Hope at Dawn

by Stacie Henrie

  Friedrick dropped his fork into the tin and captured her wrist before she could snag another bite. The realization that Livy was unattached infused him with new energy. He felt as though he could sprint home and back again. “You mean that? You’re done seeing him?”

  “Yes,” she said softly. “I’m through with letting him hurt me like that. I want…” She swallowed and blushed. The color only added to her appeal.

  He bent toward her, his focus as much on her words as her lips. “What do you want, Livy?” Did she want him, despite all the obstacles in their way?

  “I—”

  A knock at the door interrupted them. Friedrick stifled an audible groan and sat back. Of all the moments, someone would choose to drop by the school. He released Livy’s hand so she could answer the door.

  “That’s probably Mr. Keller.” Livy rose slowly to her feet. Her apologetic expression eased some of Friedrick’s annoyance at the disruption. The neighbors had been more than kind to him and Livy.

  He listened to the murmur of conversation at the door, which was followed by a happy shout. Both Mr. and Mrs. Keller entered the room.

  “Praise be to God,” Mrs. Keller said in German. She hurried over and gripped Friedrick’s face between her hands. “We will get you home right now. My husband will fetch the wagon.”

  “Yes, yes,” Mr. Keller said, hurrying toward the door.

  “Your mother has been beside herself with worry,” Mrs. Keller added. “She will be so happy.” She glanced at the untidy room and said to Livy in English, “I help clean?”

  “Thank you, yes.”

  The two of them set about gathering up the food and straightening the room. Friedrick watched helplessly for a few moments before he located his socks and boots. He pulled them on, though the simple task still took longer than normal.

  His chance to renew his conversation with Livy never materialized, not with Mrs. Keller around. Her husband soon returned and told Friedrick the wagon was waiting out front.

  “My children come next day you open,” Mr. Keller said to Livy. Mrs. Keller nodded agreement.

  Livy glanced between them, her face incredulous. “For school?”

  “Ha. Not cleaning lessons.” Mr. Keller laughed. “Surprised, no? You care for our Friedrick and now you teach my children.”

  Livy grinned and grasped the man’s hand, propelling it up and down. “Thank you both so much.”

  He pulled his hand back and waved at Friedrick. “We go now, boy. Come.” The man helped him onto his feet. Friedrick swayed a bit but remained upright.

  Mrs. Keller and Livy led the way out of the school, their arms full of food. With Mr. Keller’s assistance, Friedrick shuffled after them.

  Even at his height, Friedrick still had to keep his feet moving rapidly to keep up with Mr. Keller’s brisk pace. The man’s excitement was contagious, though. Friedrick couldn’t help smiling as Mr. Keller helped him into the wagon bed beside the food. He would be home soon.

  Of course, that meant leaving Livy.

  He managed to sit up as Mr. Keller and his wife climbed onto the seat above him. Livy stood beside the wagon, her hand resting on the worn wood.

  “Thank you, Livy.” Friedrick covered her fingers with his. Would she sense all that he wanted to say but couldn’t in the Kellers’ company?

  “You’re welcome, Friedrick.” Her green eyes deepened with emotion. “I’ll see you soon?” It came out a question. The wagon lurched forward, forcing Livy to jump back.

  “The first moment I can,” he called to her.

  Though his muscles screamed at him to lie down, he remained sitting until he could no longer see her standing, arms folded, beside the schoolhouse.

  * * *

  “Good morning, class.” Livy almost convinced herself with her cheerful tone. “It’s good to see all of you again. I would also like to extend a special welcome to the Kellers.” She motioned to John and his sisters. They smiled at her from their respective desks.

  She mustered a smile in return as she rubbed at her tired eyes. Despite sleeping nearly a whole day after Friedrick had left for home, exhaustion still plagued her. Nursing him back to health, scrubbing the school from top to bottom in order to reopen it, and several restless nights had depleted her energy, leaving circles under her lashes.

