by Danni Roan
“Shall we?” he asked, his arm around his new bride. “Mother, after you.”
The whole family walked up the aisle together while their friends and neighbors smiled and waved.
At the entrance a tall boy with a hank of dark hair spilling over his eyes kicked his toe nervously, but raised his eyes to Mrs. Nelson. “I’m sorry I though you was a witch.” He rushed, his words a breathy whisper, “I didn’t know you was a ma.” He turned on his heel and dashed away before the older woman could speak.
“Toby did well,” Rebecca said, leaning into Grady, her words bright.
“I didn’t put him up to it,” Grady said, pulling her close. “That was all him.”
The wedding supper and dance got in to full swing when Byron rosined up his bow and set to fiddling.
“They look fine together, don’t they, Pastor?” George asked, sidling up to the preacher.
“Yes, yes they do.” Charles Dalton watched as Ty, his gray eyes full of light, guided his young bride around the dance area.
“I was worried they’d put it off and then lose their nerve.” George smiled.
“Yes, sometimes a little prompting can aid a body in the right direction.” The preacher rocked up on his toes then back on his heels. “Been a passel of weddings this year,” he finished with a wink.
“May I cut in?” George walked up to Polly, where she was dancing Aaron around to the music.
He tickled the little boy under the chin, laughing at the boy’s giggle.
Polly smiled at her husband, thinking back on the days when they were young, as she handed Aaron to Maud.
“You got a room all fixed for Mrs. Nelson?” George asked, placing his hand on Polly’s hip and swaying to the music with an old familiar rhythm.
“Yes, she insisted on staying at the boarding house this week while Ty and Jillian get settled.” She grinned wider, causing the lines around her eyes to crinkle and crease. “Aaron’s staying with us tonight,” she added.
“Won’t that be sweet,” George smiled, watching as Maud chased after the little man.
“You think Ty will give up Marshalin’?” Polly asked, “I’d hate to see that girl widowed again.”
“He’ll be alright,” George mused. “He’s no spring pup.” He squeezed her hand. “I think he’ll settle now.”
The music ended and night crept in.
Epilogue
“You’d like him, Phineas,” Jillian said to the headstone behind the house. It had been hard when Ferd had returned with the body and the items that identified her husband. She had loved him, part of her still did.
“You alright?” Tywyn walked up behind her, wrapping a strong arm around her waist.
“I am. I hope you don’t mind I come out here sometimes,” she added, turning into his arms.
“No, I understand. He must have been a good man if he loved you.” She smiled.
“I was just telling him the same thing about you,” Jillian grinned. Sorrow and joy mingled in her heart, but the light shone through, bringing peace.
“Where’s Aaron?” Jillian asked, smoothing the collar of Ty’s long duster.
“With Chip,” Ty answered with a chuckle.
“At least I know he’s safe with that animal. He’s grown so much.”
“He leads that horse around like a puppy.” Ty shook his head, still shocked at how gentle the mean horse was with his son.
“You have to go, don’t you?” Jillian asked, resting her head against his shoulder and feeling his heart beat through her.
“Yes, this is the last job and my tenure’s up.”
“You’ll be careful.”
“I’ll be a downright coward if it brings me home to you,” Ty joshed. “Mother’s arriving today. You won’t be alone.”
“I’m never alone,” Jillian said, leaning in and kissing him.
“I know, but…” his voice trailed off.
“It’s alright, Ty. I love you and I know that God is watching over you, but you belong to Him before you belong to me and I have to trust Him with you.”
“How’d you get so smart?” Ty whispered, pulling her tight. “Loving you gets easier every day.”
Together they walked around the house to find Aaron, drawing with a stick in the dust, the pinto stationed behind him defensively.
“Let’s go meet the train,” Ty called smiling. “Grama’s coming.”
“Grama-Grama.” Aaron called, racing to Ty, who grabbed him, tossing him high.
***
“I do not know what all the fuss is about,” Aquila grumbled, walking into the boarding house behind her mother. “I’m perfectly comfortable at the ranch.”
“I know, dear, but this way you’ll be closer to the doc when your time comes.”
“Mother, I wish everyone would just leave me alone,” Quil stormed into the kitchen, her hands balled into fists.
“Hello Polly,” Maud spoke. “I’ve brought your newest boarder.”
