Hope at Dawn (4 page)

Mr. Foster set down his pen and removed a small set of keys from one of his desk drawers. “Now that we have all the information we need and you know where to find the school, here are the keys for the building and the teacherage. It’s not much more than a glorified cabin, but it is all yours, Miss Campbell.”

“So I have the job?”

He laughed. “Didn’t I say as much in my telegram?”

Livy blushed as she took the keys he handed over. Her stomach had been in knots nearly the whole three-hour wagon ride to Hilden. She feared Mr. Foster would change his mind about hiring her, despite her letters of recommendation and his desperate need for a teacher. She still couldn’t believe he’d willingly overlooked the fact she had only one year of college completed. And now she had a job—away from the farm and Robert.

“I hired a young man this morning to take care of the school maintenance, so don’t be surprised if he comes around this week.”

Livy climbed to her feet, the keys clasped tightly in her palm. “Thank you, Mr. Foster.”

“You’re most welcome.” He stood and came around his desk. “I’m glad to have the position filled. I didn’t have much in the way of replacements—not any non-German ones, at least. You can open the school as soon as you feel ready. But the sooner, the better.”

She followed him out of his office. “Certainly.”

“You may pick up your first month’s wages at the end of April.” He shook Livy’s free hand.

Livy pumped his hand several more times in gratitude. “Thank you—again.”

“Good day, Miss Campbell. Let me know if there’s anything you need.”

She gave him a genuine smile and even spared a wave for the secretary, though the woman didn’t look up from her
Ladies’ Home Journal
. As she rushed down the stairs, Livy’s smile grew into a grin. If she ran into the handsome young man whom she’d danced with on her birthday, she might have to kiss him for mentioning the job in the first place. He’d popped into her thoughts more than once the last few weeks.

Would she see him in town? she wondered, exiting the building. Her gaze swept the street as though he might suddenly appear. Livy ruefully shook her head. She had no idea where he lived.

“Did you get everything you needed, sugar?” Her father pushed away from the side of the wagon, where he’d been waiting for her.

She dangled the keys and did a little skip. “I’ve got the keys to the school and my house, and directions on how to get us there.”

“You want to head over there now?” Josiah asked as he helped her onto the wagon seat.

“I ought to purchase some food items first. Mother’s hamper will only last me so long.”

He climbed up beside her. “To the grocer’s then.”

His patience and acceptance of her plans resurrected the guilt she’d been battling the past few weeks about leaving home again. “Are you angry, Daddy?”

“For wanting to go to the grocer?”

“No.” She couldn’t help a giggle. “About me abandoning the farm.”

He scratched at his stubbled chin. “I suppose I don’t look at it that way, Livy. You saw an opportunity and seized it—something we’ve always taught you kids to do. Your mother and I only hope it’ll bring you happiness.”

She didn’t have the heart to tell him she was already happy—more so than she’d been in a year. “Allen and the boys didn’t seem too thrilled when you told them about their extra responsibilities.”

“They’ll manage. You, Joel, and Tom were doing that and more when you were younger.”

The reference to Joel and Tom eased her guilt—almost—and reminded her of the other reason she’d applied for the job. The empty chairs at the supper table at home were a constant reminder her brothers were gone and in harm’s way. Hopefully being a teacher here would keep her from worrying so much about their safety.

She sat up straighter and pocketed her keys. “I still wish you’d accept my offer to hire one of Allen’s friends to help out.” If she stretched her meals a little, she could send home a few dollars to pay for hired help. The gesture would certainly ease her conscience.

Josiah guided the horses into the street. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t accept. Why don’t we wait and see how your first month goes? Sixty-five dollars a month is a good amount, but you’ll still have to pay for food and things.”

“All right. You win—for now.” She smiled and slipped her arm beneath his as they headed toward the grocer’s.

Though the morning had dawned cold, the sun now warmed her cheeks and almost made her want to shed her hat and new jacket. With less than two weeks to get ready, Livy’s mother had expertly made over some of her old dresses for Livy’s use. The brown wool suit Livy wore today consisted of a long jacket with matching skirt and a belt. With the superintendent’s approval and her stylish outfit, she felt every bit like a real teacher.

