Hope at Dawn (24 page)

Could he really have stopped himself from loving Livy? He shook his head. He’d been destined to love her from the moment he’d gone over to cheer her up at the dance hall on her birthday. She was everything and more to him. As sure as the sun, he knew he would never find another girl like her. Someone who loved him back, in spite of his heritage. Someone who made him smile, made him want to conquer the world.

The thought of Livy spending even a few minutes in the cold, wretched jail tortured him. He had to get her out of there, but doing so might exact a price from his family.

Friedrick groaned in frustration. Why did everything have to come back to choosing his family or choosing to fight, this time for the girl he loved? His family had suffered enough already, but Livy wasn’t guilty of any crime.

He jerked the horses to a stop, his breathing as hard as theirs.
Think, Friedrick. Think.
Could he save Livy and his family, too? He felt for the check in his pocket. It could buy his father more medicine. Or possibly Livy’s freedom. But which should he choose? He owed his family everything, but what would life be without Livy? Even if he never saw her again, Friedrick could force himself to be content as long as she was safe.

What about Livy’s parents? he wondered. Surely they would be willing to pay bail to have Livy released, if he notified them.

Friedrick dismissed the thought. He was largely responsible for Livy’s confinement in jail, and he would figure out how to get her out.

Something tall and black, beyond the road, drew his attention. A tree trunk with a jagged top. The cause of death was evident—lightning. It reminded Friedrick of the war stories he’d heard about No Man’s Land in France, where the bodies of the dead lay among splintered pieces of torched trees. The horrific image filled him with piercing despair.

Where are You, God?
He rested his hands on his knees and put his head in his open palms.
Have You forgotten us, Thy children?

Overseas, men and boys, on both sides of the trenches, were being killed. Here at home, his life was slowly being stolen as well—his family’s savings, their language, their dignity, and now Livy.

What am I to do?

“Friedrick?”

He jerked his head up and found Maria standing beside the wagon. He hadn’t realized he’d stopped directly across the road from her farm.

“Are you all right? I saw you stop. Do you need something?”

A miracle.

“No.” He gathered the reins to drive on, but the sincere compassion on her face made him pause. The beginnings of a plan sprouted in his mind. Maybe there was something Maria could do. Friedrick nearly laughed at the irony. God certainly had a sense of humor if the solution to Friedrick’s problem was none other than Maria Schmitt.

“There is something I need you to do, Maria.” He climbed to the ground and removed the check from his pocket. “Can you borrow your family’s wagon and cash this check at the bank for me?”

Her eyebrows rose in obvious surprise, but she took the slip of paper from him. “My father took the wagon for an errand up north.”

“I’d let you borrow mine, but someone in town might recognize it.”

“Are you in trouble, Friedrick?” She frowned in concern.

Not yet anyway.
“I lost my job today and things may go badly for me and my family if I go to town.”

She eyed him for a moment, then shrugged. “I can walk. Will the bank let me cash your check?”

“The bank owner might not, but the young clerk who works there—the one who was wounded in the war—he most certainly will. Especially if you show him that dazzling smile of yours.”

“Why do I need to impress the bank clerk?” Maria asked, her lips twitching with such a smile. “Are you playing matchmaker?”

Friedrick shook his head, all traces of humor gone. There was more he needed to do before Livy might be freed. “Miss Campbell is in trouble. She was fired and taken to jail. I’m going to try to post bail for her tonight.”

“How much do you have?” She glanced at the check in her hand. “Twenty-five dollars surely won’t be enough.”

“I know.” Friedrick climbed back up onto the seat. “I’m going to try to raise more. I think some of the families around here, at least those with children at Livy’s school, might be willing to help.”

Maria stepped to the wagon, one hand curling over the side. “You’re asking us to help someone who isn’t one of our own?”

“I am.” He met her level gaze, silently pleading for her to understand. He needed her help; Livy needed their help. “Where does the bigotry end, if not now, Maria? When do we stand up against the injustice? Whether it’s for a German or an American. That’s what I am asking you and the others to do.”

She bit her lip, her eyes especially dark and vulnerable. The lack of pretense enhanced her natural beauty. Maria would make some lucky man happy, even if it wasn’t him.

