BONE-SETTERS & A SHORT HISTORY OF CASTS

By Kathryn Albright

   
In books or movies of the Old West, someone with a broken leg or arm will often have their injury splinted with sticks for immobilization. Usually this is “out in the bush,” but for my next book in the Oak Grove Series, The Prairie Doctor’s Bride, this method wouldn’t work.
   
When a cantankerous mule at the livery kicks Wally Brown, Doctor Graham must set the fracture of his lower arm in his home office. Now, Doctor Graham was not a lay doctor or bone-setter (a barber or in a pinch, the blacksmith.) He attended a prestigious school back east in Boston, and then had several years of experience, employed by the Kansas-Pacific Railroad Company to attend the men building the railroad. So, I had to find out a little more about the history of care for fractures.
   

The earliest known care for a broken bone (after resetting) dates back to the early Egyptians of the 5th Dynasty (2400 B.C.) Hippocrates, a physician of the 4th century BC, wrote about immobilizing the bone to let it heal and also having the injured person do specific exercises to prevent atrophy of the muscles. His writings spoke of using cloth soaked in resin and wax. A little later on, starch was added to assist with quicker hardening. Throughout the next 1500 years, different solutions and pastes were used, such as egg whites, clay, and gum mixtures.If a person had a broken bone, they did a LOT of laying around.

Plaster of Paris had been used as a building material for centuries, but in the early 19th century, it became widely used for immobilizing broken bones. The injured limb would be reset and placed inside a wooden box and then the plaster poured over it, encasing the leg or arm in a rigid sleeve. This was heavy and made it impossible for the injured person to move.

Then in the 1830s, Louis Seutin, a doctor in the Belgian army, used strips of linen and carton (or pasteboard) splints that were wet and molded to the limb. The limb was then wrapped in bandages and coated with a starch solution and allowed to dry.

GAUZE COATED WITH PLASTER OF PARIS

Building on Seutin’s work, Antonious Mathijsen, a medical doctor in the Dutch army, found that strips of coarse cotton cloth into which dry plaster of Paris had been rubbed, could be applied and then moistened with a sponge or brush. The cast would harden as it was rubbed and would dry in minutes. Another version of this would be to very carefully dip the dressing or cloth into a bucket of water, so as not to dislodge the plaster of Paris already rubbed into the cloth, and then apply it to the limb. This lighter-weight, smaller cast made it possible for a person to move about while a bone healed.

WALKING CAST

Mathijsent wrote about his method and it was published in 1852 in a medical magazine, Repertorium. This became the standard for setting broken bones until 1950 with only a few minor changes—ie: the use of shellac to make the cast water-resistant. And alterations such as this picture--with a stub to enable walking and yet keeping the cast dry and clean.

So – knowing this – I could finally write the scene where Doc Graham took care of Wally Brown’s arm and actually used a plaster of Paris cast! I hope you find this interesting. I do – but then I have always been fascinated with the history of medicine.

If you are interested in more information, here are a few links to check out:

http://hankeringforhistory.com/history-of-the-cast/
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5420179
https://janeaustensworld.wordpress.com/2010/10/08/setting-a-broken-bone-19th-century-medical-treatment-was-not-for-sissies
   

* * * * * * * *

Coming in December! 

    Nelson Graham has had every advantage in life.
Is it possible for this Boston-trained doctor and a woman who “lives off the land”
to find any common ground?

For more information on this book and others, please visit and follow ~

WEBSITE  |  FACEBOOK  |  AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE |  BOOKBUB

   
   
   

A Family Saga over Three Generations and Six Decades!

The newest offering of the beloved Texas Romance family saga, AT LIBERTY TO LOVE, delivers it all. It is a stand alone, but as in any series, all the more enjoyable when the previous stories are read in order. This book seven in the series takes you on a journey from Texas to California, delivering romance fraught with obstacles. Readers who've enjoyed the series met the heroine as a nine years old back in 1832, but thirty-three years have passed, and life hasn't always been kind.

Jacket Copy:
Obedience is better than sacrifice…and trumps romance, no matter how sweet.
   Profound loneliness propels a childless widow west with the idea of choosing an orphan to share her life. On the way, a fellow traveler takes her by surprise. She never dreams, is unprepared, doesn’t need another man, but can’t get him out of her head…or heart. He’s so perfect—every bit the one she’d searched for as a young woman—except his mistrust of God has erected a wall she cannot breach.
    Marcus Ford blames God and struggles for peace after losing his wife and baby. Not once has he considered another woman could be the answer, but the widow is like none other he’s ever met. He falls hard, but plans are taking him east. Hope dashed sends two hearts into the pit. If only Ford could forgive God or the widow ease up on her adamant resolve.
   Will God’s mercy shine a beacon in the fog of despair and prove sufficient to heal their souls?
 
