Hope at Dawn (13 page)

What about
your
beau?
he wanted to ask. Was this Robert fellow willing to do anything for Livy? Friedrick hoped so—she ought to be treated with the utmost respect and affection.

“He and Joel have been my greatest friends.” Livy brushed an errant piece of hair away from her face. Even her grief and pale cheeks couldn’t diminish her beauty. “They let me tag along with them and their friends, at least most days.” A ghost of a smile appeared at her mouth. “Tom often complained about me wanting to do everything he and Joel did, but he was typically the first to stand up for me.”

“He sounds like a good man. I would have liked to meet him.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Livy tensed beside him, her sorrow swooping down to blanket her again. She pulled her hand from his and returned to her wordless staring.

Friedrick ground his teeth together at his folly. He’d been presumptuous to talk with such familiarity about meeting any member of Livy’s family. She wasn’t his sweetheart. While he wouldn’t deny the strong attraction between them, something he felt certain Livy recognized, too, he could never be more than a friend to her. For her sake and his and those they loved.

The rest of the long drive passed in awkward silence. Livy had drawn into herself, perching at the far end of the wagon seat, her grief wrapped as tightly around her as her coat. She spoke twice, to give Friedrick directions about which way to go, but he couldn’t coax her into further conversation. He gave up trying after the second time, hating the helpless feeling in his gut at not being able to do more for her.

The quiet forced him to face questions he wasn’t sure he wanted the answers to. Questions like what her family would think about a German-American driving her home or how her brother’s death would change their fledgling friendship.

At last the home Livy had described appeared in the distance—a two-story, white-clapboard house and a large red barn. A wide porch extended along the front of the house, and a porch swing moved lazily in the breeze.

“There’s the farm,” Livy said, her voice lifeless.

Friedrick guided the horses into the yard and stopped the wagon beside the house to let Livy down.

“You can unhitch the horses and put them in the barn.” She chewed the inside of her cheek before adding, “You’re welcome to stay the night.”

Friedrick didn’t relish the idea of staying over, especially given the uneasiness between them, but it would do him good to get some sleep before heading back in the morning. “Thanks. I think I will.”

She turned as if to climb down, but she stopped to look back at him. “Thank you for the ride, Friedrick.”

The formality in her tone stung, but he told himself she was still in shock over the news. “Happy to do it.”

She hopped down and hurried into the house. Friedrick drove the wagon to the barn. No one else was about, which meant the family was likely gathered for supper. The realization increased the discomfort churning within him. He unhitched the horses and led them into two empty stalls. After giving them feed and water, he reluctantly crossed the empty yard to the house.

Should he knock on the front door or use the kitchen entrance? The back door seemed less conspicuous than the front. Friedrick tapped a knuckle against the door. Silence met his knock. Now what?

He pushed the door open to find the kitchen vacant. The family was near, though, judging by the murmur of voices Friedrick heard coming from the next room.

Not wanting to interrupt them in their shared sorrow, Friedrick decided to wash at the sink and return to the barn. Perhaps Livy could bring him something to eat later. As he moved toward the sink, the family’s conversation rose in volume, making it impossible to avoid overhearing.

“He’s German?” The speaker’s voice teetered on the edge of manhood, which meant it had to belong to Livy’s fifteen-year-old brother, Allen.

“German-American,” Livy corrected.

There was a self-righteous smirk, then a girl asked, “Is there a difference?”

“That’s enough,” someone cut in. Friedrick guessed it was Livy’s father. “We are not a house given to prejudice. A person is a person, no matter his or her heritage.”

“But, Pa,” Allen interjected, “it’s the Germans who shot Tom.”

Friedrick gripped the edge of the sink with one hand, anger and guilt warring inside him. He wasn’t at fault for Tom’s death, and yet he felt responsible in a way because of his parentage. One thing he knew for certain—he’d made a mistake coming inside. If he could slip back to the barn unnoticed…

Before he could make his escape, a middle-aged woman with light brown hair and an attractive face entered the kitchen. She gasped when she saw him, one hand resting against her heart. “Mr. Wagner, you startled me. We didn’t hear you come in.”

Friedrick removed his cap. “My condolences about your son, ma’am.”

“Thank you.” She appeared to sniff back tears as she went to the icebox and removed a bottle of milk. “We appreciate you driving Livy down here. That’s not a short trip. You must be starved. Why don’t you join us in the dining room? We thought we’d eat a special dinner in there tonight.”

“That’s all right, Mrs. Campbell. If you don’t mind, I’ll just wash up here and eat in the barn.”

Livy’s mother shook her head. “No, please. I insist you join us.”

