Hope at Dawn

by Stacie Henrie

  Friedrick appeared in the window in front of her. She glanced over her shoulder at Mrs. Smithson. The woman was occupied with examining her daughter’s scraped knee.

  “Hello,” she mouthed to Friedrick. He repeated the word silently back. Livy leaned forward to place her hand against the glass. Friedrick did the same. Although the pane separated her hand from his, Livy still believed she could feel the warmth of his touch as if nothing divided them.

  “Is that man German?”

  Livy bit back a cry as she whirled around. Thankfully Mrs. Smithson wasn’t looking at her. She pressed a hand to her throat to still her racing heartbeat. She had to be more careful around Friedrick. The thought renewed some of her earlier fears. Would it always be like this? Stealing moments together and hoping no one saw?

  What had the woman asked her? “Uh, yes, he is German-American.” Livy added emphasis to the last word, but it made little difference to Mrs. Smithson.

  “Goodness, Livy.” She stood, her eyes wide with shock. “I don’t like to think of you here, alone, with someone like him.”

  Someone like him? Livy wanted to tell her she felt safer with Friedrick than any other man she’d ever met, including Robert. Emmaline whimpered right then, saving Livy from having to formulate an answer.

  “I suppose we’d better get you home,” Mrs. Smithson said to her daughter. “I was hoping to visit with you longer, Livy. Maybe another time.”

  “Yes. Another time.”

  Livy set down the pictures in her hand and followed them to the door. As they walked out, Harlan suddenly rounded the corner, nearly colliding with Mrs. Smithson and Emmaline.

  “Watch yourself, young man,” the woman snapped. She pulled Emmaline to her side as though she feared having her daughter even stand near a German-American child.

  Harlan ignored her and raced up to Livy. “Miss Campbell?” He motioned for her to bend down so he could say something in her ear. Livy obeyed.

  “Friedrick said he’ll stop by your cabin tonight,” he whispered, “after evening chores.”

  Livy hid her smile, especially since Mrs. Smithson was watching. “That sounds like a good idea,” she told Harlan by way of an answer. The boy seemed to understand. With a nod, he rushed away.

  “I think we ought to walk you to your home, Livy.” Mrs. Smithson clutched her daughter’s hand. “It would make me feel ever so much better. Does your mother know your situation here?”

  By “situation,” Livy gathered she meant being surrounded by German-Americans. She chose her response carefully. “My parents are supportive of my dream to be a teacher, regardless of the potential challenges.” More from people like you than anyone else.

  “Well, that eases my mind some, but I would like to see your place before we go.”

  Livy swallowed a sigh. If the woman insisted on coming to the cabin, an opportunity to talk with Friedrick this afternoon would be lost. Even if Mrs. Smithson didn’t stay long, the woman’s unexpected arrival had shaken Livy’s confidence. At least she’d see Friedrick tonight, with hopefully no more interruptions. “Let me get my things.”

  She entered the school and collected her coat, lunch, and Mrs. Smithson’s basket. Friedrick was still working on the north wall. After quickly placing the drawings she’d gathered up back onto the windowsills, Livy tapped the glass to get his attention. He lifted his eyes, a silent question there.

  “Tonight?” he mouthed.

  She gave a vigorous nod. “Tonight,” she repeated.

  Somehow she forced herself to walk away from the window, knowing she wasn’t just leaving Friedrick. She was leaving her heart behind, too.

  * * *

  Livy rechecked her appearance in the bureau mirror and pinched her cheeks. She’d put on her blue silk dress, as if Friedrick were picking her up for a real outing in town. For a few moments, she imagined a lovely evening out with her would-be beau, free of worries about their jobs or what others might think. Instead they had to meet here in secret as though they’d done something wrong.

  She crossed to the little kitchen and laid out forks and plates beside the spice cake she’d made that afternoon. Everything was ready. She glanced at the clock on the mantel. Friedrick hadn’t been specific about the time, but with an hour or so to go until dark, she figured he’d be over soon.

