The Dawn of a Dream

by Ann Shorey

Luellen splashed water over the dishes in the basin. His voice went on, spinning his dreams. She closed her eyes, remembering the early days of their courtship and marriage. Listening to him ignited a spark she’d thought to be dead.

  When the last pot had been dried and hung on the rack, Brendan rose. “Thank you for your company. D’you mind if I come back again?” His broad hands rested on the back of a chair.

  “I have studies.” At the disappointment in his eyes, she relented. “But for a while after supper, a visit would be fine.”

  “Good night, then. See you tomorrow.”

  After he left, she gathered a sleepy David in her arms and carried him into their room. “What am I doing?” she whispered. “Heaven help me, I’m looking forward to tomorrow evening.”

  Luellen sat at the rear of the Model School classroom while Miss Clark led the children through their reading assignment. She scanned over the subtraction test she’d prepared, her thoughts occupied with Brendan rather than numbers. Could she trust his friendship? Three weeks had passed since he appeared at the boardinghouse. If he hadn’t changed, surely some trace of the old Brendan would have popped up by now.

  The latch clicked open and a young man stepped into the foyer, a leather pouch slung over one shoulder. At the disturbance, the children swiveled in their seats, reading lesson forgotten.

  “I’m looking for a Miss McGarvie.”

  Luellen stood. “I’m Miss McGarvie. How may I assist you?”

  He thrust a yellow sheet of paper at her. “Telegram.”

  “Thank you.” There must be a mistake. Who would send her a telegram?

  As soon as the messenger left, she ripped the envelope open.

  Come home at once stop Papa dangerously ill stop

  Mama

  Alma hastened toward her. “You look like you’re going to faint. Sit down.”

  Luellen slumped in the chair and handed her the message.

  “Oh mercy. Your father.” Alma turned back to the class. “Go on with the lesson, Miss Clark. I’ll be with you in a few moments.” She slid a hand under Luellen’s arm and guided her toward the door. “There’s a train south tomorrow. You must go. I’ll talk to Dr. Alexander for you.”

  “Thank you, but I want to tell him myself. After all the times he helped me, I owe him that much.”

  Their eyes met, understanding passing between them. If Luellen went home now, she would lose her chance at a teaching certificate.

  The loss didn’t matter. She pictured Papa—laughing, carrying her on his shoulders when she was small, his wise counsel through her maturing years, and most of all, his support after Brendan left. She’d be on that train.

  She gathered her portfolio and cloak and dashed across the street to Allenwood Hall.

  Mr. Price sat with his head bent over a ledger. Luellen cleared her throat. He looked up, feigning surprise. “What brings you here in the middle of the morning?”

  “I need to speak with Dr. Alexander immediately, please.”

  “I’m sorry. Unfortunately he’s away at a trustees’ meeting.” The expression on his face was anything but regretful. “I’ll be happy to give him a message.”

  “When do you expect him to return?”

  “Wednesday or Thursday.”

  Luellen fought tears of frustration. By Wednesday, she’d be back in Beldon Grove. Of all times for Dr. Alexander to be gone, why did it have to be now? She drew a deep breath.

  “Please tell him that I’ve been called home. My father is gravely ill.” Her voice shook. “Be sure to thank him for all the help he extended to me.”

  Mr. Price gaped at her. “You’re withdrawing? Commencement is next month.”

  “My father’s more important.”

  He shook his head. “You amaze me. You’ve been here countless times begging to be allowed to continue, and now you leave with a certificate practically in your grasp.”

  His sneering expression wavered through her angry haze. “I doubt you were hired to pass judgment on students. I suggest you do the job you were assigned—keep records. Good day, Mr. Price.”

  Luellen stalked from the building, body trembling. Once outside, she slumped on a bench and buried her face in her hands. Lord, forgive me for losing my temper. Please, please, help me get home in time.

  Luellen sat in Mrs. Garmon’s kitchen, David on her lap. Frannie played on the floor at her feet. “We’re leaving in the morning.”

  Leah placed her hands on Luellen’s shoulders. “I’ll miss both of you.” She stepped back, her face drawn. “You don’t know how lucky you are.”