Friedrick couldn’t refuse her again, no matter how much he wanted to. Not after what Livy’s family had been through today. “Thank you, ma’am.”

While she collected an extra plate and fork, Friedrick washed and dried his hands. He followed Mrs. Campbell through the kitchen door and into the dining room, wishing once more that he’d stayed put in the barn.

“Look who I found,” Livy’s mother announced as she set down his plate and fork. “I’ll go get you a glass, too.”

The open stares and frowns from Livy’s four siblings made Friedrick feel much like the peculiar beetle Harlan had once found and pinned to a board for examination. Livy shot him a weak smile, then focused her attention on the food in front of her. Clearly she felt as uncomfortable as he did.

Her father rose from his chair at the head of the table and reached out to shake Friedrick’s hand. “Mr. Wagner, I’m Josiah Campbell, and I see you’ve already met my wife, Ada. You know Livy, of course, but let me introduce the rest of our family.” He motioned to each child as he said his or her name. “This is Allen and Mary, and over here, we have George and Charlie.” Josiah sat back down and waved for Friedrick to follow suit. “Thank you for driving Livy home today. It was a welcome surprise.”

Friedrick nodded and slipped into the only empty chair, beside Mary. She gazed up at him with wary brown eyes as her mother returned with the bottle of milk and a glass she set down in front of Friedrick.

“Thank you,” he murmured. Ada dished him up a piece of fried chicken and some potato salad. She set the plate before him. Friedrick picked up his fork.

“We’ve got biscuits, too,” she said, motioning to the half-full basket in the center of the table. Friedrick added one to his plate.

“Do you only eat liberty cabbage?” George asked from his seat across the table.

Liberty cabbage
, the Americanized word for sauerkraut. “We do eat it sometimes,” Friedrick replied.

George studied him. “How come you’re not fightin’ like Joel or Tom?”

“No more questions, George,” Livy warned from her seat beside him. “Just eat your supper.”

Friedrick smiled at her in gratitude. She didn’t return the smile, but she gave him a determined look. She didn’t regard him with suspicion anymore. He concentrated on eating his meal. He still preferred Elsa’s German cooking, but the food was delicious.

The conversation around the table started up again. The family filled Livy in on the details of the upcoming memorial service and shared their favorite memories of Tom. They seemed to have forgotten Friedrick, to his relief.

The more he observed their camaraderie and listened to their stories, the more Friedrick sensed he didn’t belong here. They didn’t know what it was like to be considered an enemy to one’s country, to be forced to buy bonds they couldn’t afford, to fear losing one’s job over a careless remark. He would never fit into Livy’s world, and as hard as she’d tried, she wasn’t likely to fit into his either. Not when the Kellers and other German-Americans opposed her presence at the township school.

Anxious to be gone, he climbed to his feet. The discussion ground to a halt as all eyes turned to him. “Thank you for the wonderful supper, Mrs. Campbell. It was just what I needed.” He stepped away from the table and pushed his chair in. “If you’ll excuse me now, I’m going to head back home.”

Livy frowned as she set down her napkin. “Are you sure? You’re welcome to stay.”

Ada nodded. “It’s no imposition.”

“I ought to get back.” Friedrick didn’t want to cause offense, but his mind was made up. He had no reason to stay.

“Then we’ll say good night.” Josiah leveled a meaningful look at each of his children, reminding Friedrick of his own father when he’d been healthier. Livy’s four siblings murmured, “Good night,” before Josiah continued. “Thank you again for bringing Livy down here.”

“You’re welcome, sir.” Friedrick gathered his dishes and carried them into the kitchen. Light footsteps, he instinctively knew belonged to Livy, trailed him.

Sure enough, he turned and found her standing there. “Wouldn’t you like to rest up? It’s a long drive back, Friedrick. You won’t get home until after dark.” Her earnest expression tugged at his resolve, until he reminded himself he had no business being here. He’d helped her, and now he had to do the right thing and leave.

“I think it’s best if I head home.” He set his dishes in the sink.

She stepped closer and touched his sleeve. “I don’t under—”

A knock at the back door interrupted her. Before she could answer it, a man entered with the aid of a cane. He looked about Friedrick’s age, though he stood a few inches shorter. Friedrick guessed at once who he must be.

“Livy, you’re here already,” the man said with surprise.

Livy spun around. “Robert?”

Friedrick watched as Robert embraced Livy. She looked startled.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” Robert murmured to her. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”

Livy shut her eyes and rested her head against Robert’s shoulder. Jealousy lashed through Friedrick, sharp and hot. It had been his shoulder Livy had dozed on the other night when they’d gone to the dance hall. His arms around her when she’d heard the news of Tom’s death earlier today. But he wasn’t her source of comfort anymore.