Excerpt:
    Stepping off the last stair, she approached.
    He inhaled deeply then shook his head. “Oh my.” He drew in another long breath, closing his eyes. “You smell better than you look. I mean, you look outstanding, but your fragrance is even better. Not that you didn’t smell good before… I mean…” He finally just shrugged. “Your appearance shames me. I should have brought my dress blues.”
    “I understand, but here.” She handed him her door key, grinning. “On my couch, you’ll some new threads…the least Henry Buckmeyer could do.”
    At first, he didn’t take it, then scooped it up like a kid in a candy store and took the stairs two at a time.
    “I’ll wait on the deck, just outside the dining room.”
    Waving with one hand, he didn’t look back.
    Might do the man a bit of good to have his pride pricked. She chuckled, so enjoying the highly pleasant distraction he afforded.
    Took him longer than expected, but the wait was well worth it. The ready-made suit fit perfect. She loved the shirt’s high collar and how it seemed to choke him.
    He grinned then extended his arm. “Thank you.”
    Such the gentleman! She slipped her hand under then over his offering. “You’re welcome.” She glanced down. He’d shined his boots. Per chance that accounted for the extra time.

Reviews:
I don't know how Caryl McAdoo does it, but each book in this Texas Romance series just gets better! "At Liberty to Love" is book 7, and its message is "Obedience is better than sacrifice…and trumps romance, no matter how sweet."  This book is a must read.  I highly recommend this author and whole series. –Joy Roberts, Tennessee reader

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AT LIBERTY TO LOVE #ChristianFiction Family Saga #HistoricalRomance http://www.amazon.com/dp/1533016798 @CarylMcAdoo

Bio: Caryl McAdoo, loving God, currently writes four series: the historical Christian ‘Texas Romance’; a contemporary ‘Red River Romance’; The Generations, her Biblical fiction, and the newest Days of Dread Trilogy for mid-grade and young adult readers. Oft called the Singing Pray-er, she loves praising with new songs the Lord gives her and prays her story gives God glory!
    In 2008, she and her high school sweetheart-husband Ron moved from the DFW area—home for fifty-plus years—to the woods of Red River County. Caryl counts four children and sixteen grandsugars life’s biggest blessings, believing all good things come from God. Besides glorifying Him, she hopes each title will also minister His love, mercy, and grace to its readers.
    Caryl and Ron live in Clarksville, the county seat, in the far northeast corner of the Lone Star State with two grandsons.

Links: 
All Books    At Liberty to Love    BookBub    Website   Newsletter Blog                      
Facebook    GoodReads    Google+    LinkedIn    Twitter    Pinterest    Puzzle

YouTube (Hear Caryl sing her New Songs!)

Stagecoaches & Steamships

In 1865, my heroine in AT LIBERTY TO LOVE (book seven in the Texas Romance series) wanted to go from northeast Texas (Red River County) to San Francisco. Her trip began in downtown Clarksville, the county seat, where the Donoho Hotel served as the station.  
Work a jigsaw PUZZLE  !!

The coach took the Jefferson Trace, about one hundred miles south and east. It could travel about ten miles before changing teams, so they made about ten stops along the way including at Cuthand, Mount Pleasant, and Daingerfield to name a few. It took about twelve hours.    Work another PUZZLE  !!

The same trip thirty-three years earlier in 1832, when the widow Sue Baylor made a valiant effort to get her cotton crop to market in book one, VOW UNBROKEN, lasted ten days with no setbacks. It took her lots longer.
Work a jigsaw PUZZLE  !!

From Jefferson, my AT LIBERTY TO LOVE heroine took a short steamboat ride down the Red River to the Mississippi for five days to get down to New Orleans.

Those river steamboats were a lower draft where they could also go upriver farther. They were older and smaller. The steamships built to navigate the Gulf and Pacific were larger and drew more water (the draft is how much the boat set into the water. These ship’s bread and butter were the U.S. mail contracts. Freight and passengers were the gravy.

