Hope at Dawn (26 page)

“Where’s Livy?” Friedrick demanded of Robert, dispensing with any false pleasantries.

“Gone home.” The man’s voice carried with resolve, though his gaze flicked away as he spoke. “She told me she doesn’t want anything more to do with you, Boche.”

The insult cut less than the knowledge Livy might have left Hilden without saying good-bye, if there was any truth to Robert’s assertion. Some of Friedrick’s determination slipped at the thought of never seeing Livy again, until he reminded himself there were others he loved who needed his protection.

“What are you here for?” he asked Joe, his voice hard. It was time to show these men he wouldn’t be bullied, as Peter Hoffman had done.

“Mr. Drake says you’re not supportin’ your country enough, son. Striking injured soldiers, swaying that schoolteacher toward the Germans, not enlisting. As the leader of Hilden’s vigilance committee, this concerns me.”

“We bought a hundred-dollar liberty bond in this last drive, as you may well remember.” Friedrick took a deliberate step forward, forcing Joe and Robert back.

“Be that as it may,” Joe said, “we’re gonna need another show of loyalty tonight. Ain’t that right, fellas?”

The mob murmured agreement.

“I’d say it’s time for you to enlist, Boche.” Robert laughed smugly. “No more hiding behind this farm deferment.”

“No.”

The word tasted sweet on Friedrick’s tongue, fueling him with greater courage. He wouldn’t bow to their whims and leave his family to fend for themselves. Even if he had to hide his parents and siblings in the barn every week until the war ended or swing at the end of a rope tonight, he would hold fast to what was right and decent. This was his time to stand and speak—he felt it in every muscle and bone of his body. His moment had come.

“No,” he repeated with more force. “My loyalties have and always will be to this country, but I won’t leave my dying father or my family.” He marched another step forward. The adrenaline coursing through him almost made him dizzy. “I’ll ask you to take your leave—now.”

For one tense moment Friedrick knew victory as the mob stared up at him with stunned expressions. Joe recovered first and tipped his head at Robert. They started down the steps as if to leave, but they swung back and seized both of Friedrick’s arms.

“Bring the bucket,” Joe hollered.

Friedrick struggled to be free of Joe and Robert, but they dragged him off the porch and through the crowd. Someone kicked Friedrick’s legs and he fell forward. His knees slammed into the hard ground, but he clenched his teeth against a cry of pain. A viselike hand pressed his head to the ground, while someone else tore his shirt from his back. The taste of dirt filled his mouth.

The pressure on the back of his head ceased as something warm and sticky oozed onto his hair and down his neck. The smell of roofing tar assaulted Friedrick’s nose and he coughed. He shut his eyes tight to save them from the thick liquid.

“Cover him up, Joe,” a man yelled.

Tar spilled over Friedrick’s back and pant legs. He kept his head down to keep his face clear and lessen the suffocating feeling creeping over him.
Just breathe.

“Bring the feathers,” Joe called out to someone.

Tiny pieces of fluff landed against Friedrick’s nose and eyes. They made him sneeze and resurrected his cough.

“Change your mind yet, Boche?” Robert sneered above him.

“No,” Friedrick croaked out.

“Then maybe this will,” Joe said. “Luke, light the barn.”

Friedrick opened his eyes to mere slits, but it was enough to see a man disengage from the mob and head toward the barn with his torch.

“Stop!” Friedrick screamed.

He lumbered to his feet, but the men held him back. He watched in horror as one corner of the barn caught the lick of the torch flame. The whole building would be gone in minutes, with his family trapped inside.

Within seconds, the fire jumped upward another two feet. Friedrick stopped his resisting and waited for the men’s attention to be focused on the fire. When he was certain they were no longer paying him heed, he sprang forward. The men scrambled to grab him, but Friedrick broke free from their grasp this time.

He ran pell-mell toward the barn, intent on saving his family, when a single shot rang out.

F
riedrick tripped and went down hard, the breath leaving his lungs. Had they shot him? He felt no pain. He rushed to his knees as a voice from behind shouted, “Friedrick!”

Livy?
He whirled around. She hadn’t left after all. Seeing her sprint toward him made the horrors of the last few minutes more bearable. Behind her, Sheriff Tate stood with his gun aimed at the sky.