  To pass the time, she picked up her sketchbook. She opened it to a blank page and began filling the white space with scrawls and lines. She wasn’t entirely conscious of what she was drawing until she recognized Tom’s face in front of her. She’d drawn him in his army uniform, his face lit with a grin.

  As she stared at the sketch, she waited for the intense sadness to settle over her at knowing Tom was gone. Tonight, though, it didn’t come. Instead she felt only gratitude—gratitude for having Tom in her life as long as she had.

  The rumble of a car engine out front brought her head up. The room had grown dim. Livy stood and lit the lamp, throwing another look at the clock. Almost eight. Friedrick must have been held up by something at the farm, but surely he would still come.

  A sudden knock at the door made her jump. She hadn’t heard Friedrick’s wagon. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and hurried to let Friedrick in.

  “Fried—” The rest of his name died in her throat.

  “Hi-ya, Livy.” Robert swept his hat off and flashed a smile. “Surprised to see me?”

  Livy gripped the door for support. This had to be a nightmare. How had he found her? Was he drunk? “Wh-What are you doing here, Robert? I thought we agreed not to see each other anymore.”

  With the use of his cane, he strode past her into the cabin. “That’s no way to treat an old beau, is it? So this is your place, huh? Not much to look at—inside or out.”

  Livy bit back a retort as she frantically searched the road out front for a sign of Friedrick. Panic shortened her breathing when she realized no one else was about. She was on her own—with Robert.

  Heart heavy, she shut the door and faced him. “You didn’t answer my question. What are you doing here?”

  He stopped his investigation of the room long enough to throw her another smile. “I missed you, so I got it in my head to drive up here today and see how you were faring.”

  “Did my…um…parents tell you where to find me?” Surely her father and mother wouldn’t have sent him. Livy had told them everything about Robert before she’d returned to Hilden—all about his drinking problems and how she’d ended things between them.

  “Didn’t ask them. I knew you’d taken a job in Hilden, so I stopped by the superintendent’s house in town. Nice fellow. He told me which school was yours.” Robert crossed to the table and glanced down at her open sketchbook. “Looks like you still got time for your little drawings.”

  Irritation surged inside Livy at his comment, but she tamped it down with thoughts of how quickly she could get Robert to leave. She picked up her sketch things and shoved them into one of the bureau drawers. “How are your mother and father? I didn’t get to speak to them very much while I was home.”

  Robert sat uninvited in one of the chairs. He set his hat on the table and leaned his cane against his knee. “My folks are fine. They asked about you the other day.”

  “That was kind.”

  “’Course I didn’t have much to report, seeing as you haven’t written once.”

  Livy searched his face—was he angry or resigned—but his eyes were focused on the low flames in the fireplace.

  “You like it here?”

  “It’s been a good experience,” she answered warily. What was his real reason for coming all this way?

  He turned to look at her again. “Must get awful lonely here by yourself.”

  She lifted her shoulders in a noncommittal shrug and went to add another log to the fire.

  “Have you missed me at all, Livy?”

  The melancholy note in his voice was meant to secure her compassion, as it had in the past. But she’d changed during her time in Hilden—s
he wouldn’t be so easily taken in by his calculated tone or words.

  “I don’t know why you’ve even thought of me.” She gave a false laugh as she clutched the mantel tightly in her hand. “There are plenty of other girls at church for you to see.”

  Robert rubbed a finger over the tabletop. “Things have been a little different since you left the other week.”

  “Oh?” Alarms rang inside her head. Robert was finally getting to his true purpose for seeing her, and she knew she wasn’t going to like it.

  “Mama swore she wouldn’t give me money to buy more alcohol.” His laughter came out harsh and bitter. Livy shivered at the ugly sound, even as she silently cheered Mrs. Drake for putting her foot down at last. “I haven’t touched the stuff in days. Honest. But things are no good without you around. No one else listens like you. Or understands like you.”

  Livy refused to be pulled in by his persuasions or promises, but she could offer her sincere relief. She crossed the room to stand beside his chair. “I’m proud of you for giving up that awful stuff, Robert.”

