Mrs. Bennet may have wished for all the finery in the world, but she was as tight as any good farm wife. Her mother had been a spendthrift, and after living hand-to-mouth until her marriage, Fanny Gardiner swore she would never have to worry for money again, and she made sure of that when considering a potential husband. Tom Bennet had proved to be not only a caring companion but also a dutiful provider, and she trusted him utterly with their finances. She managed to live within her allowance, praying that Tom’s promises of a better life would come true someday.

However, this Wednesday was different, as it was left to Beth and Mary to shop for the week’s provisions. Mrs. Bennet had come down with a cold and taken to her bed at her son-in-law’s instruction. The presence of Kathy and Lily was required to wash the clothes and wait upon their mother. Beth and Mary took the wagon to the Bingleys’ to collect their sister before continuing into town.

Beth had to admit to herself that things in Texas weren’t as bad as she’d feared. It was a beautiful place. The summers could be unbearably hot, but after a lifetime of Ohio winters, she could manage with a little sweating if that meant she didn’t have to walk through knee-high snowdrifts. The wide, open plains enchanted her. She never dreamed the sky could be so wide or the land so vast. She loved to point Turner in whatever direction beckoned and just run wild.

As for adjusting to the locals, that took longer. The populace was far more diverse than Beth had ever experienced. She had never before met a slave, much less someone from Mexico. It was both exhilarating and frightening. She found the townspeople to be closed and suspicious—not open and friendly to her as in Meryton. Only Reverend Tilney was unreserved from the beginning. The Bennets’ association with George Whitehead seemed to garner only deference, not amity. But once Beth had made friends with Charlotte Lucas, the town opened up a bit more for her. Beth sometimes felt that by befriending the sheriff’s daughter, she had passed some test, and the strange, nagging feeling of unsettledness whenever she met with the townsfolk faded.

Beth and Mary were soon at the Bingleys, and once Jane had climbed onboard, Mary suggested that they go by the rectory. “Perhaps Reverend Tilney needs our assistance,” she mentioned with what she thought was a straight face. Beth nearly laughed out loud.

Jane was all that was sweet and good, but she was not as quick as Beth. “Assistance? With what? Is something wrong? Is he unwell?”

Mary blushed. “No, no! I… I just thought as he has no sister or… wife, that he may need our help in, well, umm… shopping for provisions… or something.” Beth could no longer contain her mirth, causing a mortified Mary to stutter a disavowal of her suggestion. Jane caught on and, reaching out to take the red-faced girl’s hand in hers, declared Mary’s intention to be a noble one and that the three of them should proceed at once to the church.

It turned out that the preacher was not otherwise occupied and was very grateful for the Bennets’ offer to help him restock his larder. As the church was in the center of town, the wagon was left there, and the small party strolled to Zimmerman’s General Store.

Carl Zimmerman was the son of German immigrants whose family had moved to Rosings when he was a child. He inherited the family store before the war after traveling back east to meet, marry, and bring back Helga, his wife by arranged marriage. As gregarious as he was short, the popular storekeeper had served as the mayor of Rosings for almost ten years. It was mainly a ceremonious position; his only power had been the Mayor’s Court, and that had been taken away by the occupation government. All judicial authority in Texas was now wielded by appointees, who were invariably loyal to the governor. In Long Branch County, Texas native Judge Alton Phillips was still in office only because of an advantageous switching of his political affiliation to the Republican Party.

So, except for the speech given each year on the Second of March—Texas Independence Day, the date the Republic of Texas declared its break from Santa Anna’s Mexico—Mayor Zimmerman was essentially a shopkeeper.

The ladies and gentleman entered the store only to have their ears assaulted by strong words uttered loudly. All attention was called to the long counter that bisected the room where the slight storeowner was berating a black woman wearing a light-colored dress with a blue apron, a wide-brimmed straw hat on her head.

“Now, I told you not to come in by the front door!” Zimmerman’s face was flushed with anger as he shook a finger in the woman’s face. “If you want something, come by the back door. The back door!” he emphasized by pointing with that finger.

“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again,” the woman mumbled.

“I tell you and I tell you, but you won’t listen! You understand English, eh? Understand this, Mrs. Washington—front door for whites only!”

