as the heavens—people’s prejudice, for one. He was kidding himself if he thought things would change anytime soon for him and his family. As long as the war lasted, they would be viewed as a target, a threat. That wasn’t going to change, and the sooner he accepted it, the better.
Chapter Three
T he alarm clock’s insistent ring jerked Livy awake the next morning. She rubbed her tired eyes and climbed, unseeing, from her bed. As she started across the floor, her big toe connected with a hard knot in the floorboards. Pain shot up her foot. Groaning, she flopped back onto the mattress and rubbed the injured limb. What a fitting omen after her less-than-restful night.
She hadn’t been able to quell her fury over Friedrick Wagner’s arrogance, but once she had calmed down, confusion replaced her anger. Where was the kind young man she’d danced with on her birthday? She’d gotten a glimpse of him before their argument and afterward when he’d offered the helpful information about the stove. But his ill opinions, and the accusation of her being a “judging busybody,” still stung her memory.
And to think I entertained the idea of kissing him for telling me about the teaching job.
With an indignant shake of her head, Livy limped to the bureau and carefully selected a striped blouse and a green, high-waisted skirt for her first day of school. If anyone came…
Friedrick had likely woken the neighbors last night and repeated all of Livy’s comments. The thought made her already unsettled stomach lurch with fresh nerves. She needed this day and the next and the rest of the school year to go well, or she’d have to return home. There she’d be forced to once again face the absence of her brothers and Robert’s insobriety.
“No.” She slammed the drawer shut to emphasize her determination. She wouldn’t let Friedrick’s remarks or actions tear her down. She would go over to the school, light the stove, and prepare for the day, as if all the students were coming.
Once she was dressed, Livy eyed her humble kitchen. Despite her resolve to be strong, she wasn’t sure she could eat anything. She settled on grabbing an apple from yesterday’s lunch hamper. If her stomach felt better later on, she would eat it. She bundled into her coat and hat and pocketed her keys. The short walk to the schoolhouse was still a cold one.
Livy shivered as she unlocked the door and stepped into the frigid room. Beside the stove, she found a neat pile of kindling and wood that hadn’t been there yesterday. There was only one explanation—Friedrick Wagner.
She easily dismissed the nice surprise with the reminder he’d likely brought wood to the school first before barging into her cabin last night. Which meant she didn’t owe him any more gratitude. This thought, however misguided, eased her guilty conscience.
What was it about this man that made her speak without thinking? she wondered as she worked at starting a fire. She’d seen and experienced plenty of heartache and frustration with Robert, and yet she’d never lost her temper with him. Perhaps I should have. There was something almost liberating about sharing what she truly felt, instead of hiding it.
She forced her mind off the insufferable Mr. Wagner and soon had a strong fire going. When the room began to thaw, Livy removed her coat and hung it in the tiny cloakroom. She straightened the already straight desks and managed to down a few bites of her apple.
After peeking out one of the windows at the road, she checked the clock on the wall. Forty minutes past eight. School was supposed to start in twenty minutes. Had any of the children seen the smoke from the schoolhouse chimney? Would anyone come?
Her stomach wound tighter and tighter as she paced the room, from the blackboard to the stove and back. Finally she dropped into her chair and pulled out one of her sketchbooks. She closed her eyes as the end of the pencil found its way between her teeth. What should
Chapter Three
T he alarm clock’s insistent ring jerked Livy awake the next morning. She rubbed her tired eyes and climbed, unseeing, from her bed. As she started across the floor, her big toe connected with a hard knot in the floorboards. Pain shot up her foot. Groaning, she flopped back onto the mattress and rubbed the injured limb. What a fitting omen after her less-than-restful night.
She hadn’t been able to quell her fury over Friedrick Wagner’s arrogance, but once she had calmed down, confusion replaced her anger. Where was the kind young man she’d danced with on her birthday? She’d gotten a glimpse of him before their argument and afterward when he’d offered the helpful information about the stove. But his ill opinions, and the accusation of her being a “judging busybody,” still stung her memory.
And to think I entertained the idea of kissing him for telling me about the teaching job.
With an indignant shake of her head, Livy limped to the bureau and carefully selected a striped blouse and a green, high-waisted skirt for her first day of school. If anyone came…
Friedrick had likely woken the neighbors last night and repeated all of Livy’s comments. The thought made her already unsettled stomach lurch with fresh nerves. She needed this day and the next and the rest of the school year to go well, or she’d have to return home. There she’d be forced to once again face the absence of her brothers and Robert’s insobriety.
“No.” She slammed the drawer shut to emphasize her determination. She wouldn’t let Friedrick’s remarks or actions tear her down. She would go over to the school, light the stove, and prepare for the day, as if all the students were coming.
Once she was dressed, Livy eyed her humble kitchen. Despite her resolve to be strong, she wasn’t sure she could eat anything. She settled on grabbing an apple from yesterday’s lunch hamper. If her stomach felt better later on, she would eat it. She bundled into her coat and hat and pocketed her keys. The short walk to the schoolhouse was still a cold one.
Livy shivered as she unlocked the door and stepped into the frigid room. Beside the stove, she found a neat pile of kindling and wood that hadn’t been there yesterday. There was only one explanation—Friedrick Wagner.
She easily dismissed the nice surprise with the reminder he’d likely brought wood to the school first before barging into her cabin last night. Which meant she didn’t owe him any more gratitude. This thought, however misguided, eased her guilty conscience.
What was it about this man that made her speak without thinking? she wondered as she worked at starting a fire. She’d seen and experienced plenty of heartache and frustration with Robert, and yet she’d never lost her temper with him. Perhaps I should have. There was something almost liberating about sharing what she truly felt, instead of hiding it.
She forced her mind off the insufferable Mr. Wagner and soon had a strong fire going. When the room began to thaw, Livy removed her coat and hung it in the tiny cloakroom. She straightened the already straight desks and managed to down a few bites of her apple.
After peeking out one of the windows at the road, she checked the clock on the wall. Forty minutes past eight. School was supposed to start in twenty minutes. Had any of the children seen the smoke from the schoolhouse chimney? Would anyone come?
Her stomach wound tighter and tighter as she paced the room, from the blackboard to the stove and back. Finally she dropped into her chair and pulled out one of her sketchbooks. She closed her eyes as the end of the pencil found its way between her teeth. What should
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