The Dawn of a Dream (26 page)

The end of the hour came all too soon. The proctor swept through the room gathering examinations. With reluctance, Luellen surrendered her papers. She needed more time to review her answers.

“Wait here, please, while I grade your work,” Mrs. Hale said to the group at large. “I have schedules for each of you if you pass.”

Luellen leaned back in her chair and picked at a snag on one fingernail. The muscles in her shoulders twitched. She’d gambled by returning to Allenwood with no assurance that she’d be admitted for the final term.

What if she lost?

Luellen climbed the back steps of Mrs. Garmon’s house and knocked.

No response.

She knocked again, louder this time.

After a long moment the door opened and a querulous voice asked, “Who are you?”

Luellen’s gaze dropped to a tiny woman leaning on a cane. Her white hair was arranged in an elaborate coiffure and glittering rings encrusted the bent fingers. Her mouth turned down at the corners.

“I’m Luellen McGarvie. Leah Holcomb is caring for my son.” Her voice faltered. “Where is she?”

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be answering the door now, would I?”

Luellen’s heart lurched. “She’s not here?”

“Of course she’s not here. Are you deaf? I just said I didn’t know where she was.”

She sagged against the porch railing. “But I thought she worked here. Are you Mrs. Garmon?”

“She does and I am. But she’s free to come and go when I have no tasks for her—as long as my meals are served on time.” The woman squinted up at Luellen, her face a map of wrinkles. “I expect she’ll be along.”

“She’s got my son. I can’t just sit.”

“Up to you. You can run all over town, or you can wait here ’til she comes back. Makes no difference to me.” She turned from the doorway and waved her free hand in the direction of the kitchen table. “Have a chair. I’m going back to my reading, and I won’t welcome another interruption.”

Dry-mouthed, Luellen shook her head. “I’d rather stay outside and watch the street.”

“As you please.” Mrs. Garmon headed for the connecting door, her black taffeta skirt brushing the floor behind her.

After she disappeared, Luellen reconsidered and stepped inside. Maybe Leah decided to nap while the children slept and didn’t hear her knock.

She tiptoed to the doorway of the back room. No Leah. The crib stood empty. How far could the woman go carrying two babies? And why would she leave? Luellen retreated to the porch and tried to rein in her racing thoughts. First she’d check the boardwalk along College Avenue. Perhaps Leah had a friend nearby and had gone for a visit.

Dry leaves shattered beneath her boots as she retraced her steps to the street. Near the campus she saw a group of people walking in the direction of the chapel. At the other end of the block, a man wearing a straw hat raked leaves into a pile. A current of autumn flowed beneath the sun’s warmth, chilling her.
Where’s my son?

She heard creaking behind the house and spun around. Leah came into view, pulling a long-handled wagon.

Luellen flew toward the alley, the pounding of her heart choking her. “David?”

“He’s right here.” Leah stopped the wagon next to the carriage house and pointed at the two babies, pillowed together inside the rough wooden conveyance.

“Praise God.” Luellen’s skirts billowed as she knelt next to her son. A bonneted Frannie nestled next to him. She touched David’s cheek with a fingertip and was rewarded with a smile.

She faced Leah. “I was frightened out of my wits when I found you gone. You should have told me—”

“You’re early. As you can see, I’m here in plenty of time to prepare Mrs. Garmon’s dinner.” Leah gestured toward the sky. “It’s good for babies to be in the sunshine. I took them for a walk.”

“In an
alley
?”

“D’you think I’d dare parade down College Avenue? What if someone decided to report me as a runaway slave?” She lifted Frannie and held her with one arm. “Soon’s I save the money, we’re going to Canada. Meantime, I get fresh air only when it’s safe to be out.”

The mystery of Leah spun through Luellen’s brain. If she was afraid to be seen on the street, how did she expect to travel to Canada?

She pushed herself to her feet. “How will you get there?”

Leah studied her for a moment, distrust in her eyes. “You don’t need to know.” She strode toward the house, talking over her shoulder as she went. “Bring the boy with you and come in. I need to cook dinner.”

