A Teacher's Heart

By Cynthia Hickey

Ozark Mountains, 1932

Small Town teacher Mary Jo Stevens yearns to make a difference in her community and starts with giving her shoes to a young mother in need. The rest of the town thinks she's lost her mind.

As a Demonstration Agent for the Arkansas Welfare Department, Bill Wright travels to every hill and hollow in the Ozarks to teach men and women how to make the best of their situations. But he needs the assistance of someone like Mary Jo to gain the community's trust.

Can she trust an outsider who thinks he knows best?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cynthia Hickey
• Release date: Nov 10, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215265468

Cynthia Hickey

Multi-published and best-selling author, Cynthia Hickey, has taught writing at many conferences and small writing retreats. She and her husband run the publishing press, Winged Publications, which includes some of the CBA's best well-known authors. They live in Arizona and Arkansas, becoming snowbirds with two dogs and one cat. They have ten grandchildren who them busy and tell everyone they know that "Nana is a writer."   

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A Teacher’s Heart

By Cynthia Hickey

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Copyright © 2022 Cynthia Hickey

Published by: Winged Publications

Previously published by Barbour publishing in the Barefoot Brides anthology

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

No part of this book may be copied or distributed without the author’s consent.

All rights reserved.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

To my family: You are cherished

Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times? Jesus answered, "I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.

Matthew 18:21-22

Chapter 1

Ozark Mountains, Arkansas, 1932

Mary Jo Stevens stared at the rickety wagon in front of her. There was only one spot to sit next to the driver, and Mama Aida would need it. The back didn’t have much more room, loaded down with crates of school supplies donated by the church.

Climb on up, Mary Jo. Mama Aida climbed onto the seat. Hop on back. We’ve got to get a move on. Dark is coming and it’s a ways up the mountain to our new home.

With a sigh, Mary Jo did as her mother-in-law said and perched on the back of the flatbed. The driver clucked to the horses and sent them jolting ahead. Mary Jo promptly slid off the back and ended up in a pile of rocks and leaves.

Wait! She ran to keep up, dragging her satchel.

The wagon continued without her. Darkness fell early in the mountains.

She stared for a moment, mouth gaping, then clutched the handle of her satchel tighter and began the long trek to her new home as the night deepened around her. She had no hope the wagon would turn around and fetch her. The road ahead wasn’t wide enough. Why hadn’t they sent someone with an automobile?

A horn sounded behind her.

Mary Jo screamed and leaped into the ditch. Ask and you shall receive. Hadn’t she just wished for an automobile? Yes, but not for one to almost run her over.

Something screamed in the trees behind her. Mary Jo dashed for the truck. Someone’s in there. They’re injured.

No, ma’am, I reckon that’s a cougar. You might want to climb in here. The passenger door opened.

A cougar? She couldn’t get in the truck fast enough. Only then did she realize she’d left her satchel in the ditch. It held almost all of her earthly belongings. My bag.

I’ll get it. A man, so handsome Mary Jo forgot about her fear, grinned at her. Blue eyes twinkled under inky black hair. A cleft deepened in his chin.

But...the cougar.

It won’t harm me. Just stay in the truck. He rushed to fetch her bag, returning without harm. He closed his door, shutting off the dome light. I’m William Wright. Folks call me Bill.

Mary Jo Stevens. The new teacher. She held out her hand.

He returned the shake. I’m a demonstration agent for the Arkansas Welfare Department. I’m here to help the people of this hollow live better lives.

It seems we share a common goal.

I guess we do. He pressed the gas and took them bouncing down the dirt road. Why are you wandering out here alone?

I fell off the wagon. My mother-in-law and the driver probably haven’t noticed I’m gone. An idea that rankled. Mama Aida would be babbling on about whatever interested her that day and most likely wouldn’t look back once.

We’ll catch up to them with little trouble, I’m guessing. He cut her a sideways glance. You’re married?

Widowed, going on five years now. The pain had lessened after Frank’s death. Mama Aida had nowhere to go but to stay with me.

That’s kind of you.

We get along well, thankfully. She stared out the window at the darkness. She was grateful. Mama Aida had claimed her as daughter from the moment she’d met Frank at the age of fifteen. They’d had two wonderful years of marriage together, until he died in a logging accident.

There they are. Bill motioned ahead, the truck’s lights illuminating a wagon. Do you want me to drop you off?

No, thank you. There’s no room for me. She waved as they squeezed past, tree branches scraping the side of the truck.

Mama Aida’s mouth dropped open before she spoke words Mary Jo couldn’t hear over the rattle of the truck. Oh, I’ll hear about it when I get home. She’ll want to know all about the stranger who drove me home. You aren’t a serial killer, are you?

Bill laughed. Nothing as exciting as that. Maybe you’ll be able to help me once you know your students’ families better.

With what? She turned sideways to face him.

Well, I teach men how to build sturdy, inexpensive farm homes, using stones and concrete so they last longer.

Not a lot of concrete out here.

I also teach the women how to make furniture and tick mattresses. How to grow and sell products from their gardens and kitchens. I form better baby clubs.

So, you butt into people’s business. She narrowed her eyes.

No. I help them. He glanced at her, then back to the road.

The people up here are proud. She crossed her arms. They won’t take to a city boy coming in and telling them how things are done. I bet you have all kinds of ideas on how I should run my classroom, too.

I have some brochures, yes. He arched a brow

That’s my house, I think. She peered through the window,