Livy stood and buried her head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. Her quiet sobs flooded out onto his shirt as he stroked her soft hair and murmured reassurances in her ear.
Several minutes later she eased away from him. “I got your shirt wet.” She touched the water mark near his shoulder.
Friedrick didn’t even spare a glance at it. “It’ll dry. How’s your forehead?”
Livy fingered it. “A little sore.”
“Let me clean it up before I go.” Friedrick located a towel and dipped a corner of it in the water pot on the stove. “Sit down.”
When she complied, Friedrick knelt in front of her and gently dabbed the rag to the cut. His careful ministrations washed the dried blood from her forehead. His gaze kept straying to Livy’s large, green eyes and her kissable mouth pursed in concentration. He wanted to taste her lips again as he had yesterday, but he knew the impropriety of doing so with the two of them alone in her cabin. Still, he drew out the simple task of caring for her for the chance to stare into her pretty face a little longer.
Digging deep for resolve, he lowered the rag and sat back on his heels. “It doesn’t look deep. I think it should be fine in a day or two. What will you tell the children tomorrow at school?”
“That I walked into a door?”
Friedrick gave a humorless laugh. “That might work.”
“Do you think he’ll make good on his threat?” she asked.
“I don’t think there’s much he can do.”
“I didn’t expect him. I opened the door, thinking it was you. If he’d just stayed away.” She reached for Friedrick’s hand and locked her fingers in his. “You look a little worse for the wear, too.”
Friedrick rubbed his jaw. “That former beau of yours has a solid right jab.” As he watched Livy, an idea formed in his mind, a way to salvage the evening and bring a smile to her face. “In fact, I think my jaw needs some doctoring.” He feigned a pained expression.
A knowing glint entered her eyes. “I see. How about this?” She leaned forward and whispered a kiss against his jaw. He fought a grin—his plan had worked. “Any better?”
“Some, but it hurts here, too.” He pointed to his chin.
She placed a kiss near his mouth, as she’d done the night they’d gone to the dance hall. “Better now?”
“Sort of. Except I think my lip hurts the worst.”
“Your lip looks fine to me.”
“I know, but the hurt’s deeper.” His words, meant to tease, changed the air in the room from playful to serious. How could he let Livy go, even for the sake of his family? He loved her, plain and simple. With her, he felt like a hero—a man of worth and courage.
Livy bent toward him and pressed her lips to his. Friedrick gently held her neck with one hand and kissed her back for several long, glorious moments. Moments in which everything and everyone outside the cabin faded into unimportance. He had to call on every ounce of willpower to release her and climb to his feet.
“I’d better go. It won’t look good if I leave too late.”
Livy stood as well. “Thank you, Friedrick. If you hadn’t come…” She visibly swallowed.
He brushed a finger over her mouth. “Promise me you’ll keep the door locked. Don’t open it unless you know who it is first.”
“I promise.”
He placed a chaste kiss on her forehead and moved to the door.
“Friedrick?”
He turned around.
“What was the reason you wanted to meet tonight?”
Reality crashed into him as swiftly and hard as Robert’s fist. How could he tell her he’d come to end things between them?
“I wanted to see you,” he said with complete honesty. “Out from under the scrutinizing eyes of people like that woman today.”
She nodded, seeming to accept his answer. “I’m glad you did.”
Friedrick opened the door. “I thought I’d drive into town and pick up my paycheck tomorrow.” With everything that had happened the past few weeks, he still hadn’t gone into town to collect it. “Have you picked up yours yet?”
“No.”
“Then I’ll get it, if I’m allowed.”
“Thank you.” She rewarded him with the genuine smile he’d been hoping to coax from her.
“See you tomorrow, Livy.”
“Good night, Friedrick.”
He took another long look at her, then pulled the door shut behind him. Once he heard the lock click into place, he walked to where he’d parked his wagon beside the school. Above him the stars shone in a clear sky. Surely God hadn’t placed Livy in his life, only to pull her right back out of it. She was the only woman who saw him as more than German or American—the one person who made each day richer, happier, more hopeful.
The opposition raining down on their heads had likely just begun, if they chose to remain together. But Friedrick wouldn’t give Livy up without a fight. Somehow he would find a way to save his family and be free to love Livy, too.
* * *
Friedrick parked his wagon outside the brick building that housed the superintendent’s office. The midmorning sun felt almost hot against his back.
Whistling to himself, he opened the door and stepped inside. He’d walked into this same building nearly two months ago, and yet so much had happened in that time, most importantly meeting Livy again.
He ascended the stairs to the second floor. Down the short hall, Mr. Foster’s secretary sat at her desk outside the man’s office, reading a magazine. Seeing her again reminded Friedrick of their encounter in front of the Hilden jail. His good mood faded at the memory. She obviously hadn’t said anything to the superintendent yet, but seeing Friedrick might spark remembrance and action.
Friedrick paused, throwing a glance at the stairs behind him. If he left, he’d return to his family empty-handed. If he stayed, he might lose his job. He risked something either way.
But at least I’d be compensated for my recent work.
He removed his cap and strode up to her desk. “Is Mr. Foster in?” he asked in a confident tone.
