Page 14 of A Whiskey River Princess

As he watched her sleep, he knew she obviously wasn’t from Whiskey River, and they were too far from Laramie for her to have gotten lost, especially in a blizzard.

Dirk dozed off watching her sleep, speculating on how she came to be in the middle of a snowstorm… alone.

Someone was slamming things around in the kitchen. Dirk’s eyes snapped open. Then memories flooded his mind—Buster barking at the door… the woman on his porch… bringing her in to warm up by the fire….

Dirk jumped up from the rocking chair and followed the noise. In the kitchen stood the young woman, dirty, in need of a bath, and her hair was disheveled and falling around her face. She was looking at the stove, as if trying to figure out how it worked. When she saw Dirk, she turned and moved away with her back to the counter, her eyes wide with fear.

Dirk held up his hands, not wanting to startle her. “Miss, my name is Dirk Price, and I own this house. You were on my porch last night, and I brought you in to warm up.” He took a step closer, but she moved away, keeping her distance. “Why don’t we sit down and talk?” He took another step toward her. “I won’t hurt you. I promise. You’re safe.”

The woman must have trusted him, because she nodded, but made no move to sit down. “Monsieur,thank you for caring for me,” she replied in a French accent, raising her chin. “But now you must take me to the train station in Laramie.”

Dirk shook his head. “Sorry, but I can’t do that. The—”

“You can’t keep me here!” She cut him off, stamping her foot, reminding Dirk of a spoiled child. “I demand that you take me back at once!”

Dirk bit his lower lip to keep from smiling. She was like a kitten throwing a hissy fit with her claws out, but completely harmless. “I was about to say that I can’t take you because the pass is closed. In case you don’t know, a blizzard just passed through here—”

“I know a blizzard passed through! I was in it!” the woman challenged as she stood in the kitchen, watching him. “And where is thetoilette?”

A crease formed between his eyes, and then one corner of his lips curled into a smile. “You mean the outhouse?”

“Outhouse?” she asked in disbelief.

A smile lit his lips, enjoying her discomfort a bit too much. “It’s out back.” He pointed toward the back door.

She huffed as she marched out. He waited and a few moments later, she came back in. “That little building is the…toilette?”

Dirk nodded. “Yes, of course it is. But here in America, it’s called the outhouse. What have you been using all your life?”

Gabriella let out a deep breath. “Thetoiletteflushes to keep the smell down. That out there….” She flailed her arm toward the back door. “Is… well… I don’t know what it is, but I’m not using it.”

“Suit yourself.” Dirk laughed. “But if you want to survive in the West, you’d better rethink that.”

Gabriella glared at him for a moment and then stormed back out again. A few minutes later, she walked back in and stood before him.

“Feel better?”

She let out a deep breath. “Yes, thank you.”

For a moment, she looked vulnerable and completely alone. It was obvious to Dirk that the young woman had been through some sort of ordeal. “Look. We can talk about what happened to you and why you were out in that storm in a bit, but why don’t you go freshen up while I make us some breakfast?”

She stood there for a moment and then pulled the coat around herself. She started to march off but stopped short in the living room. “Which way?”

Dirk suppressed a smile as he pointed toward his bedroom. There was a washstand there with fresh water. “You can freshen up in there. I’ll get the spare room ready in a bit.”

She narrowed her eyes. “That isyourbedroom?”

He nodded.

“Well, don’t try anything! I’m warning you!” She pointed her finger at him, her hair a disheveled mess, dirt covering her face.

He held his hands up again and laughed. “Oh, miss! Believe me, I wouldn’t dream of it!”

“Hmph!” the young woman looked down at herself, and then stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door behind her.

“And you need to work on your manners, miss,” Dirk mumbled as he retrieved a slab of bacon from the cellar, along with some fresh eggs.

In the kitchen, he put some coffee on to boil. Then he set a heavy cast iron skillet on the stove and lit it. Before long, the scent of bacon frying filled the cabin, causing his stomach to grumble.

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