  “Lucky? My papa—”

  “You know about your papa. You can board a train and be home tomorrow.” Leah’s green earrings gleamed in the light. “I’d give anything to be in your shoes.”

  “I wish there was something I could do for you.”

  “Can’t think what it would be. Tell Mrs. Hawks I’ll work if she needs me.” Leah clutched her in a fierce embrace. “Go with God. I’ll pray for your papa.” Tears flavored her words.

  “I’ll be praying for you too.” Sobs choking her, Luellen fled down the steps and crossed the street.

  She burst into Mrs. Hawks’s kitchen, still weeping.

  The landlady dropped the broom she was holding. “Why are you here in the middle of the morning? Did something happen to David?”

  Luellen reached into her pocket and handed her the telegram.

  “Your father. Oh my word. There’s a train south tomorrow.”

  Controlling her sobs, Luellen said, “I know. I plan to be on it.” She wiped her eyes.

  “But this means you’re gone for good.” Mrs. Hawks sank into a chair, sniffling. “Things won’t be the same without you. You’ve become like a daughter to me.”

  Once again, tears trickled over Luellen’s cheeks. She waved a hand in front of her face. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t prepared for all these good-byes today.”

  “We’re never prepared for bad news, dear. It attacks us like a mad dog.” She stood David on the floor. “Do you need help packing?”

  “No, thank you. I’ve packed and unpacked my trunk so often I could do it in my sleep.”

  A few minutes later, the landlady tapped on her door.

  When Luellen opened it, Mrs. Hawks handed her a handkerchief with the ends tied together. “I want you to have this.”

  Inside rested a gold half eagle. “Five dollars. I can’t take this.”

  “Yes you can. I was planning to give it to you when you graduated. Anyway, you’ll need this for the trip home.”

  Mrs. Hawks guessed correctly. Luellen barely had enough left from her tutoring income to buy a ticket, with little to spare. Overcome, she bowed her head. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “There’s no need. The Lord put us here to help each other.” She patted Luellen’s shoulder. “Now get busy with your packing. You have a train to catch tomorrow.”

  That evening, Luellen dragged the trunk toward the front door so it would be ready for the omnibus driver to load in the morning. Brendan stopped her halfway through the dining room.

  She jumped, surprised to see him.

  “And where are you going with that?” He stood close enough to touch her, but his hands remained behind his back.

  For much of the day, she’d been so distracted she’d forgotten he lived in the same house. “Home. I’m going on the train in the morning. Papa’s very sick.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, sure. Your father’s a fine man.”

  She shuddered to think what it would do to Papa to know she’d spent time with Brendan, no matter how innocent their conversations. She took a step away. “So, I won’t be seeing you again.” Her tone conveyed dismissal.

  “I’ll be out front with my wagon in the morning to take you and the lad to the depot.” He touched his lips with his fingers and brushed her cheek. “Sleep well.”

  34

  Franklin and Belle were waiting next to the depot. They stood side by side, not to
uching, the bloom on their faces showing their connection more clearly than if they’d been holding hands. Belle glanced up at Franklin, and together they moved toward the train.

  Luellen turned from the window and gathered David’s blanket, his red calico doggie, and her traveling case. David whimpered, tugging at her skirt.

  “We’ll get off in a moment. Stop whining.”

  “Lulie.” Strong arms grabbed her from behind. Franklin spun her around in a hug.

  She buried her face in his shoulder, inhaling the aroma of wood smoke and leather. She glanced down at David in time to see him escaping down the aisle. After dragging him, howling, back to their seat, she seized Franklin’s hand. “What’s wrong with Papa? How is he?”

  “Dr. Gordon says he has edema of the lungs. He’s holding his own. The next day or two will be critical.” Franklin lifted her belongings and led the way down the aisle.

  Belle waited at the bottom of the steps. Her wide smile emphasized the deep dimples at either side of her mouth. “I’ve missed you so.” She held out her arms.

