Page 16 of A Whiskey River Princess

He nodded. “Come here and I’ll teach you.” Dirk continued his lesson on how to make biscuits. “Now, be sure not to handle the dough too much or the biscuits will be hard as a rock. You do it like this….” He spread the dough out onto the floured table and used a rolling pin to roll it out. “Then, you flour a glass like this,” he said as he dipped a glass into the flour, “and you cut out the biscuits like so.” He handed her the glass. “Here. I’ll let you do the rest while I cook the eggs. By the way, how do you like your eggs cooked?”

“Poached.”

“Okay.” Dirk rolled his eyes. “Hard boiled it is.”

She rolled her eyes but seemed to be enjoying herself as she cut out the biscuits, awkwardly at first, but then before long, she had the hang of it and was cutting them out with ease. “Now what do I do?”

He handed her a pan and poured some melted lard onto it. “Just dip the biscuit into the oil and flip it over like so,” he instructed as he demonstrated.

Soon, she became engrossed in dipping the raw biscuit dough into the melted lard and turning them over.

“Why are you here?” he asked casually as he wiped his hands on a dishtowel.

She continued working, not looking at him.

“Tell me, why were you out in the blizzard here in Whiskey River instead of in Laramie?” He took the pan of biscuits and popped them into the oven, waiting for her answer.

She bit her lip, saying nothing.

He let out a deep breath. “Well, if you don’t tell me, then I can’t help you.” Dirk cracked some eggs into a bowl and placed others on to boil. “In the meantime, let’s have some breakfast. There’s nothing that can’t be cured with a good breakfast. I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”

She nodded, and then relaxed a bit as she washed her hands. He handed her the dishtowel, and she dried them off.

“What’s your name?” Dirk asked casually.

She let out a deep breath but said nothing.

He turned to look at her. “At least tell me that. It’s not going to kill you.” He continued his work so as not to make her feel uncomfortable. “I’m not going to bite. Although I haven’t had breakfast yet, I’m not that hungry.”

She laughed at his joke, and seemed to relax a bit as she handed him the tray. “My name is Gabriella.”

He nodded, giving her a crooked smile. “Well, Gabriella, I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“The pleasure is mine.”

He poured a cup of coffee and handed it to her. “Here.” Then he handed her the plate of bacon. “Go ahead and set this on the table. Also, there’s a clean rag over there if you’d like to clean up the flour first.”

She let out a deep breath but didn’t move.

“You don’t work, you don’t—”

“Eat,” she finished as she squared her shoulders and walked over to the sink. “Where’s the water?”

Dirk laughed. “You pump it, like this.” He primed the pump and within seconds, fresh water poured from the spigot. “I’m glad it didn’t freeze overnight.”

“Why didn’t it?” she asked, intrigued.

He shrugged. “As long as you pump the water occasionally, it’ll keep it from freezing.”

“I’ve never seen anything quite like this before,” Gabriella mused, watching the water flow from the pump in amazement.

Dirk grinned proudly. “I installed it last year. Before that, I had to go outside to bring in the water from the river every morning.” He thought for a moment, and then asked, “Is that what you do?” Who knew? Maybe he was wrong about her, and she couldn’t afford an indoor pump.

Gabriella shook her head. “No, it’s just that I’ve never seen this before.”

“Didn’t you ever go into the kitchen at your house?” Dirk asked in amazement.

She let out a deep breath. “Rarely.”

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