“Not right now,” the secretary said without looking up. “Come back at four.”
“I need to pick up my paycheck. I’m Friedrick Wagner. The maintenance man at Township School Number 1.”
The magazine slowly fell away from her face, revealing wide eyes and an almost frightened expression. “Uh…yes. I can…um…get that for you.”
Friedrick watched as she sifted through one of the desk drawers. Her peculiar reaction to his appearance left him unsettled. She seemed to remember him, and yet he couldn’t reason why she would act afraid of him. The secretary removed a slip of paper and handed it to him.
“Thank you.” He folded the check and placed it in his shirt pocket. “Is it possible I could collect Miss Campbell’s, too? She’s the teacher there, but she doesn’t have a wagon or a car to get into town. She gave me permission to pick hers up as well.”
The secretary shook her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t give you hers. Mr. Foster will be delivering it himself. He would’ve taken yours, too, but he wasn’t sure if you’d be working at the school today.”
“Is he coming up for a visit then?”
She ducked her head, her next words directed at her lap. “You could say that,” she muttered.
Friedrick frowned—the woman acted as if she was hiding something, but he couldn’t figure out what. Still, he had his check and she didn’t seem inclined to bring up seeing him at the jail. “Thanks again,” he said and turned to leave.
“Just a moment.”
He faced her again, both curious and wary about what else she might say.
“There’s something I need to tell you.” The woman stood and came around the side of the desk. She glanced past Friedrick, down the hallway, before lowering her voice. “A man came in here today. He spent a long time in Mr. Foster’s office. I wouldn’t have paid the two of them any mind, but I heard him relay to Mr
. Foster how he’d been to talk to the sheriff. Seems he was upset about a certain German striking a former, wounded solider.”
Friedrick managed a nonchalant expression, though he ground his teeth together. He could easily guess who the man in Mr. Foster’s office had been. Robert had made good on his threat after all—and exaggerated his tale in doing so.
“Did he say anything else?” Friedrick pressed. He had to know the details if he wanted to protect Livy.
“They both piped down after that, so I didn’t hear anymore. After the man left, though, Foster came out grumbling about having to find another maintenance man and likely a new teacher, too.”
Friedrick’s jaw went slack as he stared at her. He—and possibly Livy—were being fired? It had come to this already. “What reason did he give for letting me go?” He didn’t bother to disguise his frustrated tone.
The secretary glanced down at her hands. “I didn’t ask, and he didn’t say. I’m sorry.”
Friedrick could only surmise Robert had found out about his jail stay and had informed Mr. Foster. Or shared a colorful version of the truth regarding Friedrick’s relationship with Livy. “Was this man tall with dark hair? Walks with a cane?”
“Yes, a Mr. Drake.”
Jamming his cap on his head, Friedrick paced away from her. “What does Mr. Foster plan to do at his visit to the school? Inform me I’ve been fired and tell Miss Campbell she might be as well?”
“I suppose.” He caught her apologetic look as he retraced his steps to her desk. “I think he wants to see where Miss Campbell’s loyalties truly lie. If she proves to be American enough for him, she’ll keep her job.”
Her words stopped Fredrick’s agitated steps. He had to warn Livy. A handful of patriotic sketches—especially one of him—might not be enough to tip the scales in her favor. Not since she’d decided against hanging the war bond poster and not if Mr. Foster had learned about his and Livy’s deepening friendship.
“When does he plan to make the visit?”
“This afternoon.” She returned to her seat.
He needed to leave, but one final question compelled him to stay a few moments more. “How come you never told Mr. Foster about seeing me in front of the jail? Or did you?” he added when she remained silent.
The secretary lifted her chin, a gesture that reminded Friedrick of Livy. “I never breathed a word about that, and it wasn’t because I didn’t recognize you. I knew at once you were being hauled in there, for Heaven knows why.” She bit her lip as if she’d said too much.
“Why keep silent then?”
Her response was scarcely more than a whisper. “My grandmother came here from Germany as a little girl.” She leveled him with a look, then picked up her magazine. “I have some things to do, Mr. Wagner. If you’d be good enough to be on your way.”
“Good day…” He paused, hoping she’d supply him with her name. He wanted to know whom to thank.
“Nellie,” she said, her face softening.
“Thank you, Nellie.”
“You’re welcome,” she mouthed before she glued her gaze to her magazine once more.
Friedrick hurried down the stairs, his boots echoing loudly off the walls. What would his family say when he told them he’d lost his job? They might try selling family heirlooms to pay for his father’s medicine, though people weren’t likely to buy things from Germans.
And Livy? Would he get there in time to warn her about Mr. Foster’s impending visit and tell her how sorry he was for complicating her life?
Elsa had been right. He and Livy couldn’t be together—not with the whole world fighting against them. The realization felt like a punch to his gut, bringing more pain than anger. Friedrick might be able to save her job, though, which would keep Livy close. With that determined thought, he sprinted out the door to his waiting wagon and team.
Chapter Fourteen
Five minutes to go before school ended for the day. And not a moment too soon, Livy thought wryly. The sunshine had been taunting the children since recess, making them chattier and more restless than usual.
