by Ann Shorey
Luellen sucked in a breath. “Right where you are today, I expect.” She drew the slip of paper from her reticule and placed it in front of him.
“Sumner Price? What’s this about?”
“Do you remember the black girl who looked after your daughter’s children? The one you dismissed when you learned she was in the family way?”
Color rose in his cheeks. “Leah. Yes. Why?”
Luellen pointed at the slip of paper. “That’s the name of the baby’s father. He refused to support or acknowledge his child after promising to do so. He broke Leah’s heart. Fortunately, a kinder soul than yourself has seen to it that she’s now safe with her family in Canada.” She clasped her hands together. “Now, what did you want to teach me about adhering to high moral standards?”
Dr. Alexander slumped in his chair. “Sumner Price is the father? My assistant? He dallied with my grandchildren’s nurse?”
“Apparently. What did you think would happen to her when you turned her out on the street? Especially here in Allenwood?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t think.” He rubbed his forehead. “What are you going to do with this information?”
“Nothing. It’s what you do with it that matters now.”
He waved a hand at her. “Take the examinations, and good luck to you.”
“No. That’s not why I gave you his name. I did it for Leah.” Luellen turned to leave.
“You’re a remarkable woman.” He studied her, something deeper than admiration in his eyes. “Your name will appear on the roster on examination day. I have a feeling you’ll excel.”
She extended her hand and he took it in both of his.
“Thank you.”
“Good day, Miss McGarvie.”
As she left the building, Luellen heard Dr. Alexander bellow, “Price. Come in here. Now.”
36
Luellen paused with her hand on the doorknob. “Thank you for watching David again, Mrs. Hawks.”
The landlady pursed her lips. “You haven’t eaten breakfast. How will you concentrate on the questions if you’re hungry?”
“My stomach’s in knots. Everything I’ve learned over the past two years comes down to this examination. I feel dizzy just thinking about it.”
She stepped forward and kissed David’s cheek, forcing herself to ignore the tears pooled in his eyes. “I should be back right after the noon bell.”
Once inside the administration building, Luellen turned toward the testing room. Mrs. Hale waited in the hallway. “I have to hand it to you, Miss McGarvie. You’re a plucky one. Dr. Alexander informed me you’d be joining the other seniors today.” She pointed to a table near the front. “There’s an empty seat over there.”
“Thank you,” Luellen said. She sensed other students watching her as she crossed the room. Their stares didn’t matter. She needed to pin her thoughts on her studies.
Once they had permission to begin, she opened to the first page. History. In her mind, she pictured the text she’d spent hours studying while at home. Heart pounding in her throat, she took pains with her answers, reading and rereading before going to the next question. Chemistry followed history, then geometry, literature, and elementary physics. Chewing her lower lip, Luellen forged through each topic. Perspiration tickled her temples.
When she reached the final question, she shot a glance at the clock. Twenty minutes remained. She flipped the booklet over and skimmed through each page, double-checking for errors.
Mrs. Hale rose. “Time. Please pass your work forward. Your grades will be posted in the registrar’s office tomorrow morning.”
Luellen sucked in a deep breath and handed her packet to the student in front of her. The results were in God’s hands now. She’d done her best.
The next day, Luellen strode down the hallway of the administration building and stepped into the anteroom outside Dr. Alexander’s office. A stranger looked up from behind the desk Mr. Price had occupied. “May I help you, miss?”
“Are you one of the students?” Foolish question. He appeared to be at least a decade older than she was.
He straightened in his chair. An amused expression hovered at the corners of his mouth. “No. I taught here several years ago. Dr. Alexander asked if I’d take the job as his assistant until a permanent replacement could be found.”
“Mr. Price is gone?”
“As of Monday.”
Luellen hid a smile.
“Did you wish to see the registrar?”
“No, thank you. I’m here to learn the results of the final examination.” She turned toward the notice board, her face warm. She ran her finger down to the midpoint of the list of graduating seniors.
Kerrigan, Charles.
Koberly, Esther.
Longberg, Mark.
McGarvie, Luellen.
She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until her head began to pound. A perfect 100 percent. She closed her eyes, exhaling with a whoosh.
“Is anything wrong, miss?”
“No.” She whirled to face the assistant. “Everything’s wonderful.” He probably thought her addled. She didn’t care.
The murmur of conversation in the auditorium ceased. Gowns rustled as Luellen and the other members of her graduating class took their seats on the platform. Her gaze roamed over the assembled families who had come to celebrate their students’ accomplishments, her eyes stinging with unexpected tears. If only her parents had been able to attend.
At the rear of the room, one of the double doors opened and Mrs. Hawks entered carrying David. Luellen glanced at her and smiled in gratitude. Her Allenwood family was here.
Speeches by the school’s founder, department heads, and Dr. Alexander droned on for over an hour. Luellen’s face ached from trying to appear attentive while wishing they’d stop talking and distribute the certificates. Finally Dr. Alexander turned to the graduates. “It is with deep pleasure that I award Allenwood Normal School diplomas and State Teaching Certificates to the future educators of Illinois’s children.”
From a tray on the podium, he took one envelope after another, identifying each student as he did so. When Luellen heard her name, she walked toward Dr. Alexander.
“I know you’ll succeed in whatever you do,” he said under his breath as he handed her an envelope.
The silence in the auditorium was broken by the sound of clapping and a voice calling, “Mama, Mama, Mama.” She turned toward Mrs. Hawks, hoping the landlady could quiet David. The woman’s arms were empty. Behind her, under a candle sconce at the back wall, an Army officer stood with her son on his shoulders.
