Hope at Dawn (18 page)

“Friedrick! You’re awake,” a female voice exclaimed. A voice that sounded like Livy’s. But he hadn’t seen her since Sunday when she’d given him the cold shoulder in town.

He pried open his eyelids to find Livy’s lovely face above him, her gaze filled with concern. The schoolhouse stove loomed behind her. The object brought back vague memories of walking from town through the rain.

“Water,” he repeated.

Livy dragged a bucket closer. “Can you sit up?”

Friedrick rose to his elbows, but every muscle in his body felt tethered to the floor. “I think…I need…”

Despite the fog filling his head, he relished the pleasant scent of Livy’s hair as she assisted him into a sitting position. Her eyes lifted to his as she lingered beside him, her hand on his arm. Friedrick heard her breath catch in her throat, in contrast to the worry pinching her forehead. He wanted to smooth away those lines, rub his thumb over those inviting red lips, hold her close. But his body had turned traitor.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

She cleared her throat and scooted away from him to fill a ladle with water. Friedrick drained it of liquid.

“More?” Livy asked.

He shook his head. As she reached for the ladle, he managed to capture her fingers beneath his. He’d been angry at her, but he couldn’t recall why now. “Livy,” he murmured.

“Yes?” She leaned toward him, her expression expectant.

Friedrick tried to form what he wanted to say, how to tell her how much he cared about her. But a wave of dizziness washed over him. He coughed again and slumped to the blanket. “I’m sorry…I…”

Disappointment momentarily filled her green eyes before she placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “It’s all right. Just rest. I’m going to get you some tea.”

Too tired to nod, he watched her leave, then turned toward the clock. It was a quarter to six. He’d been asleep for more than two hours. Elsa would be worried. He needed to get home.

Friedrick attempted to sit up on his own, but the effort left him short of breath and brought another wave of dizziness. He collapsed onto the blanket and shut his eyes against the dread making his head throb. How could he provide for his family if he was too weak to even stand? Maybe Livy’s tea would give him enough strength to get himself home.

As he lay there thinking about her—her beauty, her strength, her smile—an unpleasant memory chewed at his awareness. Livy had done something before he’d fallen asleep, something that had frustrated him. What was it?

The memory of the poster smashed into him like a fist to the stomach. No wonder he’d dreamt what he did. He’d believed Livy’s attitude toward German-Americans, and him in particular, was different, but her choice to hang such a poster confirmed it wasn’t.

Why then was she bothering to help him? He could only conclude it was because they weren’t in public, where others might see. If she were ashamed to acknowledge him as her friend publicly, then that would explain why she’d been aloof in town and why she’d hung the poster in the school.

The clatter of the door made him jerk open his eyes. Livy entered with a kettle in one hand and a cup in the other. The tea no longer sounded appetizing.

“I’d better go,” he announced. He ignored the pounding in his head and forced himself onto his elbows to illustrate his intent to leave. “My family needs me, and we wouldn’t want to cause you embarrassment by my staying.”

“Embarrassment?” Her brow furrowed. “You’re sick, Friedrick. I’m not going to turn you out into the rain, just to stop a few people from gossiping.”

“I wasn’t talking about gossip.” He crawled to a seated position and ran his hand over his face. The fatigue was quickly draining his anger. “Why did you hang the poster, Livy? Because you’re embarrassed to know me, because your brother was killed by the Germans?”

She set the kettle and cup on the floor and knelt beside him. “I was afraid, not embarrassed.”

“Afraid of what?” he demanded, not caring that it sounded harsh.

Her words were spoken quietly. “Mr. Foster insisted I hang the poster. He also asked me if you’d said anything pro-German. I realized right then how much people are watching and listening. I didn’t want to get either of us in trouble.”

“Mr. Foster asked about me?”

The unease Friedrick had felt after running into the man’s secretary rekindled inside him. Had the woman reported him to the superintendent yet? Would Mr. Foster show up one of these days and fire Friedrick?

“He was right down the street while we were talking in town on Sunday. I was afraid he’d notice if we acted more than…slightly acquainted.” Her cheeks went pink. “I hung the poster because I thought I had to do it, but I took it down.” Livy gestured toward the front of the classroom.

Friedrick glanced over to see the poster was no longer hanging on the wall. “Maybe you ought to put it back up,” he said, more to himself than to her. He didn’t want to be the cause of Livy losing her job—her dream. He might have already put her reputation at stake by staying here so long.

“I can’t put it back. I burned it,” Livy said, her voice firm. She’d clearly crossed a line in her mind. “It’s not fair to you or the children or…” She swallowed. “To their families. We’ll have to come up with some other way to show Mr. Foster our patriotism when he comes to visit.”

