Driven by a Dream: A Jo Barkley Novel

By Neva Andrews

Time never stands still for Jo Barkley. Now a young woman, she is madly in love with her childhood friend, Bob Blackwood. As she stands beside Killdeer Lake and happily accepts his marriage proposal, World War II rages across Europe. Both thrilled and frightened amid the chaos surrounding 1941 America, Jo cannot help but wonder if her dream of owning a ranch will ever come true.

It is not long before Bob is pulled into the conflict and joins the army. Desperate to earn money and stop fearing for Bobs life, Jo begins training to become a teacher. When her training is interrupted by her mothers illness and eventual death, Jo ignores Gods call, leaves her teaching career behind, and begins searching for more lucrative ways to save for her ranch. When a rodeo cowboy convinces her to disguise herself as a young man and join him in Pro Rodeo, Jo thinks her problem is solved. Now only time will tell if she can continue living a lie to fulfill her dream.

Driven by a Dream continues the tale of an independent young womans journey as she enters adulthood during World War II and begins pursuing her lifelong goal of owning a ranch.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Dec 16, 2015
• ISBN: 9781491785447

Neva Andrews

Neva Andrews has ridden range for her uncle, served as a missionary with her late husband, and written four Jo Barkley books for preteens. She lives in Alexandria, Minnesota, with her daughter and son-in-law, where she enjoys reading, gardening in raised beds, and practicing her mountain dulcimer.

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Copyright © 2015 Neva Andrews.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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ISBN: 978-1-4917-8517-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-8544-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015920435

iUniverse rev. date: 12/07/2015

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-seven

Chapter Twenty-eight

Chapter Twenty-nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-one

Chapter Thirty-two

Chapter Thirty-three

Chapter Thirty-four

Chapter Thirty-five

Chapter Thirty-six

Jo Barkley Series

Wild Horse Summer

The Secret of Tabby Mountain

A Mule Will Do

Stormy and Stub

In memory of

Myrtle Clifford

Whose lecture notes I typed and

Whose letter I used with slight modification

Delight thyself in the Lord,

and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart.

King James Bible

Thanks to June Eaton for her instruction and encouragement, and to Marlene Bagnull, director of Colorado Christian Writers Conference, whose encouragement over the years kept me writing. Thanks to Steve Sachs for firsthand information on rodeo. Thanks to Mary Kuhnau for careful proofreading and to daughter-in-law, Kim Andrews, for the cover art.

My special thanks go to daughter, Jean Schonberg, for her hours of editing help. Thanks to all who prayed this project to completion and to two great-granddaughters whose enthusiasm spurred me on to the finish line.

A Note from Jo

Dear friend,

Perhaps we first met the summer Bobby Blackwood and I chased wild horses on the desert in Utah, or maybe the summer we went to Uncle Clint’s ranch in Tabiona to help with the spring cattle drive and got captured by rustlers on Tabby Mountain. Well, that was a long time ago. I graduated from high school this past spring and plan to go to teacher’s college in the fall. World War II is raging across Europe. My brother Clyde has joined the navy, so I’m helping Dad a lot more with the field work.

Uncle Clint’s family decided to join us in Idaho and now live on a ranch just thirteen miles away—out north of Rockville. The fall before I entered high school, our friends, the Blackwoods, also moved from Utah and now live on a place about a mile west of Rock School. Bob and I dated during our high school years, enjoying school parties and participating in a church youth group. Our friendship has deepened into a courtship. I invite you to come with me now to see what turns my life will take.

Your forever friend,

Jo Barkley

Chapter One

Time never stood still.

Jo Barkley savored the moment as she and Bob Blackwood stood hand in hand beside Killdeer Lake. She thought of the fun parties they had enjoyed with the high-school youth group. But tonight was different. There were no ice skates, no wieners to roast, only a full moon dancing on the ripples of the lake, casting a spell over the surrounding sagebrush and rocks. Even the war raging beyond the Atlantic couldn’t dispel the magic of this night.