In New Orleans, my lady steamed across the Gulf to reach Caracus, a new city thrown up for the crossing of the Isthmus. There she purchased a seat on the train across the Isthmus to the City of Panama, built in the 1500s with a Spanish influence...a lot like New Orleans, but on the Pacific side of the Isthmus the city enjoyed a good trade. It quite impressed!

The cost from New Orleans to Caracas—which took five or six days depending on weather—cost less than the one day train fare. Prior to the railroad being built in the early 1850s, travelers crossed in barges or canoes part of the way and wagons the rest. That normally took three days with tropical heat and humidity and many insect un-pleasantries. So the train ride, though more expensive, was deemed well worth the price and a necessity rather than a luxury. In Panama City, she again boarded a steamship for the Pacific Ocean leg of her journey.

Those steamships stayed relatively close to the coast, not veering too far out into the ocean waters. First class passengers dined on linen-covered tables with fine, matching china. Uniformed servants attended to their every need as at the finest big city establishments.

Bands played, and gaming rooms presented a diversion for those inclined to take a chance. This all filled the top deck; those passengers’ lavish suites offered private balconies to enjoy the ocean breezes and magnificent water sunsets and rises.

Steerage, two decks down, could be as inexpensive as fifteen dollars while first class might set the traveler back over fifty. The floor in between cost less than first class and offered fewer amenities; leaving off most all of the elegant accommodations, the middle deck gave the business man and his wife—perhaps traveling with their children—a more affordable fare.

The next floor down, steerage, got no meals included with passage. They were purchased separately, and there could be as many as six packed into a single room. Of course, tickets didn’t cost as much as above, and the decks never mixed. Cheapest passage was on the lowest level, underwater—space in the boiler room or cargo hold as you could find it. This is where the ‘wooders’ rode.

On the Pacific side, from Panama City, my heroine boarded yet another steamship up to San Francisco with possible stops in Acapulco or San Diego before arriving in City by the Bay, depending on how much coal or firewood they carried on board. The bigger, newer ships routinely made the trip with no stops. This leg of the journey took fifteen days, making the trip from Texas to the golden shores a month to thirty-five days.

Travelers could opt to go cross county by stage and arrive in as few as twenty-two, but the ride proved rough and the warring tribe of Indians always posed a danger. Most thought nice accommodations and safety outweighed the time factor.

As Marcus Ford, my hero in AT LIBERTY TO LOVE discovered, one could work his way on a steamship serving as a wooder. Spending four hours of every twelve shoveling coal to feed the boiler was grueling, monotonous work. And dangerous, too, considering if the boiler did blow, those men were goners for sure. And shirkers could be summarily tossed overboard. The captain was king.
AT LIBERTY TO LOVE, book seven in the highly successful Texas Romance historical series, has just debuted May 27th and is now available in print or digital formats.

JACKET COPY: Obedience is better than sacrifice…and trumps romance, no matter how sweet.
   Profound loneliness propels a childless widow west with the idea of choosing an orphan to share her life. On the way, a fellow traveler takes her by surprise. She never dreams, is unprepared, doesn’t need another man, but can’t get him out of her head…or heart. He’s so perfect—every bit the one she’d searched for as a young woman—except his mistrust of God has erected a wall she cannot breach.
    Marcus Ford blames God and struggles for peace after losing his wife and baby. Not once has he considered another woman could be the answer, but the widow is like none other he’s ever met. He falls hard, but plans are taking him east. Hope dashed sends two hearts into the pit. If only Ford could forgive God or the widow ease up on her adamant resolve.
   Will God’s mercy shine a beacon in the fog of despair and prove sufficient to heal their souls?
   
EXCERPT: 
    Stepping off the last stair, she approached. He inhaled deeply then shook his head. “Oh my.” He drew in another long breath, closing his eyes. “You smell better than you look. I mean, you look outstanding, but your fragrance is even better. Not that you didn’t smell good before… I mean…” He finally just shrugged. “Your appearance shames me. I should have brought my dress blues.”
    She grinned. “I understand, but here.” She handed him her door key. “On my couch, you’ll some new threads…the least Henry Buckmeyer could do.”
    At first, he didn’t take it, then scooped it up like a kid in a candy store and took the stairs two at a time.
    “I’ll wait on the deck, just outside the dining room.”
    He waved one hand but didn’t look back.
    Might do the man a bit of good to have his pride pricked. She chuckled, so enjoying the highly pleasant distraction he afforded.
    Took the man longer than expected, but the wait worth it, the readymade suit fit perfect, she loved the shirt’s high collar and how it seemed to choke him.
He grinned then extended his arm. “Thank you.”
    She slipped her hand under then over his offering. “You’re welcome.” She glanced down. He’d shined his boots. Per chance that accounted for the extra time.