  She missed Friedrick terribly, especially after spending every waking moment with him. Surely a lifetime had passed, instead of a week, since she’d seen him last. Did she come as often to his mind as he did to hers?

  “Miss Campbell?” Henry waved his arm from his seat at the back, returning Livy’s attention to the class.

  “Yes, Henry.”

  “Where did that poster go?”

  Livy cocked her head in confusion. “I’m sorry, Henry. What are you talking about?”

  “The liberty bond poster.” He pointed at the blackboard. “Where’d it go?”

  As she turned toward the front wall, remembering rushed in. The poster—the one she’d burned the afternoon Friedrick had first taken ill. She hadn’t given much thought to the children noticing its absence or how to explain her change of heart.

  Livy offered a quick prayer for courage and rotated to face her students. It was one thing to admit she’d made a mistake to Friedrick; it was quite another to do so to a group of children who’d placed their trust in her.

  “As you can see, I removed the poster,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “I decided its message was not one I wanted us to ponder over each school day. Which means…” She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. “I was in error and I apologize.”

  Henry’s face scrunched in puzzlement. “I thought that school fellow told you to put it up. Aren’t you gonna get in trouble?”

  “Going to get in trouble,” Livy corrected. “Possibly. But I hope I will have the chance to explain to Mr. Foster that we do not need to hang a war bond poster in our classroom to remind us we are Americans.” The words resounded with clarity and truth in her own ears and strengthened her confidence in her decision to do away with the poster. “We show we are Americans by how we live. By how we cherish and honor freedom. By how we treat our fellow men and women. By how we act with strength and faith, not fear.”

  Her speech sparked a sudden idea. Livy smiled, her earlier fatigue forgotten. “Which is why we will not be doing geography this morning. Instead we are going to draw our own posters.”

  The children exchanged surprised looks. Excited conversations broke out among them like wildfires.

  Livy clapped her hands to regain their attention. “I will turn you loose in a moment,” she said with a laugh. “Instructions first. I want you to draw something you feel best expresses your love for this country. Something that honors America and its founding virtues. Then we’ll place your posters around the room.”

  She pulled out her drawing pencils and paper from her desk and had the children come up row by row. Once the students were engrossed in their assignment, Livy sat in her chair and placed a blank sheet of paper in front of herself. What should she draw?

  She thought a minute, then began making strokes across the page. The images soon took shape beneath her hand, a simple black-and-white rendition of a scene Greta had described to her.

  When she’d finished, Livy blew on the paper and studied her creation. It was a sketch of Friedrick reading from the Bible. Harlan and Greta were seated at his feet, their backs to the viewer, so their faces weren’t visible.

  Livy crossed to the north windows and propped the picture up on one of the ledges. She stepped back to scrutinize her work. A genuine smile lifted her mouth. The simple picture represented her love of home and family and the freedom to teach the younger generation.

  As the children completed their posters, they brought them to Livy to place on the various windowsills. There were flags, Fourth of July picnics, a soldier, families, and an impressive sketch of a naval ship by Henry. The sight of so many cherished drawings caused a temporary lump in her throat, and she ha
d to swallow hard to dislodge it.

  “Thank you,” she said as the students settled back into their seats. “I hope the superintendent will be as impressed with your efforts as I am.”

  The rest of the day raced by, but Livy felt little of her earlier weariness. The thrill of doing something unconventional, and out of the ordinary, carried her through her lessons. It wasn’t until she bade the children good-bye that the exhaustion caught up with her again and she sat back on her desk with a sigh.

  “Bye, Miss Campbell,” Harlan said. He and Greta were the last to leave. “I like your drawing. That’s me and Greta, huh? And Friedrick?”

  “Yes, it is.” Livy climbed to her feet. “Is Friedrick coming to pick you up today?”

  She knew the answer before Harlan shook his head. If Friedrick had meant to come, he would have already arrived. Sharp disappointment mingled with her tiredness. Another day without seeing him. “Is he fully recovered yet?”