Luellen scooped David from the wagon and trotted after her. What would she have to do to get into Leah’s good graces? The woman took offense at everything she said. She sighed, feeling David’s hungry mouth pressing on her skin. “You’re ready for dinner, aren’t you?” she whispered.

When she entered the kitchen, Leah had propped Frannie in a tall armchair. “You want to sit a spell and feed the boy, go ahead.” She opened the oven and removed a covered roasting pan.

“His name’s David.”

“What?”

“You keep calling him ‘the boy.’ His name’s David.”

Leah raised an eyebrow. “You came back early because you failed that test, didn’t you? That why you’re so snippy?” A cloud of fragrant steam billowed out when she raised the lid of the roaster.

Luellen bit back a caustic retort. If they continued bickering, they’d never be friends. “I’m sorry. I spoke more sharply than I intended.” She drew a chair away from the table. “I appreciate your offer.”

“Well. Make yourself comfortable then.” She speared a browned chunk of meat onto a platter and bestowed a half-smile on Luellen. “After I serve Mrs. Garmon, would you like a slice of this beef?”

“Yes, please.”

Leah folded her arms across her middle. “Now tell me about the test. What happened?”

“I passed—barely. My score was seventy-nine percent.” Humbled, she shifted her gaze to the floor.

“That’s good enough to be enrolled, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Then why the hangdog face?”

Luellen tightened her jaw. “I studied hard. I wanted to prove to Dr. Alexander—”

“You know him?” Leah caught her lower lip between her teeth.

“He’s the registrar. He’s the one who says whether I stay or go.”

Leah’s eyes narrowed. “He’s good at telling folks to go. Him and—” She turned her back and slashed a knife into the roast. “You mind yourself over there. Things isn’t always what they seem.”

On her way to the campus, Luellen pondered Leah’s words. Who else did she refer to in her warning? She filed the question away in her mind for later.

Ahead, clusters of students streamed toward classrooms. By squinting, she could discern Alma Guthrie on the steps of the Model School and hurried toward her.

“Welcome back.” Alma’s eyes shone. “As soon as class is over, I want to hear all about your baby. Mother says he’s a wonder.”

“He’s a joy, no doubt about it.” Luellen followed the instructor into the classroom, noticing new faces filling some of the desks.

To her surprise, Belle stood next to the blackboard. She waggled her fingers in greeting.

“Did I mistake my assignment?” Luellen whispered. She dug in her reticule for the schedule she’d been handed when she left the examination room.

Alma laid a hand on her arm. “Not at all. We’re doubling up our second-year student teachers to allow each of you plenty of practice time. You’ll alternate sessions. Miss Brownlee will teach arithmetic to the older children while you start the first-year pupils on reading. They’re waiting for you there on the right.” She rubbed her hands together. “It’s going to be a busy term. All the Model School classes are full.”

Luellen glanced around the room, seeking familiar faces of pupils she’d taught last year. Elizabeth and Cassie shared a desk in the third row. From his seat farther back, Jackie faced her with a challenging expression. But someone was missing.

“Where’s Joshua?”

“His father lost his job, so he moved the family to Chicago. I heard he’s working for one of the railroad lines.”

Luellen tensed. She could keep Brendan from her thoughts most of the time, but the mention of Chicago unlocked a door to memories. Would she ever forgive herself for her impulsive leap into marriage? The worries she faced today wouldn’t exist if only she’d waited.

Belle’s sharp voice penetrated Luellen’s self-reproach. “I’ve explained this several times. Aren’t you paying attention?”

The object of her scolding, a girl near the rear of the classroom, sat with a flushed face, eyes shiny with tears.

Luellen stared at her friend. It wasn’t like Belle to be unkind, particularly to a child. Alma hustled toward them, settling her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Martha, why don’t you work on your penmanship for now? You can study arithmetic tonight at home.” Sniffling, Martha reached for her slate pencil and complied.

Alma turned to Belle. “May I have a word?” She pointed toward the cloakroom. To Luellen she said, “Please keep the children occupied for a few minutes.”

