The Dawn of a Dream (23 page)

Sighing, she dug her algebra textbook from her trunk and carried it to a chair next to the window. She
would
learn these equations. The sun shifted to the western sky while she studied, but she paid little attention. When David whimpered, Luellen moved her foot so she could rock his cradle and continue reading.

“How can you ignore him when he cries?” Lily stood in the doorway, her mouth pinched in disapproval. Edmund hovered behind her in the hall.

Luellen marked her place with her finger and looked up. “He’s fine. I’ll pick him up when he really gets serious.”

“May I?” Without waiting for an answer, Lily lifted David from the cradle and felt his bottom. “He’s wet. I’ll change him for you.”

“That’s not necessary. I’ll do it.” Luellen snapped the algebra text closed.

Lily shrugged her away and plucked a folded diaper from a stack on the bureau. When David was clean and dry, she perched on the edge of the bed with him in her arms. She nodded at Edmund, who entered the room and closed the door behind him.

“We have a proposition to offer,” he said. “Since becoming a teacher is so important to you, we would like to help by taking David and raising him as our son.”

Luellen gasped. “No!”

“We can give him a better life than you ever could. I make a comfortable living at my father’s flour mill. The boy wouldn’t want for anything.” Edmund rocked back on the heels of his shiny brown boots.

“And he’d have a mother and a father,” Lily said. She dropped a kiss on David’s dark curls. “How can you even consider raising a child on your own?”

Luellen snatched the baby from Lily’s arms, startling him. She glared at her sister. “Our father died before you were born. Where would you be if Mama had decided not to keep you? She could have given you away, but she didn’t. And I won’t let David go.”

She brushed past Edmund and flung open the door. “Please get out of my room—and stay away from my son.”

Edmund tugged on the hem of his checkered waistcoat, smoothing it over his trim physique. “The offer is open. We’ll see how you feel once you’ve struggled at Allenwood for a few months.” He laid an arm around Lily’s shoulder and guided her from the room.

Luellen slammed the door behind Lily and Edmund. The bang started David howling.

“Shh. Mama’s got you. You’re safe.” She patted his back until he relaxed, then reclined against the head of the bed and took him to her breast. While he nursed, she fingered his curls and stroked the outline of his tiny ears. “You’re all mine to love,” she whispered. “No one will take you away from me.”

Her stomach tightened when she considered her sister’s offer. Was she doing the right thing by keeping David? What if she couldn’t manage?
Lord, help me.

When the day arrived for Lily and Edmund to return to Springfield, Luellen felt sadness mixed with relief. She’d anticipated spending pleasant hours with her sister, but their time together ended on a note of strained politeness.

Now, standing in the depot next to her parents, she stiffened when Lily approached.

“May I hold him one last time?”

Their mother watched the exchange. Luellen sensed Mama noticed the restraint between them, so she kept a pleasant expression on her face. Inside, she counted the moments until she could reclaim her son.

When the train left the station, Luellen heaved a deep sigh.

“What happened between you and your sister?” Mama asked while Papa walked ahead to untie the horses and bring the buggy around to the edge of the platform. “You didn’t spend much time together this week.”

“She and Edmund wanted to take David and raise him as their own.” She enfolded David’s head with one hand and kissed him. “They think if I go back to school, I won’t be a proper mother.”

“She said as much to me.”

“What did you tell her?” She held her breath.

“I told her God gave David to you, not her.”

Tears burned Luellen’s eyes. “Thank you, Mama. I pray I’ll be worthy of his trust.”

“At the same time, you must do your part.”

“My part?”

“Take care of yourself so you can take care of your son. If you get lung fever again, Lily might feel justified in her position. You could hardly tend to a babe as sick as you were in May.”

Luellen opened her mouth to protest. She believed she’d stay well, but then, she’d assumed the same thing last term.

Papa stood in the kitchen doorway. “Someone’s here to see you.”

Luellen paused in setting out papers. “My new student? Why would she come to the back entrance?”

“I’m an old student.” Daniel stood behind her father. His height made Papa appear small.

Flustered, she dropped a handful of pencils. “It’s been a long time.”

His hair was trimmed and combed back. He wore a loose-fitting white shirt tucked into a pair of linsey-woolsey trousers. “I told you I’d have a surprise for you this summer.”

“Yes. You did.” She waited.

Papa spoke in the ensuing silence. “Daniel stopped by my office for permission to take you to see the house he’s built. I told him I’d come along to keep things proper.”

“This isn’t a very good time. I have a new student coming later today. And I shouldn’t leave David.”

“Bring him with you,” Daniel said. “I heard about your little one. Guess I’m not the only person with a surprise, eh?” He chuckled.

Luellen shot a pleading glance at Papa, hoping he’d see her reluctance.

He met her gaze, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “You can spare an hour. It’s a cool morning for August. Be good for you to get some fresh air.” The two men acted as though they shared a secret.

She heaved a deep sigh and scooped the pencils from the floor. “I’ll get David ready and be with you in a few minutes.” She wouldn’t upset Papa by arguing with him.

Luellen braced her feet against the floorboards of Daniel’s wagon to keep from being bounced off the stiff plank seat. Why would Papa think she needed to see Daniel’s new house? She prayed he wasn’t matchmaking.

David wiggled and she adjusted his cap to keep the sun from his eyes. He waved his hands in the air until he found his thumb, which he poked in his mouth.

“Bright little fellow, isn’t he?” Daniel’s hazel eyes rested on her for a moment. “He takes after his mama.”