He slipped past them and had his hand on the doorknob when Robert spoke up.

“Who’s this, Livy?”

She lifted her head and moved away from Robert, but he kept a possessive hand on her back. “He—he works on the repairs at the school where I teach and was kind enough to drive me down here today.”

Friedrick met Robert’s cold stare. He was grateful Livy hadn’t given his name—Friedrick didn’t need the wrath of a former soldier directed at him tonight.

“Thanks for bringing my girl home.” Robert pulled Livy to his side again.

His words, devoid of any real gratitude but full of aggression, grated against Friedrick’s already rising temper. The room felt suddenly too warm, too small. “Good-bye, Livy. I hope things go well on Friday.” He hoped for a parting smile or look from her, but she only nodded, her eyes trained on the floor.

Friedrick went straight to the barn and hitched up the team in record time. It wasn’t until he’d left the Campbells’ farm far behind that he felt he could breathe normally again. He didn’t regret driving Livy home or the chance to help her at a difficult time. But the long drive had come at a bigger price than time or effort. He’d been confronted with the reality of how different her life was from his own. A few weeks of knowing her didn’t change that. It was time for him to stop thinking so much about Livy Campbell.

L
ivy slipped barefoot outside, closing the front door on the hum of conversation inside the house. The parlor and dining room were still full of neighbors and friends who’d attended Tom’s memorial service at the church two hours earlier. Thankfully the porch stood devoid of any guests.

She walked to the swing and sat down, not caring if she got specks of dirt on her black dress. Tucking one leg beneath her, Livy used the toe of her other foot to push the swing into motion. A nearby tree offered some relief from the late afternoon sun.

Her gaze wandered to the stand of trees across the road, where she’d often gone exploring with Joel and Tom. The memories resurrected the ache in her throat and head. She still hadn’t cried, except for the few tears on the drive home and a few more at the memorial service this afternoon. Friedrick had told her the rest would come—at the right time.

Friedrick.
The name alone conjured up a myriad of images and emotions. She still didn’t understand why he’d left in a hurry, instead of staying over. While her siblings hadn’t exactly been welcoming, her parents had been kind, openly expressing their sincere appreciation for him driving her home.

Did they approve of her being friends with a German-American, though? Her father had pointed out they weren’t a house given to prejudice, which was evident in the way he and her mother willingly served and helped others of any nationality or creed. Still, Livy felt like a traitor for befriending someone whose relatives may very well have killed her own brother.

She gripped the front of the swing and stared at the dusty floorboards beneath her toes. Why did things have to be so mixed up in the world? Why couldn’t her brothers and Robert have stayed home, like Friedrick?
Then Tom wouldn’t have been killed and I could have finished college.

The glimpse at what life might have been didn’t bring her as much comfort as she’d hoped. Without the war, she might never have had the chance to teach. She would have likely graduated, married Robert right afterward, and never gone to Hilden. Despite the challenges there, Livy found great fulfillment in being a teacher, even if that dream would end in a few months. Then she’d be right back here—with no hope of seeing both her brothers at the war’s end.

What am I to do, God?
she asked in pleading silence.
Give up the job in Hilden to be here for Mom and Dad?
That was her role as eldest daughter, wasn’t it? She’d told herself that when she made the decision to leave college.

Should she stay and reconsider marrying Robert, despite her reservations? He’d been quite solicitous the past two days, holding her hand and getting her a plate of food this afternoon. She hadn’t detected a trace of alcohol on his breath, despite his obvious sadness at losing one of his best friends.

How she wished Joel were here to talk to—he’d always been good at helping her sort out the jumbled mess her thoughts could become.
Sort of like Friedrick.

The screen door squeaked open and Nora Lewis stepped onto the porch. Livy’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, though her good friend couldn’t know she’d been thinking about a German-American.

“May I join you?” Nora asked.

With a nod, Livy untucked her foot from beneath her and slid over to make room. Nora sat down beside her. They rocked back and forth for a minute without speaking. Livy hadn’t had a chance to talk with Nora alone since coming back to the farm.

She shot her friend a sideways glance. This pretty girl, one year older than herself, with ginger-colored hair was supposed to have been her sister-in-law.

Livy twisted on the seat to face Nora. “How are you holding up?”

“I should be asking you that question.” Her red-rimmed eyes focused on Livy.

“I keep thinking he’s just gone out to the barn, even though he’s been away from home since last year.” Livy gnawed at her cheek against the swell of emotion rising in her throat.