  “Come back, Livy,” he pleaded. “We can be married. You still love me, don’t you?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, knowing the pain her answer would cause him. Though her feelings for him had changed, she would remember with fondness the happier memories they’d made together—Robert had been her first beau, after all. But she’d learned a great deal from coming to know Friedrick. Love meant hope and respect and affection between two people. Not manipulation and constant heartache.

  “I can’t. I told you that when I was home.” She opened her eyes to look at him properly. “My life is here now. I’m sorry, Robert.”

  He didn’t respond right away, and the silence between them stretched on for almost a minute, tight and sharp.

  “Perhaps you’d better—”

  The scrape of his chair as he stood bit off her words. “I’m sorry, Livy. But I can’t accept that.” He shoved his hat on his head.

  “I don’t know what you mean.” She kept her head held high, despite the cord of fear winding its way through her at his sudden change in demeanor.

  “You really think I came all this way to get rebuffed a third time? I need you to come with me.” Robert gripped her wrist with his free hand. His fingers cut into her skin.

  Livy’s heart leapt in terror. Did he mean to forcibly drag her back home? She wouldn’t go willingly. “Let go, Robert,” she said in an icy voice. “I’m staying here.”

  “That’s where you’re mistaken.”

  Despite having to use his cane, he easily hauled her toward the door. Livy tugged against his grip, but it was like struggling against steel. He set his cane against the wall, long enough to yank her coat off its peg and throw it at her. She caught it with one hand and held it to her chest as if the thin fabric could protect her.

  She’d never seen him so angry, at least not when he’d been sober. The absence of alcohol had brought out all the ugliness she’d sensed ruminating inside him.

  “Like I said, things aren’t going quite so well back home.” Robert glanced around the cabin, his gaze dark and wild. “Once you left this last time, word got out about…my coping skills. None of the other girls in town will talk to me. Which is why I need you, Livy. Everything will be fine once you come home.”

  “I can’t just walk away from this job,” she tried reasoning. “I have to teach. My parents could use the extra money.” She gulped in a few deep breaths to try to calm her pounding heartbeat. “Why don’t you sit back down and I’ll make you some coffee?” That had helped him when he was drunk—maybe it would also help him when he was mean and sober.

  “No. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us. Now open the door.”

  Afraid to defy him, Livy reached past him and opened the door. Cool night air rushed in, bringing her renewed courage. Robert tightened his grasp on her hand as he started outside, but this time, Livy planted her feet and held on to the door frame. “I am not going anywhere with you. We’re through, Robert. I’m sorry if you can’t accept that, but I will not be bullied into—”

  His unexpected slap sent her head reeling backward and into the edge of the door. Prickles of light danced before Livy’s gaze, and a wave of nausea rolled through her. She gingerly touched the side of her forehead. Her fingers came away wet with blood.

  Robert released a soft curse. “Look, Livy, I’m sorry.” His voice sounded farther away, though he still held her wrist in a vise. “I just need you to get into the car.”

  She shook her head, but the movement only increased the throbbing pain. “No…please…leave me alone. I just…need…to sit…” The room had begun to spin. She couldn’t keep Robert’s stern face in focus. Would he haul her to the car once she fainted? She would be no match for him then.

  Before he could drag her away, though, a familiar deep voice penetrated the fog in Livy’s head. “Let her go—now!”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Friedrick strode toward the cabin, his hands fisted at his sides. Anger crackled along his skin. The dark trickle on Livy’s forehead brought bile to his throat. With effort, he kept his voice calm as he repeated his demand. “I said, let her go.”

  Robert sneered at him without releasing Livy’s wrist. A neglected cane sat in the dirt near his boots. “You’re the fellow who drove her home the other week.”

  “Yes. And now I’m here to inform you that your visit is over. I suggest you get inside that automobile of yours. Unless you need an escort.”

  “Please, Robert,” Livy whispered from the doorway. “You need to leave.”

