by Danni Roan
“You’ve been talking to Olive again haven’t you,” Spencer said leaning in and taking the items from her with a quick kiss.
“She’s right Spencer,” Daliah insisted. “If there were more women in town, the men might settle down a bit.”
“You mean wives,” Spencer said, filling the mug and walking back to the cell, placing it in the inebriated man’s hands.
“You have a wife and it doesn’t seem to have done you any harm,” Daliah teased. “Olive is just thinking about this town. I know it’s a cow town, but the families that came here with you are trying to make something of it, and the Governor said that the rail would reach Dallas this winter. That means more people will be arriving.”
Spencer pulled Daliah into him as he perched on the desk kissing her softly and laughing when she blushed.
“And how do you plan on getting single young women to come to our little town?” He asked.
“I don’t know,” Daliah admitted, “but Olive has something up her sleeve.”
Spencer laughed. “I’ll leave her to it then. We have a load of work that still needs done around here. We only just got the jail built, and from what Dan says, we’ll see cold weather soon.”
“I’m glad the Scripts have their store finished,” Daliah mused. “It’s still a little rough, and they don’t have much in stock until Mr. Scripts goes back down to Galveston.”
“Good thing I brought you all those nice things for our house when I came home then isn’t it,” Spencer teased.
“I can’t believe all of the things you brought,” Daliah said. “Every time I cook a meal, or do the wash, I’m thankful.”
Spencer leaned in kissing her lips one more time. “You are way too easy to please,” he said.
“I had no idea the day I was dismissed from the bank in Smithfield what it would lead to,” Daliah said. “I have a home of my own, a rather hearty fix and stitch situation where I can help those in need, and am married to the world’s most handsome sheriff,” she finished with a bright smile.
“I can’t say I saw that coming,” Spencer admitted. “I’m just thankful that between working Dan’s ranch and helping to keep the streets clear of trouble makers, I can provide for you and Chad. Where is he by the way?”
“Chad is doing lessons with Ben,” she said. “He’s using our parlor today, but they’ve been discussing a school.”
“Aren’t many kids that need a school,” Spencer mused taking her hand and leading her out the door. “I never would have taken old Ben as the type to pick up teaching. Didn’t even know he could read for that matter,” he added closing the door and turning to walk home with his lovely wife.
Together they paused gazing down the clean street of the town. On one end the old saloon stood, the faint sound of a tinny piano drifting from its open doors. On the other end the Hampton House stood tall and proud, ready to welcome newcomers with a brightly painted sign declaring good eats and rooms.
Their own place was next door to the jail, and Daliah had plans for planting flowers and a garden in the spring.
“A lot fewer tents these days,” Spencer said. “I can’t believe what has been accomplished in this town already in just eight months.”
“It’s a Needful town,” Daliah said, taking his arm, “but God can provide all our needs if we believe.”
***
Olive rifled through the pages of the paper that had arrived in the mail searching for a specific small brochure. “I know it’s here somewhere,” she grumbled, turning to look accusingly at some of the married women of Needful. “Ah, here it is,” she called waving it high. “I’ll give you each a page and you see what you can find. We have a great need here in Needful, and I think this will be the best way to go about it.”
Olive Hampton pulled the pages of the smaller issue apart handing them to the three other women in her parlor.
“What do you want us to do with it?” Mrs. Scripts asked. “How are we supposed to get this done?”
“We’ll each choose one of the needful and find a likely match,” Mrs. Hampton said settling in front of the quilting frame that had been lowered from the ceiling an hour earlier. “We’ll all write letters and inquiries until we find one that fits the need, and then we’ll pool our resources and bring them out.”
The other women nodded their heads peering down at the pages in their hands.
“I hope the train comes through in January like they’s sayin’ it will,” one of the older women said. “It will make this whole enterprise, much easier.”
The End
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About the Author
Danni Roan, a native of western Pennsylvania, spent her childhood roaming the lush green mountains on horseback. She has always loved westerns and specifically western romance and is thrilled to be part of this exciting genre. She has lived and worked overseas with her husband and tries to incorporate the unique quality of the people she has met throughout the years into her books. Although Danni is a relatively new author on the scene, she has been a story teller for her entire life, even causing her mother to remark that as a child “If she told a story, she had to tell the whole story.” Danni is truly excited about this new adventure in writing and hopes that you will enjoy reading her stories as much as she enjoys writing them.
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About the Author
About the Author
Danni Roan, a native of western Pennsylvania, spent her childhood roaming the lush green mountains on horseback. She has always loved westerns and specifically western romance and is thrilled to be part of this exciting genre. She has lived and worked overseas with her husband and tries to incorporate the unique quality of the people she has met throughout the years into her books. Although Danni is a relatively new author on the scene she has been a story teller for her entire life, even causing her mother to remark that as a child “If she told a story, she had to tell the whole story.” Danni is truly excited about this new adventure in writing and hopes that you will enjoy reading her stories as much as she enjoys writing them.
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