Hope at Dawn (12 page)

Most of his friends from back then had gone to fight overseas, which hadn’t helped Friedrick’s guilt over not being able to go himself. A few of them had even been killed, leaving behind grieving German-American families and sweethearts.

Would things be different once the war with Germany ended? Would he be able to see any girl he liked, without worrying what it would mean to her or his family? Or would there forever be a stigma surrounding him because he was from German descent and hadn’t been able to fight? The thought made him suddenly tired.

Livy glanced at him. “Something on your mind?”

Friedrick shrugged. “Long day.” Working on the farm and at the school had begun to take its toll. He’d nearly fallen asleep at supper the night before.

“We don’t have to go tonight. I know how early you have to rise in the morning.”

“And you get to sleep in,” he teased.

She shook her head and laughed. “Not really. I’m waking up before the sun, as if I’m back on the farm.”

“Then we’ll both be tired tomorrow.”

Livy needed this evening. As weary as he might be, he wouldn’t give up the chance to help her.

“Besides, you’ve got to keep up your dancing skills for that boyfriend of yours back home.” The statement was meant as more of a reminder to himself. He’d do well not to forget the pretty teacher seated next to him wasn’t—and wouldn’t ever be—his girl.

Livy’s answer was directed at the coat in her lap. “Robert doesn’t like dancing. He was injured in France and has to use a cane now.”

“He’s the one who’s taken up drinking.” Friedrick didn’t pose it as a question, though Livy nodded in response. He’d figured out right quick whom Livy had been talking about earlier when she mentioned a friend with a penchant for drinking.

“Was it his dislike of dancing or his trouble with alcohol that kept him from showing up on your birthday?” He’d meant the words to come out lighthearted, but some of his annoyance bled through. Why would any man leave a woman like Livy alone on her birthday?

“It was the latter.” She twisted her coat sleeve between her fingers. “I found out later he received word another friend of his had been killed. He spent the entire night passed out in his barn.”

Friedrick clenched his jaw at the picture she presented of her beau. While he respected the man for fighting in the war, his behavior now was inexcusable. Especially when it caused Livy pain.

“What about Maria?” she asked, changing the subject. “Is she going to be upset that you’re taking me to the dance hall instead of her?”

“She’ll be all right.” Friedrick pointed to his left without slowing the horses. “That’s our farm there.”

Livy leaned forward to see around him. “It’s a nice place.” When she sat back, she remarked in a playful tone, “So Maria hopes to live there one day as Mrs. Friedrick Wagner?”

He released a derisive chuckle. “I hope not.” Especially after he’d let Maria know tonight where he stood on the subject. “I can’t see a girl like her being willing to move into the home of her in-laws, especially when one of them is dying.”

“Is that why you haven’t married?” Livy asked with characteristic directness.

“I suppose.” He fixed his gaze on the road up ahead. “I owe a lot to my father and Elsa. He raised me on his own for three years after my mother died. I know he missed her, but he tried hard to let me know I was still important to him. Then Elsa came along and helped us both out of our melancholy. I can’t abandon them now by going to live somewhere else.” He urged the horses into a trot. “We don’t have extra money to build me a house anyway.”

From the corner of his eye, he caught her biting at her cheek. He could practically see the wheels turning in her head. She had something to say, but wasn’t sure if she ought to say it. He swallowed a chuckle. “What is it?”

“What’s what?” She feigned a look of innocence.

“You’re biting the inside of your cheek, which means you’re either nervous or dying to say something.”

The corners of her mouth lifted. “I was thinking that perhaps money isn’t your problem.”

He frowned. “How do you mean?”

“Well.” Her cheeks pinked as she hesitated.

“Go on.” He could certainly take whatever ribbing she could throw at him.

“Maybe you just haven’t found the right girl yet.” She sat up taller on the seat as she said it. “There must be someone out there who wouldn’t mind making her home with your family.”