Luellen nodded, wishing she could accompany Belle for moral support. Instead, she strode to the front of the classroom, nerves jumping. First day of the term, and Alma left her in charge. What if she couldn’t occupy the students’ interest? A copy of
Robert Merry’s Museum
lay on one corner of the desk. She riffled through the pages of the children’s magazine until she found a story she thought they’d all enjoy. “Have you heard ‘A Very Odd Grandfather’?”

The children shook their heads, some of them grinning with anticipation. She threw a glance toward the cloakroom door, then folded the magazine open and began to read. She’d reached the conclusion of the little piece by the time Alma returned—without Belle.

The instructor joined her at the front of the room. “You start with the new students, as we discussed. I’ll handle Miss Brownlee’s assignment.”

What happened to Belle? Much as she’d like to ask, there wasn’t time. Luellen selected a first reader from the shelf and crossed to the youngest pupils. “Today we’ll start with our letters. Who knows the alphabet?”

Of the half-dozen children, four raised their hands.

“Excellent. Let me hear you recite.” While she listened, Luellen peeked out a window hoping to glimpse Belle across the street, but couldn’t see her. Had she returned to the Ladies Hall? Or been sent to the registrar’s office?

When time came to dismiss classes, Luellen handed in her notes and hurried out the door. She wished she could find Belle to ask what happened in the cloakroom, but didn’t dare return to the boardinghouse too late to cook supper.

She never expected to miss living in the Ladies Hall. Right now she did. Belle needed her friendship, and she wasn’t there to provide a listening ear.

Luellen turned in front of Mrs. Garmon’s house and trotted up the graveled drive to the kitchen entrance. The door opened in midknock, Leah’s floury hand clasping the knob. A mound of dough rested on the worktable under the window. “After this, just come on in,” she said, her voice curt. “I can’t be stopping what I’m doing all the time to open the door.”

Luellen recoiled. What happened to the armistice they’d reached earlier in the day? She forced a smile. “All right. Thank you.”

Leah returned to her task while Luellen stood in the kitchen wondering how best to ask about David without drawing another sharp remark. Since she didn’t see either baby, and didn’t hear crying, she assumed they were asleep. A long moment passed. Muscles in Leah’s forearms knotted and released as she worked the dough.

“I’ll go get David now,” Luellen said, taking a tentative step toward the bedroom.

“Try not to wake Frannie. I just got ’em both to sleep a few minutes ago.” Leah slapped the pile of dough into a flat rectangle, the sound popping across the room. “Can’t get nothing done when the babies cry. One gets the other started.”

“I’ll be careful.”

Once in the bedroom, she paused a moment at the sight of the two infants in the crib, both with dark curls plastered to sweaty heads. Slipping her hands under David’s body, she lifted him to her, inhaling his sweet baby smell. He nestled close.

Frannie’s eyes opened when the crib jiggled. Seeing Luellen, she scrunched up her face and howled.

“Shh.” Luellen stroked the child’s head.

Frannie wailed louder.

Footsteps pounded from the kitchen and Leah appeared in the doorway, a scowl across her brow. “This isn’t going to work.”

“It has to. Please. Give us a few more days. They’ll get used to each other.”

Leah sniffed. “I’ll try it through Friday.” She hoisted Frannie to her shoulder. “That way you can pay me for a full week.”

After the supper dishes had been stored away, Luellen bent over her
Science of Education
textbook, but her thoughts tugged her back to the scene with Leah. Even if she could hire another nurse, how likely was it she’d find one close to the school? Today’s ten-minute walk each way demonstrated how little time she’d have with David during the noon recess. Any farther away and she wouldn’t be able to see him from morning until late afternoon.

She stood and paced the kitchen. Somehow, she’d just have to make it work.

Tap, tap, tap. Tap tap.

Luellen flung open the door. Lantern glow gilded Belle’s face.

“I’m so glad to see you!”

“Me too.” Belle stepped into the room. “I miss having you next door.”

Luellen peered into the dusk before closing the door. “I hope you didn’t walk here. It’s getting dark.”