She leaned into Bob’s embrace and felt his lips, firm but gentle, close over hers. They had shared a kiss before, but never like this. A strange sensation hit in her stomach and spread upward to flush her face. He released her and clasped both her hands in his—honest hands, rough and hardened from working in the fields. She gazed at him and realized he was no longer the little boy she’d grown up with. Where was the kid who’d always done her bidding? The shy teen who’d stolen her first kiss? Now he was a stocky young man with straw-colored hair slicked back to reveal a high forehead and large ears. His serious blue eyes crinkled into kindness when he smiled at her. She sensed a strength in him she’d not known before.

I love you, Jo. Will you marry me?

Yes, she murmured, and lost herself again in his embrace. Her lips met his with a passion that both thrilled and frightened her. What had she done? Was she ready for marriage? What about the ranch she’d always dreamed of?

He fished for something in his shirt pocket. Jo had never seen a thing so beautiful as the delicate diamond that sparkled in the moonlight. She felt her heart would burst as he gently slipped the ring on her finger and led her to a log to sit beside the lake.

I love the way your copper curls glisten in the moonlight. His voice matched the gentle breeze.

As his hand caressed her hair, they sat in silence, wrapped in the magic of the moonlit night. The pungent smell of sage wafted on the breeze as a jackrabbit hopped from behind a bush. The haunting howl of a coyote floated on the soft night air; the rabbit dashed across the desert, seeking cover. Jo felt she could sit forever, snuggled in the protective circle of Bob’s strong arms.

I report to the induction center tomorrow.

You do what?

I report to the induction center—

I heard you. Why didn’t you tell me before you proposed?

We’ve talked about this before. You knew I’d have to go.

I didn’t know you’d have to go tomorrow.

I thought you’d understand, Jo. He tried to draw her close, but she pulled away.

I understand all right. You think you’re a big man now. You don’t have to consult me anymore. Is that the way it will be in our marriage? Jo bit her lip, but the words were already out.

A chill hung between them for a long minute. Bob looked like he’d been kicked in the gut. Finally, he broke the silence.

Jo, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Guess I really bungled it. I thought if I had your commitment, I could face whatever lies ahead.

You get my commitment and then leave. You’re just like that rabbit—running away.

I’m not running away. I hate war as much as you do, but we can’t let a guy like Hitler—

A guy? A maniac! You’ll be killed. Jo sprang to her feet and balled her hands into fists. Bob started to chuckle.

What’s so funny?

You remind me of that time in fifth grade when you gave me a bloody nose. You’re beautiful when you’re angry.

Why did war have to steal the magic of such a night? On the way home Jo sat in stony silence as the conflicting emotions of love for Bob, and anger at a world at war, raged within her.

Dad and Mom were already in bed when Jo got home. Her news would have to wait. When she came in from milking in the morning, the aroma of bacon filled the room.

Mmm, hash browns, eggs, and bacon—my favorite breakfast. Jo washed her hands and slipped into her place at the table as Mom poured Dad’s coffee.

After prayer, Dad looked across the table at Jo. You look like the canary that swallowed the cat. What are you bursting to tell us?

Jo stifled a giggle as Mom said, Frank, wasn’t it the cat that swallowed the—

Oh, whatever.

Jo reached her left hand out to Mom. See what Bob gave me last evening.

Oh, that’s beautiful! I’m so happy for you. Mom squeezed her hand and Jo got up to give her a hug.

He’s a good man, Jo. You couldn’t do better. Dad smiled at her.

Thanks, Dad. She picked up her fork, then laid it down again. He’s leaving this morning to join the army.

Already? Mom twisted the gold band on her ring finger. Oh, Jo, I’m so sorry.

At the train station later that morning, Jo ignored the ache under her shirt and put on a brave smile. Mothers and sweethearts dabbed at their eyes as sons and loved ones climbed onto the train. Jo clung to Bob. If only she could stop this senseless war. Her chin trembled at the touch of his finger as he lifted her face to look into her eyes.

