Page 45 of A Whiskey River Princess

“If they’re back, don’t open the door.” Gabriella’s voice was merely a whisper.

He looked into her eyes. “Don’t worry. I don’t intend to. I’ll be right back.”

He walked into the living room, took his rifle down from its perch on the wall, cocked it, and headed toward the door. Gabriella picked up a butcher knife and listened.

“Daxton! Happy Thanksgiving!” Dirk chimed in recognition.

When Gabriella put away the butcher knife and walked around the corner, Daxton was standing in the doorway.

“You’re a bit early, but come on in.” He stood back to let Daxton in. “We just put the turkey in the oven… where are the kids?”

Daxton let out a deep breath. “I just got a lead on the Dougherty Boys. Colton can’t come with me, so I was wondering if you would. Ellis and a few other men from town are going, too, but the more guns we have, the better.”

Dirk nodded. “Yes, of course. I’ll be out in a minute.” He turned around and looked in Gabriella’s eyes. “I’m so sorry to have to leave you now, but I have no choice. Lock the door and don’t let anyone in.”

Gabriella nodded, knowing that catching the men who had kidnapped her was the top priority. “Be careful out there.”

He nodded as he slid into his coat and hat. “I will.” Then he headed out the door as she followed. Outside, several armed men were on horseback, waiting. Dirk looked up at her, his eyes filled with concern. “Lock the door.”

Gabriella smiled and did as he asked. When she headed into the kitchen, she placed her hands on her hips and sighed. “Well, I’d better get started making everything else if we’re going to eat on time.”

She got out Dirk’s mother’s cookbook and tried to follow the recipes, but they soon became Greek to her. She put the cookbook aside, deciding to just do the best she could. She peeled the carrots, but had peeled away most of each carrot, leaving skinny sticks. She knew they didn’t look right, but they would have to do. She poured some water and sugar over them and placed them on the stove to boil. Next, she washed the green beans, broke them, and placed them on the stove beside the carrots. She continued working her way through the vegetables that Dirk had set on the counter, but soon she ran out of room on the stove.

While she waited, Gabriella headed over to the window at the back door and looked outside. The snow was falling harder than it had been before Dirk left. As each hour passed, she became more worried about Dirk. She just hoped that nothing had happened to him.

As night began to fall, smoke started rolling out of the oven. “The turkey!” She quickly pulled the oven door open and black smoke rolled into the kitchen, so thick that she could hardly see the vegetables cooking away on the stove.

Gasping for air, she flung open the back door and walked outside, coughing and hacking.

After she caught her breath, she ran inside and reached for the ceramic Dutch oven. “Ow!” In her haste, she had forgotten to slip on the oven mitts. She looked down at her throbbing hands and they were already turning red.

As quickly as she could manage, she placed a dishtowel hanging nearby on the counter, slid on the oven mitts, and lifted the heavy turkey out of the oven and plopped it onto the counter.

Gabriella coughed as black smoked rolled off it.

She turned her attention to the vegetables. The potatoes were mush, the cranberries were cranberry soup, the carrotswere burned, and the turkey and stuffing were charcoal. Nothing… not one thing… had turned out right.

She was busy pulling everything off the stove when a man’s strong arms wrapped around her shoulders.

Gabriella let out a blood-curdling scream, but collapsed into sobs when she saw that it was Dirk. “I tried, Dirk! I really tried, but everything is ruined! The sooner I go back home, the better!”

“Shh,” he cooed, stroking her hair. “It was my fault. I thought I’d only be gone for a little while, but it took a lot longer than we thought.”

Daxton cleared his throat behind them. “I’ll just be going. The kids and I can eat at the restaurant.”

When she realized they weren’t alone, Gabriella hurried to dab at her eyes with the end of the apron she was wearing. “I’m so sorry, sheriff—”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” he cut her off. “It is I who should apologize. I’m sorry I kept Dirk away for so long.”

Gabriella shook her head. “No, I should have—”

“Mrs. Jenkins is a local woman who loves helping the new brides… er… young ladies… who come into town.” Daxton’s voice was soothing and soft. “I can ask her to stop by sometime, if you like. Maybe she could teach you a few things?”

Gabriella laughed through her tears. “I think she’ll need to teach me more than just a few things.”

Daxton bit his lower lip, obviously trying not to smile. “Dirk, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He nodded toward Gabriella. “Ma’am.”

She smiled through her tears. “Thank you, sheriff.”

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