  “I’ve missed you too.” Keeping a firm grip on David’s hand, Luellen moved into Belle’s embrace, kissing her pink cheek. “I should be angry with you for getting married without me, but I’m too happy to see you.” She sent Belle a teasing smile. “I’ll get upset later.”

  “My mama was especially put out. She wanted to plan a big wedding.” Belle took Franklin’s hand. “But once we had my father’s permission, there was no reason to wait. In my heart, you were there with us. After all, if not for you I’d never have met your handsome brother.”

  She bent down to David’s level. “Is this my nephew? This boy standing on his own two feet?”

  David chewed on his doggie’s ear and sidled closer to Luellen. “It will take him a moment to warm up to you,” she said. “It’s been almost five months.” She turned to Franklin. “How did you know I’d be on this train?”

  “We planned to meet every southbound until you arrived. Luckily, this was the first one. Belle and I dropped everything and caught yesterday’s train out of Springfield. Lily and Edmund will be here as soon as he concludes some business.”

  “And James?”

  “Our big brother is on his way from Philadelphia. You should’ve seen Papa’s face when the telegram came this morning. Knowing he’d see James did him more good than any of Dr. Gordon’s medicine.”

  Luellen felt a smile spread over her face. James hadn’t been home in four years. “I imagine Papa’s overjoyed.” She scooped David onto her hip. “Now, please take me home.”

  “I’ll let you out here,” Franklin said, stopping the buggy in front of their parents’ house. Inside the picket fence, dogwood leaves displayed glossy spring green. Flowering red and yellow columbine crowded against the front steps. From the exterior, the house appeared unchanged. But the moment Luellen opened the front door, the illusion shattered.

  Sickroom smells filled the entryway. In the sitting room, Papa leaned against a stack of pillows on a narrow cot. His eyes widened when he saw her. “My Lulie.” He tried to sit up, but fell back coughing—a dry, hacking sound. His body was swollen to the point where he was almost unrecognizable.

  Luellen dropped to her knees beside the cot and took Papa’s hand. Her fingers left white indentations in his skin. “I’m here, Papa.” The fire on the sitting room hearth burned into her back.

  He turned his head. “I’m sorry . . . you had to . . . leave school.”

  Tears stung her eyes. “You’re more important.”

  He shifted on the pillows. “Where’s . . . the . . . boy?”

  “Right here,” Mama said, leading David forward. “Look, he’s walking already.”

  Luellen lifted her son so Papa could see him better. “He can say ‘mama.’ ”

  “Smart . . . like you.”

  David handed his doggie to Papa. “Doo,” he said.

  Papa’s face broke into his familiar grin. He took the toy and pretended to stroke it. “Thank you.” He coughed, struggling for breath.

  Luellen laid a hand on his forehead. “You rest now.” She closed the curtains, her heart heavy with grief. This couldn’t be the end. Papa was only fifty-four.

  Footsteps dragging, she followed her mother into the entry hall. “How long has he been this bad?”

  “The swelling came on Sunday. At first he wouldn’t let me telegraph you children, but I insisted.” Mama’s face was gray with fatigue. “As you can see, he has to try to sleep sitting up. I made myself a bed on the divan so I could stay beside him. It was a blessing that Franklin and Belle were able to come yesterday.” She clasped Luellen’s arm. “And you today. I don’t know how I’d get through this without you children.”

  “What would you like me to do?”

  “Pray. Dr. Gordon will be here soon with a decoction he believes will take the swelling down. If he’s successful . . . well, he thinks Papa may have a chance.”

  Luellen slipped David’s nightgown over his head. Twilight painted the scene outside the bedroom window with shades of purple. Any other time she’d have admired the changing colors of the evening. Today she watched without caring. Where was Dr. Gordon? Why wasn’t he here treating her father?

  David’s eyelids fluttered shut. “It’s been a long day,” Luellen whispered. “You’ve been a very good boy.” She tucked him in bed with his doggie. “Sleep now. I’ll be back soon.”

  Once downstairs, she followed the sound of murmuring voices into the dining room.

  “Dr. Gordon. I didn’t hear you arrive. How’s Papa?”

