In Every Heartbeat (2 page)

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HAPTER
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P
ete pressed his elbow against his ribcage, resisting Libby’s tug on his arm. “Hold on. I want to give Jackson and Maelle a decent farewell.”

Libby let out a little huff of displeasure, but Pete ignored it. He was used to Libby’s huffs. It was the only girlish thing she did, and it was harmless. He stood watching until Jackson and Maelle reached the tall rock walls that lined the campus’s entrance. As he had suspected they might, they paused and turned back. Both waved.

Petey waved with his hand held high. A vivid memory filled his mind: standing outside his family’s tenement building, staring at the window, waiting for someone to look out and wave goodbye. He’d stood for hours, but no wave ever came.

He nodded toward Libby. “See there? How would they have felt to look back and find no one watching?”

“Sad.” Libby’s tone reflected the one-word answer and seemed to pluck the emotion from his heart. She gave a feeble wave and pulled again at his arm. “All right, you’ve given them a proper send-off. Now let’s go eat.”

Pete laughed as he turned toward the dining hall. He had to hop-skip on his wooden peg leg to match her swift pace. “I’ve never seen you so eager for a meal. You must have built up an appetite putting your things away. But slow down. You’re going to send me tumbling.”

She stopped so abruptly he almost fell forward. He looked down at her, ready to complain, but the tears winking in her velvet brown eyes stopped him. He’d never seen Libby cry—not when she’d fallen out of a tree and cut her chin, not when Bennett had accidentally smacked her with a homemade baseball, not even when she’d earned a licking for climbing the rose trellis on the side of the school dormitory.

Concerned, he cupped his hand over hers. “Libby, what’s wrong?”

Instead of answering, she spun away from him and faced the campus. “I changed my mind. I . . . I don’t think I could eat a bite. I’m going to take a walk instead.” She started off in a determined gait, her arms pumping.

“Wait!” Pete trotted after her, hopping twice on his good leg for every one time on his peg leg. Even after years of using the wooden replacement for flesh and bone, it still jolted his hip when he moved too fast. He grimaced, but he caught up to her. Taking hold of her arm, he brought her to a halt. “What’s the matter? Tell me.” Over the years, he’d been privy to her secrets, her worries, her frustrations. He waited expectantly for a reply. But to his surprise, she turned stubborn.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just want to take a walk. Go eat.” She gave him a little push. “Bennett’s probably holding a spot for you. So go on.”

Even though his stomach murmured in desire, Pete shook his head. “Nah. You know when Bennett’s got food in front of him, nothing else matters. He won’t even miss me. I’ll walk with you instead.”

She pursed her lips, and for a moment Pete thought she’d send him away. But then she released another little huff. “Very well. Let’s go. That way.” Arms folded over her ribs and head low, Libby moved in the opposite direction of the path Jackson and Maelle had taken earlier. Occasionally, she kicked at a stone. Her movements seemed jerky, almost uncontrolled, so different from her usual grace. Although Pete wondered what had her in such a dither, he didn’t ask. He’d learned sometimes it was best to let Libby stew. Eventually, she’d let the steam out and he’d know what was wrong.

They walked down a tree-lined path that ended in a field of uncut grass dotted with patches of wild flowers. She stopped and looked right and left, as if deciding which way to go. He waited patiently for her to make up her mind, refusing to fidget even though standing still intensified the ache in his hip. Whichever direction she chose, he’d follow.

Her brow puckered, and she tipped her head, frowning. “What is that?” She moved forward, her feet crushing the foot-high grass. Pete followed, his gaze on the shining locks of black hair that flowed almost to her waist. She stopped so suddenly he almost collided with her.

She clasped her hands beneath her chin and released a delighted laugh. “We found it!”

He glanced around, noting nothing of significance. “What did we find?”

“The foundation.” Libby skipped forward and then crouched, skimming her hand over a rough rock wall only inches high. The free-growing grass and abundance of wild flowers had masked it from view. Pete propped his hands on his thighs and examined the gray weather-worn stones that formed a large rectangle.

“Remember what Mrs. Rowley said?” Libby’s voice held excitement. “The original academic building burned to the ground in the late 1870s, and they chose to build a new one closer to the road rather than rebuild on the old foundation.” Her gaze followed the line of the stones, her full lips forming a soft smile of wonder. “But it’s still here, hunkering down low like a secret fortress for chipmunks or squirrels.” Her voice took on a whimsical quality, and Petey knew she was drifting into one of her make-believe worlds.