“I rode the omnibus. I’ll stay until he comes round again.” She looked at the books and papers on the tabletop. “
Science of Education
. I tried studying tonight, but . . .” Slumping into a chair, Belle rested her face in her hands. “I feel like such a failure.”

“One afternoon doesn’t make you a failure.” Luellen slipped an arm around Belle’s shoulders. “What happened when you left the class?”

“Mrs. Guthrie said I needed to go to the Ladies Hall and rest. She thought I was just tired.”

“You weren’t?”

Belle fixed round blue eyes on Luellen. A shimmer of tears reflected on their surface. “If teaching means I can’t marry, I’m not sure I want to be a teacher anymore.”

“Marriage is off in the future somewhere.”

“No, it isn’t. Franklin and I have been corresponding since I went home with you in May.” Belle drew a folded piece of paper from her pocket, her cheeks pink. “This letter was in my postbox today. He’s planning to come to Springfield after the first of the year to meet my parents. He’s going to ask my father for my hand.” Her face brightened.

Luellen stared, trying to make sense of the words. Franklin married? Whenever she pictured her brother, he was riding a horse across open grassland, wearing buckskins and moccasins. What would he do with a wife?

As the silence between them lengthened, Belle’s smile faded. “I was afraid of this. You don’t want him to marry me.”

“Oh Belle, I can’t imagine anything better than having you as part of my family.” She drew her friend into a tight embrace. “I’m just having trouble imagining Franklin settling down. He’s been scouting for the Army so long, I guess I thought he’d always be out there on the prairie.”

Belle’s dimples reappeared. “He’s going to look into finding work in Springfield during his stay. I’m sure my father will help him.” She drew a deep breath. “Now do you see why I don’t care if I become a teacher or not?”

“If you got that letter today, I know why you were distracted at the Model School.” She faced her friend. “You can’t quit. God forbid, what if something happens to your plans? Education is too important. Even if you don’t use what we’re learning here to teach in classrooms, think how well you’ll be able to train your own children.” She seized Belle’s hands. “You’ll regret your decision if you don’t use this opportunity.”

“You’re making a speech.”

“I’m sorry. I think you’d be the best wife in the world for Franklin, but . . . things happen that we don’t anticipate. Education is never wasted.” Her pulse drummed in her throat. She had to make Belle understand.

“I hoped you’d be happy for us.” Her friend moved toward the door.

“I’m overjoyed. Truly.” She placed her hands on Belle’s shoulders. “The thought of having you for a sister-in-law is a dream come true. I just don’t want to see you leave in the middle of our training.”

Belle ducked around her. “The omnibus will be here any moment.” She stood on the porch framed in blackness, lamplight illuminating her over-bright eyes. “Good night.”

When Luellen awoke the next morning, her eyes felt sanded. She’d tossed for hours worrying that Belle might make the same impulsive decision she’d made. Allenwood Normal School was one of the few institutions to admit women. Her friend couldn’t toss away her golden opportunity for something as uncertain as marriage.

David rustled in his crib. Luellen tiptoed over and gathered him into her arms, covering his blanket-warmed face with kisses. Every moment of her struggle to care for him would be worth it when she received her certificate and could support the two of them on her own. If Alma could do it, so could she.

Once she cleaned up after the boarders’ breakfast, she bundled David into his hooded cape and carried him across the street to Leah’s. While she walked, she rehearsed what she’d say to calm yesterday afternoon’s turbulent waters.

I’m sorry I made Frannie cry.
No, that wouldn’t do.
Could David maybe sleep somewhere else?
That was just silly. Still pondering, she opened the back door of Mrs. Garmon’s house and entered the kitchen.

Leah turned toward her, smiling. “Glad you came back. I was afraid I ran you off with my bad temper.” She took David from Luellen’s arms. “It’s just my way—I get upset and spread the gloom around. You’d best learn to ignore me when I get like that.”

Luellen blinked. What could have upset her, stuck away as she was in the house all day?

Leah propelled her toward the door. “You run along. We’ll see you at dinner, won’t we, David?”