  “Miss McGarvie.” He rose and gave her a half bow. “I just administered a digitalis decoction. He’ll get another dose presently.” A flask rested on the table and a satchel sat on the floor next to his chair. “I plan to stay with him overnight to monitor the effects. There’s a fine line between therapeutic and poisonous. But if it works as I believe it will, within a week or so he may be back on his feet.”

  Luellen’s knees wobbled. She grabbed a chair and sank into it. “Truly? You mean he’s going to get better?”

  The doctor raked his fingers through his disheveled red hair. “No promises. We’ll have to wait and see.”

  When Lily and Edmund arrived on Saturday, Papa shuffled to the door to greet them. The swelling in his legs and feet had subsided enough to allow him to wear his leather slippers. Mama walked at his side, supporting him with one arm.

  Luellen stood with Franklin and Belle while her parents were embraced by their youngest daughter and her husband. “It’s a miracle,” she said in a low voice. “I didn’t think I’d see this moment.”

  Franklin nodded. “When we got here, I was afraid James and Lily would be too late. Now it looks like James can take his time.”

  “It takes my father a week or so to get to Washington from Springfield,” Belle said. “Your brother ought to be here any day.”

  Lily advanced toward Luellen and kissed her on the cheek. “I’m so glad Papa’s recovering. I wanted to leave as soon as we received the telegram, but Edmund—”

  “Edmund what, my dear?” Lily’s husband stopped next to her.

  “You had pressing business.” She turned to Franklin and Belle and embraced them in turn. “He wouldn’t let me travel alone. Edmund thinks it’s unwise.”

  Luellen bit her lip. The more she saw of Edmund, the less she liked him. How did he think she traveled to and from Allenwood—transported by angels?

  Franklin cut a glance in her direction and winked. He clapped a hand on Edmund’s shoulder. “Let me help you with your bags. Mama put you in their bedroom since she’s staying downstairs with Papa at night.”

  Unfastening her bonnet while she walked, Lily followed their parents into the sitting room. “I saw David playing in here the minute I came through the door. My, he’s grown.” She knelt in front of him, her green and white taffeta promenade dress billowing as her hoops collapsed. “Come see your aunt Lily.”

  “Give him a moment . .
. to get used to you,” Papa said. His eyes twinkled. “Likely he’s never seen . . . so much clothing . . . on one person before.” He settled in an armchair and propped his feet on an ottoman.

  Thankful to hear him teasing, Luellen closed her eyes. Every sign of her father’s recovery was a reason for praise. When she opened them, she caught Belle watching her, her face a reflection of Luellen’s gratitude. She squeezed her friend’s hand. Belle squeezed back.

  David toddled past Lily and grabbed Luellen’s leg. She swung him high in the air, kissing his cheek. “Show Aunt Lily your doggie.”

  He grabbed the calico toy from the hearth rug and thrust it at Lily. Taking it between two fingers, she turned it over with a forced smile. “Very nice.” She struggled to her feet, hoopskirts swaying. “I’m glad you’re going to be home all the time,” she said to Luellen. “Now you can be a proper mother to him. Not that you weren’t already, of course. But Edmund says a mother’s place is with her children at all times.”

  “Indeed.” Luellen smiled sweetly. “You have domestic help in your home, don’t you? Do any of those women have children?”

  “Well, cook does.”

  “Are they with their mother in your house?”

  Lily’s face flushed. “No.”

  “My goodness. What does Edmund say about that?”

  From her chair next to the fire, Mama cleared her throat. “Luellen, I’m sure Lily and Edmund would enjoy tea and some of that ginger cake you and Belle made last night.”

  Luellen noticed her sister’s lip trembling and slipped an arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry. Please forgive my sharp tongue.”

  “I’m sorry too. Sometimes I speak without thinking. Edmund says—” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “There I go again.” She took a step toward the kitchen. “Let me help you with the tea.”

  The following Monday, Luellen spread her textbooks on the dining table. David toddled toward the sitting room, where Mama sat knitting next to Papa’s cot.

  Luellen followed her son. “Would you be able to keep an eye on him while I study?”