Josephine's Dream

By Cynthia Hickey

Josephine Montgomery wants independence and a family of her own.

Parker Owens wants to run a successful ranch and find a nanny for his children.

 

Now penniless, the once wealthy Josephine arrives in town having lied about her credentials. She's no way fit to be a nanny and Parker sees right through her. Still, he lets her stay on when his little girl accepts the woman on the spot.

 

These two must overcome their two very different lifestyles and find a way to work together. Neither of them expected to love in love.

 

When danger strikes, will they find out that love is worth the price?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cynthia Hickey
• Release date: Nov 10, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215856437

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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Josephine’s Dream

Cynthia Hickey

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Copyright © 2022 Cynthia Hickey

Published by: Winged Publications

Previously published by Barbour publishing in the Crinoline Cowboys 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

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 1

Texas, 1868

Josephine Montgomery, dressed in what used to be her third-best dress and now was her first best, stared once again at the crumpled sheet of paper in her hand. The stagecoach had dropped her off in Crinoline Creek almost an hour ago. Where was her new employer?

After the loss of her family’s land and her parents’ deaths, she vowed—no, dreamed—of being a self-sufficient woman. One day, she’d own something of her own that could never be taken away from her. This place, this town, was her hope for the beginning of that dream.

A commotion across the street drew her attention. A small boy darted from the café into the street. A tall man chased after him, three more children on his heels, scooped the runaway, and carried him under his arm like a sack of flour. As Josephine stared, the group tromped her way and stopped in front of her. Five pairs of blue eyes stared.

Hello, she said. Heavens. Four children under the age of ten. I’m Josephine Montgomery. Are you Mr. Owens and family?

The man set the little boy on his feet but kept a firm grip on the collar of his nut-brown shirt. I am. This rascal is Ben, he’s nine. Sadie is seven, Robbie is five, and this scalawag is Luke, age four. We’ve supper ordered at the café so we can get acquainted. He peered around her. Your things?

Inside the office. They can wait. She swallowed against the cotton in her throat. What in the world possessed her to come to Crinoline Creek, Texas as a nanny/housekeeper? Mr. Owens would see through her lie in seconds. Still. She tightened her grip on her reticule, lifted her chin, and stepped off the wooden sidewalk. Her foot sank into something soft.

You stepped in dung, Miss Montgomery. Ben slapped his hat against his thigh.

That’s enough. Mr. Owen’s attempt at a straight face failed. Soon the entire family was laughing at Josie’s expense.

She scraped the bottom of her shoe against the sidewalk and marched toward the café. If she had any other recourse, any other way of making a living, she’d plant her petticoated self in the stagecoach office until another arrived to take her back to Georgia. As it was, she was penniless and had sold most of her clothes, as evidenced by the out-of-date traveling suit she now wore. She had to stay and make the best of things.

She stopped in front of the café and waited for Mr. Owens to open the door for her. He must have said something to the little ruffians because not one word was spoken as they entered and took their seats.

I do apologize, Miss Montgomery, Mr. Owens said, pulling out her chair. I’m not making excuses, but my brood have been without a mother for four years. They could use the influence of an educated lady such as yourself.

Josie took her seat and stared at her lap, trying to come up with a suitable response. I . . . will do my best. She met his gaze and lost her nerve at the warm look in his sky-blue eyes and spilled out the fact she’d never worked as a nanny or a housekeeper. Her family used to be plantation owners before the war. She badly needed a job. After much prayer for the right opportunity to come along, she sincerely hoped she’d found it.

Her employer took a seat across the table from her. You do know children, though, right? How to run a house? Aren’t Southern ladies taught these things?

I know how to embroider, paint, and press flowers. Tears stung her eyes. The things she’d once enjoyed seemed so frivolous now. She glanced up and squared her shoulders. I’m willing to learn anything, Mr. Owens.

He sighed. Might as well call me Parker. We’ll discuss your duties on the ride home. Best eat fast. It’s a good ride from town. He motioned to a young girl who set plates of stew in front of each of them.

Call me Josie, please. Her stomach rumbled. Peeling off her gloves, she set them inside her reticule and lifted her spoon.

You sound like a bear, Luke said.

I must confess to being as hungry as one, she replied, taking her first bite. Oh, my. She glanced at the kitchen. Would the cook offer to teach her how to create such delicious fare?

Luke’s statement seemed to have opened the dam, and the children fired Josie with questions. What do we call you?

Can you read?

Are you old?

You ain’t bigger than a minute.

They kept on until she set down her spoon. Glancing from one to the other, finally settling on their father, who watched the proceedings with amusement, she held up her right index finger and returned her attention to the younger Owenses. First of all, one at a time. Second, you may call me Miss Josie. Third, yes, I can read, and I am nineteen. Please do not comment on a woman’s size or age, it is not proper. She lifted her chin. Perhaps she could be of use to these children after all. She cut a glance to their father. Well?

What? His spoon paused on its way to his mouth.

You obviously allowed this type of behavior as some sort of test. Did I pass?

He chuckled. With flying colors, Miss Josie. He removed his napkin from his lap and placed it on the table. Children, let’s get Miss Josie home before dark. He led the way, and Josie followed. When she glanced back, she saw the children falling into line youngest to oldest, like an adorable bunch of little ducklings.

The little girl stepped out of line and slipped her hand into Josie’s. Thank you for being a girl.

Josie fell in love.

~

If Parker had any second thoughts about the hiring of a woman who reached to midchest while wearing boots, they fled with the simple statement from his little girl. He’d never realized how much she needed a womanly influence in her life. Whether she was experienced or not, they’d have to manage with the new nanny.

This is our wagon. He patted the neck of one of the bay horses. We’ve a fine ranch of Texas cattle, a comfortable home, and ten ranch hands. He helped Miss Josie onto the seat while the children climbed in back with the supplies. Two trunks he’d never seen before had been placed among the sacks of feed and other household necessities. Obviously, someone had figured out Miss Josie would be leaving with him.

Sadie, staying as close to her nanny as possible, leaned over the seat and fingered the lace around the brim of the woman’s hat. Silly thing. Wouldn’t keep the sun out of a person’s eyes. He eyed the dress she wore. Not fitting either, especially with all those layers. Hopefully, she’d brought more sensible clothing. If