NOVEMBER 4, 1861

"Teaspoon, Teaspoon," Lou called out as she ran over to the jailhouse. Before she could make it inside, Teaspoon stood blocking the doorway.

"What is it, Lou?" A fleeting thought of trouble ran through Teaspoon's mind, but he couldn't see any ruckus from where he stood.

"Judge Wereton is coming." Lou stated, and Teaspoon watched as the stagecoach rolled into town and stopped.

“Well then let’s go greet him.” Teaspoon headed over to the stagecoach that had now stopped in front of the hotel with Lou followed him. As the circuit judge, Chamer Wereton, stepped down from the stagecoach, Teaspoon said, “Good afternoon Judge Wereton.”

The circuit judge looked Teaspoon up and down while noticing that he wore the sheriff’s badge. He smiled, “You must be the legendary Teaspoon Hunter, ex-Texas ranger.”

Teaspoon grinned. “It seems that both of our names precedes us.”

“Please to make your acquaintance Mr. Hunter.” Chamer said and then turned around to grab his bags that the driver was handing down to him.

“Likewise Judge Wereton,” Teaspoon replied.

Chamer walked up the steps, “I hear that you have some men in jail waiting for sentencing, and also you have some children who need to be adopted,” and he entered the hotel.

“That is correct, judge.” Teaspoon followed him inside. “Jennie this is Judge Wereton. Judge this is Miss Jennie McSwain.”

Jennie put down her ink pen and stood up. “Please to meet you Judge Wereton.”

“And I you, young lady.” He gave her a beaming smile. “May I have a room?”

“Oh yes, you may,” she turned the book around towards him to register.

Always very aware of his surroundings, the judge noticed the papers on the desk. “Are you a writer Miss McSwain?”

She was taken by surprise, but it was a pleasant surprise that the judge was so perceptive and interested in her. “Yes Judge Wereton, I write novels and send them back east to be published.”

“Please call me Chamer,” he watched as she nodded and blushed. He noticed her staring at him, and he decided that he would have to speak up or she might stay like she was, a statue forever. “Ummm, Miss McSwain may I have my key now.

“Oh, Oh Yes, here you are,” she handed him his room key.

He turned to walk up the stairs but then stopped. “Sheriff Hunter as soon as I get settled in I’ll be over to speak with you. Oh and Miss McSwain would you do me the honor of having supper with me this evening. I hate eating alone, and I’d like to hear some more about your novels.”

“Well . . . ummm . . . well, I’d like that.” Jennie answered. This was a golden opportunity for her. She could interview him for the newspaper and who knows maybe he could even be a character in her new novel she was writing.

“Then I’ll meet you here at exactly six o’clock, alright?” Chamer looked back down at Jennie for her response and after watching her nod her head, he continued on up to his room.