Our patriotism.
Her words, combined with her charming expression of determination, stirred hope within him. Hope for deepening their friendship, in spite of everything that had happened. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her, but he began coughing.

“Do you want some tea?” Without waiting for his response, she brought the teacup to his lips. The hot liquid soothed his sore throat, but only for a moment. Another coughing spell tightened Friedrick’s chest.

“I’ve got to go,” he said when his coughs subsided. He’d wasted enough time lying around the last few days.

Livy crossed her arms. “You can’t walk right now, and I don’t have a wagon. Sleep a little more, and then I’ll have one of the neighbors drive you home.”

Friedrick wanted to argue, but it required too much effort. The steeliness in Livy’s gaze told him he’d likely lose anyway. He slid back onto the blanket and shut his eyes once more. Livy leaned near, evident by the vanilla scent he smelled again, and placed something beneath his head to act as a pillow. Her presence was as good as any medicine. He told himself he’d rest for a bit longer, then he would head home and reassure his worried family all was right.

L
ivy stopped pacing and stole another glance at Friedrick from across the schoolroom. She’d never observed a man sleeping before, except for Robert when he’d passed out from drinking. But that didn’t count. His drunken snoring hadn’t made her pulse skip faster like the sight of Friedrick’s relaxed face and her awareness of him slumbering a few feet away.

Watching this strong, kind man sleep stirred emotion deep within her and resurrected the thrill she’d felt when he looked as if he meant to kiss her earlier. Thankfully Friedrick’s coughing had jarred them both back to reality—it wouldn’t do to be kissing him in the schoolhouse, alone.

Her pacing resumed along the north wall of windows, her steps soft, her arms folded. She couldn’t deny a strong attraction to Friedrick, which had quickly replaced her anger over their earlier misunderstanding. He was still sick, though. There’d be time enough for sorting out her feelings once he was better.

A hoarse cough escaped Friedrick’s lips followed by a violent shiver, which shook his body. He muttered something indiscernible.

Livy went to his side and placed her hand on his forehead. It felt hot. Fear prickled up her back—Friedrick wouldn’t be going anywhere tonight. She searched the room for something to help him and remembered the water bucket. She plunged a corner of his blanket into the water. After wringing it out, she pressed it gently to Friedrick’s face and neck. Was there more she should be doing?

At her touch, he stirred and opened his eyes. “Livy?” His voice sounded as dry and thin as sunburnt grass. “What are you doing here?” He blinked slowly. “W-Where am I?”

She put a finger to his mouth to shush him. The feel of his lips beneath her skin sent a bolt of emotion up her arm, in sharp contrast to her growing worry.

“Shh. You don’t need to talk; just rest. You’re in the schoolhouse, remember? You were walking home from…town.” No need to conjure up his experience at the jail, if he didn’t remember right away. Livy wet the blanket again and wrung out the excess.

“You have a fever, but nothing a little water and tea can’t fix.” Her voice sounded too cheerful, even to herself. In his condition, though, Friedrick wouldn’t notice.

“No.” He shook his head. “I’ve got to get home. Elsa will be…” He drew a shaky breath and struggled to rise.

Livy grabbed his sleeve. “Friedrick, you need to lie still.”

He lowered himself onto the makeshift bed and moaned. His lack of protest frightened her more than anything. “It hurts something awful.”

“Your head?”

He dipped his chin and shut his eyes.

“I’m going to warm some more tea.” She rose to her knees.

“Don’t go,” he whispered. “Not yet.”

Livy sank back down onto the floor, concern lodging in her throat. She grasped his hand. His skin instantly heated hers. “I’ll stay, Friedrick. I’ll stay.”

The pain on his face eased at her promise. He mumbled something and drifted back to sleep. Livy held his hand, her thumb stroking his knuckles, until she felt certain he was completely asleep. She dabbed the wet blanket around the edges of his forehead, hoping to cool his fever. The various shades of yellow-brown in his hair beckoned her fingers. She brushed through the soft strands and traced the prickly stubble of his jawline. His face felt foreign and yet familiar beneath her touch.

Another cough shook Friedrick, bringing Livy back to the present. She blushed and removed her hand from his face. Thank goodness he was asleep.

She hopped up to add more wood to the stove. She stoked the flames, then wandered over to the windows. The rain had lightened considerably, but it would be dark soon. She darted a look over her shoulder at Friedrick. Would her parents, or Mr. Foster, or the parents of her students approve of her being here by herself with him?

“It can’t be helped,” she firmly told herself. Hopefully she and the students wouldn’t catch whatever Friedrick had. Just to be certain, she would cancel school tomorrow. That would give Friedrick more time to recover.