REVIEWS:  At Liberty To Love shows how God can speak through dreams, visions and small children. As God spoke in biblical times, so He can still speak that way today. There are some wonderful exchanges of dialogue with four year old Michael. Caryl McAdoo demonstrates the power of trust and faith. "Nothing was too hard for God" Who shows that He loves to step in and make the seemingly impossible, possible.  Another great offering from Caryl McAdoo.     --Julia Wilson, Worchester, England reader

I’ve followed Henry Buckmeyer and his family since the first book, "Vow Unbroken" and couldn't wait for this one. Could this be the true love the widow has never known before? At Liberty To Love as always, gives glory to God. All Caryl McAdoo’s stories are uplifting and truly enjoyable. I highly recommend this one and all of the stories in the Texas Romance series.     --Michelle Beach, Clinton, New York reader

With characters that charm, and scenes that tug at our heart strings, Caryl McAdoo keeps us reading well past our bedtimes. Mrs. McAdoo has woven yet another Texas tall tale to keep us flipping pages. The mistress of the Texas yarn, her Texas dialect tantalizes from start to finish. At Liberty to Love made this reviewer fall in love with fictional people who seem so real that they almost breathe. This character-driven, well-crafted novel is a keeper. I’m adding it to my collection of Texas Romances by Caryl McAdoo.     --Cassandra Wessel, Tionesta, Pennsylvania multi-published author of devotionals

TWEETS: (Help spread the word! :)
#NewRelease AT LIBERTY TO LOVE #ChristianFiction Family saga #HistoricalRomance http://amzn.to/1T1vcYL

AT LIBERTY TO LOVE #NewRelease 5-Star TX Romance bk 7 #ChristianFiction http://amzn.to/1T1vcYL

@CarylMcAdoo #NewRelease AT LIBERTY TO LOVE #ChristianFiction Family saga bk 6 http://amzn.to/1T1vcYL

Another PUZZLE !! Woo Hoo!

Bio: Caryl McAdoo is all about loving God! She currently writes four series: the historical Christian ‘Texas Romance’; a contemporary ‘Red River Romance’; The Generations, her Biblical fiction, and the newest Days of Dread Trilogy for mid-grade readers. Known as the Singing Pray-er, she loves praising with new songs the Lord gives her and prays her story gives God glory! In 2008, she and her high school sweetheart-husband Ron moved from the DFW area—home for fifty-plus years—to the woods of Red River County. Caryl counts four children and sixteen grandsugars life’s biggest blessings believing all good things come from God. Besides glorifying Him, she hopes each title will also minister His love, mercy, and grace to its readers. Caryl and Ron live in Clarksville, the county seat, in the far northeast corner of the Lone Star State with two grandsons.

LINKS:  All Books   At Liberty to Love    BookBub   Website    Newsletter Facebook    Blog    GoodReads   Google+   LinkedIn   Twitter   Pinterest   Hear me sing on  YouTube !!

Songs of Yesteryear

by Shanna Hatfield

I had such fun reading Kathryn Albright's post about cowboy music yesterday, I thought I'd continue down a musical road today.

From the time I was five until the end of my junior year of high school, my mother carted me into town once a week for a piano lesson.

Not a particularly eager student, I begrudgingly went each week mostly because it meant I'd get some sort of treat on the way home.

By the time I hit high school, I could play fairly well, although there were no hopes on my horizon for being the next great concert pianist. In fact, I much preferred to accompany members of the choir than perform solo.

One afternoon, while my mother perused summer-weight material for a new dress at the fabric shop in town, I wandered to the music store next door to browse through the latest sheet music arrivals.

As though I could hear the tinny rag-time music calling my name, a thick book of sheet music jumped out at me.

Favorite Songs of the Nineties (Dover Publications, Inc.) offered the complete original sheet music for 89 songs popular around the turn of the 20th century.

As I flipped through the array of fascinating tunes, I wondered why my music teacher had been holding back on me so long. Forget about Beethoven and Mozart — here was the music that sang to my heart.

The staggering price of the book (when you're fifteen and still on an allowance) did little to deter my enthusiasm. I had to have it. Scraping every bit of change from the bottom of my purse, I excitedly purchased the book.

