Page 6 of A Whiskey River Princess

“I’m sorry. That was rude. I shouldn’t have—”

“No, I don’t mind at all.” Kenzie set down her champagne. “Well, Charles Whitfield paid my expenses, and I also paint portraits on the side. So, if you’re ever in need….”

“I will let you know.” Gabriella smiled as she reached over and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Miss Baker, it was good to make your acquaintance. But I’d better get back to my cabin.”

“Please, call me Kenzie,” she insisted as she took one last sip of her champagne. “I think I’d better head back to my cabin, too, and loosen my corset before it explodes!”

Gabriella laughed at the image. “Thank you for the stimulating company. Will I see you tomorrow?”

Kenzie smiled. “If you aren’t too bored with me yet.”

“Never.” Gabriella giggled as she placed her napkin on her plate and rose from her seat. “Tomorrow, then.Bonne nuit.”

Kenzie rose from the table and gave her a quick hug. “It was very nice to meet you.”

Gabriella gasped at Kenzie’s directness but returned the hug. As a Royal, no one would dare hug her unless they were family. But she could see that there was much to learn in this brand new world.

After saying her last goodbyes, Gabriella headed to her cabin and locked the door. The curtains were still wide open, revealing the darkness of the night. But both bench seats had been converted into berths.

After pulling the curtains closed, Gabriella sat on the edge of the bed, and took off her high-topped shoes and stockings as a yawn escaped her. She was so tired that she almost just fellback on the pillow but decided against it. She slipped out of her dress, but left on her corset, knowing there was no way she could get back into it without help. Then she slipped into her sleeping gown and fell asleep within minutes after climbing under the blankets, dreaming of the west and the adventures she might encounter when she arrives.

Chapter 2

Dirk

Whiskey River, Wyoming

“Here you go, Wyatt!” Dirk Price handed Wyatt Nash the reins of his horse, Midnight. Dirk kept the horse at his livery stable for him while he managed the local saloon. “I hope the weather holds out long enough for you to get home.”

“Thanks, Dirk.” Wyatt took the reins and led his horse out of the barn and into the snow that was blowing around like bits of cotton, creating a blanket of white along the ground. “Don’t stay too late, now.”

Dirk chuckled appreciatively. “I’m leaving soon. There’s only a few more horses left.” As the owner of the only livery stable in town, Dirk always felt obligated to stay until the last horse was picked up for the night, when he was in town. He had hired a young man, Billy Griffin, to run it for him when he wasn’t there. Billy was only seventeen and eager to prove himself. But tonight, he had given Billy the night off, not wanting to leave him here in a blizzard. Dirk also owned a ranch, which consumed most of his time, and he couldn’t be caught away from it for an extended period of time.

Wyatt nodded as he mounted his horse, holding perfectly still. Sometimes Dirk wondered what the horse would say if he could talk. His eyes seemed so intelligent, and it was obvious that he loved Wyatt.

“Thanks, again. How much do I owe you?”

Dirk pulled the collar of his coat up around his neck, looking up at Wyatt, silhouetted against the falling snow. “We’ll settle up Friday, like always.”

Wyatt smiled. “Sounds good. Well, I’d better get home to the missus.”

Dirk chuckled and watched as Wyatt rode away. It was good to hear Wyatt refer to Madison as his “missus.” After the trouble Madison had with Pete McGregor, Dirk hadn’t been sure she would ever find peace. But when Wyatt came into town, everything changed.

It was common knowledge that Wyatt had been a gambler before coming to Whiskey River. Now, he owned the saloon, gave up gambling, and married Madison. Dirk had asked him about it once, and Wyatt had shrugged and told him that meeting the right woman had changed his life.

Dirk imagined that meeting the right person could put a man’s life back on track, but his had been derailed for so long it was a lost cause. After all, he had met all the women in Whiskey River—and many in Laramie, too—and none had caught his eye. He hadn’t fallen in love in a long time.

For a fleeting moment, Dirk wondered if that would ever happen to him—see the woman of his dreams and fall instantly in love. He chuckled at the thought as he ran his fingers through his light brown wavy hair.

When evening fell and the last few men had picked up their horses, Dirk battened down the hatches. This storm was sure to be a howler.

In Wyoming, there were a lot of snowstorms. In fact, the landscape had turned into a blanket of white every year. But although it was beautiful to look at, it was unbearably cold, and Dirk sure didn’t want to get caught out in it.

Before going home, Dirk went to the hotel for dinner. The Whiskey River Hotel had the only restaurant in town. Since his wife had left him a few years ago, Dirk ate almost every meal there. After all, who was there to cook for? And since Sarah had left, no one but his dog, Buster, was there to greet him when he came home. It was just him, Buster, the cattle and horses, and his sprawling ranch.

Dirk pulled his hat down low, and his coat up around his neck. In winter, he grew his hair out a bit, letting his light brown waves cover his neck to shield him from the wind and snow blowing fiercely around. It did little to help.

A moment later, his boots thudded loudly against the wooden walkway as he headed toward the Whiskey River Hotel and Restaurant to the right just down from his livery stable. The covered footpaths on the right and left of the main street were the only things not already blanketed in snow. The bell on the door rang loudly as Dirk stepped into the restaurant.

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