Her gaze hopped from one store sign to the next as she looked for a grocer, until a storefront painted haphazardly in bright yellow snagged her attention.

“That’s not a very good paint job. Allen or the boys could have done better. No wonder there are no wagons waiting out front.”

Her father frowned instead of laughing as she’d expected. “I doubt it was the store owner who painted it.”

Livy cocked her head. “Why would he let someone do that? It looks awful.”

“He’s likely from Germany, sugar. His store was painted that way so everyone would know it was owned by a German.”

His words made Livy swallow hard, even as her eyes sought out the building again. Mr. Foster had told her the reasons the last teacher had been let go—how she’d been accused of being a German spy and violating the language law. Livy knew she had nothing to fear on that front. She didn’t know a single German here or back home, so she couldn’t be accused of being a German sympathizer.

What she wasn’t so confident about was her students and their families. The township school would likely be full of German children, from German parents. She might be teaching the distant relatives of those fighting against her brothers or those who’d wounded—and changed—Robert.

The reality that her new situation wasn’t completely carefree and rosy brought a sick feeling to her stomach. Her earlier excitement faded in its wake.

“You’re going to do fine, Livy.” Her father’s hand closed over hers. The confidence behind his words erased some of her nervousness. “There’s something you need to remember, though—”

The honk of an automobile horn made the horses dance toward the sidewalk, and Josiah turned his focus to soothing them. “Horses just aren’t used to those contraptions yet,” he grumbled when the team settled down. “You know, your mother wants one of them Ford touring cars.”

“But she isn’t the only one, is she?”

He shrugged, but his green eyes sparkled.

“There’s a grocer’s,” she said, pointing.

As he helped her to the curb, she realized he hadn’t finished sharing his advice.
Oh well
, Livy thought, her mind already darting ahead to what things she needed to purchase for her very own kitchen. He’d probably meant to tell her not to forget who her brothers were fighting overseas. And she wouldn’t.

Once her food staples had been stowed in the back of the wagon, along with her things from home, Livy and her father set off for the schoolhouse. Less than an hour later, much to Livy’s relief and anticipation, the teacher’s cabin and the school appeared in the distance.

The cabin sat off the road, south of the school. An outhouse had been tucked in the copse of trees behind it. Red curtains hung in the south-facing window, and the spot of color in the brownish landscape brought a smile to Livy’s face. Another hundred yards or so up the main road stood the one-room brick schoolhouse. Three large windows were visible along its side.

“What you do think?” Josiah stopped the wagon beside the cabin.

“It’s perfect,” Livy said.

He tipped his chin in the direction of the school. “Looks a little run-down. I didn’t bring any tools with me, but we could ask at one of the farms close by.”

Livy shook her head as she hopped down from the wagon seat. “Mr. Foster said he hired a young man earlier today to handle maintenance and repairs.”

Josiah joined her at the back of the wagon and hefted one of the sacks of flour as Livy grabbed her suitcase. In her eagerness, she nearly dropped her keys as she fumbled to open the cabin’s sturdy-looking door. If her father noticed the display of nerves, he didn’t comment.

Livy stepped inside the single rectangular room and felt as if she’d gone back in time, some forty years. Beneath the north window, which faced the school, sat an iron bedstead. A bureau with a mirror and a washbasin stood against the far wall next to the large pantry cupboard. The cookstove and table with its two chairs completed the kitchen area, and a fireplace flanked the wall beside the door. A good layer of dust lay over everything and the place smelled unlived in, but Livy would set it to rights in no time.

“Good thing Mama taught us how to cook on the old stove before you bought the new oven,” she said to her father. He chuckled as he set the bag of flour on the floor beside the cupboard and returned to the wagon.

Livy sat on the bed and gave it a good bounce. The padding wasn’t thick, but it seemed firm.
At least it isn’t a tick mattress
.
That would be a little too archaic.

The cabin might be small and primitive when compared to her family’s spacious, five-bedroom farmhouse with its bathroom and electricity, but this place was all hers. With the kerosene lamps from the farm’s attic and the large supply of quilts her mother had insisted she bring, Livy felt certain she could turn this place into a proper home.