“Livy, stay back,” Friedrick cried as he lumbered to his feet. He needed her as far away from the mob and the fire as possible. He wanted nothing more than to crush her to him and never let go, but his family was in danger.

To his relief, Livy obeyed, stopping a few feet from him. “What did they do to you?” Her eyes were wide with fear.

“It doesn’t matter. Just promise me you’ll stay here, no matter what.”

She visibly swallowed. “All right, Friedrick.”

“Good.” He hollered to the sheriff, “There are people in the barn. We have to get them out.”

Livy gasped. “You don’t mean…” She covered her mouth with her hand, unable to finish.

“We’ll save them, Livy.” He wouldn’t lose his family, not when he’d finally stood up for them. Let the mob exact whatever punishment they wanted from him, but he wouldn’t allow them to harm his family.

As Sheriff Tate began barking orders, Friedrick ran to the burning barn. Dr. Miller appeared at his heels. Together they jerked opened the barn doors. Smoke poured outward, along with a wave of heat that hit Friedrick square in the chest. His eyes watered and he paused long enough to wipe them. Above him in the loft, Greta could be heard crying. Hoarse coughs mingled with her tearful cries.

“They’re in the loft!” Friedrick yelled to the doctor.

He raced toward the hayloft, keeping low to avoid the smoke and the flames climbing the nearest wall. Reaching the ladder first, Friedrick climbed upward and pulled his body over the lip of the loft. Greta screamed in fright.

“It’s me, Greta.” Friedrick held his hands up. “It’s only me.”

Elsa looked on the verge of fainting. “Is—is that blood, Friedrick?”

“It is tar and feathers,” Dr. Miller hurried to explain as he topped the ladder. “We must get you out. Greta and Elsa first.”

“Take them through the side door,” Friedrick instructed. He helped his sister and Elsa to the ladder. “Harlan, you’re next.”

Harlan, his face white beneath a sheen of sweat, followed his mother down the ladder. Friedrick turned to his father, who leaned against the back wall, coughing. The smoke had thickened in only a few minutes.

“Come on, Papa. Your turn.”

“No, Friedrick,” he said in German. “You saw how difficult it was for me to climb the ladder. It will take too long for us both to escape. Leave me.”

“Never.” Friedrick lifted his father—saving his life was more important than sparing Heinrich’s clothes from the tar—and set him at the edge of the loft. “Climb onto my back.” His father’s frail arms wound around his neck, his hold almost as light as the feathers spread over Friedrick.

Friedrick twisted slowly and found his footing on the ladder. He inched his way down, one rung at a time. His eyes burned from the smoke until he shut them. He would have to climb down blind.

The acrid smell of the burning barn filled his nose and lungs. He coughed in protest. Something hot singed his arm and Friedrick flinched with the pain.

“I am slipping, Friedrick,” his father whispered in his ear.

“Just a little farther.”
Please, God.

His neck and arms strained under the additional weight, but Friedrick continued his descent. At last his boots struck the floor. He opened his eyes to locate the side door, but the smoke obscured his view. Alarm coated his throat. Would his life and his father’s end here? Had his stand against injustice been his last? He hadn’t even told Livy he loved her.

“Follow me.” Dr. Miller’s voice sounded every bit as heavenly and God-sent as an angel’s.

Fresh strength coursed through him. Friedrick hoisted his father higher unto his back and hurried after the doctor. Several heartbeats later, he burst into the cool darkness outside. Friedrick carefully lowered Heinrich to the ground and sank beside him. He gulped in great lungfuls of fresh air.

“Friedrick!” Greta ran to him, Harlan right behind her. The two of them threw their arms around him, nearly knocking Friedrick to the ground. He embraced them for a long moment, then gently eased them back. “We need to put out that fire.”

Livy joined them. “The sheriff has Robert and the others doing that.”

Friedrick stared unabashedly at her, her hair and face lit by the light from the fire. She couldn’t be more beautiful, both inside and out. He’d never loved another person as he did her. He lifted his hand with a sudden need to touch her.