Aquila dropped into a chair. “I hope Cam hurries back from the store,” she fumed. “He’s the only one who doesn’t treat me like an invalid.”
“You in the kitchen?” Cameron Royal’s deep voice rumbled down the hall.
“Yes, Cam,” Aquila called back, glaring at everyone.
“I’ve got something for you,” Cam said, striding toward them with a wide grin on his face.
“You didn’t need to get me anything,” Quil replied, her eyes lighting on the heavy wooden box in his hands as he hefted it onto the table.
“Is this what I think it is?” Quil’s delight seemed to fill the kitchen as she flipped the latch on the front of the box and lifted the lid, letting it fall back on heavy hinges.
“It is!” the young woman with the protruding belly squealed, clasping her hands then running them all over shining machine. In moments, the click, click, ching of the typewriter echoed through the room.
“Polly, them last guests are all gone.” George walked through the back door. “Oh hello,” he smiled at the other women.
“Hello George,” Maud smiled. “Hello Clara,” she added.
“Oh yeah, I brought Clara from the station,” George spoke absently, watching Quil hitting various keys with a satisfying clatter.
“What is that?” he finally asked, looking up at Cameron.
“It’s a typewriter.” Cam grinned, studying his wife, who was completely absorbed.
“Give me paper.” Quil flapped her hand impatiently, but Polly pulled down several sheets with a grin.
“What’s that noise?” Prissy walked down the hall, her blonde curls drooping slightly, as if she’d been somewhere hot.
“Cameron bought Quil a typewriter,” Maud said, her eyes bright. “I think that will keep her out of trouble until this baby comes.”
“Hello Prissy,” Polly offered. “How about a nice glass of iced tea and a cookie?”
“No thank you, Ms. Polly,” Prissy answered. “I don’t feel like anything right now.”
“Were you trying some of Mr. Rupert’s new baked goods again?” Maud asked, shaking her head at her daughter.
“No, I’m just tired,” Prissy spoke, toying with the strap on her large, woven bag.
Mrs. Nelson patted her on the shoulder. “Cooking for others, them what’s not your family, can do that to you,” she said in an understanding tone.
“Well, we’d better leave you all to it.” Maud said, standing and kissing Quil on the cheek. “Come on Prissy. Let’s go home. George and Polly have enough to do with so many guests traveling this time of year.”
“Yes, Mama.” Prissy, rose obediently following her mother down the hall.
“Oh, good morning Ty, Jillian and our little Aaron.” Maud’s voice was friendly as she met them at the door. “Everyone’s in the kitchen,” she added, heading to her wagon, Priscilla on her heels.
“Aren’t they always?” Ty said with a grin, making Jillian laugh.
“Oh, there’s my little one.” Mrs. Nelson hustled down the hall
, arms stretched toward Aaron. Taking him from Tywyn, she kissed his cheeks repeatedly, making a fuss.
“Come back to the kitchen,” she called, heading in that direction. “I have something for you.”
Ty looked at Jillian, not sure what his mother could have.
“Here, you hold him for a minute,” Clara barked, handing the boy to Polly. “It’s in here,” she continued, digging through a large valise. “Here!” she called triumphantly, handing a paper to Ty.
“What is it?” he asked unfolding the pages.
“It’s your discharge papers or whatever you call them in the Marshall’s Service,” she said. “You’re no longer a US Marshall.” She grinned broadly.
“What? How?” Ty stammered. “I was told I had one more assignment.”
“Yes, well apparently, a man was captured in California who confessed to everything,” Clara shrugged, “so you don’t have to go.”
Jillian threw herself in to Ty’s arms. “Thank heavens,” she sighed with relief, tears springing to her eyes. “I know I said I trust God to look out for you, and I do, but I’m so happy you don’t have to go.”
Tywyn wrapped his beautiful wife in his arms. “That’s a mighty fine gift, Ma,” He grinned, speaking over the clatter and ding of the typewriter. “Now let’s go home.”
The End
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Dear Reader,
Thank you for choosing to read my book. I hope you have enjoyed it as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it. I you enjoyed the story please feel free to leave a review wherever you purchased the book. Leaving a review will help me and prospective readers to know what you liked about this book. It is an opportunity for your voice to be heard and for you to tell others why the story is worth a read.
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.