“There’s a pump out back,” Josiah announced when he came back inside. “I’ll get you some water.” He found a bucket near the stove and took it outside with him.

Livy placed her suitcase next to the bed and went to help unload the wagon. When everything had been carried inside, including a full bucket of water, she surveyed the boxes littering the wood floor. “Now which one has my dishes, so we can eat lunch? I’m starving.”

Josiah peered into one. “These must be your teaching supplies. Do you want me to take them up to the school?”

“No. I’ll go over there when I’m finished organizing things here.”

She located some rags she’d brought and used one to wipe off the table and chairs while her father unpacked the contents of the hamper. To the clean table, Livy added the dishes her mother had given her. The sight of all those nice plates and cups brought a sharp sense of sorrow. She hadn’t expected to need them until she married and had a family of her own, but it hadn’t worked out that way.

Livy swallowed her sadness and forced a bright voice to say, “Time to eat.”

Her father sat down and Livy joined him at the table. How strange it felt to share a meal with only one other person. She was used to scrambling for a big helping and talking loudly to be heard. The quiet felt wrong to her ears and the amount of food unusually large.

“Think you’ll like it here, on your own?” Josiah asked, as if reading her thoughts.

“Very much,” she said with assurance, despite some of her misgivings.

“Don’t miss us too much now,” he teased, coaxing a smile from her.

“I’ll miss you all very much.”

He studied his food as he asked, “What about Robert Drake?”

“What about him?” Livy feigned interest in her own plate.

“Will you miss him, too?”

Memories of her disastrous conversation with Robert two days earlier filled Livy’s mind. He hadn’t been drunk, but he had been angry at her for accepting the job and in a different county, too. His reaction had only fueled Livy’s desire to leave—and to stay away as long as possible.

“I’ll miss spending time with him,” she finally said. At least the times when Robert had been sweet and she’d enjoyed being together.

Her father gratefully let the subject drop. They talked instead of home and their neighbor Mae Norton, who’d moved to Hilden a few years earlier, after her husband died, to live with her daughter.

“If you need anything, I’m sure Mrs. Norton would be willing to help,” Josiah reminded her as he stacked their dirty dishes.

Willing to help, yes, Livy mused, but also ready to blab to everyone else what she needed. Mrs. Norton was well known for her gift of gossip.

With lunch finished, Livy’s father stood and pushed in his chair. “I’d better start back, so I can help Allen with the evening chores.”

Livy trailed him outside. Something like homesickness rose into her throat for the first time all day. “Thank you, Daddy. For everything.”

He put his arms around her and hugged her tight. “Seems like yesterday you were runnin’ around after your older brothers, in braids and bare feet.” Releasing her, he gave her nose a playful tweak. “Now look at you. All grown up and going to be a teacher.”

The lump in her throat grew larger, preventing any words.

“Make sure you write.”

She nodded.

“I’ll try to see if I can’t get your mother up here for a visit, at least before school lets out in a few months.”

Livy forced a smile and gave him another quick hug. “Maybe I can come home for a visit, too.”

“Let me know and I’ll drive up to get you.”

He turned away, but not before Livy caught the glimmer of tears in his eyes. She felt a similar sting in her own as he unhitched the horses and climbed onto the wagon seat.

“Bye, sugar.” His voice cracked as he said the familiar nickname. Livy fought to keep her tears in check. She must appear brave and strong. This wasn’t any different than when she’d gone off to college. She hadn’t cried then, and she wouldn’t do so now.

“Bye, Daddy.” She kept her chin up.

He smiled at her feigned courage. “You take care now.”

“I will.” She lifted her hand in a wave, which he returned.

As he clucked to the horses, Livy went back inside, but she stood in the door frame and watched until her father and the wagon were specks in the distance. Some of the pleasantness of her little home seemed to go with him.

When she finally shut the door, she drew herself up and surveyed the cluttered room. “No one to share the dresser with or make noise when I’m sketching. This is going to be perfect.”