Still mad at me?

Jo swallowed the lump in her throat. No, but I wish you didn’t have to go.

I know. He drew her to him and their lips met in a farewell kiss. Then he was gone.

Jo stood with her friend, Kate Lundquist, and waved. Her heart echoed the mournful wail the train whistle sent over Rockville.

Kate put her arm around Jo’s shoulder. He’ll be back.

Yeah. She toyed with the ring that still felt strange on her finger.

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Jo shifted from one foot to the other. The Rockville Times had reported back in March that a German submarine had sunk the US freighter Robin Moore. All summer, she’d heard talk of war. Now it was August, and Bob was gone. Will he ever come back to me?

Jo, would you please stand still. Mom’s weary voice jolted Jo back to the present.

Oh. Sorry, Mom. Jo looked at the dirty dishes still on the supper table, then down at her mother, kneeling on the kitchen floor, pinning up the hem on her formal gown. Streaks of gray striped her once-black hair. Her rounded shoulders reminded Jo of the times they had spent a forenoon together scrubbing clothes on the washboard. She had gone off to ride with her friends, leaving Mom to pick the raspberries in the hot afternoon. If I’d been more thoughtful, maybe Mom wouldn’t be so worn out all the time.

Are you almost done? Jo said.

Yes, dear.

Thanks, Mom. I really appreciate your making this gown for me.

It won’t take long to whip in the hem. Mom stood and smiled at Jo. You’re beautiful in this powder-blue formal. It brings out the color of your eyes.

Jo flinched. Why couldn’t she be the young lady Mom wanted her to be? She felt smothered in her new formal. She went into the other room to struggle out of the dress and slip into her comfortable jeans and shirt. When she went back into the kitchen, her mother was clearing the table.

Mom, you go sit down and rest. I’ll do the dishes.

Oh, would you, dear? Then I’ll have time to hem your formal this evening. Mom settled herself in her sewing rocker in the front room.

She doesn’t know how to just sit and relax. Jo shrugged and began washing the dishes.

She put the last clean dish in the cupboard and hung up the dish towel. It’s a lovely evening, she said as she stepped into the front room. I think I’ll go for a little ride.

All right, dear. Thanks for doing the dishes.

I’ll be back by bedtime.

The sun dipped below the western horizon as Jo saddled Scamp. She thought of her brother, Clyde, somewhere out in the South Pacific. How she missed the talks they used to have at chore time, before he joined the navy. Maybe a ride out on the desert would help to settle her thoughts.

Jo put Scamp on an easy lope and headed south along the dirt road that soon brought her to the edge of the sagebrush. A cool breeze brushed through her hair and the cu-coo of a ground owl floated on the evening air. She relaxed into the movement of her horse as Scamp shied at a jackrabbit that hopped from under a clump of sagebrush. They chased it around an outcropping of lava before it disappeared over the next ridge.

Tension drained from her body as she swayed to the rhythm of her horse. She longed for the days when the Snake Flat Riders met at Alvin Braun’s place. Alvin was sweet on Kate back then, but Jo was Alvin’s team-roping partner. Now, Alvin and Kate were getting married, and she was to be the maid of honor. How can I be happy for my friends when my own fiancé has gone off to war? It doesn’t seem fair.

Overwhelmed with guilt, Jo tried to push these thoughts from her mind. She shuddered as she remembered the day Alvin’s dad had been gored by a bull. How proud she was of her friend—the way he had accepted the responsibility of the farm and the support of his mother. No wonder his draft board had excused him from military service. It was right that he should get a farm deferment.

Her thoughts turned to Kate and Alvin’s impending wedding. She dreaded all that fancy getup and walking down the aisle, but she would do it for her friends. Jo turned Scamp toward home and let him out for a little run. Here in the saddle was where she belonged, not walking down a church aisle as part of a wedding party.

