Whip kept talking as though she hadn’t said a word.
«Cal and Willy — my sister, remember?»
«Cal is your sister? I thought he was a man.»
Whip shot Shannon a glittering glance.
She gave it right back.
«Willow is my sister. Caleb is her husband.» Whip spoke slowly and clearly, as though to the town drunk. «They have a little boy and are expecting another baby before too long. All she has for help is Pig Iron’s wife, and she only speaks Ute.»
«They should send to Canyon City. Or Denver. Or maybe one of your other widows would want the job. I don’t.»
Whip made a frustrated sound and raked his fingers through his hair, dislodging his hat. He caught it with careless ease and pulled it firmly back into place. He wished his temper were as easy to get hold of and keep in hand.
«They wouldn’t treat you like hired help,» Whip said carefully. «You would be like…family.»
«After my step-aunt, I’d rather be treated like hired help,» Shannon said.
«Damn it! All I meant was you would have a safe place to live with good people around you and kids to enjoy and —»
«Their home, their children,» Shannon said tightly, «Thank you, no. I’d rather have my own home and my own children to love.»
The thought of Shannon having another man’s children sent raw rage through Whip. The sheer violence of his reaction shocked him. He locked his jaw against the reckless words crowding his throat.
What business of mine is it whose kids she has, Whip asked himself savagely, as long as they aren’t mine?
The rational, reasonable, logical question did nothing to cool Whip’s elemental rage. Teeth clenched, he turned away from the girl who could trigger his temper — and his body — as no one else ever had.
That’s the end of it, Whip told himself. Time to pull up stakes and find another sunrise before she has me so hog-tied I can’t even move.
But first I have to see that the stubborn little witch is safe, whether she likes it or not.
Without a word Whip turned away from Shannon and strode toward his own camp.
Shannon let out a long breath, took in another one, and looked at her hands. They were trembling slightly. She knew she had come very close to making Whip lose his temper entirely.
But she didn’t know what she had done to cause it.
«I wish you could talk, Prettyface. You’re a male. Maybe you could tell me what I did.»
The big, brindle hound nudged Shannon’s hand. He didn’t know what was wrong with his mistress, but he sensed something was.
«I thanked him very politely for his offer of a place in his sister’s house,» Shannon pointed out.
Prettyface’s tongue lolled as he panted softly.
«Well, maybe not very politely,» she conceded, «but I certainly wasn’t rude. Not nearly as rude as he was.»
The hound cocked his head to one side, ears erect, looking as though he were about to speak to Shannon.
«If only you could talk.» She sighed deeply. «But you can’t. So I guess I’ll have to ask Whip why he got so furious when I said I wanted a home and children of my own. It’s not like I was asking him to provide either one.»
Unsettled, torn between anger and hurt, Shannon walked after Whip.
But when she got to his campsite, all her questions fled. Whip was quickly, efficiently, packing up his belongings.
No! Oh, Whip, don’t leave me yet.
Shannon’s short fingernails bit into her palms as she tried to stem the tears burning against her eyelids.
I won’t cry. I knew it was coming. I just didn’t think it would be like this. In anger.
Shannon started to speak, then thought better of it. She couldn’t trust her voice not to reveal her hidden tears. Silently she turned away and went to her own campsite.
By the time Shannon heard Whip’s big gray horse walking toward her campfire, she could trust herself to speak. Whip pulled the horse to a stop and dismounted without a word.
«Leaving?» she asked him evenly.
«I told you I was.»
«Yes.»
Shannon looked at her hands, took a deep, secret breath to calm herself, and smiled up at Whip.
«Thank you for all you’ve done, Whip. If you ever come back through here — oh, that’s right. You never chase the same sunrise twice.» She made a vague, jerky gesture with her right hand. «Well, thank you. Are you certain you won’t take some pay? You’ve done so much and I do have a bit of gold left.»
Whip looked at Shannon’s pale face and trembling hands and wanted to comfort her and shake her at the same time. Silently he stalked past her and began packing up her camp.
«What are you doing?» Shannon asked after a minute.
«What does it look like?»
The tone of Whip’s voice made Shannon flinch.
«It looks like you’re packing my gear,» she said.
«Do tell.»
Whip rammed some dried food into a burlap bag and looked around for more.
There wasn’t any.
That, too, irritated him. It reminded him of just how close to the edge Shannon had been before he came along, and how close to the edge she would soon be after he left.
Unless she took a job with Willow.
«Why are you packing my gear?» Shannon asked distinctly.
«Because you’re coming with me.»
Shannon’s eyes closed. I refuse to lose my temper over a yondering man who can’t see love when it’s right in front of him.
When Shannon’s eyes opened, they were as furious as Whip’s. But her words weren’t. They were well chosen, spoken in a low voice, and very distinct.
«You weren’t listening very well,» she said. «I’m not going anywhere except up to Rifle Sight to dig for gold.»
«Oh? You going to eat grass while you dig?»
Shannon blinked. «No.»
«Then you better ride as far as your cabin with me. There aren’t enough supplies left up here to keep even a stubborn little idiot of a girl alive.»
«Don’t worry. There’s no ‘stubborn little idiot of a girl’ around to eat the supplies. There is, however, a thick-shouldered, thickheaded blind man with the appetite and disposition of a starving grizzly who —»
Abruptly Shannon remembered that she had promised herself not to lose her temper with this stubborn, blind mule of a man.
«There are enough supplies for a day of digging,» she said with false calm.
Whip looked at the cloud-seething sky and then back to Shannon.
«By this time tomorrow, it will be storming fit to drown Noah,» he said. «A smart little girl would get her rump moving down the hill to shelter.»
«A smart little girl wouldn’t be up here —»
«Amen.»
«— with a rock-stubborn blind man!»
«Pack up,» was all Whip said.
Shannon didn’t move.
With a savage curse Whip turned to her.
«You calling me stubborn,» he said coldly, «is like the pot yelling at the kettle for being black.»
«Do I sense agreement on the subject of your stubbornness?»
«Right now we couldn’t agree on water being wet, but that doesn’t change the facts. There’s no gold in Rifle Sight. There’s a storm coming. There aren’t enough supplies to see you through the storm.»
Shannon wanted to dispute Whip’s words, but she knew he was right. She had been so busy playing with Prettyface and arguing with Whip that she hadn’t bothered to look at the sky.
She came to her feet in a graceful movement that belied her ragged men’s clothing.
«Fine,» Shannon said grudgingly. «I’ll ride with you as far as my cabin.»
«Don’t do me any favors.»
«Don’t worry, yondering man.»
Despite their mutual ill temper, Whip and Shannon worked side by side breaking the camp, understanding what must be done without discussion.
By the time Crowbait was packed and Razorback was saddled, much of Shannon’s anger had bled away into a numbing kind of sadness. She doubted it was the same for Whip. His face was still set and his eyes were still narrowed as he swung into Sugarfoot’s saddle.
Prettyface ranged out around the horses and mule as they took to the vague trail down the mountain. The trip to the cabin was accomplished swiftly and in a silence that made Shannon’s heart ache. Not until they were at the cabin door did Whip speak.