Livy locked her fingers in his and squeezed them tightly. “You’re all right?” she asked. Her gaze roamed over him as if assuring herself he had no bleeding wound or broken limbs.

“I’m fine.” Friedrick gave her hand a gentle squeeze in return. “Or I will be once I get this tar off.” He longed to kiss her lips, hold her close, and promise never to leave her side again, but there were other things and people to tend to first, like his father.

Seeing Elsa help Heinrich to his feet, Friedrick released Livy’s hand to stand as well. He might not be able to show her at this moment that he loved her, but he wouldn’t waste the next opportunity.

He bent close to her ear and whispered, “Promise me you won’t leave before we talk?” A shiver ran through her, which Friedrick suspected had nothing to do with the chill air. He smiled at the realization as Livy nodded agreement.

“I won’t.”

Friedrick managed to turn away from those luminous, deep eyes, to take Elsa’s place beside his father. He helped Heinrich toward the house, while Harlan dashed ahead and opened the kitchen door. Friedrick carried his father inside and gently sat him on his bed. Elsa began pulling clean clothes from the bureau.

“You rest, Papa. I’ll see to things outside.”

Heinrich motioned for him to lean down. Friedrick obeyed. “You have made me proud, son.” His voice came out hoarse but firm. “You fought for us tonight and that is worth more to me than seeing you in uniform.”

Elsa murmured a quiet “Amen.”

Tears blurred Friedrick’s vision at his father’s praise. It pierced his heart, bringing an overwhelming feeling of love and approval. He swallowed to keep the tears at bay as he slipped from the room to let his father change. Maria met him in the hallway.

“I ought to get back home.”

“Thank you, Maria. For everything you did tonight.”

She went up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “You’re welcome. Good-bye, Friedrick.”

He knew her farewell held more meaning than simply bidding him good night. Maria was ready to find happiness, with someone else.

After ensuring she had someone to walk her home, Friedrick went to the kitchen. Livy sat reading to Harlan and Greta at the table. The fear had ebbed from their faces, much to Friedrick’s relief.

Livy glanced up long enough to exchange a smile with him before she continued reading. Harlan and Greta listened with rapt attention, their chairs pulled close to hers. Her presence in the kitchen felt natural and right. Perhaps he’d been wrong about her not fitting into his family. Friedrick squelched the desire to order his siblings to leave the room so he could snatch a few moments alone with her.

Elsa bustled into the room behind him. “Sit,” she commanded in English. “We clean you off.”

Friedrick took a seat at the table and submitted himself to Elsa’s ministrations. The tar clung stubbornly to his skin and hair as Elsa attempted to pick off the dried bits. His forehead, neck, and back soon felt raw.

“Go change,” Elsa directed. “We finish later.”

Friedrick trudged up the stairs to his room. From his window he spotted several of their neighbors standing near the charred, smoking barn. Thankfully he’d stowed the horses in one of the fields and parked the wagon behind the house for safekeeping. He gingerly pulled on a clean shirt, changed his pants, and gathered his soiled clothes into a bundle.

The events of the night slid through his mind and filled his body with bone-weary exhaustion. He sank onto his bed, too tired to take another step. Bowing his head, he thanked God for his safety and that of his family. Pastor Schwarz, Peter Hoffmann, and his father had been right all along. God had not forgotten them. He had given Friedrick the strength to endure his darkest hour before the dawn.

“Friedrick, the sheriff wants to talk to us,” Elsa called up the stairs. “We’ll be in the parlor.”

Friedrick brushed at the moisture that had resurfaced in his eyes and took a steadying breath. “I’m coming,” he answered loudly. After dropping his tar-covered clothes inside the kitchen, he proceeded to the parlor.

The sheriff balanced on the edge of the armchair, looking uncomfortable. Elsa sat in her customary rocker with Greta at her feet, while Livy shared the sofa with Harlan. Friedrick took the empty spot next to her. He linked his hand with hers and rested it on his knee for all to see. It was time to let his family know this was the woman he intended to make his wife.

Sheriff Tate cleared his throat and glanced at Elsa. “I’m sorry, ma’am, for what happened here tonight. I assure you, Mr. Drake and Joe Hilly will not be bothering you again.”

“How can you be sure?” Friedrick pressed.