“I’ll get the check cashed.” She tossed her hair and released her hold on the wagon. “You can count on it.”

Relief flooded him. Livy wasn’t free yet, but she was one step closer. “Thank you, Maria. Bring the money by this evening.”

“Anything else?”

“Pray that I can raise enough.”

To Livy’s surprise, the jail cells stood empty. Sheriff Tate opened the door to one and gestured for Livy to go inside. She stalked past him, not sure whether she felt more angry or concerned. Two cots stood on opposite sides of the cell, a dull white bedpan beneath each. A small window, covered with bars, provided meager light. Humiliation engulfed her as she sank onto one of the cots.

“How long do I have to stay?” she asked, though she feared the answer. She pulled her coat tighter around herself.

The sheriff focused on the row of stones at her back when he answered. “That all depends, Miss Campbell. If someone can post bail for you or if Mr. Foster drops the charges, then you’re free to go.”

“How much is bail?”

“A hundred dollars.”

She fingered the check in her pocket, though she knew she wouldn’t be allowed to go to the bank and cash it.

“Do you want to contact your folks?”

“They don’t have a telephone.”

“How about a telegram then?”

Did she want to tell her family she’d been branded a German sympathizer and thrown in jail? Would there be repercussions against them because she’d chosen to stand up for Friedrick and the other German-Americans? She shivered at the thought.

Despite the tears threatening to spill over, she shook her head. “No, thank you.”

“Well, maybe tomorrow. Supper’ll be around in about two hours.” Sheriff Tate gave her a look of pity and left the cell.

Livy lifted her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her long skirt. Her gaze wandered over the blank walls. Was this the cell Friedrick had stayed in for three nights? How had he managed the boredom and inactivity during the day?

What would Nora say if Livy wrote to tell her dear friend about serving time in jail? Would she be upset or would she understand Livy’s loyalty to Friedrick? More questions crowded in on themselves inside her mind. How long would she actually have to stay here? Could she request an audience with Mr. Foster and plead with him to drop the charges?

Livy squeezed her eyes shut as several tears slid down her face. Her life had once again turned to shambles. She’d left home to avoid Robert, the war, and the constant memory of her brothers. But even here, the war had found her. Now she would have to say good-bye to the people and the place that had brought her more happiness than she’d experienced in years.

A hard ache rose into her throat at the thought of never seeing her students or Friedrick again. To be denied the sight of his handsome face and the security of his touch was the cruelest of punishments—far worse than a jail sentence.

Sniffing hard, Livy opened her eyes. She noticed a dead moth sitting on the edge of the windowsill. The rest of the room had been swept free of insects and dust, but someone had missed this tiny creature. Had the moth known where it was going? Did it realize the window would never open, no matter how hard it beat its wings against the glass?

The pain in Livy’s throat deepened with empathy for this lifeless insect. Was she, too, beating against the glass of fate to think she could freely love a man of German descent? Had she truly done wrong in helping Friedrick? She didn’t feel like a traitor to her country, but she didn’t know what that was supposed to feel like. At the moment, all she felt inside was empty and cold.

Please help my fear and confusion, God.

Had she misunderstood the feeling of hope she’d felt about returning to her job after Tom’s death? Had God intended for her to remain distant friends with Friedrick and nothing more?

“I wish you were here, Tom or Joel,” she whispered to herself. “I could sure use your help.”

Memories of the two of them filled her thoughts. Tom, the tease. Joel, the sage. Friedrick reminded her a bit of both. Would they care that he was German-American when he treated her so well and loved her so fully?

A snatch of conversation, the night before Tom and Joel had left for training, returned to her memory. She’d asked Tom what he’d do if he came back from the war disfigured or blind. Did he think Nora would still have him then?

“I do,” he’d said, his face uncharacteristically serious. “Nora lives that scripture we learned as kids in Sunday school. The one that talks about how God looks on the heart and not on what we look like on the outside.”

God looketh on the heart.

Livy didn’t voice the words out loud, but they echoed through her as if someone had shouted them. Could this be the advice her father had tried to give her when she’d first come to Hilden? To look on people’s hearts, regardless of where they came from?

