Page 12 of A Whiskey River Princess

He let out a deep breath, took out a long knife, and shoved her into a small closet. “You try anything at all and you’re dead!” In one fluid motion, he cut the rope around her wrists and slammed the door closed. In the tiny closet, she couldn’t see a thing, but quickly fumbled around, looking for something, anything that she could use as a weapon.

“Hurry up or I’m coming in there after you,” Blake growled from the other side.

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Oh yes I would.”

She let out a huff and slipped off her dress, leaving on her corset, but checked to make sure her money was still there. If those morons found out that she had as much money as she did, they’d probably take the money, kill her, and forget about the ransom. Satisfied, she slipped quickly into the jeans, which were two sizes too big, and buttoned up the oversized flannel shirt.

When she came out, Blake looked at her and wrapped the coat around her. He shoved the cowboy hat on her head and pulled it down over her eyes. “Now, that’s better,” he announced, and then looked down at her shoes. “We can’t do anything about those right now, but it’ll do.” He grabbed her wrists and quicklytied them up again, tighter this time, pain shooting from her wrists and up her arms.

A moment later, he pulled her out of the house to where Clayton and Harley were waiting with four horses already packed and ready to go.

“You’re giving her a horse?” Blake scoffed.

“Well, you have her tied up.” Harley motioned toward her hands. “If we take the reins, how far do you think she’ll get if she gets loose?”

Blake let out a deep breath. “You’re unbelievable.” Then, he turned to Gabriella and pointed at her. “If you try anything, anything at all, I’ll kill you myself.”

“If you kill me,” she glared, her eyes unwavering, “then you won’t get any money.”

“Shut up and get on that horse!”

She paused for a moment, trying to figure out how she was going to ride. Back home, she had ridden sidesaddle, which was entirely different.

“Hells bells! You are one helpless woman.” He picked her up and shoved her onto the horse, one leg on each side. He took her reins, and then mounted another horse with a bedroll strapped to the back of the saddle. She held onto the saddle horn and pulled her knees in tightly so as not to fall off.

They walked for what seemed like hours through the snowstorm, which was getting worse. Gabriella shivered from the cold as they plodded on when they came to what looked like a hunter’s lean-to against a tree in the woods. Only two sides of the structure were covered, leaving the other two sides exposed.

“Blake?” Clayton drawled. “Don’t you think it’s time to stop?”

He let out a deep breath as he took in the lean-to. “Yeah. I guess we’re far enough away.” He pointed to a small clearing inthe middle of a circle of trees. “This is as good a place as any. Let’s set up camp.”

“Well, it’s about time!” Clayton dismounted his horse. “I’m tired from the train ride, and my ass is hurting from riding.”

Harley grabbed him by the collar. “Well, if you two hadn’t had the bright idea to kidnap her—”

A shot rang out from the other side of Gabriella, claiming the two men’s attention. Gabriella turned around, and Blake’s gun was smoking. “That’s enough! What’s done is done. Let’s just get through this.”

Within minutes, they had laid out the bedrolls in the lean-to and started a fire. Soon, coffee was brewing sending the tannin scent through the air. Gabriella scooted to the base of a tree as far away from the men as she could manage, shivering in the cold as they warmed themselves by the fire.

“I say let’s take the ransom and then kill her.” Clayton took a swig of his coffee.

“Now, you want us to be murderers?” Harley’s voice lifted several octaves as he poured more coffee into his cup. “First, you idiots get the idea to kidnap her. Now, you want to kill her?”

“Shut up!” Blake growled, pointing his gun at him. “It wasn’t our idea. It was Pop’s… and he died for it.”

Harley held out his arms. “So, you’re going to kill me now?”

“If I have to.” Blake pulled back the hammer on his six-gun revolver, taking aim.

“You’d kill your own brother.” Harley shook his head. “Well, if that don’t beat all.”

Blake pointed the gun at his brother for a moment, and then released the hammer and slid the gun back in its holster. “Don’t say a word about this idea anymore. Pop’s dead, and we can’t even bury him. It was his idea, and out of respect for him, we’re going through with it.”

Clayton stretched out on a bedroll and fluffed his pillow, ignoring the others as he rolled over onto his side. He was snoring within minutes.

“Well, it looks like you have the first watch,” Harley announced as he slid down into his bedroll and turned over before his brother could object.

---