Beth was aghast and mortified at the woman’s treatment. Allowing her eyes to escape the distressing scene, she noted a couple in a corner of the store by the front window. She was startled to see it was Mr. and Miss Darcy, both wearing disgusted expressions.

“But,” the woman addressed as Mrs. Washington stuttered, “I seen Mrs. Gomez come in here—”

“Are you back-talking me, woman?” Zimmerman demanded. “Go to the back door! If you don’t like that, maybe I don’t sell you anything, eh?”

“No, no! I need my order… got money. I… I’ll go—around back, okay?”

Just then, Tilney stepped forward. “Here, that’s enough of that!” He walked up to the pair.

Zimmerman looked up. “Eh? Reverend Tilney, what do you want?”

He ignored the shopkeeper and addressed the woman. “Mrs. Washington, how do you do?”

“Fine, Reverend Tilney, just fine.”

Zimmerman broke in. “I was just telling her that she has to go ’round back, Reverend.”

Mary could stand for no more. “And why is that?”

Before Zimmerman could respond to her, Tilney broke in. “Miss Mary! We must remember this is Mr. Zimmerman’s store, and as such, he makes the rules.” He threw a glare at the shop owner before turning to Mrs. Washington. “May I escort you around to the back, madam?”

The humiliated woman waved him off. “Oh, no, Reverend Tilney, I can find my own way. Don’t bother yourself.”

Tilney smiled. “Very well. I’ll be expecting you at church this Sunday. We haven’t seen y’all there yet.”

Mrs. Washington smiled. “Thank you kindly for the invite, but I don’t want to intrude.”

“All are welcomed in God’s house.”

She thought for a moment. “Then we’ll be there. Thank you again.” With as much dignity as she could muster, she walked out of the store.

Zimmerman was troubled. “Preacher, you’re inviting slaves to services?”

Tilney turned to him. “Are you questioning the way I run the church?”

“I am on the board committee,” Zimmerman’s brows dipped.

Just then, Darcy approached the men. “Excuse me, but I was wondering if my order was ready?” Darcy wore a completely blank expression, as if the confrontation had not occurred.

Zimmerman was all that was amiable to Rosings’s most affluent customer. “Yes, sir, Mr. Darcy. Just step this way.” Zimmerman scampered behind the counter and walked quickly to the far end. Darcy turned to follow, begging the others’ pardon once more.

“Well,” said Beth under her breath, “he’s certainly the lord and master ’round here!”

Tilney cocked one eyebrow. “He was here before us, Miss Beth. We can wait our turn.”

Mary was about to have her share of the conversation, but she was caught by the intense look on Mr. Zimmerman’s face as Darcy spoke to him. The tone was far too low for her to hear, but the effect was instantaneous. The shopkeeper almost ran to the back door, his face, if anything, redder than before.

“My mistake,” Darcy drawled to his sister, “apparently, we have a customer before us.”

The altercation had put all of them off their proposed shopping expedition. Beth and the others gathered on the front porch, taking in the town for several minutes. The front door opened, and Miss Darcy walked out followed by her brother, his arms filled with packages.

“Gaby, you wait here while I put these in the wagon,” Darcy advised. Tilney and Jane immediately walked over to keep her company while her brother finished his task, the Bennet sisters following in their wake.

“How do you do today, Miss Gaby?” Jane said. The girl exchanged greetings with everyone before discussing the weather until Darcy rejoined them.

Mary was waiting for this opportunity. “Miss Darcy! I was talking to Reverend Tilney earlier and expressed the desire to improve the church choir.”

“That sounds like a very noble undertaking, Miss Mary,” the girl said.

“Perhaps you would be interested in joining us?”

Gaby Darcy blushed. “Oh! Oh, I… I’m sorry, but I can’t. I’m not a member of the church.”

“Uhh, Mary—” Tilney began, but the girl overrode him.

“Well, that’s easily taken care of. If your brother is too busy to bring you to services, perhaps I can speak to my father. It would be no trouble for us to take you.”

“Mary!” Tilney hissed. Darcy began to frown.

Mary continued as if Tilney said nothing and turned to the rancher. “But you should go, Mr. Darcy! You need to be in church. All the money in the world won’t do you a bit of good in the afterlife if you ignore God’s words. Remember, the Good Book says, ‘It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven.’”