Hope at Dawn (22 page)

Robert released a soft curse. “Look, Livy, I’m sorry.” His voice sounded farther away, though he still held her wrist in a vise. “I just need you to get into the car.”

She shook her head, but the movement only increased the throbbing pain. “No…please…leave me alone. I just…need…to sit…” The room had begun to spin. She couldn’t keep Robert’s stern face in focus. Would he haul her to the car once she fainted? She would be no match for him then.

Before he could drag her away, though, a familiar deep voice penetrated the fog in Livy’s head. “Let her go—now!”

F
riedrick strode toward the cabin, his hands fisted at his sides. Anger crackled along his skin. The dark trickle on Livy’s forehead brought bile to his throat. With effort, he kept his voice calm as he repeated his demand. “I said, let her go.”

Robert sneered at him without releasing Livy’s wrist. A neglected cane sat in the dirt near his boots. “You’re the fellow who drove her home the other week.”

“Yes. And now I’m here to inform you that your visit is over. I suggest you get inside that automobile of yours. Unless you need an escort.”

“Please, Robert,” Livy whispered from the doorway. “You need to leave.”

Friedrick stepped closer, ignoring Robert in his concern for Livy. In addition to the cut on her forehead, a red mark marred her cheek. A new surge of fury rose inside him. Robert had struck her.

Unable to contain his disgust any longer, Friedrick grabbed Robert by the collar and shoved him up against the door frame. “You think you’re someone important because you fought in this war?” Friedrick stuck his face close to Robert’s. “You’re nothing but a coward. A real man never strikes a lady. I ought to return the favor…” He let the threat hang in the air between them. He wouldn’t make good on it, as much as he wanted to, unless Robert threw the first punch.

“Friedrick, don’t.” Livy stumbled to a chair and sank into it, her face pale. “Just let him leave. I’ll be fine.”

Friedrick forced his fingers to let go of Robert’s shirt, then he stepped back.

“Friedrick, huh?” Robert’s eyes blazed in the lamplight spilling from the cabin. “This is why you won’t come back with me? You’ve taken up with some Boche?”

Friedrick lifted his fist partway at the ugly name, but he lowered his hand just as quickly. He needed to keep his anger in check. Ignoring Robert, he entered the cabin and walked over to Livy. “Are you all right?” he asked in a low voice.

She lifted her chin and nodded, despite the unshed tears glistening in her eyes.

“We need to wash that cut.” He searched the room for a towel.

“A German!” Robert still sputtered from his spot in the doorway. “You throw me off for a German? Never thought of you as a traitor, Olivia Campbell.”

Friedrick rose to his feet and glared at the man. Robert didn’t look or act drunk, which likely made him all the more dangerous tonight. “You’ve said your piece. Now get out before I have to throw you out.”

Robert drew himself up to his full height—several inches shorter than Friedrick. “Why don’t you, Boche? You call me cowardly, but you’re not fighting in this war. What’s the matter? Too afraid?”

The anger Friedrick had managed to assuage for a few moments boiled up with new energy. His pulse throbbed hot and hard in his neck, and his jaw tightened.

“Or maybe you’re collaborating with your little buddies overseas. Is that it?” The unmasked hate in Robert’s eyes as he spoke matched the feeling searing Friedrick’s throat.

He fought the voice in his head screaming for him to pummel Robert, and instead he walked calmly to the door. He wouldn’t strike an injured man, no matter the poison seeping from Robert’s mouth. “It’s time for you to go—now.”

Robert’s punch hit Friedrick square in the jaw, radiating pain through his head. Friedrick stumbled back. He heard Livy gasp.

“You’re wrong if you think I’m gonna leave now,” Robert snarled. “For all I know, you might be waiting around to take advantage of Livy. Just like your soldier buddies over there in Germany. A good citizen like me has to protect our women from vicious brutes like—”

Friedrick rammed his shoulder into Robert’s midsection, dropping them both to the ground outside the cabin. The impact stung his arm and leg, but Friedrick scrambled up quickly enough to avoid Robert’s flying foot. He blocked the doorway to keep the man from entering a second time.

“Get going,” Friedrick hissed through clenched teeth. He scooped up Robert’s cane from off the ground and tossed it at the man’s feet.

Robert used the cane to rise slowly. “You”—he pointed at Friedrick—“will regret this. You, too, Livy,” he hollered. Friedrick sensed her standing behind him. Robert shot a final look of loathing at Friedrick before he limped to his automobile and cranked the engine.

