Hope at Dawn (21 page)

“Would she like to come sit inside?” Livy offered. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Friedrick stop his wagon and climb down.

“I’m sure she would,” Mrs. Smithson said. She followed Livy to the school. Livy allowed herself a breath of relief, but it was premature. The woman paused outside the alcove. “Who is that man?”

Livy meant to spare Friedrick a mere glance, to avoid raising Mrs. Smithson’s suspicions, but once she looked, she couldn’t turn away. The familiar sight of him renewed the rapid thrumming of her heart. She wanted so much to cross the distance between them and rush straight into his arms.

With great effort, she cleared her throat and moved to open the school door. “He is the maintenance man,” she answered in a nonchalant tone.

“Looks rather young and healthy to be sitting out the war. Do you suppose he’s refused to enlist?”

Livy pressed her lips together in frustration and forced a deep breath to quell saying something she shouldn’t. “I believe he has a farm deferment. Something about his father being very ill.”
There
, she thought,
that ought to quiet her
.

At that moment, Friedrick noticed them standing in the alcove. His eyes went to Livy’s. She silently pleaded that he’d play along with her impartiality, though her heart begged the opposite.

“Afternoon, ladies,” he said as he carried his tools past them.

“Afternoon,” Livy repeated, her gaze following him until he disappeared around the corner of the school.

“He’s rather handsome, isn’t he?” Mrs. Smithson said as Livy led her and her daughter inside.

Livy chose not to respond.

“I don’t believe I’ve seen him in church.” Mrs. Smithson helped Emmaline into one of the desks. “What lovely drawings. Did your students do those?” She waved to the patriotic pictures adorning the windowsills.

“They did,” Livy said as she set the woman’s basket on her desk and causally walked to the drawing of Friedrick. Mrs. Smithson didn’t need to see this one. She picked it up, along with a few others, as though she were collecting them.

Friedrick appeared in the window in front of her. She glanced over her shoulder at Mrs. Smithson. The woman was occupied with examining her daughter’s scraped knee.

“Hello,” she mouthed to Friedrick. He repeated the word silently back. Livy leaned forward to place her hand against the glass. Friedrick did the same. Although the pane separated her hand from his, Livy still believed she could feel the warmth of his touch as if nothing divided them.

“Is that man German?”

Livy bit back a cry as she whirled around. Thankfully Mrs. Smithson wasn’t looking at her. She pressed a hand to her throat to still her racing heartbeat. She had to be more careful around Friedrick. The thought renewed some of her earlier fears. Would it always be like this? Stealing moments together and hoping no one saw?

What had the woman asked her? “Uh, yes, he is German-American.” Livy added emphasis to the last word, but it made little difference to Mrs. Smithson.

“Goodness, Livy.” She stood, her eyes wide with shock. “I don’t like to think of you here, alone, with someone like him.”

Someone like him?
Livy wanted to tell her she felt safer with Friedrick than any other man she’d ever met, including Robert. Emmaline whimpered right then, saving Livy from having to formulate an answer.

“I suppose we’d better get you home,” Mrs. Smithson said to her daughter. “I was hoping to visit with you longer, Livy. Maybe another time.”

“Yes. Another time.”

Livy set down the pictures in her hand and followed them to the door. As they walked out, Harlan suddenly rounded the corner, nearly colliding with Mrs. Smithson and Emmaline.

“Watch yourself, young man,” the woman snapped. She pulled Emmaline to her side as though she feared having her daughter even stand near a German-American child.

Harlan ignored her and raced up to Livy. “Miss Campbell?” He motioned for her to bend down so he could say something in her ear. Livy obeyed.

“Friedrick said he’ll stop by your cabin tonight,” he whispered, “after evening chores.”

Livy hid her smile, especially since Mrs. Smithson was watching. “That sounds like a good idea,” she told Harlan by way of an answer. The boy seemed to understand. With a nod, he rushed away.

“I think we ought to walk you to your home, Livy.” Mrs. Smithson clutched her daughter’s hand. “It would make me feel ever so much better. Does your mother know your situation here?”