With a little giggle, she stepped onto the foundation and extended her arms. Pete automatically caught one of her hands, and her dimples flashed with her smile. Holding the tips of his fingers, she put one foot in front of the other and walked the length of the little wall, her chin high and expression serious. Watching her, Pete couldn’t help smiling. Libby had a way of making ordinary moments seem special.

She reached the corner and leapt off, landing in an exaggerated curtsy. She laughed, then spun to face the foundation again. Sobering, she tapped her chin with one finger. “It’s kind of sad, isn’t it, to think of such a grand building all burnt up and gone, only these few stones remaining? I wish I could have seen it when it was still here.” Her gaze lifted slowly upward, and Petey knew she was trying to picture the building in her mind. He remained silent, allowing her the moments of silent introspection. When she’d had her fill of whimsy, she’d move on, and he’d tag along. Like always.

After several long seconds, she released a deep sigh and turned to face the opposite direction. Her eyes flew wide, and she let out a gasp. “Petey!” She ran to the opening between the trees.

“What?” He limped up beside her and peered into her astonished face.

“Oh . . . look.” She pointed down the lane they’d taken. Her eyes seemed to dart everywhere. “The trees, the way they form a canopy over the walkway. See how the sun sneaks between the leaves and dapples the path? Why, it’s simply laden with splashes of sunshine and shadow. How enchanting!” She laughed, clapping her hands once. “Doesn’t it look like a fairy road?”

Pete tapped his peg leg against the ground, his means of battling the feeling of numbness in his missing limb. “A fairy road?”

She bopped his shoulder, just the way she had when they were younger and he irritated her. But she grinned at him. “Don’t make fun.”

He held up both hands. “I’m not making fun. You’re right. It’s . . . enchanting.” But he kept his eyes glued to her face. Fingers of sunlight crept through the tree branches overhead, bringing a sheen to her dark hair and making her eyes shimmer. At least the tears had disappeared from her eyes.

He frowned. “Libby? You were ready to cry earlier. Why?”

The delight immediately faded from her expression. “I don’t cry.”

“I know you don’t. That’s why you have me worried.”

She gave him a puzzled look “You really worry about me?”

He shrugged. “Sure I do. We’re . . . we’re friends, aren’t we?” Lately, he’d found it hard to be just friends with Libby. A part of him—the larger part, he realized—longed to protect her, to shower her with little gifts and words of devotion, to tell her he thought she was the most intriguing female God had ever placed on the earth. But he held those words inside. Libby was so independent, with such lofty plans for success. He couldn’t begin to compete with her dreams of traveling to big cities and writing stories that would capture the attention of a major newspaper publisher. He’d been saved to serve God. Why should she give up the chance for accolades to become the wife of a one-legged minister?

She placed her hand on his sleeve. “You don’t need to worry about me. I had a momentary attack of melancholy. I wasn’t ready for Maelle to leave.” Her chin quivered briefly, but she set her jaw, and her brown eyes snapped with determination. “I’m fine now, as you can see, and we should probably return to our dormitories. Being late for curfew our very first day on campus won’t bode well with the teachers.”

Pete held out his elbow. With a little giggle, Libby caught hold, and he escorted her down the tree-lined walkway back toward the main part of campus. They walked in silence, which didn’t bother Pete. Unlike many of the other girls at the orphans’ school, Libby didn’t seem to need to chatter constantly to be happy. He appreciated that about her. A fellow could just
be
and not worry about impressing her.

He swallowed a chuckle when he thought about how he’d once viewed her as just one of the boys. Isabelle Rowley, the most prim and proper woman he knew, had never allowed Libby to don boy’s trousers, no matter how often she begged. But even wearing a dress, and even carrying a grace no boy could master, Libby had never seemed girlish. Her thick black braids flying, she’d kept up step-for-step in races, climbed just as high in trees, and nailed her target in mumblety-peg with amazing accuracy.

And then one day, shortly after their sixteenth birthdays, he’d looked at her and realized she was beautiful. He’d told her so, too. His arm had ached for two days where she’d punched him. He wouldn’t tell her again. But she couldn’t keep him from thinking it.

