«Maybe I was wrong.»
«Maybe. But I’ve got a better idea.»
«What? Jump somebody’s claim?» she asked bitterly.
«I’ll leave that to the Culpeppers, and I’ll leave robbing trains and banks to the James brothers.»
Shannon smiled despite her unhappiness about the lack of gold on Silent John’s claims.
«What’s your idea?» she asked.
«The only real safety for a girl like you is in a nice town with picket fences around the houses and church bells ringing and a good, settled man for a husband. But —»
«I don’t want to marry,» she interrupted curtly.
«— there’s no place like that in Colorado Territory,» Whip continued.
«Thank God,» Shannon muttered.
Whip ignored her. As he spoke, his original enthusiasm for the idea of sending Shannon to live with Caleb and Willow returned in full force.
«The next safest place for you would be Cal’s ranch,» Whip said firmly.
Shannon cut a sideways look at Whip and said not one word.
«The ranch lies beyond those peaks,» Whip said, pointing to the west, «about a day’s ride from your cabin on a good horse in good weather. Two days if you take Razorback. Four if you walk.»
«And no time at all if you stay home,» Shannon pointed out pleasantly.
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