“Maybe,” he echoed in a calm tone, though his thoughts were anything but serene.

He knew Livy wasn’t talking about herself—she couldn’t be. But her confidence prompted a seed of hope to sprout inside him. Not for her necessarily, but for the belief he’d find a girl someday who was beautiful, spunky, and willing to love and care for his family as much as he did. Too bad Livy shared all the same qualities with his dream girl—those and a whole lot more.

The fox-trot came to an end, and Livy’s partner released her hand. Grateful for a chance to catch her breath, she joined the young man and the other couples in applauding their appreciation for the band. Since she and Friedrick had arrived, the dances had been one lively one-step, two-step, or fox-trot after another, much to Livy’s delight. She’d danced to every song, something she hadn’t done in ages, but only twice with Friedrick.

Where was he? She went up on tiptoe and searched the crowd for him. His tall frame wasn’t difficult to spot. He caught sight of her and waved. Livy waved back as he started through the throng in her direction.

He reached her side and leaned close to ask, “You ready to go?”

Livy shook her head. “One more dance. Please?”

His warm, deep laughter brushed the hairs on the back of her neck, causing her skin to tingle there. He looked so handsome when he stared at her in that amused way of his. “With me?”

She nodded.

“All right. But I might come pounding on your door tomorrow morning so you can help me milk the cow at dawn.”

At that moment the band struck up the next song, but instead of a toe-tapping number, the music flowing through the room had a languid tempo. It was a waltz.

Friedrick lifted his hands into dance position, but Livy hesitated. The energetic tension in the dance hall had transformed to something elegant and romantic. The other two dances with Friedrick had been lively and fun, not intimate like the waltz.

“Change your mind?” The teasing challenge in his blue eyes was unmistakable, though he lowered his arms to his sides.

Livy took a quick breath and tilted her chin upward. “No. I like to waltz.”

“Good.” The word was hardly audible, but Livy heard it just the same and his confident tone produced a strange thrill in her stomach. She stepped into his arms, and they joined the other couples spinning about the room.

Waltzing with Friedrick was nothing like swaying to the music with Robert or even doing the fox-trot. He held her closer but in a way that made her feel completely safe and cherished. She felt a heightened awareness of him in every sense. His firm touch on her back, the masculine scent of his shaving soap, the pleasure of his laughter in her ears.

Livy’s pulse danced its own chaotic rhythm, completely out of sync with the fluid dance steps. Not for the first time, she contemplated what it would be like if he kissed her, what it would be like if they were to dance like this all night.

Afraid he’d read the longing on her face, Livy kept her chin lowered, her eyes trained on his shoulder. She shouldn’t be thinking such things about Friedrick. She’d only ended things with Robert right before coming to Hilden, and then there was the whole dilemma of Friedrick being German-American. They couldn’t be more than friends, no matter how much she secretly wished for something different.

Try as she might, though, logic couldn’t hold its power over her for long. Especially when Friedrick peered down at her and smiled slowly. She couldn’t have asked for a better evening. The night had been the perfect antidote to her frustration about the Kellers.

All too soon the waltz ended. Friedrick kept hold of her hand as he led her through the crowd to the dance hall entrance. Outside he helped her into her coat. The night air felt much cooler. Livy shivered and pulled the thin material tighter around her.

They drove through the streets in silence, Livy still trembling with cold. If only she’d brought along her thick winter coat instead of her more stylish thin one.

“Are you cold?” Friedrick asked, breaking the quiet.

“Why would you say that?” Livy joked through chattering teeth.

“Because you’re bouncing the seat.” He chuckled as she tried to stop, but she couldn’t.

“Sorry. It’s colder out than I thought it would be.”

He turned to look at the wagon bed. “I don’t have a blanket.”