Nora nodded. “I feel the same.”

“What will you do?” While Livy had her other siblings and parents for support, Nora only had her folks. All of their other friends were married and she had no sisters or brothers.

“I’ll keep praying and living.” Nora played with the wrinkled handkerchief she held. “What about you? Have you enjoyed teaching?”

Livy stared at the growing buds on the tree as if they might hold the answer. “It hasn’t been as easy as I might have thought, but I thoroughly enjoy it. Except…”

“Except?” Nora prompted.

“I don’t know, Nora.” She brushed her toe against the smooth wood of the porch. “I want to keep teaching, and yet I wonder if my place is back here again. Mother and Father don’t need another child gone from home right now.”

“No.” The firmness of Nora’s tone surprised Livy. “From the few letters you’ve sent me, I can tell you’re happy there, Livy. Don’t quit the job because of Tom’s death. He, of all people…” She pressed her trembling lips together until she’d regained her composure. “He, of all people, would want you to fulfill your dream.”

“But what about you?” Livy countered. Sorrow for Nora cut through her, making her tone fiercer than she’d intended. “You and Tom had dreams, too—dreams for a life together.”

Nora gazed out at the road without responding. Chagrin filled Livy at the thought of wounding her friend any more than Nora had already been. She couldn’t imagine Nora’s pain. What would it be like to lose the man you longed to marry?

Livy shut her eyes against the awful question. A face appeared before her, but it wasn’t Robert’s. The man in her mind had blond hair and a genuine smile. She quickly opened her eyes, erasing Friedrick’s image. She couldn’t think of him now.

“I’m sorry, Nora.” Livy slid over and put her arm around her friend’s bent shoulders. “It’s hard not to dwell on the unfairness of the whole thing. But if you can be strong, then I can, too.”

“I have my moments of despair,” Nora said quietly. “But every time I think of a future without Tom, I force myself to my knees and I pray until I feel God’s peace again. It always comes.” She turned to look at Livy, her gaze as intense as her heartfelt words. “I don’t know what’s ahead for either of us, but I know God will take care of you and me, Livy. Just as he’s caring for Tom.”

Nora’s conviction brought the first stirrings of hope and peace Livy had felt since learning of Tom’s death. She would miss her brother terribly and she didn’t have all the answers about what to do with her life right now, but if Nora could trust God, then Livy would try harder to do the same.

“I think I spotted some carrot cake in the dining room before I came outside,” Livy said, standing. “You know how much Tom loved my mother’s carrot cake.”

Nora smiled, in spite of her tears. “Yes, he did.” She rose from the swing.

“Then let’s go eat two pieces each,” Livy said, linking arms with her friend. “One for us and one for Tom.”

Livy parked her family’s wagon by the Drakes’ front porch and climbed down. After looping the reins over the railing, she walked to the kitchen entrance and knocked. Robert’s mother opened the door, a dish towel in her hands.

“Why, hello, Livy.”

“Is Robert here?”

Mrs. Drake shook her head. “I don’t believe so. He mentioned going into town after supper.”

Strange
, Livy thought.
I could have sworn I saw his car in the barn.
Perhaps Robert had taken his family’s wagon instead.

“Evening, Livy,” Robert’s father called out to her in his thick British accent. He sat at the table, a newspaper between his hands.

Livy waved. “ Good evening, Mr. Drake.”

“I’ll tell Robert you stopped by.” Mrs. Drake smiled at her. “I know it wasn’t the best of circumstances that brought you back down here, but Robert’s missed you. It’s good to see the two of you together again. Will you be headed back to your job soon?”

Livy hesitated, uncertain what to say as an answer. She’d been home a week already, and although she missed her students and her cabin, she hadn’t come to any permanent conclusions about what to do. Being back at the farm hadn’t been as terrible as she’d remembered, and she felt guilty leaving her family to deal with her brother’s death without her. She and Robert had even gone to a performance at the opera house in town last Saturday and she’d had a nice time.

What would her students think if she didn’t come back, though? They’d so recently lost their last teacher. Whichever choice she made, she was letting someone down.

“I think it would be best to finish out the school year,” she finally said, “but I haven’t decided what to do after that.”

“You’re always welcome here.”

Livy smiled. “Night, Mrs. Drake.”

Robert’s mother waved good night and shut the door. Livy walked back to the wagon. In the waning light, she studied the two-story house with its gingerbread trim. Could she imagine living on the property as Robert’s wife?

Is that what I’m to do?
she prayed.

