«Will you?» Whip pressed.

«Will I what?»

«Visit Reno and Eve.»

«Don’t worry,» Shannon said, her voice neutral. «You won’t trip over me if you come back from yondering and want to see your own family.»

«That’s not what I meant!»

«Isn’t it? Well, in any case, it’s what I meant.»

«What about Caleb and Willow?» Whip demanded. «Are you just going to walk away from them, too?»

Shannon gave Whip a look from narrowed blue eyes.

«They’re your family, not mine,» she said distinctly. «I’m not walking away to anywhere but home, yondering man.»

«Damn it, that shack isn’t a home,» Whip said between his teeth.

«It is to me. Nothing you can say or do will change that. Accept it. Just as I’ve accepted that you’ll leave me as soon as your conscience lets you.»

Shannon turned away from Whip. In silence she watched the two people who moved as one over the rough slope. Just beyond Reno and Eve the mine’s mouth opened like a black, empty eye. They began quartering the area carefully, walking out from the mine’s entrance.

Whip watched, too. A muscle at the side of his jaw worked visibly as he fought to control his temper at Shannon’s maddening, stubborn insistence that she would keep on living in a place he didn’t believe was safe for her.

But there was nothing he could do about that, any more than he could take the darkness from Shannon’s beautiful eyes and replace it with light.

«It’s getting late,» Whip said finally.

Shannon nodded without looking away from the intricate dance of Spanish needles, woman, and man.

And love.

Shannon felt Eve’s and Reno’s love for one another like a knife turning in her soul. She would never have its like. When Whip left, he would take her love with him.

And he wouldn’t come back.

I never go to the same place twice.

«It takes time to find gold,» Whip said, keeping his voice level. «We have better things to do than watch Reno and Eve working.»

«How long does it take?»

For a moment Whip didn’t answer. He was too shocked by the flatness in Shannon’s voice. Where laughter and hope and love had once been, there now were only harshly controlled syllables and no life at all.

«It could be days,» Whip said. «The needles are tricky and tiring to use.»

«Days.»

The word was almost a ragged sigh, telling Whip that Shannon had hoped the answer would be weeks, perhaps months.

Perhaps even until the snows came, closing the trail to Avalanche Creek’s highest reaches.

«Then you’re right,» Shannon said. «We can’t waste any more time stalking sunlight through the forest, or picking flowers, or playing with Prettyface, or holding hands and watching sunset and moonrise, or lying together at night and pretending that tomorrow will never come.»

«Shannon —»

«No,» she said, speaking over Whip’s interruption. «You’re right. It’s time to move on.»

«Damn it! You make it sound like I’m saying good-bye right now. I’m not!»

«You should be. It might be easier that way.»

«Is that what you want? For me to walk away right now?»

«What I want?» Shannon laughed oddly. «What in God’s name does what I want have to do with it?»

Tears flashed unhappily in her eyes.

«Shannon,» Whip whispered. He reached for her. «Honey girl, don’t cry.»

«No.»

Shannon stepped back from Whip so quickly that she almost tripped.

«Don’t touch me.»

Her voice was raw from the fierce grip she had on her emotions.

«But —»

«If you touch me,» Shannon said over Whip’s voice, «I’ll really cry and that won’t do any good at all.»

Whip moved with alarming speed and strength, yet his hands were gentle when he pulled Shannon into his arms and wrapped her close against his body.

«I m-meant it,» Shannon said brokenly, refusing to meet Whip’s eyes.

«I believe you.»

He bent and kissed her eyelashes where silver tears already glittered.

«Go ahead and cry, honey girl. Cry hard and long. For both of us.»

A shudder went through Shannon as she fought against herself and the man who held her, cherished her, protected her, wanted her…but loved only the sunrise he had never seen.

Then she looked up at Whip’s eyes and saw her own helpless pain reflected there, an anguish that was all the more intense because he had never expected to feel it.

Cry hard and long. For both of us.

The fierce tension in Shannon’s body broke. She pressed her face against Whip’s neck and wept as though everything of life had been taken from her except pain itself.

Eyes closed, jaw clenched, Whip held Shannon, rocking her slowly, trying to ease the anguish that came from a hurt he had never meant to give, an agony that sprang from what he was and didn’t know how to change.

Yondering man.

After a time Whip carried Shannon to his horse, for he couldn’t force himself to let go of her. They rode down the mountain together, followed by a long-legged mule and a packhorse, with a huge hound trotting alongside.

Somewhere between Rifle Sight’s dreams of gold and the cabin’s lonely reality, Shannon’s tears finally stopped. Even then, Whip didn’t release her. He simply held her against his chest, his arms close around her as though he expected her to be taken from him without warning.

When they reached the cabin, Whip carried Shannon inside and put her on the bunk. Despite the heat of the day, the cabin was chilly, for no fire had been lit for many nights. He pulled the thick bearskin blanket over her and tucked it beneath her chin.

«I’ll be back as soon as I’ve taken care of the animals,» Whip said.

Shannon started to protest, then simply nodded agreement. She had never felt so tired in her life, or so cold. Not even after she had tried to dig Prettyface out of the creek’s icy trap.

When Whip returned he found Shannon curled beneath the heavy, furry blanket, staring at the rich sunset colors that were seeping through the ill-fitting shutters. A narrow shaft of red-gold light lay across her eyes, transforming them into an orchid color that was as exotic as anything Whip had ever seen in his years of yondering.

Then Shannon turned and looked at Whip. The grief in her eyes hit him like a blow.

«Honey girl,» he said roughly, kneeling beside her bed. «Oh, God, I wish I were a different man!»

«I don’t.» Shannon touched Whip’s sun-bright hair with fingers that trembled. «I wouldn’t have loved a different man.»

«I’ll stay.»

For an instant joy blazed in Shannon, burning away the desolate shadows. Then Whip’s eyelashes lifted and she saw the metallic sheen of his eyes. He had the fierce, hunted look of a wolf brought to bay.

«It wouldn’t work.» Shannon smiled with trembling lips. «But thank you for offering.»

«I’ll make it work.»

«How?» she asked simply. «Will you stop playing your flute at dawn, calling to the sunrise you’ve never seen? Will you stop looking into the clouds at sunset with hunger in your eyes for a different land, a different language, a different life? Will you stop yearning for something that has no name, no description, simply your soul-deep belief that such a thing exists somewhere on the face of the earth, waiting for you to discover it?»

Whip’s breath caught. He hadn’t realized that Shannon understood him so well.

Better than he understood himself.

«I want you,» he said starkly.

«I know,» Shannon said. «But you’ll leave anyway. Desire isn’t enough to satisfy your yearning, yondering soul. Only love could do that.»

Abruptly Whip closed his eyes. «I’ll come back to you, honey girl.»

«Don’t,» Shannon whispered, stroking the fierce lines of Whip’s face. «The pain would be too much when you left again. For both of us.»

«Shannon — God, I’m so sorry —»

Whip’s voice broke. Tears glittered wildly in his eyes.

«It’s all right, yondering man,» she whispered. «It’s all right.»