By “situation,” Livy gathered she meant being surrounded by German-Americans. She chose her response carefully. “My parents are supportive of my dream to be a teacher, regardless of the potential challenges.”
More from people like you than anyone else.

“Well, that eases my mind some, but I would like to see your place before we go.”

Livy swallowed a sigh. If the woman insisted on coming to the cabin, an opportunity to talk with Friedrick this afternoon would be lost. Even if Mrs. Smithson didn’t stay long, the woman’s unexpected arrival had shaken Livy’s confidence. At least she’d see Friedrick tonight, with hopefully no more interruptions. “Let me get my things.”

She entered the school and collected her coat, lunch, and Mrs. Smithson’s basket. Friedrick was still working on the north wall. After quickly placing the drawings she’d gathered up back onto the windowsills, Livy tapped the glass to get his attention. He lifted his eyes, a silent question there.

“Tonight?” he mouthed.

She gave a vigorous nod. “Tonight,” she repeated.

Somehow she forced herself to walk away from the window, knowing she wasn’t just leaving Friedrick. She was leaving her heart behind, too.

Livy rechecked her appearance in the bureau mirror and pinched her cheeks. She’d put on her blue silk dress, as if Friedrick were picking her up for a real outing in town. For a few moments, she imagined a lovely evening out with her would-be beau, free of worries about their jobs or what others might think. Instead they had to meet here in secret as though they’d done something wrong.

She crossed to the little kitchen and laid out forks and plates beside the spice cake she’d made that afternoon. Everything was ready. She glanced at the clock on the mantel. Friedrick hadn’t been specific about the time, but with an hour or so to go until dark, she figured he’d be over soon.

To pass the time, she picked up her sketchbook. She opened it to a blank page and began filling the white space with scrawls and lines. She wasn’t entirely conscious of what she was drawing until she recognized Tom’s face in front of her. She’d drawn him in his army uniform, his face lit with a grin.

As she stared at the sketch, she waited for the intense sadness to settle over her at knowing Tom was gone. Tonight, though, it didn’t come. Instead she felt only gratitude—gratitude for having Tom in her life as long as she had.

The rumble of a car engine out front brought her head up. The room had grown dim. Livy stood and lit the lamp, throwing another look at the clock. Almost eight. Friedrick must have been held up by something at the farm, but surely he would still come.

A sudden knock at the door made her jump. She hadn’t heard Friedrick’s wagon. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and hurried to let Friedrick in.

“Fried—” The rest of his name died in her throat.

“Hi-ya, Livy.” Robert swept his hat off and flashed a smile. “Surprised to see me?”

Livy gripped the door for support. This had to be a nightmare. How had he found her? Was he drunk? “Wh-What are you doing here, Robert? I thought we agreed not to see each other anymore.”

With the use of his cane, he strode past her into the cabin. “That’s no way to treat an old beau, is it? So this is your place, huh? Not much to look at—inside or out.”

Livy bit back a retort as she frantically searched the road out front for a sign of Friedrick. Panic shortened her breathing when she realized no one else was about. She was on her own—with Robert.

Heart heavy, she shut the door and faced him. “You didn’t answer my question. What are you doing here?”

He stopped his investigation of the room long enough to throw her another smile. “I missed you, so I got it in my head to drive up here today and see how you were faring.”

“Did my…um…parents tell you where to find me?” Surely her father and mother wouldn’t have sent him. Livy had told them everything about Robert before she’d returned to Hilden—all about his drinking problems and how she’d ended things between them.

“Didn’t ask them. I knew you’d taken a job in Hilden, so I stopped by the superintendent’s house in town. Nice fellow. He told me which school was yours.” Robert crossed to the table and glanced down at her open sketchbook. “Looks like you still got time for your little drawings.”

Irritation surged inside Livy at his comment, but she tamped it down with thoughts of how quickly she could get Robert to leave. She picked up her sketch things and shoved them into one of the bureau drawers. “How are your mother and father? I didn’t get to speak to them very much while I was home.”

Robert sat uninvited in one of the chairs. He set his hat on the table and leaned his cane against his knee. “My folks are fine. They asked about you the other day.”

“That was kind.”

“’Course I didn’t have much to report, seeing as you haven’t written once.”