She returned to his makeshift bed. Finding him still deep in sleep, she decided to heat more tea and check on the stew.

Livy hurried through the light rain to her cabin, shivering all the way. She’d lent her coat to Friedrick to use for a pillow. The smell of cooking meat and vegetables greeted her at the door and made her stomach grumble. She worked as quickly as she could to put the meal together, hoping Friedrick wouldn’t wake in her absence.

Once she’d placed the kettle, the stew, two bowls, and an extra blanket in a crate, she walked slowly back to the school. The measured pace tore at her impatience, but she didn’t want to slosh or drop anything.

The noise of Friedrick’s coughing hit her full force as she stepped inside. Was it her imagination or did his coughs sound worse? Her stomach churned into knots.

“I’m here, Friedrick,” she said, setting the box near the stove. “I went to heat the tea and get you some supper.”

“I’m…not hungry,” he croaked out, his eyes still shut.

Livy ladled the stew into one of the bowls and knelt next to him. “A little broth might help.” She scooped up some stew and pressed the spoon to his mouth. “Come on,” she coaxed. “Take a sip.”

He frowned, but obeyed. She managed to get a few spoonfuls in him before another hacking cough vibrated through him.

“No more.”

“All right.” Livy heaved a sigh of resignation. She couldn’t force him to eat.

She sat against one wall to eat her portion of the stew. What other ways could she help him? She’d tried everything she could think of, but none of her efforts seemed to be working. Concern soured her stomach and she set her nearly full bowl aside. It was time to telephone the doctor.

Livy bent down beside Friedrick and cupped his burning face. “Friedrick, which neighbors have a telephone?”

He didn’t answer right away, prompting her to repeat the question. Finally he asked, “Why?”

“I need to phone the doctor.”

“Don’t need the doctor.” He grunted and rolled onto his side, his back to her. “Just need a little more rest. It’s only a—” A cough ended his sentence.

Livy didn’t have the heart to argue with him. “I’m sure you’re right, but I want to see if there’s anything more I can do. Besides, someone should let Elsa know you’re here.”

The mention of his mother did the trick. “The Kellers…have a telephone.”

The Kellers?
Livy’s heart dropped to her shoes. Of course the closest telephone would be in the home of the family who refused to let their children attend school while Livy was the teacher. There was no way around it, though. She’d face the Kellers’ wrath for Friedrick.

“I’ll be back soon.” She removed her coat from beneath his head and replaced it with the extra blanket.

She quickly left the school before she lost her nerve. Raindrops pattered her head and coat, making Livy wish she’d grabbed her hat. She shoved her hands inside her pockets to keep them dry. If the Kellers didn’t let her in, she’d have to trudge through the rain to someone else’s house.

Another few minutes brought her to the Kellers’ front yard. Their dog, Wilheim, growled at her approach.

“Remember me?” she soothed.

Wilheim’s memory was clearly flawed. Instead of being pacified, the dog set to barking loudly. The front door flew open in response to his warning. A giant of a man—whom Livy assumed must be Mr. Keller—stepped onto the porch. He hollered at the dog in German before he noticed Livy.

“What you want?” he asked. He scowled as he looked her up and down.

Livy swallowed and lifted her chin. She was here for Friedrick. “I’m sorry to bother you so late, Mr. Keller.”

“Who are you?”

The two Keller girls peered out from behind their father. Livy saw recognition on their faces.

“My name’s Livy Campbell. I’m the new teacher at the schoolhouse and—”

“No.” He shooed at her with a wave of one of his large hands. “No go to school. Not till Marta come back.” He began to retreat into the house.

“Wait,” Livy called out. She marched forward, ignoring Wilheim’s low growl. She already knew the dog was harmless. “I’m not here about school this time. I’m here about Friedrick Wagner.”

The man froze. “Friedrick? What?”

“He’s sick, at the school. I need to telephone the doctor and Mrs. Wagner.”

Mr. Keller eyed her warily. Livy held her breath. Would he refuse her request? Finally he blew out his breath and motioned her inside. “Come in.”

Livy exhaled with relief. Now she wouldn’t have to traipse through the rain to another farm. She moved up the steps and into the warm house.

“Come,” Mr. Keller repeated, gesturing toward the back of the house.

She smiled at the two girls and followed their father down the hallway to the kitchen. Mrs. Keller stood at the sink, washing dishes, while their son, John, sat reading a book at the table. Both of them glanced up as Livy and Mr. Keller entered the room. Mrs. Keller’s eyes widened. She spoke to her husband in German, her tone surprised and cross.

