had detailed their strengths and flaws.”

  “She’s also read every book Papa could buy on the topic,” Carissa said with a giggle. “I used to tease her about reading so much that her eyes would fall out.”

  “Guilty as charged,” Laura said, looking to Brandon. “I’m afraid that with the war going on and products and money being extremely limited, books were good friends. I probably reread my father’s entire library.”

  “I, too, find great pleasure in reading,” Brandon said.

  “Never had any time for such things myself.” Malcolm’s voice was edged with anger. “But I suppose that’s the difference between workin’ folks and the well-to-do.”

  “My family was hardly well-to-do,” Brandon said, meeting Malcolm’s sneer. “The life of a pastor’s family is one of sacrifice both in time and monetary ease. The horse breeding was a good benefit, but also a lot of work.”

  “Did you have slaves?” Carissa asked innocently.

  “Not exactly,” Brandon replied. “We had some who had escaped their situations.”

  “You took in runaways?” Malcolm asked. “That would have been against the law.”

  Brandon considered this for a moment. “My father believed we served a higher calling and that God’s law superseded man’s. We did not go south to help slaves escape, but rather once they had crossed the Ohio River, we offered them a place to stay and work. They would regain their strength with us and then move on. It was one of the most rewarding ministries I’ve ever known.”

  “That was no ministry,” Malcolm spat. “You harbored fugitives.”

  “We also buried the dead,” Brandon said, narrowing his gaze. “Many of the folks who made it to us weren’t strong enough to continue. They had been severely abused by their masters. Oftentimes they had been starved or beaten. By the time they made it to us, their bodies had simply given out.”

  “How sad,” Laura whispered, shaking her head.

  “Gentlemen,” Mother said, picking up the bowl of fruit, “that is enough serious talk for one meal. Let us speak of something more lighthearted and merry.”

  Malcolm muttered something unintelligible, but Brandon was quick to heed the request. “I would like to invite you all to attend a party that is being given in my honor the day after tomorrow. It’s being hosted by my commanding officer. It will be a most amusing evening I’m assured, with music and food and perhaps even dancing. I know the men would be delighted to see it attended by three such lovely ladies.”

  “Oh yes, Papa. May we go?” Carissa begged. She looked to Malcolm. “You would come as my escort, wouldn’t you?”

  “I’m afraid not, my dear,” Malcolm said, his gaze never leaving Brandon. “As a former Confederate—a man unable to sign the ironclad oath, I’m certain the captain’s friends would refuse my attendance.”

  “Nonsense,” Brandon replied. “It’s my party. I am entitled to invite whom I will. I would be honored to have you there, Mr. Lowe.”

  “I think it sounds like a wonderful entertainment.” Mother looked to Father. “What say you, my dear?”

  Father nodded. “I believe we could tolerate such a diversion quite easily, Mrs. Marquardt.” Laura saw her mother smile adoringly at her husband, and longed to share the same affection in her own marriage.

  If I’m to ever marry. Somehow her heart wasn’t convinced that this would ever be possible for her.

  “And what of you, Miss Marquardt?” Brandon asked, pulling Laura from her thoughts.

  “I would be honored. I believe it will be a most enjoyable evening.”

  “I am glad to hear you say so.” He turned back to her father. “What say I come here and then I can escort you to the place?”

  Father nodded. “That sounds good to me.”

  Carissa clapped her hands. “I’m so excited to have a party to look forward to. I do hope there will be dancing. Malcolm and I have never had a chance to dance together.”

  “And we won’t have one now, either.” Malcolm’s voice was terse. “As I said, I won’t be attending.”

  Laura met his fixed gaze and smiled. “We shall have to endure the evening without you then.” She could see he wasn’t at all pleased with her words, but the man was smart enough to keep his mouth closed from further protest.

  “I shall arrive for you at six.” Brandon looked at Laura. “Now I can look forward to this party. Before, it held little interest.”

  Laura couldn’t help but wonder if he was implying that her presence made it worth his interest or if he was simply grateful to have civilian friends present. Either way, she couldn’t deny that the way he looked at her caused her stomach to do somersaults.

  6

  Brandon pushed aside his feelings of apprehension as he approached the Marquardt house that Tuesday night. He had spent the day reviewing what little information the army had regarding the murder of six soldiers the previous May. The soldiers had been killed while they slept—a most heinous attack to be sure.

  There was clear evidence that the murders had been committed as an act of revenge by Confederate soldiers. Not that there had been any note declaring it such, but the letters CSA had been carved into the chest of each of the dead men. The only potential witness wasn’t even all that sure of what he’d seen. It had occurred in the wee hours of the morning, and the light was minimal at best. The man reported seeing two or three men running from the location of the murders and stated that one of the men bore a resemblance to Malcolm Lowe. Not only that, but a leather knife sheath had been found with the initials ML carved into the side. The evidence could have been planted, of course. Someone could have a vendetta against Lowe, hoping to see him wrongly accused and convicted. But Brandon seriously doubted that was the case.

  He dismounted and tied his gelding to a post before making his way to the Marquardts’ door. He gave a brief but heavy knock and waited for someone to greet him. In a few moments the door was opened by the same elderly butler he’d first met weeks ago.

  “Captain Reid,” Mr. Gaston announced as they made their way into the front sitting room.

  Laura stood as he entered and said, “Captain, it’s good to see you again.”

  “And you, Miss Marquardt.” He gave Laura a slight bow, then turned to Carissa and greeted her much the same way before his gaze went back to rest on Laura’s alluring features. What a color, he thought as he studied
her eyes. Like pale maple with glints of gold.

  She cleared her throat. “I am sorry to tell you that our parents cannot attend this evening’s festivities. Mother is feeling unwell, and Father has no desire to go without her.”

  Brandon forced himself to pull his focus from her eyes and concentrate on her announcement. “I am sorry to hear of your Mother’s illness. I pray it is nothing serious.”

  Laura nodded and looked to Carissa. “Thank you. If you are still of a mind to have company, Carissa and I will be happy to join you.”

  Brandon wanted to tell her just how pleasurable an evening in her company sounded to him, but he held his tongue. No sense in scaring her off by acting the rogue. “I will most gladly escort you. And might I say you both look lovely.”

  Carissa all but danced around the room. She gave a twirl to accentuate the cut of her powder-blue gown. The silk and lace shimmered in the lamplight as she moved. “Thank you, Captain. It has been ever so long since we attended a real party.”

  “Well, I cannot account for whether or not this party will meet your standards, but the wives of several officers have been hard at work. I believe it will be satisfactory.”

  Carissa laughed. “They could be racing dogs on the beach, and I would find it far more thrilling than any experience I’ve had of late.”

  He laughed at this. “Very well. Then I suggest we call for your carriage and be off.”

  “You will ride with us, won’t you?” Laura asked. “I mean, there is no sense in you riding your horse and having us go separately in the carriage. Give your mount a rest. You can trust our groom to see to him.”

  “That would be very nice,” Brandon replied. “I cannot find fault with that idea.”

  “Wonderful. I’ll go instruct him now.”

  Laura stepped out and when she returned after several minutes, she held a fan in one gloved hand and a small reticule in the other. “The carriage will be brought around momentarily. Would you care for some refreshment before we go, Captain?”