“Well, look at this, Claude. We’ve caught us a couple of lovebirds.”

Pete instinctively tucked his arm hard to his side, trapping Libby’s hand between his elbow and ribcage. He hoped the pressure would keep her silent. Two young men swaggered toward them, cocky grins on their faces. Pete knew they were college students by their matching fraternity jackets. His stomach tightened in apprehension. Jackson had warned him about freshman hazing. He had no plans to join a fraternity, so he’d hoped to avoid the tradition, but he surmised from the looks on the men’s faces that they were determined to make sport with him.

The pair stopped directly in Pete’s path, fists on hips and feet widespread, trapping him and Libby in place. “So am I right?” the taller of the pair drawled. “Are you two lovebirds?”

Libby bristled. “Certainly not! We’re—”

Pete jerked his arm, and to his relief she hushed. “I’m escorting Miss Conley to her dormitory so she doesn’t miss curfew. If you’ll excuse us.”

“Miss Conley, huh?” The one who’d done the talking so far stepped forward, leaning close to Libby. She pressed her cheek to Pete’s shoulder, puckering her face in distaste. The man laughed and slapped his leg. “You’ve got time yet for curfew. I’d like to get a better look at this little darlin’. She’s quite the looker, huh, Claude?”

“That she is, Roy.” Claude waggled his eyebrows, leering at Libby. “I like a girl with some color in her face. And all that loose black hair. Reminds me of the picture on a calendar my pop had hidden in the back of his workshop where Ma wouldn’t see.”

Fury rose from Pete’s gut at the man’s brazenness. Upper classmen or not, they had no right to insult Libby. “Gentlemen,” Pete said through clenched teeth, “you’ve had your fun. Now let us pass.”

“Oh, our fun’s just beginning, sonny boy.” The one named Roy gave Pete’s shoulder a smack with the butt of his hand.

Pete planted his peg leg and managed to keep his balance despite the other’s man’s rough treatment.

“You’re new, aren’tcha?”

With a quick glance at Libby, Pete offered a hesitant nod.

“Thought so. That means we’ve got seniority. And that means you’ve gotta do what we say. Huh, Claude?”

Claude grinned. “That’s right, Roy.”

“So for starters . . .” Roy took a menacing step forward, stopping mere inches in front of Pete. “Let go of this sweet little thing’s hand.”

Libby sucked in a sharp breath. Pete shook his head. “No, sir.”

Roy’s thick eyebrows rose. “Did you say no to me?”

Lord, help me. I don’t want this to turn ugly. Libby could be hurt.
Pete sucked in a lungful of air and looked directly into the face of his tormenter. “Yes, I did. I’m not going to release my friend’s hand, and I’m not going to allow you to harass her any further. Now, step aside and let us pass.”

Roy stared at Pete in open-mouthed amazement before hooting in laughter. He grabbed Claude’s arm and shook it. “Did you hear him, Claude? The pretty boy here just said he wouldn’t
allow
me to bother his little lovebird.” The laughter ended, and Roy’s eyes narrowed into slits. “I’m curious, pretty boy, how you plan to keep me from bothering her?”

Aaron Rowley, Pete’s foster father for most of his life, had taught him to use his head instead of his fists in disagreements. Aaron’s advice made sense—violence rarely provided a permanent solution; and with his peg leg, Pete had the disadvantage in any physical altercation. So he’d followed Aaron’s instruction. But from the look on Roy’s face, Pete sensed talking wouldn’t diffuse this situation. To rid himself of this man’s company, he’d have to use his fists. He took hold of Libby’s shoulders and set her aside.

Her eyes grew huge as realization dawned. “Petey, no!”

“Petey?” Roy blasted another laugh. “Oh, Claude, did’ja hear that? His name is Petey!”

Libby whirled on the men. “You stop laughing at him!” She plunked her fists on her hips, and fire sparked from her eyes. Pete cringed, recognizing the signs of Libby gearing up for a fight.

“Oh, how brave you are—two against one,” she continued. “But look at him standing up to you! He’s twice the man either of you are!” Her face blazed red with indignation, and her volume increased with the color in her face. Other students, milling outside the dining hall, turned in their direction.

Pete sent Libby a pleading look, but she waved her fists. “You get away! How dare you attack a woman and a crippled man!”