When the day of the wedding arrived, Jo felt awkward in her formal and high-heeled slippers. She hoped Bob wouldn’t want a formal wedding. She looked around the Sunday-school room. Kate’s going-away outfit lay neatly on one of the pushed-back tables. How long would it be before Kate and Alvin’s kids would be meeting with other youngsters in this room on Sunday mornings?

Does my hair look all right, Jo? Kate peered into the full-length mirror the custodian had set up in the room for this occasion. The question brought Jo back to her present duties.

You look fabulous. Jo adjusted Kate’s veil and smoothed her train. She had always admired the picture her friend presented in her black riding breeches and red shirt, sitting atop her black horse, Beaufort. Now, with her raven hair, high cheekbones, and creamy complexion, she looked even more stunning in her white satin wedding gown, fitted at the waist, and descending in a full skirt to sweep the floor behind her.

Alvin will swoon when he sees you.

Oh, cut it out. Kate gave Jo a hug. I know this is hard for you with Bob gone and all, but he’ll be back before you know it, and then I’ll be your matron of honor.

Jo fumbled with the ring on her finger and forced a smile. There came a knock on the door.

Come in, Kate said. One of the ushers stuck his head in the door to say the procession was forming at the back of the sanctuary.

We’d better go, Jo said. I’ll keep track of your train as we go up the stairs. As they took their places, Jo handed Kate the bride’s bouquet of bright-red rosebuds. She looked to the front of the church to admire the arrangements of pink and red roses and salmon-colored gladiolus she had helped Mrs. Braun pick that morning.

Jo waited in her place in the procession. In spite of her efforts to look composed, her hand went up to the low neckline of her powder-blue gown with the puffed sleeves. Were her straps showing? The classical music pouring forth from the church organ did nothing to calm her nerves.

Finally, the ushers and bridesmaids started their measured tread up the center aisle. Why did everyone have to move so slowly? This was going to take forever.

As Jo preceded Kate and her father up the aisle, she wondered if anyone noticed she wobbled like a newborn calf. Her high-heeled slippers seemed to have a mind of their own.

She glanced up to see Alvin standing with the minister. How striking he looked. His broad shoulders and slender hips wore the black tuxedo with ease. His light-brown hair glistened, swept back in his characteristic pompadour. A bright-red rose boutonnière matched the red roses in Kate’s bouquet. Jo squared her shoulders and steadied her slow, measured steps. A smile spread across her face. Her two best friends were getting married. She would rejoice with them.

Jo made it through the ceremony and reception with only a few social blunders. Most embarrassing was spilling punch on the mother of the bride. After the guests left, she helped Kate out of her wedding gown and into her navy travel suit and bright-red blouse with ruffles down the front. As always, her friend looked ready to win a beauty contest. Jo wanted to tell her so, but conflicting feelings chased each other around like tumbleweeds in a whirlwind and choked off the words. She knew she wasn’t losing her best friend, but it sure seemed like it. She fought emotions that threatened to overwhelm her, and accompanied Kate to the car where Alvin waited. Jo managed a smile as she gave Kate a farewell hug.

She turned to Alvin with a handshake. Take good care of my friend.

Alvin pulled her into a loose embrace and kissed her lightly on the forehead. I will, Jo.

After Alvin and Kate left for their honeymoon, Jo busied herself preparing for college. She had already settled on Albion State Normal School, situated in the small, mountain town of Albion, which suited her better than a large city. It looked affordable and was close enough she could get home for a weekend once in a while.

On Tuesday morning, Jo saddled Scamp, her four-year-old buckskin gelding, and rode out into the pasture to look at her small herd of Black Whiteface cattle. Weeds along the ditch wore their fall colors and milkweed fuzz floated in the air. Something stirred deep within her. Autumn always spoke of change, but this autumn held a hint of sadness. How could she leave Scamp and her cattle and go off to college?