God didn’t see Friedrick as German or American. He saw Friedrick’s heart, just as Livy had been privileged to do. A heart full of kindness, hard work, and loyalty. If those were the qualities she’d exemplified in keeping Friedrick’s secret and nursing him back to health, then she would do it all over again.

Livy climbed to her feet and brushed the lingering tears from her cheeks. She would send a telegram to her parents tonight and request they telephone her. Surely they would agree to pay her bail, once she explained everything. Then she would find a way to pay them back every cent.

Before she could call for the sheriff, he appeared at her cell door. “You have a visitor.”

Could it be Friedrick? Livy hoped it wasn’t, though seeing him would buoy up her spirits all the more. He didn’t need to court further trouble, not after losing his job. “Who is it?”

“A Mr. Drake.”

Anger boiled inside Livy at the name. Thanks to Robert, she was in this mess. “I don’t wish to see him.”

“He told me as much but said he had some information about your folks you might want to hear.”

“My parents?” Worry challenged her anger. Had word reached her hometown already about her being friendly to German-Americans? Were her parents and siblings in any type of danger? She had to know, even if it meant talking with someone as odious as Robert. “All right, I’ll talk to him.”

Sheriff Tate left to get Robert. A few moments later he strolled into view. He came to a stop in front of her cell. “Afternoon, Livy.” He doffed his hat to her as if making a social call.

Livy took a deliberate step back from the bars. “Get to the point, Robert. What’s wrong with my parents?”

“Oh, they’re perfectly fine.” He glanced causally at his hat. “Unfortunately, I can’t inform them their daughter has been thrown in jail for being a traitor.”

Livy cringed. She didn’t want her parents hearing the story from Robert. “Why is that?”

“Because Allen is the only one home.”

Her next question came out slow and tense. “Where are my mom and dad?” She wanted to reach through the bars and shake him.

A glint of triumph lit up Robert’s black eyes as he lifted his gaze to hers. “Your mother told mine your aunt isn’t well. So your folks and the rest of your siblings took the train to go collect her and bring her back to the farm. They won’t be returning for a week.”

The news of her beloved aunt being ill barely registered in Livy’s mind before she realized the import of Robert’s last words. Her parents wouldn’t be home for a week, which meant no bail and no freedom until then. Reality buckled her knees and she stumbled back onto her cot.

“Don’t look so glum, Livy.” Robert edged closer to the cell door. “I have some good news, which ought to cheer you up.”

Livy doubted it, but she lifted her chin anyway.

“Come over here and talk to me, and I’ll tell you all about it, darling.”

The endearment grated across Livy’s skin like sandpaper. Why had she allowed herself to be so dreamy-eyed over Robert that she hadn’t seen him in a true light?

“I’ll sit, thank you.”

He shrugged, though anger momentarily clouded his face. “I’m here to strike a deal with you.”

“A deal?”

“You can be free of this place within the hour,” he said, his voice low, “and even have your job back,
if
…” How could one tiny word sound so ominous?

Wariness twisted Livy’s stomach. “If…” she repeated.

“For starters, come here so I can talk to you proper without these hideous bars blocking the view.”

A sharp retort rested on her tongue—she wouldn’t be in jail if it weren’t for him. Instead she swallowed the verbal barb. If she acted nicely, she might discover a better way out of her predicament than the fishy scheme Robert had likely concocted.

She stood and went to the cell door. Robert reached through the bars to hold her hand. Livy winced at his touch. Her wrist was still sore from where he’d gripped it so hard the night before. Had it only been less than a day since he’d shown up in Hilden and wreaked havoc on her life again?

“I told you last night I still love you, Livy. All you’ve got to do is agree to be my girl again, and you can walk out of here.” He smiled, but it no longer held the charm it once had. “I’ll let you finish up this silly teaching job and we’ll be married this summer.”

“Just like that?” she managed to ask in a calm voice, though his patronizing tone churned new anger inside her. Robert had certainly done well in carrying out his threat to her and Friedrick, concocting this entire jail scheme and making himself her potential rescuer. All because he couldn’t get another girl to love him as Livy had tried. “All charges against me would be dropped?”