  Harlan’s nose wrinkled in thought. “I guess so. He won’t let Mama make him stay in bed anymore.”

  “That’s a good sign,” Livy said with forced merriment. Knowing Friedrick felt better and hadn’t come to see her caused a dull ache to form in her middle. “Has he had lots of visitors?”

  Greta took up the narrative. “Not really, but Maria’s come by a few times. Mama says that’s ’cause she likes him.”

  Harlan made a face, which made Livy laugh, despite the jealousy she felt at the mention of Maria. “What’s the matter, Harlan? Don’t you like Maria?”

  “I don’t know. She’s kind of bossy, always makin’ us leave the room when she comes over.” His boyish face brightened a moment later. “But Friedrick usually figures out a way to have us come back in.”

  Good. A twinge of guilt made Livy take the thought back. She wanted Friedrick to be happy.

  “You two better run along now. Your mother will be expecting you.”

  The pair waved good-bye and raced outside. The click of the door sounded loud in the silent room. Livy called on the last shreds of her energy to sweep the floor, straighten the desks, and gather the written assignments the students had done before leaving. When she reached Harlan’s desk, she discovered he’d left behind the book she’d loaned him from her own collection.

  “Oh well, I’ll see he gets it tomorrow,” she murmured to herself. She’d been doing that more and more the last few days. Without Friedrick to talk to or care for, the loneliness pressed in on her again. Only the sound of a human voice, even her own, seemed to hold it at bay.

  What would she do when Friedrick did return to his job at the school? They couldn’t go back to simply being friends, not after the familiarity they’d shared during his illness.

  It hadn’t taken Livy long after Friedrick’s recovery to realize that she yearned to be more than friends with him. Especially when he’d taken her wrist in his firm grip and asked her what she wanted. She’d been about to tell him the truth—that she wanted him for a beau—when the Kellers had interrupted.

  Livy shook her head at her own foolishness. She’d have to be content with being Friedrick’s friend and nothing more. How could they be anything else, with so many people watching and their jobs in jeopardy should they make one false move?

  Had coming to Hilden really been the answer to her problems all those weeks ago? she wondered as she divided up the written compositions by grade level. Or had this job simply created new challenges in her life?

  At the sound of boots against the floorboards, Livy lifted her head. She hadn’t heard the door open. Perhaps Harlan had returned for his book.

  “Did you come back for your—” The words stuck in her throat when she turned and found Friedrick standing at the back of the room. Her heart drummed faster at seeing him again. He looked so tall and healthy and handsome. “I…um…thought you were Harlan. I loaned him a book, but he forgot it.”

  She faced her desk again, her back to Friedrick. She had to hide from those intense blue eyes. If she didn’t, she feared she’d run straight into his arms and ruin everything she’d worked so hard for. She plucked up the remaining stack of papers and continued her sorting.

  “I like all the drawings.”

  “They did turn out well, didn’t they?” She glanced at the one she’d drawn of him. Had he noticed? Would he approve or be embarrassed, especially if he still harbored feelings for Maria? “I thought they might take the place of Mr. Foster’s poster. Show we’re still patriotic here…”

  Friedrick made no reply, and the ensuing quiet thundered as loudly in her ears as her pulse. “Harlan said you were feeling better.” Her high-pitched voice betrayed her nervousness. “Did they know you were coming by? I would have had them stay.”

  “I passed them on the way.” He sounded closer, though Livy hadn’t heard his footsteps. “I had to see about a few things here first.”

  Livy read the name on the paper in her hand twice before she was able to set it in its proper pile. “I won’t be in your way; I’m almost finished.” She didn’t want him to feel obligated to talk to her simply because she was there. “Once I’m done sorting these papers, I need to clean my cabin. I scrubbed this place spotless so we could reopen it today. But my own house still needs a good…”

  Her senseless chatter faded into silence when she felt his hands on her shoulders. His breath brushed the back of her neck, causing gooseflesh to run along her arms. She shivered and clutched the stack of papers tightly to her chest, the edges biting into her fingers. Maybe that would stop her heart from racing.