Ward. It took all of Luellen’s determination not to run to him. Instead she resumed her seat, hands trembling. While the remainder of the graduates stood to receive their diplomas, Luellen tried to calm herself.
As the students left the platform, they were surrounded by well-wishers. Luellen moved through the throng to Ward, heart in her throat.
He swung David to the floor when she approached. “Well done. What a remarkable accomplishment.”
“I can’t believe you’re here.” She clasped his hand, feeling a tingle jolt through her at his touch.
“Surprised?”
“I never dreamed—isn’t a general visiting your post?”
“I expect he is. I’m gambling my career that my aide will give him a satisfactory tour of the fort.”
Stunned, she asked, “You left without permission?”
“I sent a dispatch to headquarters. They should have it by now.” He tugged her closer. “I couldn’t miss your graduation. You’ve worked harder than anyone I know to get to this point.”
Mrs. Hawks joined them, beaming. “We did it, didn’t we?” she said to Ward.
Luellen turned to her, bewildered. “Did what?”
“The captain’s been my guest since yesterday. He didn’t want you to know he was here.” She grinned at him. “Just don’t expect meals in your room anymore.”
He squeez
ed Luellen’s hand. “I’d rather eat in the kitchen with the cook.”
The crowd in the auditorium thinned. Luellen scooped David into her arms and followed Ward and Mrs. Hawks into the window-lined hallway. Outside, lamps illuminated the paths across the campus.
“I imagine you young people would like to have some time to yourselves,” Mrs. Hawks said. “I’ll take David home and have a celebration supper ready when you arrive.”
“Thank you.” Ward took Luellen’s arm. “We’ll be along directly.”
Luellen felt warmth flood her face. Once they were alone, what would they say to one another? They stepped out into the moon-washed evening and stood for a moment watching Mrs. Hawks walk David along the street.
Ward leaned near Luellen. “Is there someplace quiet we could go? I have something to tell you.”
She led him toward her favorite bench outside the Lecture Hall, apprehension tickling her throat. “The last time you had something to tell me, you were going to Kansas.”
“This is better, I promise.”
Once they were in the shadows of the building, Ward took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, bending his mouth to hers. Heat from his lips spread through her body. She clung to him, wishing she’d never have to let go.
He sighed and took one step away. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first time we danced together.”
“Is that what you wanted to tell me?”
He chuckled. “No, but that’s a big part of it. You remember I wrote you about the children on the post?”
Luellen nodded. Later she’d let him know she didn’t get his letters until last weekend.
“They need a teacher. The Army doesn’t care if you’re married or not, as long as you’re willing to live at Fort Hook.”
She stared at him, speechless.
He put his hands on her shoulders. The intensity of his gaze bored into her. “I think about you day and night. Will you marry me? Come with me to Kansas?”
She placed one shaking finger over her lips and frowned, as though she were in deep thought. “Marry you? And a teaching position? Both?” She felt sure he could hear the pounding of her heart.
“If you’ll have me.”
She took his face between her hands and brushed his lips with hers. “How would you feel about a wedding in Mama’s parlor—on our way west?”
Acknowledgments
When I started writing this book, I didn’t know how much I didn’t know. Many people answered questions without laughing at my lack of knowledge. Donna Abraham, of Abraham’s Lady in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, explained how much fabric was required to create the voluminous garments women wore in the late 1850s. Nancy Shaner, one of my readers living near the fictional community of Beldon Grove in Illinois, responded in detail to my questions about the history and natural features of that part of the country. Thank you, Nancy! Thanks, too, to Deborah Vogts for supplying me with information about Kansas. Medical questions were answered by two fellow members of American Christian Fiction Writers, Ronda Wells, MD, and Anne Love, NP. If I got any facts wrong, it’s my fault, not theirs.
And speaking of ACFW, many thanks to the members who specialize in nineteenth-century information. What a blessing you are.
I’m grateful to my critique partners, Bonnie Leon, Diane Gardner, Billy Cook, Julia Ewert, B. J. Bassett, and Judy Gann, for unsparingly pointing out areas that needed attention in my chapters. Special thanks to Sarah Schartz and Sarah Sundin, who went the extra mile by offering to critique the final portion of the book over the Christmas holidays. I’m in your debt.
My husband, Richard, has supported my writing since day one. Having a wife who’s more preoccupied with imaginary friends than putting dinner on the table can’t be easy. God truly blessed me when he brought us together.
Working with my editor, Vicki Crumpton, along with Barb Barnes, Michele Misiak, and the entire team at Revell, has been a joy. Your love of the Lord and your encouraging words keep me going.
Hugs to my agent, Tamela Hancock Murray. I so appreciated your prayers while I worked to complete this story during a family crisis. You’re always there with guidance and counsel. Thank you.
I never forget there’s not a word on the page that the Lord didn’t first put into my mind. To God be the glory.
Ann Shorey has been a story collector for most of her life. Her writing has appeared in Chicken Soup for the Grandma’s Soul, and in the Adams Media Cup of Comfort series. She made her fiction debut with The Edge of Light, released in January 2009. When she’s not writing, she teaches classes on historical research, story arc, and other fiction fundamentals at regional conferences. Ann lives with her husband, Richard, in Oregon. The Dawn of a Dream is the third book in her At Home in Beldon Grove series.
Contact Ann through her website at www.annshorey.com.
Books by Ann Shorey
AT HOME IN BELDON GROVE
The Edge of Light
The Promise of Morning
The Dawn of a Dream
Website: AnnShorey.com
Facebook: AnnShorey
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Twitter: RevellBooks
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
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10
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17
18
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25
26
27
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29
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31
32
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36
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Books by Author
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