“I’ll be all right. Just give me a—”

He put his arm around her shoulders and drew her against him. Immediate warmth spread through her arm and thigh where it connected with his coat and pant leg. She told herself she’d only stay there long enough to end her shivering, then she would move. But even as her trembling stopped, she couldn’t force herself to scoot away. The same feeling of refuge, of safety, she’d experienced while waltzing with him washed over her again, driving out all thoughts of the cold. Friedrick’s embrace felt not only secure but completely natural.

She wished she could see his expression. Did he enjoy holding her this way? Or was he simply being kind? “Thank you for bringing me tonight.”

She sensed more than saw his smile. “You’re welcome. You dance very well.”

“I was going to say the same for you.”

He chuckled in her ear. The low, rumbling sound, especially seated close to him in the dark, stirred her stomach to flutters. “Any time you want to go again, let me know.”

She didn’t answer, afraid she’d disrupt the feeling of contentment wrapping itself around them if she voiced the truth. There likely wouldn’t be another time. But until they reached her cabin, she could pretend such a thing was possible as an American girl and a German boy going to the dance hall every night.

The motion of the wagon and the comforting heat of Friedrick’s arm lulled Livy’s eyes shut. The next thing she knew, Friedrick was giving her shoulder a gentle shake.

“Livy, we’re here. At your cabin.”

She lifted her head and blinked at the shadowed world around them. “That didn’t take long.”

“You’ve been asleep for a while,” he said, the smile in his voice evident.

Friedrick helped her climb down from the wagon and walk to her door. She still felt half awake. After finding her keys, she unlocked the door and turned to face him. The light from the moon shone across his face, accentuating the crook of his masculine mouth and the angles of his jaw and chin.

“Thank you again, Friedrick. I had a lovely time.”

“I’m glad. I hope it helped.”

“Very much so.” She hesitated on the doorstep, searching for something more to say. He’d been so kind to come to her rescue today. He always seemed to be helping others, but who helped him?

Friedrick cleared his throat and took a step backward. “Good night, Livy.”

“Wait.”

“Yes?”

The air felt suddenly charged with energy, an almost tangible force drawing them together. Sleepiness fled Livy’s mind as she stared into his eyes. “You were wrong about one thing today.”

His chuckle rolled over her. “Just one?”

“You said you felt useless here. But you’re not.” The cloak of night gave her courage to finish her thought. She stepped closer until their shoes nearly touched at the toes. “You helped me tonight, and you help take care of your family every day. Those things prove you aren’t useless, Friedrick. Maybe you can’t fight, but even a battle is made up of many individuals doing deliberate things. Just as you’re doing here.”

Unable to resist the pull between them any longer, Livy rose on the balls of her feet and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips. For once, her own boldness surprised her. She threw Friedrick a quick “good night” and escaped inside.

She rested her back against the closed door, her breath coming in shallow bursts as though she’d run all the way home. She listened to the sounds of Friedrick’s boots striding away, then the creak of his wagon as it lumbered down the road.

Would he think her forward or recognize the kiss for what it had been? A token of gratitude.
Nothing more than that
, she told herself firmly as she readied for bed. But the smile on her face wouldn’t leave, no matter how logical her thoughts.

B
atter up,” Friedrick announced as Henry stepped up to the makeshift home plate—one of the children’s coats. Friedrick had come to the school early, hoping to finish fixing the cracks in the south wall, but the spring sunshine and Harlan’s pleas soon had him abandoning his task to play a quick game of baseball.

Henry swung the bat a few times, then prepared for the pitch. Friedrick arched his arm and let the ball fly from his fingers. Henry gave it a light tap with the bat, forcing Friedrick to charge forward. By the time he snatched up the ball, Henry had crossed first base.

Friedrick called for the next student. As Anna took her place at bat, Livy exited the schoolhouse. The sight of her brought the vivid memory of her kiss to Friedrick’s mind. He’d thought of little else the past five days.