Mr. Keller shook his head and replied in their native tongue. Livy could only pick out Friedrick’s name. Mrs. Keller studied Livy, then pointed to the telephone on the wall.

“Thank you.” Livy lifted the earpiece and gave the hand crank a good turn.

“Number please,” the operator said.

“I need the doctor in Hilden.”

“One moment.”

Livy tapped her foot on the wood floor, aware of the Kellers’ curious stares against her back.

“This is Dr. Miller,” a tired, accented voice said.

“Doctor, this is Livy Campbell. I’m the new teacher at Township School Number 1, northwest of Hilden. Friedrick Wagner is there now—resting at the school. He’s sick. I’m wondering what can be done for him.”

“Friedrick Wagner? I just saw him, this afternoon at the…”

Livy gripped the earpiece tighter, willing the doctor not to say “jail.” If the operator overheard where Friedrick had been, the superintendent would know before long.

The doctor cleared his throat. “Tell me his symptoms, Miss Campbell.”

She let out her breath in a whoosh. Friedrick’s time in jail would remain a secret. “He has a fever and a cough, and he says his head hurts.”

A heavy silence filled her ears. “Doctor?” Had they been disconnected? “Dr. Miller?”

“I will be there in thirty minutes.”

“Should I have someone take him home in their wagon?”

“No!”

Livy jumped at the man’s loud voice. “Wouldn’t he do better resting at his own house?”

“I am sorry, Miss Campbell.” He released a sigh. “It would be best if he stays where he is for now. Has anyone else been around him since his symptoms began?”

“No,” Livy said, shaking her head.

“Good.”

“I need to telephone Mrs. Wagner.” She chose her next words carefully. “Friedrick went into town and hasn’t been back home yet. What shall I tell her?”

“Tell her where he is and I am coming to attend to him. She is not to come see him. Will you make that clear?”

Livy frowned. His instructions sounded a bit rash, but she was no medical expert. “Yes, I’ll tell her.”

“With his father already sick,” the doctor added.

“Oh, yes, right.”

“I’m on my way, Miss Campbell.”

“Thank you, Dr. Miller.”

She hung up the earpiece and turned to the Kellers, who had taken seats beside their son at the kitchen table. “The doctor’s coming.”

They smiled, their relief evident, but Livy couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach. Did the doctor suspect Friedrick was ill with something serious? “May I call Mrs. Wagner now?”

Mr. Keller nodded.

Livy informed the operator she needed the Wagner residence this time. After a long moment, a frantic female voice answered. “Hello? Friedrick?”

“No, Mrs. Wagner. This is Livy Campbell.”

Livy quickly explained the situation and repeated the doctor’s admonition about the family staying home, at least for the present. With much reluctance in her voice, Elsa agreed to wait for word before coming to the school.

“He is being cared for?”

“Yes.” Livy wanted to tell Elsa how much she prized Friedrick’s friendship, but she couldn’t—not over the telephone with others potentially listening.

She hung up, hoping she’d eased the woman’s worry. Her own had only increased since leaving Friedrick at the school. She attempted a smile for the Kellers. “Thank you for letting me use your telephone.”

Mrs. Keller went to the counter, where several loaves of bread sat cooling. “You take?” She handed Livy a loaf.

“That’s very kind. Thank you.” Maybe there was hope for having the Keller children return to school after all.

“I walk you back,” Mr. Keller said. He led her out the kitchen door. Thankfully the rain had stopped.

Livy plodded along beside him, the warm bread tucked against her coat. Though Mr. Keller didn’t say a word, his presence helped her feel safe.

At the door, he stopped. “You do good—caring for Friedrick. We bring food tomorrow.”

“He’s likely going home tomorrow,” Livy protested kindly, “but I appreciate the bread.”

As the man strode away, Livy slipped inside the half-darkened room. The only sound came from the wood crackling in the stove.

“Friedrick?”

There was no response, no rustle of movement from him. Livy rushed over and fell to her knees at his side. She placed a hand to his chest, hoping, praying, he was deep in sleep. His chest rose and fell beneath her palm.

She bit back a relieved cry. “Friedrick, can you hear me? The doctor’s coming.”

He shifted restlessly on the blanket. “Hurts…”

Livy felt his forehead and found it still burning with fever. She bathed his neck and face again with water, not caring when she soaked his shirt. It would keep him cool.

The hardness of the wood floor gnawed at her knees and reminded her that Friedrick had nothing to protect him from the planks but a blanket. Surely he’d rest easier with something more comfortable beneath him. Livy glanced at the clock. If she hurried, she could drag her mattress over before the doctor arrived.

She raced across the yard to her cabin and wrestled the mattress off her bed. It was heavier than she’d expected, but she managed to drag it outside.