Jo eased Scamp into the herd and showed him the two steers she wanted to take to the auction. She was glad for the hours she had spent training him. She gave him his head and hung onto the saddle horn with both hands. He darted here and there, following every movement of the animal he was after. She would never lose the thrill of riding a good cutting horse! When Scamp had the two steers cut out of the herd, Jo drove them up to the barn where Dad waited with the pickup and stock trailer. They loaded the animals and headed to Rockville for the livestock auction.

After they left the gravel road and entered the highway, Dad smiled at Jo. You excited about going to college?

Excited and a little scared, I guess.

You’ll do fine, Jo.

I s’pose. But I’ll have to get used to wearing skirts and blouses. I can’t wear jeans all the time like I do on the farm.

You’ve been a great help to me this summer since Clyde left, but it’s time for you to learn to be something other than a farm hand.

I wonder what it’ll be like to be a school teacher. Jo watched the fields flip past. She could identify each crop—alfalfa, corn, potatoes, beets, beans, wheat, barley. If she married Bob, would she even pursue a teaching career, or would she settle down to be a farmer’s wife the rest of her life? She could see it now: scrubbing muck-dirty floors, wiping runny noses, sweating over a hot stove while her husband worked the fields with the horses she loved. What am I getting myself into?

The steers brought a good price at the sale. Jo picked up her check and joined Dad at the pickup. With the empty trailer rattling along behind, they drove up the gravel road from the sale yard to the highway that led into town. At the edge of town, they pulled into the Conoco station where Dad always got his gas. One of Jo’s high-school classmates came to the window on the driver’s side.

What’ll it be today, Mr. Barkley?

Fill ’er up, Sam. And check the oil.

When Sam had the gas tank filled, the oil checked, and the windshield washed, Dad paid him and drove on up Main Street to the only stoplight in town. As soon as Dad pulled around the corner and parked, Jo jumped out of the pickup and paused to look up at the two-story stone building. It always made her feel important to walk through those massive doors. Not only was the bank the most imposing building in town, it was the place where Dad had been able to secure a loan to start farming out at Snake Flat. A few years ago, Dad had helped her open her own account. They walked into the bank together. Dad withdrew some money and handed Jo a roll of bills.

Here’s your wages for the summer.

Four hundred dollars? Wow. Jo’s eyes glistened. Are you sure you can spare this much?

I wish it could be more. You’ve certainly earned it. Dad laid a hand on Jo’s shoulder. But with your mother’s doctor bills, that’s all I can squeeze out right now. Keep out what you think you’ll need for your duds and deposit the rest with your check. You’ll need it for college expenses.

Jo made a deposit to add to the money she had won team roping with Alvin. It felt good to have her own money to buy books and cover her tuition for the first quarter. What she would do beyond that, she wasn’t sure. She hoped she wouldn’t have to sell off any of her heifers. They were to be the start of the herd for the ranch she planned to own someday. What about Bob? Will there ever be a ranch?

Jo spent the rest of the week getting ready for college. Mom went with her to buy a few dresses, skirts, and blouses. Jo picked out one medium-blue suit with a slightly flared skirt and a light-blue, round-necked blouse. When she tried them on, she looked really dressed up, and to her surprise, they felt comfortable. She also bought a pair of black slacks, a pair of jeans, and a western shirt. Back home, she laid the suit, skirts, and slacks neatly in the bottom of a footlocker and folded the blouses on top. By Saturday night, Jo had the footlocker and one suitcase packed.

Sunday afternoon, Dad loaded Jo’s luggage into their car. He was already behind the wheel, with Mom beside him, when Jo came up from her basement room, carrying her boots and cowboy hat.

What are you bringing those for? Mom frowned and rubbed her forehead.

I don’t know. Just thought they might keep me from getting so homesick. Jo grinned and climbed into the back seat.

Chapter Two

When they arrived at the college, Jo checked in and got her room assignment. Mom and Dad helped get her things into her room. Then she went back out to the car with them.

Are you going to be all right? Mom twisted the gold band on her finger.

Jo gave her a hug. Sure, Mom, I’ll be fine. Jo wished she felt as confident as she sounded.