Broke but determined, I went home and spent several hours that evening acquainting myself with songs such as After the Ball, The Bird on Nellie's Hat, In the Good Old Summertime, and Waltz me Around Again Willie.

Where had these wonderful songs been all my life? I probably drove my family nuts that summer, playing those old tunes over and over again until I had the notes and lyrics memorized. (At least I was practicing the piano of my own free will — a huge change from past summers in my childhood!)

I still have that book of sheet music and it has served me well as I write sweet historical romances set in the 1890s and 1900s.

It's fun to incorporate some of these songs that have become so familiar to me into the stories of characters who have become my friends.

In my new release Bertie, I included one of my favorite songs because the lyrics are so fun and flirty and fit so well into the story.

If you've never heard Coax Me, here's a peek at the opening lyrics:
"A night in June,
A lovely moon,
Beneath the trees two dusky lovers wooing,
He softly sighs,
She rolls her eyes..."

Some other tunes from the book of sheet music you might recognize include:

Bicycle Built for Two

I Love You Truly 

In My Merry Oldsmobile

Only a Bird in a Gilded Cage 

Sweet Rosie O'Grady

Ta-Ra-Ra Boom-De-Ay!

The Band Played On 

The Fountain in the Park

Waltz Me Around Again, Willie

While Strolling Through the Park One Day

 

~*~

USA Today Bestselling Author Shanna Hatfield writes character-driven romances with relatable heroes and heroines. Her historical westerns have been described as “reminiscent of the era captured by Bonanza and The Virginian” while her contemporary works have been called “laugh-out-loud funny, and a little heart-pumping sexy without being explicit in any way.”

Convinced everyone deserves a happy ending, this hopeless romantic  is out to make it happen, one story at a time. When she isn’t writing or indulging in chocolate (dark and decadent, please), Shanna hangs out with her husband, lovingly known as Captain Cavedweller.

 Find Shanna’s books at:

Amazon | Amazon UK | Barnes & Noble | Smashwords | Apple

 Shanna loves to hear from readers. Follow her online at:

ShannaHatfield | Facebook | Pinterest | Goodreads | You Tube | Twitter

Blog Tour Tuesday: KATIE - THE CATTLEMAN'S DAUGHTER

Today Blog Tour Tuesday features Danni Roan and her historical western romance, Katie - The Cattleman's Daughter. 

Book Description:

Katrion (Katie) James, the oldest daughter of the Broken J ranch has always

been the serious, responsible one. Can she finally let go and answer the call of her heart, or will her mother’s dying words forever bind her to a life without a love of her own?

Strong, independent and dedicated to her family Katie believes that life is all about responsibility. Working alongside her father to see that the ranch is successful she has all but forgotten she is a woman.

Wilson Robertson is down on his luck and tired of dusting the trails. Pushing thirty he longs for a piece of land of his own; a home. But when he meets the cattleman’s daughter, his dreams could be lost for good

Can two people determined to live up to their responsibilities learn that there is more to caring and loving than simple doing the right thing? Find out in this sweet historical western romance.

Prologue:

Kansas City Kansas, June, 1880

Will Robertson was down at the heel and down on his luck.  He’d finished his turn at driving a big herd up from Texas just to have the foreman cheat the hands out of half their pay. He was fed up, angry, and tired of working his tail off for another man.  There had to be something better.  He looked out across the bustling dusty streets of Kansas City and sighed.  At least he had a few dollars, his horse and rig, he thought looking at the red roan pony at the hitching rail before him.   But how was that going to help him now, cow hands were a dime a dozen on the streets of this town and he’d be hanged before he went back to Texas with the crew he’d come up with.  He had to face it there was nothing for him, he didn’t want to sign on for another trail drive, and he wasn’t cut out for city life.  He’d just have to see if he could find work and soon, or he’d be plumb broke.  He looked at his faded jeans, then dusted them off as best he could with his tattered hat and headed to the mercantile across the street.  Maybe someone had posted a job there.

On the other side of the street a large sign hanging above the false fronted square building read ‘James’ General Mercantile’. Perhaps the owner would know of a place he could get a meal cheap and maybe find a job. A tiny bell tinkled above the door, announcing his arrival as he stepped into the store.  The smell of leather, burlap, and spices assailed his senses and he stood a moment letting his eyes adjust to the dimmer light of the interior.  At first it didn’t appear that anyone was minding the store, and he took the time to scan the shelves and display tables filling the space. Barrels, crates, and burlap sacks lined the front wall under a bright display window. Small square tables were stacked with denim trousers, a variety of shirts, and even boots or a display of small and larger farm implements. Brightly colored tins, jars and bottles fill shelves on the other two walls.   