She’d looked so vulnerable and beautiful standing on her doorstep in the moonlight, her hair slightly matted from sleeping against his chest. If she hadn’t fled inside, he would have surely given in to his desire to kiss her, too. Such a realization had kept him awake more than once this week and filled him with equal parts regret and relief.

He’d told Elsa, and himself, that taking Livy to the dance hall the other night had been an act of kindness, a way to cheer her up. But he couldn’t have been more wrong. The intensified awareness between them when they waltzed, the way Livy fit perfectly beneath his shoulder, the pleasure he found at both her words of encouragement and her touch, all combined into something far more dangerous than simply going dancing.

He could suddenly relate to the foolish moth, drawn to the lantern’s alluring flame, wanting so much to be close to it, despite the peril it would bring. Try as he might, Friedrick couldn’t curtail the need to see Livy. To be near her, to make her smile.

Anna frowned with impatience at Friedrick. “I’m ready.”

“Hold on.” He pointed his thumb in Livy’s direction. “Don’t you think we ought to let your teacher have a turn?”

Livy smirked and motioned to her shoes. “In these heels, I don’t think so.”

“Come on.” Friedrick tossed the ball into the air and caught it. “I know you can throw, but can you bat?”

“Yeah, come on, Miss Campbell,” Harlan shouted from behind Friedrick.

“Be on our team, Miss Campbell,” Anna said. “We’re losing by one. You can take my place.”

Livy threw Friedrick a hard glare, which only made him laugh. He’d seen the way she stood up to challenges—she wouldn’t back down, heels or not. “Oh, all right,” she huffed.

The students cheered, even those on the opposing team, as Livy slipped off her shoes and hefted the bat. Friedrick made a show of stretching his arm in preparation for the pitch.

“Sometime today, Friedrick,” she called, swinging the bat in front of her. He grinned. She positioned the bat near her shoulder and stared him down. The purse of her lips and the furrow in her brow made her look all the more attractive. Friedrick narrowed his eyes and threw the ball. Livy swung but missed.

“Strike one,” he announced.

Livy frowned and lifted the bat again. Friedrick pitched the ball. This time the bat and ball connected with a loud
thwack
. The ball sailed over Friedrick’s head toward left field.

“Don’t let her reach home,” he hollered to his team as he turned to face those in the outfield.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Livy sprinting to first base. Harlan and another boy ran after the ball, but they were moving too slowly. Livy reached second. She threw Friedrick a smug smile as she raced to third.

“Here you go, Friedrick.” Harlan tossed him the ball, which he easily caught between his hands. He spun around and found Livy rounding third base.

“Oh no you don’t.” He ran forward to beat her to home plate. If Livy noticed him coming, she didn’t show it. She ran as fast as her long skirt would allow, but Friedrick moved a hair faster.

He met up with her just before she could touch home plate. To avoid a collision, he gripped the ball in one hand and wrapped his free arm around Livy’s small waist. She laughed as he twisted her close to keep them both from toppling to the ground.

As their momentum slowed, he glanced down. She stared up at him, her lips parted as she tried to catch her breath. The noise around them faded into a dull roar, as it had when they’d danced the other night. Nothing else mattered but him and Livy and this moment. The yearning to kiss her was overpowering. He lowered his chin, so his forehead nearly touched hers. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t move away.

He lifted his hand to cradle her face and realized he still held the baseball. Livy’s gaze dropped to it as well. Wriggling out of his hold, she planted her foot on the coat.

“Home run,” she said in a breathless voice.

Disappointment cut through him, but it was quickly replaced with rationality. He’d nearly kissed her in front of her students. “Well done.”

Livy gave him a victorious smile.

“Ah, Friedrick,” Harlan hollered. “Now we’re tied.”

Friedrick returned to his pitching spot. The next student stepped up to bat, but Friedrick struggled to focus on the game. He kept darting looks at Livy as she pulled on her shoes, her hair falling loose, her cheeks pink from the exercise. Distracted, he walked the next two batters, much to the consternation of his young team.