  “I’ve missed you, Livy,” Friedrick murmured against her hair.

  “I haven’t gone anywhere.” The accusation didn’t sound as angry as she’d meant it, but she was having difficulty thinking. Especially with him standing so close she could feel his strong chest against her back. She needed to stop swooning over him. What if someone saw them? She didn’t want to lose her job and never see him again, even if staying meant pretending to be nothing more than friends.

  “Why didn’t you come sooner?” she asked softly as she turned to face him. Friedrick lowered his hands to his sides, but his tender gaze still held her captive and made her gulp.

  “I would have, but regaining my strength took longer than I’d thought. Then there was spring planting to be done.” He lifted his thumb and stroked her cheek. The action sparked a memory. Livy had been half-asleep, but she’d felt his caress on her face and lower lip the day he’d recovered. His touch felt as wonderful today as it had then. “I’m here now and there’s something I need to tell you.”

  “Me, too.”

  He chuckled. The low sound sent a quiver of anticipation through her middle. “You first.”

  Livy took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. The words would come easier if she couldn’t see his handsome face. “I hope you and Maria will be happy.”

  “Me and Maria?” Friedrick tilted her chin upward, forcing her to look at him. She had to remind herself not to get lost in the blueness of his eyes, which had deepened to the color of twilight. “What are you talking about?”

  She blinked, trying to remember. “Harlan…he told me Maria’s come to visit several times. I’m sure Elsa approves of her…” Livy couldn’t make herself say “more than me.”

  “You think I like Maria?” He laughed softly again, the warmth of his breath feathering her cheeks.

  “Yes,” Livy whispered, though the admission sounded foolish given the way Friedrick was smiling at her. “Er…maybe?”

  She swallowed hard as his expression changed from amusement to somberness. He cupped her face between his hands and eyed her mouth. Livy’s heart hurtled against her ribs; she couldn’t seem to get a proper breath. Her eyes fell shut as Friedrick brought his lips down on hers—gently at first, then firmly. His kiss created a wellspring of emotion within her—happiness, safety, fear, joy.

  When Friedrick stepped back, Livy sat down hard on the edge of the desk, her fingers straying to her mouth. Her lips still tingl
ed from his touch. “So you…don’t like Maria?”

  He tugged the stack of papers from her grip and set them on the desk, then he helped her to her feet. His hands went to her waist and he drew her closer. “I am not, nor have I ever been, in love with Maria Schmitt. She is a charming, pretty girl. But she’s not you. I told her as much before you and I went dancing. Her visits this last week have meant nothing to me.”

  “Really?” Livy didn’t care that the word came out breathless. Friedrick cared as much for her as she did for him? The joyful realization was short-lived. “But…I don’t see how we can do this, Friedrick.”

  “Why not?”

  She folded her arms against a sudden shiver and leaned against him. His solid frame erased some of her fears, though not her logic. He wrapped his arms around her. “What about Mr. Foster? Or your mother?” Or her own family?

  Would her siblings accept Friedrick as her beau? Would her parents? They’d been courteous to him when he’d driven her home for Tom’s memorial service, but they’d also been in shock. Would they feel differently now?

  “You can’t lose your job, and I don’t want to lose mine either.” She couldn’t go home yet, not after realizing how much Friedrick meant to her.

  “Livy, look at me.” He released her so she could see his face, though he kept her close, his hands clasping her shoulders. “I care about you—a lot.” He brushed an errant hair off her forehead. The simple gesture renewed the flutters in her stomach. “Somehow we’ll make this work.”

  As she peered into his eyes, the deep sincerity reflected there filled and bound up her bruised heart. Here was a man she could trust—a man who would cherish and protect her.

  “All right,” she agreed.

  Friedrick pulled her toward him and kissed her again. The gentle press of his mouth blocked all other thoughts from her mind, save this moment. Livy wound her hands around his neck as he deepened the kiss.