The rumble of an automobile outside made her stomach twist with sudden nerves. A shadow of the fear she’d felt after Robert struck her last night wormed its way up her spine as well.
It can’t be Robert’s car, she told herself. He’s long gone by now.
Hands clasped together, she reined in her emotions and walked between the rows of desks as the children bent over their readers. Friedrick would be by soon, with a smile to make her day more complete. The thought soothed her nervousness. Everything was right in the world when he was near.
The sound of the door creaking open brought her head up, along with nearly every student. A moment later Mr. Foster entered the room, a grim expression on his face. Livy’s heart lurched in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to visit today, and in the late afternoon, no less. What would he think of the patriotic pictures lining the windowsills on either side of the room? The one she’d drawn of Friedrick felt as large as the war bond poster she’d destroyed. If only the superintendent wouldn’t notice it…
“Good day, Mr. Foster,” she said, coercing calm and pleasantness into her voice. “Children, let’s say hello to our school superintendent, Mr. Foster.”
A chorus of “Hello, Mr. Foster” filled the room. The man removed his hat and gave them a stiff nod.
“Is there something you wish to say to the class?” Livy asked.
Mr. Foster shook his head. “No, carry on.” He went to stand near the stove at the back of the room, his gaze settling on her in an unnerving way.
Livy straightened her shoulders and did her best to ignore him. “You may return to your readers, children.”
She resumed her slow pacing, though her mind raced wildly ahead. Why did the man already act displeased? Had he noticed his poster was missing? If he questioned her, what would she say?
After another glance at the clock, she cleared her throat. “School is dismissed. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”
Her students noisily gathered up their things and moved in pairs and groups toward the door, ignoring the silent observer in the back. Livy longed to go with them. Even Harlan and Greta abandoned the school for the call of the outdoors.
When the last of the children had filed out, Livy forced her mouth into a smile. “What can I do for you, Mr. Foster? If you’d come earlier, you might have joined us for our geography lesson.”
The man stepped forward. “I’m afraid my visit is not to observe your teaching skills, Miss Campbell.”
“Oh?” She busied herself with picking up the readers from the desks. The task gave her something to do besides stand still, facing the brunt of his irritation. She hoped he didn’t hear the blood pumping in her ears. “To what do I owe this visit then?”
“Miss Campbell.” The name was a command.
Livy set the stack of books down and turned to face him directly.
“I believe you have some explaining to do.”
“About?” she hedged, still uncertain which of her choices had him most upset.
“To begin with, where is the poster I asked you to hang?” He gestured with his hat toward the front wall. “And what is all this falderal in the windows?”
She couldn’t tell him she’d ripped the poster into shreds and burned it—she’d be fired at once. “I wanted to help the children find their own ways of expressing their love of their country.”
“Their country—you mean Germany?”
Despite her fear, his words brought the sting of anger. Livy bit her cheek until she could respond calmly. “No, sir. Their love of America. Each picture is an expression of patriotism. And because the children drew them, I believe, the sentiment behind the pictures makes a more lasting impression.”
“Humph.” He crossed to the nearest window to examine the artwork. Livy’s drawing of Friedrick stood only a few feet away.
“If you’d care to look over here, Mr. Foster.” She waved to the opposite
side of the room. “Henry is quite the artist. He drew a naval ship—”
“Which student drew this one?” He pointed his hat at Livy’s sketch. Her heart throbbed with new dread, but she reminded herself she’d done nothing wrong. It was only a drawing.
“I drew that, Mr. Foster.” She lifted her chin a notch, despite the clammy feeling of worry that made her collar feel suddenly hot and choking. “I wanted to contribute to the art project and thought a simple scene of a family reading the Bible captured the American spirit of hearth and home.”
“It’s a very good likeness of our maintenance man, isn’t it?”
Livy pressed her lips together.
Mr. Foster spun around. “I imagine you’ve gotten to know him quite well.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“You need not play innocent with me, Miss Campbell. I know far more than you might suspect.”
Livy maintained a level gaze on his round face, though her pulse thudded faster with fear. “Is there something you find lacking in my ability as a teacher, Mr. Foster?”
He gave a mirthless laugh. “No, and that’s the real shame.” He tucked his hands behind him and walked past the windows toward the back of the room. “Do you recall a few weeks back when I expressly asked for you to tell me if Mr. Wagner said or did anything that might make one believe his allegiance lies with his mother country?” He paused to look at her.
“Yes.” Livy had no remorse or regret at protecting Friedrick. “I remember.”
“Would you consider a jail stay of three nights, even in his mother’s place, smacks a bit of German loyalty? Perhaps Mr. Wagner was using his mother to conduct business against this country.”
He pierced Livy with a long glare when she remained silent. How had the man learned about Friedrick’s time in jail? As if reading her mind, Mr. Foster continued, “A new acquaintance of mine did a little digging around town today and found out about Mr. Wagner’s time in jail. However, I’m more curious to know if you knew about it.”
“Only after the fact, sir.”
“Yet you did not feel the need to inform me?”
Hope at Dawn Page 24