“Thank you.” Luellen resisted the urge to tell him all the ways she believed David to be advanced for two and a half months old. A man his age wouldn’t be interested in babies.

They passed the hotel, the smithy’s, and the cottage she’d shared with Brendan. The bitter taste of betrayal rose in her throat. As time went by, she thought of Brendan less and less, but the scene of her folly brought his laughing face back to her memory.
You and those glasses—you should be happy you had this much time with a man.
She clenched her teeth, fighting back a wave of anger.

Papa slipped an arm around her shoulder, as though sensing her thoughts. “You’re better off,” he murmured. “I’m proud of you.”

She leaned against him, bolstered by his nearness.

A young woman Luellen didn’t recognize sat on a bench in front of the cottage. She lifted her hand and waved at Daniel as they rolled past. He removed his hat and waved it back at her, a wide grin filling his face.

After passing an expanse of empty acreage, he stopped the wagon before a square clapboard building. Newly milled lumber gleamed yellow in the sun. Daniel jumped from the wagon. Papa followed, reaching up to help Luellen.

Like a child with a new toy, Daniel bounded ahead and flung open the door. “Miss Luellen, I want you should see this.” He disappeared inside.

“What?”

“Wait and see.” Papa took her elbow and supported her over the rough ground in front of the stoop.

The fragrance of freshly cut wood filled the small room. Daniel stood next to a table in the center of the living area. The corner of a tall bedstead showed through the doorway behind him. “D’you think a lady would like this house?”

“I’m sure she would.” Luellen strove to keep her tone neutral.

“Look at this. I made it special.” He pointed to a step-back cupboard against one wall. One of the open shelves contained a row of books.

Curious, she moved closer to read the titles. He had a full set of
Leatherstocking Tales
, a volume by Edgar Allan Poe, and several books of poetry. She couldn’t hide her surprise. “You read all these books since last spring?”

“I’m working on it. I bought all them because of you.”

Her heart plummeted. “Daniel, I—”

“If you hadn’t learned me to read, yon Prudy Gibbs wouldn’t never have agreed to marry me. She’s almost smart as you are.”

“Prudy Gibbs?” She swung a glance at Papa for clarification.

“The young woman outside your former cottage.” He looked delighted at her surprise. “Daniel asked me how best to give you the news, and I thought it might be a good idea to tell you this way.”

“I can’t thank you enough.” Daniel stepped forward, holding his hat in front of his chest. “I’ve had my sights on Prudy for a long time, but never guessed she’d have me.”

“I’m happy for you.” Luellen’s face heated. When would she learn not to jump to conclusions?

Another lesson to take back to Allenwood. Perhaps she was too hasty in assuming she couldn’t ask Dr. Alexander to allow her to retake the algebra exam. It wouldn’t hurt to try.

Luellen filled a valise with David’s gowns and diapers for the journey. She stepped back, surveying her bedroom. An open trunk, piled with both her clothing and clothes to accommodate a growing baby for the next three months, rested under the window. David lay on top of the bed watching her movements. She flopped down beside him.

“This will be your first train ride. Are you excited?”

David gurgled and blew a spit bubble around his thumb, his blue eyes filled with trust.

Her stomach churned. What if taking her baby with her caused him harm? She pushed her fears away. She’d come too far to back down now.

“Are you almost ready?” Mama stood in the doorway.

“Another twenty minutes. I just need to get us both dressed for travel.”

“I’ll take care of David for you.” Mama lifted him, kissing his cheeks. “It’s been a joy having a baby in the house.” She slipped a white muslin gown over his head. “I confess I was worried about you taking him away from us, but I’ve watched how you’ve balanced caring for David with tutoring your students. He’s thriving. You’ll do well at Allenwood.”

Luellen exhaled, unaware until that moment that she’d been holding her breath. “Your confidence means everything to me.” She slipped into a new royal blue skirt and fastened hooks and eyes on the matching flowered bodice. After sweeping her hair into a twist at the back of her head, she took a straw bonnet from a peg and tied the blue ribbon under her chin.

“You look ready for anything.”

“I pray you’re right.”

Boarding the train brought back memories of Belle escorting her home last May. Luellen was bursting to show David to her friend. One more day and they’d be reunited—during classes at least. The rest of the time Luellen would be living at Mrs. Hawks’s and caring for David in her free time. In hindsight, her early days at Allenwood were carefree by comparison.

The passenger car reeked of overheated humanity. Luellen struggled to carry David and a heavy valise while searching for an empty seat. When she found a spot, she dropped the bag and sank onto the hard wooden bench. Her son wiggled and whimpered.

“Hush.” She peered out the open window for one final wave as the train lurched into motion. Good-byes never got easier. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she settled David on her lap and draped her shawl over the two of them. He howled in earnest while she hurried to unfasten her bodice.

Once he quieted at his meal, she looked around at the other passengers. Across the aisle, a saggy-jowled older woman locked eyes with her. “I hope that child isn’t going to cry throughout our journey.” Her face pinched into a frown.

Luellen wiped perspiration from her forehead. “I hope so too.” She held her gaze until the other woman dropped hers. It was going to be a long ride.

Sunset unfurled orange ribbons across the station as the train rolled into Plymouth Mills for a supper stop. Brakes screeched along the track. Luellen rocked forward, slamming backward when the car came to a halt.

Startled awake, David wailed, earning a glare from across the aisle. The woman gathered her skirts and plunged out of the car, muttering under her breath about mothers who ought to stay home with their infants.