“You have ten more minutes,” Livy said to her students.

Friedrick readied himself for another pitch when he noticed the postman coming across the yard toward the group.

“Something for you, Miss Campbell.” The postman’s hesitant tone had Friedrick on sudden alert. Livy clearly heard it, too. She walked slowly toward the man, her shoulders pulled back, but Friedrick noticed she was gnawing the inside of her cheek.

He ignored the call of the children, who were anxious to finish the game before they had to head indoors. Instead he intercepted Livy and the postman. The man held out a short slip of paper—a telegram. The alarm in Friedrick’s gut intensified.

Livy visibly swallowed, her eyes meeting Friedrick’s. The raw fear reflected there cut at him. “Do you want me to read it?” he asked her quietly.

Still biting her cheek, she dipped her head in a quick nod and folded her arms. Friedrick took the telegram from the postman. He put his hand on Livy’s shoulder and cleared his throat.

“‘Tom killed,’” he read out loud.

Livy flinched beneath his grasp and covered her mouth with her hand. A cry of pain leaked through her fingers, tearing at Friedrick’s heart.

He swallowed hard and forced himself to finish reading. “‘Memorial service Friday. Stop. Will come for you tomorrow. Stop.’”

Friedrick crumbled the offensive telegram in his fist and drew Livy to him. Her love for her brothers was so strong. Losing one of them, without the chance to say good-bye, had to feel like losing her childhood friend all over again.

If only he could erase from time the last two minutes or been in France and saved Tom’s life. But Friedrick couldn’t do either, so he held Livy tight, her agony now his.

Livy didn’t shed a tear. She simply pressed her cheek against his shirt, her arms wrapped around him as if he were the only thing keeping her upright.

The postman threw them a regretful look and walked away. The calls of the children from behind had stopped. Friedrick imagined they were curious and concerned about what had happened, but he didn’t turn around. Instead he kept his arms around Livy.

How he wished it could always be his job to watch over and comfort her, but it would never happen. Not now. Not when her brother had just been killed in a war against his own people.

Livy stared out the window of her cabin, her mug of untouched coffee on the table in front of her. She couldn’t swallow even one sip. Her throat felt too tight with unshed tears.

This isn’t real
, she kept telling herself.
Tom can’t be gone.
Tomorrow I’ll wake up from this awful nightmare and he’ll still be alive and well.

She thought of her brother’s easy smile, his quick wit, the way he’d always been able to cajole her out of a foul mood. He’d held her hand through Blanche’s funeral service and gave her his best marble afterward to help her stop crying.

Did I really have to lose another dear friend, God?
She rested her head beside her cup and squeezed her dry eyes shut.

Sorrow and shock sliced through her, making it hard to breathe. She forced herself to take deep, even breaths. How were her parents managing? She’d lost a brother, yes, but they’d lost a son. And what about Joel? Did he even know what had happened to their brother? Had Tom suffered or had he been taken quickly? The unanswered questions made her head pound and her heart ache.

For the first time since coming to Hilden nearly four weeks earlier, Livy wanted to go home. She hated the idea of staying here, alone in her cabin with her grief, until her father arrived tomorrow to take her home. A longing to see her other siblings—to be with her family right away—filled her, nearly as fierce as her mourning.

A knock at the door interrupted her bereavement. She lifted her head to call out in a flat voice, “Come in.” She hoped it was Friedrick; she couldn’t stand the thought of talking with anyone else right now.

Relief flooded through her as he entered her cabin. “I called the superintendent from the neighbor’s house.” He left the door partway open and came to stand beside the table. “Mr. Foster said to close the school as long as you need. Just inform him when you get back.”

“Thank you.” She hoped he felt the sincerity of the words, even if they sounded a bit lackluster. He’d been more than kind—dismissing the children for her, making her coffee, and volunteering to telephone Mr. Foster.

“I’ve got Harlan making a sign for the school door to let everyone know it will be closed. Is there anything else you need?”