Livy searched his face—was he angry or resigned—but his eyes were focused on the low flames in the fireplace.

“You like it here?”

“It’s been a good experience,” she answered warily. What was his real reason for coming all this way?

He turned to look at her again. “Must get awful lonely here by yourself.”

She lifted her shoulders in a noncommittal shrug and went to add another log to the fire.

“Have you missed me at all, Livy?”

The melancholy note in his voice was meant to secure her compassion, as it had in the past. But she’d changed during her time in Hilden—she wouldn’t be so easily taken in by his calculated tone or words.

“I don’t know why you’ve even thought of me.” She gave a false laugh as she clutched the mantel tightly in her hand. “There are plenty of other girls at church for you to see.”

Robert rubbed a finger over the tabletop. “Things have been a little different since you left the other week.”

“Oh?” Alarms rang inside her head. Robert was finally getting to his true purpose for seeing her, and she knew she wasn’t going to like it.

“Mama swore she wouldn’t give me money to buy more alcohol.” His laughter came out harsh and bitter. Livy shivered at the ugly sound, even as she silently cheered Mrs. Drake for putting her foot down at last. “I haven’t touched the stuff in days. Honest. But things are no good without you around. No one else listens like you. Or understands like you.”

Livy refused to be pulled in by his persuasions or promises, but she could offer her sincere relief. She crossed the room to stand beside his chair. “I’m proud of you for giving up that awful stuff, Robert.”

“Come back, Livy,” he pleaded. “We can be married. You still love me, don’t you?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, knowing the pain her answer would cause him. Though her feelings for him had changed, she would remember with fondness the happier memories they’d made together—Robert had been her first beau, after all. But she’d learned a great deal from coming to know Friedrick. Love meant hope and respect and affection between two people. Not manipulation and constant heartache.

“I can’t. I told you that when I was home.” She opened her eyes to look at him properly. “My life is here now. I’m sorry, Robert.”

He didn’t respond right away, and the silence between them stretched on for almost a minute, tight and sharp.

“Perhaps you’d better—”

The scrape of his chair as he stood bit off her words. “I’m sorry, Livy. But I can’t accept that.” He shoved his hat on his head.

“I don’t know what you mean.” She kept her head held high, despite the cord of fear winding its way through her at his sudden change in demeanor.

“You really think I came all this way to get rebuffed a third time? I need you to come with me.” Robert gripped her wrist with his free hand. His fingers cut into her skin.

Livy’s heart leapt in terror. Did he mean to forcibly drag her back home? She wouldn’t go willingly. “Let go, Robert,” she said in an icy voice. “I’m staying here.”

“That’s where you’re mistaken.”

Despite having to use his cane, he easily hauled her toward the door. Livy tugged against his grip, but it was like struggling against steel. He set his cane against the wall, long enough to yank her coat off its peg and throw it at her. She caught it with one hand and held it to her chest as if the thin fabric could protect her.

She’d never seen him so angry, at least not when he’d been sober. The absence of alcohol had brought out all the ugliness she’d sensed ruminating inside him.

“Like I said, things aren’t going quite so well back home.” Robert glanced around the cabin, his gaze dark and wild. “Once you left this last time, word got out about…my coping skills. None of the other girls in town will talk to me. Which is why I need you, Livy. Everything will be fine once you come home.”

“I can’t just walk away from this job,” she tried reasoning. “I have to teach. My parents could use the extra money.” She gulped in a few deep breaths to try to calm her pounding heartbeat. “Why don’t you sit back down and I’ll make you some coffee?” That had helped him when he was drunk—maybe it would also help him when he was mean and sober.

“No. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us. Now open the door.”

Afraid to defy him, Livy reached past him and opened the door. Cool night air rushed in, bringing her renewed courage. Robert tightened his grasp on her hand as he started outside, but this time, Livy planted her feet and held on to the door frame. “I am not going anywhere with you. We’re through, Robert. I’m sorry if you can’t accept that, but I will not be bullied into—”

His unexpected slap sent her head reeling backward and into the edge of the door. Prickles of light danced before Livy’s gaze, and a wave of nausea rolled through her. She gingerly touched the side of her forehead. Her fingers came away wet with blood.