Friedrick didn’t wait for him to climb inside the vehicle. Instead he shut the door and led Livy back to her chair. She collapsed into it with a soft cry. One hand rose to cover her mouth as she leaned her elbow on the table.

The sight of Livy so despondent destroyed the last remnants of his fury, replacing it with guilt. Always guilt. If only he’d finished the evening chores sooner, he would have been here when Robert had first arrived. Then the man wouldn’t have hurt Livy—again.

“He’s gone now,” Friedrick offered lamely. What could he say or do to make things better for her? “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to come sooner.” He put his hand on her shoulder and felt her shaking.

Livy stood and buried her head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. Her quiet sobs flooded out onto his shirt as he stroked her soft hair and murmured reassurances in her ear.

Several minutes later she eased away from him. “I got your shirt wet.” She touched the water mark near his shoulder.

Friedrick didn’t even spare a glance at it. “It’ll dry. How’s your forehead?”

Livy fingered it. “A little sore.”

“Let me clean it up before I go.” Friedrick located a towel and dipped a corner of it in the water pot on the stove. “Sit down.”

When she complied, Friedrick knelt in front of her and gently dabbed the rag to the cut. His careful ministrations washed the dried blood from her forehead. His gaze kept straying to Livy’s large, green eyes and her kissable mouth pursed in concentration. He wanted to taste her lips again as he had yesterday, but he knew the impropriety of doing so with the two of them alone in her cabin. Still, he drew out the simple task of caring for her for the chance to stare into her pretty face a little longer.

Digging deep for resolve, he lowered the rag and sat back on his heels. “It doesn’t look deep. I think it should be fine in a day or two. What will you tell the children tomorrow at school?”

“That I walked into a door?”

Friedrick gave a humorless laugh. “That might work.”

“Do you think he’ll make good on his threat?” she asked.

“I don’t think there’s much he can do.”

“I didn’t expect him. I opened the door, thinking it was you. If he’d just stayed away.” She reached for Friedrick’s hand and locked her fingers in his. “You look a little worse for the wear, too.”

Friedrick rubbed his jaw. “That former beau of yours has a solid right jab.” As he watched Livy, an idea formed in his mind, a way to salvage the evening and bring a smile to her face. “In fact, I think my jaw needs some doctoring.” He feigned a pained expression.

A knowing glint entered her eyes. “I see. How about this?” She leaned forward and whispered a kiss against his jaw. He fought a grin—his plan had worked. “Any better?”

“Some, but it hurts here, too.” He pointed to his chin.

She placed a kiss near his mouth, as she’d done the night they’d gone to the dance hall. “Better now?”

“Sort of. Except I think my lip hurts the worst.”

“Your lip looks fine to me.”

“I know, but the hurt’s deeper.” His words, meant to tease, changed the air in the room from playful to serious. How could he let Livy go, even for the sake of his family? He loved her, plain and simple. With her, he felt like a hero—a man of worth and courage.

Livy bent toward him and pressed her lips to his. Friedrick gently held her neck with one hand and kissed her back for several long, glorious moments. Moments in which everything and everyone outside the cabin faded into unimportance. He had to call on every ounce of willpower to release her and climb to his feet.

“I’d better go. It won’t look good if I leave too late.”

Livy stood as well. “Thank you, Friedrick. If you hadn’t come…” She visibly swallowed.

He brushed a finger over her mouth. “Promise me you’ll keep the door locked. Don’t open it unless you know who it is first.”

“I promise.”

He placed a chaste kiss on her forehead and moved to the door.

“Friedrick?”

He turned around.

“What was the reason you wanted to meet tonight?”

Reality crashed into him as swiftly and hard as Robert’s fist. How could he tell her he’d come to end things between them?

“I wanted to see you,” he said with complete honesty. “Out from under the scrutinizing eyes of people like that woman today.”

She nodded, seeming to accept his answer. “I’m glad you did.”

Friedrick opened the door. “I thought I’d drive into town and pick up my paycheck tomorrow.” With everything that had happened the past few weeks, he still hadn’t gone into town to collect it. “Have you picked up yours yet?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll get it, if I’m allowed.”

“Thank you.” She rewarded him with the genuine smile he’d been hoping to coax from her.

“See you tomorrow, Livy.”

“Good night, Friedrick.”