Livy shook her head.

“You didn’t drink your coffee.”

“I couldn’t…” She gnawed at her cheek as fresh emotion crawled up her throat.

Friedrick crouched in front of her, one hand resting on her chair back, the other on the table. The way he studied her with evident concern reminded her of the night of her birthday. He’d come to her aid then, too.

“It’s all right to grieve, Livy. A good cry might help you.”

“I want to, but I can’t.” Did her inability to cry mean something was wrong with her? How could she cry for days at the loss of her childhood friend and not shed a tear for her brother?

“The tears will come,” Friedrick said as though reading her thoughts, “when you’re ready.” He placed his hand over hers. His touch warmed and comforted her, as his embrace had earlier. “My father told me the same thing when my mother died, and he was right.”

His words eased some of her guilt, if only momentarily. “I keep thinking about my parents and what they must be feeling.” She leaned her forehead onto her free hand and drew a shuddered breath. “I’m their eldest daughter. I should be there helping prepare for the service, not waiting for my father to come all this way to fetch me.”

“Then we’ll get you there today.”

Livy lifted her head to look at him, hardly daring to hope. “How?”

Friedrick stood and pulled her to her feet. “Get what you’ll need together, while I take Harlan and Greta home.”

“But I don’t live close, Friedrick. If we leave now, we won’t reach the farm until supper.” She wanted him to understand the implications of his decision, while at the same time, she hoped he’d still want to take her. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

His blue eyes darkened with an emotion Livy felt too grieved and befuddled to identify before he offered her a shadow of a smile. “I’ll be back in thirty minutes.”

After a quick stop at the telegraph office to let Livy’s parents know she’d be home today, Friedrick drove her south through town. The afternoon sun shone bright and warm, a mocking contrast to the news Livy had received.

Friedrick shed his coat once they reached the open road outside of Hilden. He shot a glance at Livy as he tossed the garment into the wagon bed. She gazed straight ahead, her green eyes devoid of spark. He refocused his attention on the road ahead, wishing there was something more he could do for her. Something to bring the life back into her.

To his great relief, Elsa hadn’t objected to his plan to make the six-hour round-trip drive to get Livy home. She had asked if he meant to return that evening or stay over and come home tomorrow. Friedrick didn’t want to impose on the Campbell family, especially at a time like this, but he wanted to see how tired he felt when they arrived before making a decision. Maybe he could bunk in the barn, then leave at daylight.

“I can’t believe he’s really gone,” Livy murmured, speaking for the first time since they’d driven away from her cabin. “I wonder if they told Nora yet.”

“Nora?”

Livy stared down at her hands. “She and Tom were sweethearts. He hadn’t given her a ring yet, but it was understood by them and our whole family that after the war, they would be…be married.” Several tears ran down her face. She swiped them away at once, but Friedrick was relieved to see she wasn’t holding all her grief inside.

He hurt for her and her family, and for this other girl who’d lost her beau today. Having his mother die had been difficult, but he couldn’t imagine losing the person one planned to marry.

“I didn’t even get to say good-bye to him, just like with Blanche.” A shudder ran through her. “Tom probably hadn’t even received my last letter, telling him about coming to teach in Hilden.”

Friedrick shifted the reins to reach for her hand. He locked his fingers with hers and set their joined hands on the seat between them. “What would you have said to him?”

“About what?”

“Tell me what you would have said, if you’d been able to say good-bye.”

She sat in silence so long he thought she might not answer. “Well,” she finally said, visibly swallowing. “I would have told him how much I loved him, how grateful I am to be his sister.”

Friedrick nodded. “Anything else?”

“I would have told him I forgive him for all the teasing he did. I would thank him for making me laugh.” Her voice wobbled with emotion. “He always did have a sunny personality, which could make even the most despondent of people crack a smile. He loved Nora dearly. He would have done anything for her. I always admired that.”