Dad put his arm around Jo’s shoulder. Don’t forget to come home once in a while. The cows are going to miss you.

Sure, Dad. Jo swallowed the frog in her throat. Take care of Scamp for me. Was that a little mist in Dad’s robin-egg-blue eyes?

As the car pulled onto the highway, Jo brushed the moisture from her own eyes and walked back into the dormitory. She stepped into the lounge and saw a bevy of chattering girls clustered at the far end. They all wore either tailored suits or skirts and blouses. These must be the seniors. Jo glanced down at her jeans. They were her new ones, and they were clean. Still, she felt awkward and out of place.

She surveyed the room. The well-worn couch and cushioned chairs had a friendly look about them. Their faded brown matched the tan carpet. Girls, some in dresses, some in jeans, sat stiffly on folding chairs that filled the gaps between the overstuffed furniture. Maybe she would fit in after all.

Jo slipped into a chair beside another girl wearing jeans. A matronly lady stepped through the door at the far end of the room. She wore a navy-blue tailored suit. The seniors scrambled for seats and turned their attention to the matron. Her hazel eyes, so warm and friendly, had a hint of steel in them. Jo made a mental note to keep on the good side of this lady.

Hello, girls, I’m Mrs. Andersen. I’m your dorm mother and this will be your home away from home for the next nine months. She turned to the senior girls. Let’s give a hearty welcome to the new girls who have joined us this year.

The girls responded with loud applause.

Before we continue, I want you all to know I am here to help you. If you have any problems, come to me. Over the years my girls have come to call me Mom Andersen, and that’s what I want to be while you are here. If you follow the rules, you will find me to be pleasant and understanding.

Jo could picture what Mrs. Andersen would be like if a girl didn’t follow the rules.

I’m passing around an information sheet. She handed a stack of papers to the girl on her right and waited until each girl had the information.

Take note of number ten.

Jo looked at number ten: Doors are locked at nine-thirty on school nights, ten-thirty on Friday and Saturday.

I don’t fancy getting up to unlock the door. Smothered giggles came from the girls on the sofa. Lights are out at ten o’clock on school nights. Each floor has a study room for those who need to study later. I’ll give you a few minutes to read the information, and then I’ll answer any questions before we have our informal get-acquainted time.

Mrs. Andersen beckoned to one of the senior girls. They disappeared through the door into the dorm mother’s office and returned with punch and cookies. After setting the refreshments on a cloth-covered table, Mrs. Andersen glanced around the room. Do you have any questions?

The girl next to Jo raised her hand. It says students will appear in the dining room in dresses or skirts. Does this mean we can’t ever wear pants in the dining room?

Miss Ryan, Head of Home Economics, will be your dining-hall hostess. She will expect you to come to dinner in proper attire. She does relax the rule somewhat on weekends. Mrs. Andersen smiled. However, I would advise you to change into something suitable before dinner this evening. Anyone else? Mrs. Andersen paused. None of the other girls raised her hand. Help yourselves to the refreshments and get acquainted with someone you don’t know.

The room erupted into a babble of voices as the seniors greeted old friends and welcomed new girls. Jo turned to greet the girl next to her. Before she could think what to say, the girl said, You look familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?

I don’t know. Where are you from?

Brushdel.

Do you ever go to the rodeo on the Fourth?

That’s it! You’re Jo Barkley, the team roper.

Guess you could say that.

My brother hates you.

Oh, that’s nice. Jo shrugged. How come?

Because you and Alvin Braun always win the purse in team roping. I’m Arlene Holcome.

Oh, you must be TJ Holcome’s sister! Jo grinned. TJ and his partner don’t have much use for Alvin and me.

Anyone who can beat TJ at roping, Arlene put out her hand, is a friend of mine. They shook hands.

Where’s your room? Jo ran her fingers through her tangle of red curls.

The single room at the end of the west wing on the second floor. Where’s yours?

"Opposite end of the hall. Single room at the end of the east wing. What say we go to our