He took another long look at her, then pulled the door shut behind him. Once he heard the lock click into place, he walked to where he’d parked his wagon beside the school. Above him the stars shone in a clear sky. Surely God hadn’t placed Livy in his life, only to pull her right back out of it. She was the only woman who saw him as more than German or American—the one person who made each day richer, happier, more hopeful.

The opposition raining down on their heads had likely just begun, if they chose to remain together. But Friedrick wouldn’t give Livy up without a fight. Somehow he would find a way to save his family and be free to love Livy, too.

Friedrick parked his wagon outside the brick building that housed the superintendent’s office. The midmorning sun felt almost hot against his back.

Whistling to himself, he opened the door and stepped inside. He’d walked into this same building nearly two months ago, and yet so much had happened in that time, most importantly meeting Livy again.

He ascended the stairs to the second floor. Down the short hall, Mr. Foster’s secretary sat at her desk outside the man’s office, reading a magazine. Seeing her again reminded Friedrick of their encounter in front of the Hilden jail. His good mood faded at the memory. She obviously hadn’t said anything to the superintendent yet, but seeing Friedrick might spark remembrance and action.

Friedrick paused, throwing a glance at the stairs behind him. If he left, he’d return to his family empty-handed. If he stayed, he might lose his job. He risked something either way.

But at least I’d be compensated for my recent work.

He removed his cap and strode up to her desk. “Is Mr. Foster in?” he asked in a confident tone.

“Not right now,” the secretary said without looking up. “Come back at four.”

“I need to pick up my paycheck. I’m Friedrick Wagner. The maintenance man at Township School Number 1.”

The magazine slowly fell away from her face, revealing wide eyes and an almost frightened expression. “Uh…yes. I can…um…get that for you.”

Friedrick watched as she sifted through one of the desk drawers. Her peculiar reaction to his appearance left him unsettled. She seemed to remember him, and yet he couldn’t reason why she would act afraid of him. The secretary removed a slip of paper and handed it to him.

“Thank you.” He folded the check and placed it in his shirt pocket. “Is it possible I could collect Miss Campbell’s, too? She’s the teacher there, but she doesn’t have a wagon or a car to get into town. She gave me permission to pick hers up as well.”

The secretary shook her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t give you hers. Mr. Foster will be delivering it himself. He would’ve taken yours, too, but he wasn’t sure if you’d be working at the school today.”

“Is he coming up for a visit then?”

She ducked her head, her next words directed at her lap. “You could say that,” she muttered.

Friedrick frowned—the woman acted as if she was hiding something, but he couldn’t figure out what. Still, he had his check and she didn’t seem inclined to bring up seeing him at the jail. “Thanks again,” he said and turned to leave.

“Just a moment.”

He faced her again, both curious and wary about what else she might say.

“There’s something I need to tell you.” The woman stood and came around the side of the desk. She glanced past Friedrick, down the hallway, before lowering her voice. “A man came in here today. He spent a long time in Mr. Foster’s office. I wouldn’t have paid the two of them any mind, but I heard him relay to Mr. Foster how he’d been to talk to the sheriff. Seems he was upset about a certain German striking a former, wounded solider.”

Friedrick managed a nonchalant expression, though he ground his teeth together. He could easily guess who the man in Mr. Foster’s office had been. Robert had made good on his threat after all—and exaggerated his tale in doing so.

“Did he say anything else?” Friedrick pressed. He had to know the details if he wanted to protect Livy.

“They both piped down after that, so I didn’t hear anymore. After the man left, though, Foster came out grumbling about having to find another maintenance man and likely a new teacher, too.”

Friedrick’s jaw went slack as he stared at her. He—and possibly Livy—were being fired? It had come to this already. “What reason did he give for letting me go?” He didn’t bother to disguise his frustrated tone.

The secretary glanced down at her hands. “I didn’t ask, and he didn’t say. I’m sorry.”

Friedrick could only surmise Robert had found out about his jail stay and had informed Mr. Foster. Or shared a colorful version of the truth regarding Friedrick’s relationship with Livy. “Was this man tall with dark hair? Walks with a cane?”

“Yes, a Mr. Drake.”

Jamming his cap on his head, Friedrick paced away from her. “What does Mr. Foster plan to do at his visit to the school? Inform me I’ve been fired and tell Miss Campbell she might be as well?”

“I suppose.” He caught her apologetic look as he retraced his steps to her desk. “I think he wants to see where Miss Campbell’s loyalties truly lie. If she proves to be American enough for him, she’ll keep her job.”