A low, plaintive noise reached her ears, interrupting her silent plea for answers. The sound seemed to be coming from the barn. Could it be a sick animal? Livy crossed the yard to investigate. Thick shadows filled the interior of the building as she walked inside. As she’d suspected, Robert’s car was parked inside—in front of the wagon. Livy’s stomach twisted at the sight of both vehicles. Robert wouldn’t have walked to town.

The cry repeated itself, softer and closer this time. It no longer sounded animal-like but human. Livy bit down on her lip against the anger fisting in her stomach. She turned toward the door, prepared to leave, when Robert spoke.

“Who’s there?” he slurred. “Whatdaya want?”

“It’s Livy, Robert. I came to see if you wanted to go for a drive or something.”

A shadow disengaged itself from the dark pile of hay in front of her. “I don’t want to.”

“Fine.” Before going to Hilden, before she’d ended things between them, Livy would have tried to coax him into coming with her so he’d stop drinking. Tonight, however, she felt too weary. Memories of finding Robert in a similar state suffocated her mind. “I’ll be by to see you tomorrow.”

She turned to go, but his next remark stopped her retreat. “Glad to see you’re over Tom’s death so fast.”

“What did you say?” She slowly spun around, her heart pumping faster.

“You heard me. Wanting to go for a drive and goin’ to the opera house last week.”

Livy ground her fingernails into the palms of her hands. “Tom loved those things. He wouldn’t want us to be sad all the time.”
Or drunk.

Robert gave a bitter laugh. “You ever seen someone blown to bits, Livy?”

“I don’t want to talk about this—”

“You ever seen men screaming in pain after a shell’s torn ’em up?”

Livy pressed her hands over her ears, trying to block out the images his words inspired. She didn’t want to imagine her brother suffering, especially in such a gruesome way.

“Stop it, Robert,” she whimpered. She couldn’t seem to command her feet to leave.

Suddenly he was standing beside her, one hand supporting his weight on the side of the wagon, the other holding his bottle. “You ever had bullets flying ’round you?” he said, loud enough she could hear through her fingers. “Had your friends mowed down while you managed to get out with just a bum leg?”

She unstopped her ears as understanding replaced her fear. “This isn’t about Tom at all, is it? It’s about
you
—and what you lost over there.”

“You don’t know nothin’.” He lifted the bottle and took a long swig. “I lost me another buddy last week.”

Something snapped inside Livy as she stared at his shadowed face. Red-hot anger seared her veins. How many times had she tried, in vain, to help him? Robert wasn’t the only one grieving.

She jerked the bottle from his grasp, whirled around, and threw it as hard as she could at the tack wall. The glass hit the wall with a satisfying
crash
and splintered into pieces.

“I lost my brother, Robert,” she cried, turning on him. “My brother! But you don’t see me or any member of my family drowning our grief in a bottle.” She took a deep breath to calm her rage. “I’m sorry for what you had to see and do over there, but I won’t tolerate this behavior any longer. We’re through. Please don’t try to contact me again.”

He snatched her wrist in his hand. “That’s what you said last time.”

Livy tipped her chin up. She wouldn’t let him frighten her. “It’s as true tonight as it was then.”

“I’ve been nothin’ but nice to you this week,” he hissed.

“Yes, but it’s not enough.” Being in Hilden, befriending someone like Friedrick, had shown her that.

Robert tightened his hold on her hand until it began to ache. “You’re makin’ a big mistake, Livy. There are plenty of girls who’ll like me as I am.”

“Then I’m happy for you. Now please let me go before I yell for your father.”

The mention of Mr. Drake did the trick, as she knew it would. Robert released her at once.

“Good-bye, Robert. Take care of yourself.” She didn’t wait for his reply. Instead she strode quickly from the barn to her wagon. Once she’d left the Drake farm behind, she forced a cleansing breath of the chilly, night air.

Thank you, God, for letting me find him that way—again.

Robert’s reaction to Tom’s death had made her decision for her. She would return to Hilden—first thing tomorrow, if her father agreed.

Her mind now made up, Livy felt the rightness of her decision but also a sense of urgency. Whether the feeling of anxiety had to do with her job or something else, she didn’t know. Either way, it was high time she went back.

Friedrick blinked as he stepped from the church into the bright sunshine outdoors. He shook hands with Pastor Schwarz—Pastor Black, as he was calling himself now. He wished he had something to say regarding the man’s sermon, but to his chagrin, Friedrick hadn’t paid much attention. He’d been thinking about a certain blond schoolteacher instead.

He’d done a poor job of keeping his resolve to rid Livy from his thoughts. All week, memories or concerns about her had entered his mind and lingered there. How was she faring? Would she return to her job soon? Would they still be friends?