Page 74 of A Whiskey River Princess

Blake held up his hands. “Mister, you don’t have to die today. We’re only here for some provisions.”

“Then wait until tomorrow and buy it proper, like a real man.” Mr. Carson’s eyes never wavered as he cocked his rifle, ready.

“We are real men.” Blake lunged forward and knocked Mr. Carson to the ground, but then a shot rang out behind them, causing plaster to fall from the ceiling.

Gabriella looked over and Mrs. Carson had a rifle pointed at the men. She cocked it expertly and pointed it at Blake. “As my husband said, leave, or the next one’s going in your gut.”

Blake laughed. “Well, well. Just what I like. A brave woman.”

Mr. Carson hurried to his feet and picked up his gun. “Now, throw down your weapons over here and get out.”

Gabriella knew she had to do something. She quickly turned the horse around toward the restaurant and kicked its sides. “Help! Millie! Someone!” Gabriella shouted as loudly as she could, headed toward the restaurant.

But Clayton caught up with her, pointed his gun at her head, and pulled back the hammer. “Stop right there and shut your mouth! That is, unless you want to die.”

Gabriella stopped and looked over at the restaurant one last time. Millie stared at her through the window and ran to the back.

“Let’s go!” Blake mounted his horse, and Clayton and Harley did the same, carrying as much as they could. He looked over at Gabriella. “Now!” She leaned forward and kicked her horse with her heels, urging her into a run to keep up with them.

As they passed, Millie stepped out of the restaurant with a shot gun. “Stop right there!” she ordered and then shot at them. Blake shot back at her, but she quickly ducked behind a wooden barrel sitting in front of the restaurant.

Gabriella glanced over at Millie as the sun began to rise, hoping beyond all hope that she would get word to Dirk.

Chapter 15

Dirk

Faint rays of morning sunlight streamed in through the window, waking Dirk. He yawned as he stretched, trying to orient himself. Then the events of the night before came rushing back. He opened his eyes wide and sat straight up. He had been about to tell Gabriella that he loved her, but she had stopped him. Dirk fell back onto his double bed and pulled the other pillow over his face, feeling like an idiot. Why had he reacted that way when she stopped him from saying it out loud?

Ego.

Now, he just hoped everything was back to normal and that he hadn’t scared her off. The air was brisk, and he realized that the fire had died. Usually, he was the one who placed a log on the fire in the morning while Gabriella made the coffee. Then he and Gabby made breakfast together. After they ate, he would go out and tend the farm while she cleaned up.

Remembering it was Christmas morning, Dirk jumped out of bed, hurried to get dressed, and then headed into the living room. He placed a log and kindling in the fireplace and lit it. Within minutes, a fire blazed orange, red, and yellow, sending warmth throughout the room.

“Gabby?” he called out. He didn’t smell coffee brewing, as he had become accustomed to since she came to stay with him.

He walked into the kitchen, and nothing was out of place. The coffee wasn’t brewing… and the house felt too… empty.

Flashes of when Sarah left filled his mind, but he pushed the thought aside, willing himself not to panic. He walked slowly through the house to her bedroom and listened just outside her door.

Nothing.

His heart sank.

Dirk slowly raised his hand and knocked on the door.

Nothing.

As quietly as he could, he opened the squeaking door.

Then he flung it open wide. Her bed was unmade, and her nightgown was thrown into the closet. Cool air rushed into the room. His vision became distorted as he looked over at the window and saw that it was open.

“No!” Dirk fell to his knees and buried his face into his balled-up hands. It was Sarah all over again. Then, he came to his senses. They had come back for her… the Dougherty Boys had come for her. He remembered waking to Buster barking in the night, and now it all made sense. Buster had heard them taking her. But why hadn’t she told him when he came to check on her? Unless she had been protecting him.

As tears ran down his face, he remembered the times he and Gabby had together—teaching her to make biscuits and how to cook, sharing their love of books, stringing popcorn, and then last night, watching her eyes well up with tears when she opened the gift he gave her.

As quickly as he could, he slammed the window shut and hurried to get dressed. He strapped on his gun belt and loaded his rifle. At that moment, he knew he loved her, and always would. No matter what happened now she would forever be engraved in his heart. As he walked purposefully out the door, he vowed to find her. God help the Dougherty Boys if they took her.

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