«Damn it, you’re twisting my words!»
«Am I? I know you’ll leave me, Whip. I’ve known it from the first time I heard you talking about the sunrise you’ve never seen. ‘Nothing is more beautiful. Nothing is more compelling. ’»
«Shannon, honey girl, I —»
«No,» she whispered, stopping his words by brushing her lips just once over his. «I believed you then. I believe you now. You will leave. And I will stay in my cabin.»
«I won’t let you.»
«Yondering man, you can’t stop me.»
Whip closed his eyes. His mouth was flattened, his lips pale.
«You’re tearing me apart,» he said in an anguished whisper.
«I’m just —»
Whip talked over Shannon’s words, trying to make her understand.
«I want you. I want you like I’ve never wanted anything — except the sunrise I’ve never seen. I can have one or I can have the other. Do you know how it feels to be torn apart like that?» he demanded in despair and rage. «I would tear the soul out of my body if it meant an end to this pain!»
Tears burned behind Shannon’s eyes, gathered in her lashes, and slid hotly down her cheeks.
«I would do the same,» she whispered. «But you can have what you want most, Whip. Freedom. I’m not baiting any traps or building any cages with you in mind.»
«The hell you aren’t,» he said roughly. «I have to know you’re safe.»
«And I have to know I’m free! Like you, yondering man. Free as the sunrise.»
«You can’t be. It’s not the same for a woman.»
«Not for a married woman, no. But I’m not married.»
Whip opened his eyes and saw the tears in Shannon’s.
«Honey girl, don’t cry. I never meant to hurt you.»
«And I never meant to tear you apart,» Shannon whispered. «All I ever asked you to do was dig gold for me. Since that’s too much tying down for you to live with, just ride on and find that sunrise you hunger for so much. Ride on and leave me be.»
«I can’t,» he said simply. «Not until I know you’re safe.»
«You have to.»
«Shannon —»
«If you stay, you’ll hate me,» she interrupted starkly. «I’d rather die, Whip.»
«And that’s just what you’ll do if you go back to that damned shack!»
«My choice, Whip. Not yours.»
Slowly Whip lowered Shannon to the floor. Then he removed his hands from her arms, turned his back, and went out the front door without another word.
SHANNON looked over the dinner table, checking that everything was where it should be. Normally she wouldn’t have worried, but normally she wouldn’t be feeling used up and wrung out like an old rag. Already she had dropped a spoon, spilled coffee, and scorched her fingers adding wood to the fire.
«Thunderation,» she muttered, using one of Cherokee’s favorite phrases. «I forgot the plates.»
If Willow noticed Shannon’s unexpected clumsiness, nothing was said about it. But Willow had her hands full with Ethan at the moment. He was hollering from his crib, outraged that his mother wouldn’t let him polish his walking skills in the kitchen, careening from sink to table and back again, with a heart-stopping run at the wood stove in between.
«Blazes, but that boy is quick,» Willow said, coming back into the kitchen.
«He has Caleb’s speed,» Shannon agreed. «Along with his amber eyes. And a dimple at the corner of his smile that is just like Whip’s.»
Willow smiled. «If Ethan grows up one half as handsome as his daddy or his uncle, all the girls in Colorado Territory will beat a path to our door. How is the stew coming along?»
«It’s ready.»
«Good. I saw Caleb walking in from the barn when I put Ethan in his crib.»
«Was Whip with him?»
«No, but he won’t be far behind. In case you hadn’t noticed, my brother likes home cooking.»
Shannon ducked her head so that Willow couldn’t see the sudden gleam of tears.
What’s wrong with me?Shannon asked herself grimly. I know better than to cry. It’s a waste of salt and effort.
«I noticed,» Shannon said in a muffled voice. «So long as it isn’thishome, of course. Is the bread cool enough to slice yet?»
«Should be. Mark my words, though. Whip will complain that there aren’t any biscuits.»
«No, he won’t,» Caleb said, closing the kitchen door behind him. «He left a few hours ago.»
Shannon went very still.
«Left?» Willow asked, turning away from the stove. «Where did he go?»
«To see Reno.»
«Oh.» Willow frowned and went back to spooning stew into a big wooden serving bowl. «Odd that he didn’t say anything to me. That’s not like him.»
Caleb’s whiskey-colored eyes focused on the slender girl whose hair was the color of autumn.
«Did he say anything to you?» Caleb asked Shannon bluntly.
«No. But then, he’s a yondering man.»
«That doesn’t excuse bad manners,» Willow said. «I declare, for all the customs in all the countries of the world Whip has learned, he should know better.»
Caleb hadn’t stopped looking at Shannon. There was the same tension around her mouth, the same darkness in her eyes, that there had been in Whip’s. Caleb had spent several hours thinking about how Whip had looked, and whether anything should be said about it.
He had decided it should.
«I understand Whip did some digging on your gold claims,» Caleb said.
Shannon nodded.
«Any luck?» Caleb asked.
Willow shot him a surprised look. «Caleb, that’s none of our business.»
He turned toward her with startling swiftness. «Not usually, no. But this isn’t usual.»
Willow gave her husband a long look, said something under her breath, and went back to spooning stew.
«Any luck finding gold?» Caleb asked again, turning to Shannon once more.
«No. Whip said he lost the drift, whatever that is.»
Caleb grunted. «The drift is the direction the vein of gold takes in the bedrock. When you lose it, all you’re doing is hammering stone.»
«Whip did a lot of that. He came back every day covered in rock grit and sweat.»
«Did he? Why? He hates gold mining almost as much as I do, and he hates working for wages even worse.»
«Whip was worried about me,» Shannon said. «Winters are long in Echo Basin, and supplies in Holler Creek are very dear. He was worried that I wouldn’t have enough to eat unless the claims paid for it.»
«There’s always hunting,» Caleb said. Then he smiled slightly, remembering the story of the grizzly. «But you’re not much of a shot, are you?»
«Ammunition is too expensive to waste practicing,» Shannon said, «so I just have to sneak up on game and do the best I can.»
«I’m surprised Silent John didn’t make his own bullets. Most men like him do.»
«He did. But he never trusted me enough to teach me how. He was mighty particular about the weight of his bullets. He counted each grain of powder.»
«I’ll just bet he did,» Caleb said, thinking of Silent John’s reputation with a. 50-caliber buffalo gun. «Do you think he’s still alive?»
«No. But please don’t tell anyone.»
«Why?»
«I don’t want two-legged wolves howling around the cabin each time they get a skin full of rotgut,» Shannon said bluntly. «Silent John put the fear of God in the men around Echo Basin. I want it to stay that way.»
Caleb nodded, unsurprised. «What about Whip?»
«Whip?» Shannon asked. She smiled sadly. «He can howl around my cabin any time he takes the notion.»
Caleb laughed softly, even as he understood the pain in Shannon’s smile.
«Does Whip think Silent John is dead?» Caleb asked.
«Yes.»
«Then what’s the problem?»
«I beg your pardon?» Shannon asked.
«Why did Whip light out of here like his heels were on fire?»
«He wants me to stay with you and Willow.»
«So do we,» Willow said from the stove.
«I…thank you,» Shannon said. «But I can’t.»
«Can’t or won’t?» Caleb asked in a clipped voice.
«Caleb,» Willow said. «We have no right.»
«Did you see your brother when he rode out?» Caleb asked curtly.