New Release -- RIVER WHISKEY by J.L. Guin

In a fiery accident, Eli Jenkins believes he has murdered Morton Crenshaw, the father of the girl he loves. When his friend, Whit, suggests they leave for California now, Eli is ready to go. The two young men “borrow” clothing and gear from the dry goods store where Whit has worked for many years, and light out on the run.

But their lives take a different turn when they become involved with seasoned traders, mountain men, Indians, and outlaws. Somewhere along the journey, the two tenderfoot greenhorns become men to be reckoned with—and, in their own right, respected.

When they return to Independence for Eli to own up to killing Angela’s father, Fate steps in again and turns their lives around. Will Eli claim Angela Crenshaw for his bride? Or will Whit and Eli head back on the rough-and-tumble trail West to chase their dreams of selling RIVER WHISKEY?

EXCERPT

      Once outside, Eli lay Morton on his back and looked at his battered, bloody nose. Morton’s eyes were half open, but unseeing. With growing concern, fear gripped Eli as he shook Morton’s shoulders, calling his name, but there was no response. A sudden chill swept through Eli and he lowered the man to the ground. He looked again at the downed man’s bloody face and broken nose, then pressed his ear to Morton’s chest. He could not detect a heartbeat over the crackling of the burning barn. Terrified now, he stood and stared, unbelieving, at the body before him.

     Angela’s mother was running toward the burning barn, calling out as she ran, “Morton! The barn is on fire!”

     Angela flung herself onto her father’s chest, “Daddy!” She sobbed. She turned her head to look at Eli then called to him, “Oh, Eli,” she said, then sputtered, “Just go! Go!”

     Eli’s mind was afire with indecision. He looked first to Angela, then to her approaching mother, then back to Angela once more.

     “Go!” Angela commanded again. Eli turned and ran into the shadows toward his horse. He was dumbfounded. Not only did he figure that he had killed Morton Crenshaw, but he was burning down the man’s barn, as well! 

     He did not think to seek other help. Panic had taken hold of him. Upon reaching his waiting horse, he grabbed the reins, mounted quickly, then tried to put distance between himself and the incident. His mind raced for solutions as frantically as the heaving mount under him was running.