Suddenly a slim, middle aged woman popped up from behind the tall counter near the rear of the establishment.  She must have been reaching for something on the bottom of the floor to ceiling height shelves arrayed along the back wall.  “Well hello there.” She said cheerfully. “What can I get for ya?” 

Her bright smile was contagious and he couldn’t help but smile back, as he crossed the well-stocked room in a few strides. “Mornin’ ma’am, I’m wonderin’ if you know of a cheap place to get some grub, and maybe if there’s any work around.”

“Come a little closer.” She called waving her hand at him impatiently “So I can get a look at ya.” 

He then stepped up to the long wooden counter and for just a moment he felt like prize bull at auction as her sharp blue eyes assessed him.  

“Cowpuncher, are ya?” she asked, almost to herself as she studied him. 

“Yes ma’am.” He replied quietly twisting his tattered Stetson in his hands.  

 “Jeremiah”. She then bellowed over her shoulder making Will jump. “Don’t you worry son, my husband will know just what to do with you.”

“What are you hollerin’ about now woman?” A man’s voice boomed as heavy foot falls crashed down a set of stairs at the back of the building.

“We got a fella needin’ work.” She yelled back with a twinkle in her eye.

“Oh, we do, do we?” The voice replied inquisitively just as a tall square man stepped out of the doorway behind her and grinned. For a moment Will Robinson considered bolting as the man looked at him with a predatory gleem in his eyes. “Well, young man. What kinda work are you looking for?” the older man asked with a smile.

“Ranch work of course, sir.” Will replied feeling like he couldn’t quite get his bearings even if he had both feet firmly planted on the plank floor. 

“That’s grand, just grand.” The big man boomed and chuckling, threw and arm around his shoulders. “Now why don’t you come on upstairs and we’ll have a cup of coffee, you can tell me all about yourself. I think I know just the job for you.”

Wyoming Territory July, 1888.

Joshua James stepped out on to the front porch of the ranch house a big grin splitting his grizzled face. With one hand he tucked an envelope into his breast pocket then patted it before placing his wide brimmed hat on his head of snowy white hair.  For a long moment he gazed around him at the home he’d build.  The large barn, the workshop, even the bunk house and chicken coop.  He breathed deeply of the early morning air. Then patted the letter again.  It had been a long time since he’d heard from his brother Jeremiah.  He’d almost thought he might never get the answer he’d been waiting for, but now… He smiled again. 

“Morning boss.” A hand said as he walked Joshua’s horse to him. 

“It sure is.” The old man replied and taking the reins, swung up on his buckskin gelding and started whistling as he turned toward the open prairie.  Stopping his horse for the third time on the short ride he pulled his brother’s letter from his breast pocket and read it once more.

Dear Joshua,                                                                           June 12, 1880

I believe I’ve found just what you have been looking for.  It should be arriving in about a months’ time hopefully still in good shape. Mabelle helped with the picking and assures me that the packaging is just right; made to order. We had quite a time procuring such an item for you. The mercantile is busier than ever but not all items are of the same standard and the choosing had to be done with care.

We are all well here in Kansas. Have you had any word from Brother Jonas?  I’m sure he is working equally hard at providing you with what you need. Do be patient brother as times are hard everywhere.  Mabelle sends her love to you and the family.

Your Loving Brother,

Jeremiah.

Joshua tucked the letter back in his breast pocket once more, with a smile and a chuckle then started whistling again. 

You may purchase The Cattleman's Daughter  by clicking HERE.

Author Biography

Danni Roan, born in rural western Pennsylvania, has always loved the country life. Her first work published under her real name, Paula Liddle-Beem, is a collection of folk essays about childhood in the lush, green mountains of PA. Being a teacher of English and English as a Second Language for the past twelve years has only inspired Danni's love of writing Western Historical Fiction. After receiving her Masters of Education in Teaching English as a Foreign Language she determined to indulge her passion for fiction writing. Teaching both in the USA and abroad has exposed Danni to a wide range of people from all walks of life and she tries to capture that unique character in her work.

Click HERE to reach the Author's Amazon Author Page.