  Friedrick stepped closer, ignoring Robert in his concern for Livy. In addition to the cut on her forehead, a red mark marred her cheek. A new surge of fury rose inside him. Robert had struck her.

  Unable to contain his disgust any longer, Friedrick grabbed Robert by the collar and shoved him up against the door frame. “You think you’re someone important because you fought in this war?” Friedrick stuck his face close to Robert’s. “You’re nothing but a coward. A real man never strikes a lady. I ought to return the favor…” He let the threat hang in the air between them. He wouldn’t make good on it, as much as he wanted to, unless Robert threw the first punch.

  “Friedrick, don’t.” Livy stumbled to a chair and sank into it, her face pale. “Just let him leave. I’ll be fine.”

  Friedrick forced his fingers to let go of Robert’s shirt, then he stepped back.

  “Friedrick, huh?” Robert’s eyes blazed in the lamplight spilling from the cabin. “This is why you won’t come back with me? You’ve taken up with some Boche?”

  Friedrick lifted his fist partway at the ugly name, but he lowered his hand just as quickly. He needed to keep his anger in check. Ignoring Robert, he entered the cabin and walked over to Livy. “Are you all right?” he asked in a low voice.

  She lifted her chin and nodded, despite the unshed tears glistening in her eyes.

  “We need to wash that cut.” He searched the room for a towel.

  “A German!” Robert still sputtered from his spot in the doorway. “You throw me off for a German? Never thought of you as a traitor, Olivia Campbell.”

  Friedrick rose to his feet and glared at the man. Robert didn’t look or act drunk, which likely made him all the more dangerous tonight. “You’ve said your piece. Now get out before I have to throw you out.”

  Robert drew himself up to his full height—several inches shorter than Friedrick. “Why don’t you, Boche? You call me cowardly, but you’re not fighting in this war. What’s the matter? Too afraid?”

  The anger Friedrick had managed to assuage for a few moments boiled up with new energy. His pulse throbbed hot and hard in his neck, and his jaw tightened.

  “Or maybe you’re collaborating with your little buddies overseas. Is that it?” The unmasked hate in Robert’s eyes as he spoke matched the feeling searing Friedrick’s throat.

  He fought the voice in his head screaming for him to pummel Robert,
and instead he walked calmly to the door. He wouldn’t strike an injured man, no matter the poison seeping from Robert’s mouth. “It’s time for you to go—now.”

  Robert’s punch hit Friedrick square in the jaw, radiating pain through his head. Friedrick stumbled back. He heard Livy gasp.

  “You’re wrong if you think I’m gonna leave now,” Robert snarled. “For all I know, you might be waiting around to take advantage of Livy. Just like your soldier buddies over there in Germany. A good citizen like me has to protect our women from vicious brutes like—”

  Friedrick rammed his shoulder into Robert’s midsection, dropping them both to the ground outside the cabin. The impact stung his arm and leg, but Friedrick scrambled up quickly enough to avoid Robert’s flying foot. He blocked the doorway to keep the man from entering a second time.

  “Get going,” Friedrick hissed through clenched teeth. He scooped up Robert’s cane from off the ground and tossed it at the man’s feet.

  Robert used the cane to rise slowly. “You”—he pointed at Friedrick—“will regret this. You, too, Livy,” he hollered. Friedrick sensed her standing behind him. Robert shot a final look of loathing at Friedrick before he limped to his automobile and cranked the engine.

  Friedrick didn’t wait for him to climb inside the vehicle. Instead he shut the door and led Livy back to her chair. She collapsed into it with a soft cry. One hand rose to cover her mouth as she leaned her elbow on the table.

  The sight of Livy so despondent destroyed the last remnants of his fury, replacing it with guilt. Always guilt. If only he’d finished the evening chores sooner, he would have been here when Robert had first arrived. Then the man wouldn’t have hurt Livy—again.

  “He’s gone now,” Friedrick offered lamely. What could he say or do to make things better for her? “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to come sooner.” He put his hand on her shoulder and felt her shaking.