Page 73 of A Whiskey River Princess

“How did you know that?” Gabriella asked, amazed.

“We’ve been hanging around the area, waiting for an opportunity to grab you,” Clayton replied matter-of-factly.

“Shut the hell up!” Blake rolled his eyes. “We have to hurry. I want to be in Laramie before the snow starts coming down again. We need to send her people a telegram.”

“The pass is closed, and we’ll freeze to death before we get there,” Gabriella said in a sing-song voice.

“Shut up!” Harley threw over at her. “If we go through the woods, we won’t need the pass.”

“She’s right. We can’t make it all the way to Laramie today. We’ll freeze to death,” Harley reasoned. Suddenly, the snow started coming down again, emphasizing his point. “No, we need to get some supplies and hole up somewhere until we can get the money.”

Gabriella laughed. “Oh, no! I’m not staying with you idiots for that long! You’re crazy!”

“Shut up!” Blake reached for his gun.

“Go ahead and shoot me! I’d rather die than stay with the likes of you.” Then, she thought she’d take another approach.

Clayton looked at her, his eyebrows raised.

As the horses plodded along toward Whiskey River, the snow started falling harder. Gabriella just hoped that Dirk would come looking for her.

As they neared Whiskey River and she listened to the three idiots making their plans, she wondered if she would ever see Dirk again. Would she ever have the chance to tell him how she felt? She had always heard that a wish made on Christmas would come true. If it was true, she silently wished that she could see Dirk one more time, so she could tell him that she loved him.

Gabriella followed Blake, with Clayton and Harley behind. As they walked slowly into town, her eyes darted around for someone, anyone, that she might know. She searched Dirk’s livery stable, but no one was there. When they passed, the rest ofthe town was deserted, too. All the businesses were closed, even the saloon.

“A saloon!” Clayton yelped as he jumped off his horse in one swoop. “I knew they didn’t call this Whiskey River for nothing!” He ran across the pristine snow and jumped onto the wooden porch, almost slipping on the ice, but quickly recovered himself. Then he grabbed the door handle and shook it, but it was locked. “What the hell is this, anyway? Usually, the saloon’s never closed!”

“It’s Christmas Day,” Gabriella observed. “Maybe the owner is home celebrating the holiday.”

“Shut up, bitch!” he barked, doubling his fists.

Gabriella just stared him down, her eyes never wavering, hoping that he would make enough noise to attract attention.

“Clayton, shut up and get back on your horse,” Blake stage whispered, looking around. “We need food more than we need whiskey, and it’ll be sunrise soon. Come on.” He looked up and spotted the Whiskey River General Store. “Now, that’s more like it.”

With Gabriella between them, they all walked slowly toward the store. While the men were distracted, Gabriella’s eyes darted around, looking for Daxton or Colton, but they were probably still in bed. She looked toward the right. The hotel and restaurant were closed. When she looked in through the windows, her heart jumped within her chest, for Millie was taking a chair down off a table, obviously getting ready to start the day.

Gabriella’s breath caught, and she was ready to jump the horse through the restaurant window or cause some sort of distraction, but then she felt the cold steel of a gun against her back.

“Don’t even think about it,” Blake growled through gritted teeth.

Gabriella’s heart sank. If she could only get Millie’s attention….

Harley jumped off his horse when they stopped in front of the general store but was more cautious than Clayton had been. He looked around. Seeing nothing, he walked slowly up to the door. It was dark. No one was inside.

He tried the door, but it just rattled, locked.

Harley used the butt of his gun and broke one of the small windowpanes, reached in, and within a few seconds, the door was open.

“Hold it right there.” A balding older man, dressed in a robe, was pointing a rifle at Harley. Gabriella was relieved to see that it was Mr. Carson. He pulled back the hammer of his rifle, and it clicked into place, ready. “Now, I suggest you leave before you wind up dead.”

Harley laughed as if it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “There’s three of us and only one of you. You really think you can take us all?”

The shopkeeper shrugged. “I have six bullets and only three of you, so I’d say that’s pretty good odds.”

“You really want to die, mister?” Blake asked, and then took a step toward the store, but Mr. Carson shot near his head in warning.

“I missed on purpose… that time. I won’t miss again.”

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