“Because he and Joe will be cooling off in the jail tonight. I also told Mr. Drake if I catch him in town after tomorrow, he’ll get the chance to experience a little tar and feathering himself.” The sheriff sat up straighter. “Joe and his friends are welcome to similar consequences if they disturb the peace again or threaten violence against innocent women and children. I don’t care if they are the vigilance committee in this town. I’m in charge of issuing the law around here.

“There is one other thing.” He removed a wad of cash from his pocket. “I don’t feel right accepting this. Not after what I’ve seen here tonight. Will you see this gets back to the people it belongs to?”

“I will.” Friedrick accepted the money from the sheriff. He noticed Elsa wiping tears from her eyes. A similar feeling of gratitude washed over him. With the money from his paycheck, they’d be able to buy his father’s medicine after all.

“Are we both still out of a job?” Livy asked Sheriff Tate.

The man stood, hat in hand. “If it’s up to me, no. I’ll work on Foster to drop the charges against you and give you back your jobs. In the meantime, I arranged to have one of the neighbors drive you back to your cabin, Miss Campbell. You have my permission to stay there until your position is worked out.” He put on his hat and tipped the brim at Elsa. “Good night, folks.”

Livy rose slowly. “Good night, everyone.” Her gaze lingered on Friedrick. There’d been no time alone for them yet, but Friedrick was determined to snatch a few minutes.

“I’ll walk you out.” He trailed Livy and the sheriff outside. At the bottom of the steps, he took Livy’s hand in his and led her around the side of the house.

Friedrick brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and cupped her beautiful face with his free hand. “Robert said you went home.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb.

Livy shut her eyes and leaned into his touch. “He lied,” she murmured.

“So I see. How did you know he was coming here?”

“He threatened to do something when I refused him—yet again—while I was in jail.” She opened her eyes and gazed earnestly at him. “Thank you for helping me get released, Friedrick. I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner, to warn you about Robert. When I think what might have happened…” A shudder ran through her.

Friedrick drew her into his arms. She placed her head on his chest, while he rested his chin on her hair. How perfectly she fit against him. “Your timing was God-sent, Livy. I can’t thank you enough for getting the sheriff and Dr. Miller here when you did.” He pressed his lips to her hair. “Is that the only reason you stuck around after getting released?”

“No,” she whispered. She lifted her head to look at him, her green eyes full of the same adoration and longing filling Friedrick’s heart at that moment. “I stayed because…” She swallowed. “Well, because I love you, Friedrick. I know my family, or at least my siblings, weren’t the kindest when you visited, but I believe they’ll change their minds. That is, if you think you might…might love me back.” She began chewing on the inside of her cheek in that unique, nervous way of hers.

“There’s no ‘might’ about it.” Friedrick reached up to hold her face between his hands and stop her worrying. “My love is fully and completely yours.”

“Really?” Tears swam in her eyes.

He nodded, then bent forward to kiss each of her trembling eyelids.

Sunrise was still hours off, but Friedrick felt as though the sun were ablaze inside him. Not only had God paved the way for him to protect his family, but He had also brought Livy into Friedrick’s life—a girl of spunk and compassion whose heart was his, to safeguard and cherish.

“Don’t worry about your family. The only acceptance I need is yours, Livy. That is sufficient enough for me, for this lifetime and beyond.” He eyed her lovely lips. “‘Come kiss me, sweet and twenty,’” he quoted in a low voice.

“
Twelfth Night
,” she said, her mouth lifting in a smile.

Friedrick chuckled. “You read it?”

“Out loud. While you were sick.”

The remembrance of all she’d done for him, both tonight and while he lay at death’s door, filled him with a surge of gratitude. Friedrick brought his mouth to hers and kissed her fervently.

How sweet indeed
, he thought with a grin when he eased back.

“I guess I’d better go.” She didn’t make a move to leave, though. “What will we do if Mr. Foster won’t give me my job back?”

Friedrick ran his thumb over the smooth planes of her lips—he couldn’t wait for the day when they wouldn’t have to part company. When they could hold each other and kiss to their hearts’ content. “Your parents’ farm is only a few hours’ drive from here. One I’m willing to make, as often as needed.”