ago. They could be anywhere now.»
«The yondering streak must run wide and deep in your family.»
The haunted tone of Shannon’s voice made Willow turn and look over her shoulder. A glance told Willow that her first impression of Shannon had been correct. The slender, edgy girl with the spectacular sapphire eyes was more than a little taken by Rafael «Whip» Moran.
«Yes, I suppose so,» Willow said, turning back to the stove. «Even if we had been stay-at-homes, the war would have scattered us to the winds. There was no home to come back to.»
«Yes,» Shannon said simply.
«Sometimes I hear the gentle rhythms of the South in your voice,» Willow said as she sifted flour.
«Virginia,» Shannon said, «a long, long time ago.»
«Is that why you came west? Did the war take your home from you?»
In another person the question would have been prying. But Willow’s voice and gentle hazel eyes made it clear that sympathy rather than curiosity lay beneath the question.
Shannon closed her eyes for an instant, wondering how to tell this gentle Southern lady about the hell on earth that Shannon’s life had been before Silent John had come and taken her to Colorado Territory.
«Never mind,» Willow said quickly. «I didn’t mean to pry. Would you like a cup of coffee, or do you prefer tea?»
«Do you really have tea?»
The wistful question told Willow a great deal.
«We always have tea. Jessi — Wolfe Lonetree’s wife — was raised in Scotland and England. So was Wolfe, partly.»
«Wolfe.» Shannon frowned. «Whip has mentioned him.»
«Not surprising. Rafe earned the nickname Whip the day some Canyon City toughs were talking indecently to Jessi because she married a man who is half Indian.»
A vivid memory came to Shannon — the blurring speed of Whip’s wrist, the harsh crack of the bullwhip, and the bright blood on Beau Culpepper’s dirty mouth.
«That’s how I met Whip,» Shannon said.
Willow made an encouraging sound as she bent to remove a pan of biscuits from the oven. Though Willow hadn’t asked, she was very interested in how her brother had come to be in the company of the wife — or, according to Whip, thewidow — of one of the most notorious man-hunters in the West.
«Some no-account claim jumpers name of Culpepper were in Holler Creek at the mercantile when I came in to buy supplies,» Shannon said. «The Culpeppers started talking about me. I didn’t like the vile things they were saying, but…» She shrugged.
«You were alone?» Willow asked as she deftly transferred biscuits to a napkin-lined basket.
«Yes,» Shannon said. «I tried to keep Whip from mixing in. I was afraid he would get hurt, four armed men to his one, and Whip wasn’t even carrying a gun. The Culpepper boys have an ugly reputation around Echo Basin.»
Willow’s breath caught at the thought of her beloved brother taking on four men.
«The Culpeppers kept on talking filth,» Shannon said. «Then suddenly there was a sound like a shot and blood was on Beau’s mouth and another sharp sound and another and Culpeppers were jumping and yelling like they had kicked over a hive of wasps. By the time I realized it was the bullwhip, the fight was nearly over.»
Willow wiped her hands on her apron and let out a long breath.
«I’ve seen my brother do some fancy tricks with that bullwhip of his, but four armed men at once…» Willow said, shaking her head.
«They didn’t expect it,» Whip said from beyond the doorway. «That made it a whole lot easier.»
Shannon spun around.
Behind Whip loomed Caleb Black.
«Don’t do a damn fool thing like that again,» Caleb advised dryly.
«I didn’t exactlyplanon doing it the first time,» Whip retorted.
Caleb gave a crack of laughter, walked into the kitchen, and touched Willow’s hair with a gentleness that astonished Shannon.
«How’s my favorite girl?» he asked softly.
«Getting big enough to be two of your favorite girls.»
Smiling, Caleb bent down and said something that only Willow could hear. The sudden pink on her cheeks and the smile on her generous mouth spoke eloquently of a woman who was well pleased with her man, and he with her.
«Is that biscuits I smell?» Whip asked.
«Nope,» Caleb said quickly. «It’s your imagination.»
«Huh. Likely story.»
Caleb picked up the basket of biscuits and pretended to conceal it beneath his work jacket.
Smiling, Whip held out his left hand. On his palm were two steaming biscuits.
Shannon made a startled sound. She hadn’t even noticed Whip reaching for the biscuits, yet there they were in his hand.
«Thought you might feel that way,» Whip said, «so I helped myself while you were whispering sweet nothings in my baby sister’s ear.»
Willow rolled her eyes and shook her head.
«You two,» she said in mock disgust. «A body would think I made only one biscuit at a time and divided it crumb by crumb among all the help.»
«I’ve been meaning to talk with you about that,» Caleb said, bending down. «Among other things…»
Shannon blinked and tried not to stare. She was almost certain she had seen Caleb’s lips skim across Willow’s ear.
«Shoo,» Willow said, laughing and pushing on her husband’s broad back. «If you keep distracting me, I’ll burn the bacon and put too much salt in the biscuit mix.»
«You heard her,» Whip said, grabbing Caleb’s arm. «Move, man. You don’t want to interfere with Willy’s biscuits.»
Laughing, struggling just enough to make Whip work a little, Caleb allowed himself to be led from the kitchen. Shannon watched them go with a look of wonder on her face.
«You look like somebody just hit you with a board,» Willow said, trying not to smile.
«I feel like someone did,» Shannon admitted. «Whip is so…different here. I mean, he smiled and sometimes laughed and such back in Echo Basin, but not like this. Not…playful.»
«Whip knows that as long as he’s here, he won’t have to guard his back or his words or anything else. We’re his family.»
Shannon hoped her yearning didn’t show, but she was afraid it did.
«Home for a yondering man,» she whispered.
«That’s my brother,» Willow agreed, measuring out the salt. «A fiddlefoot and a wanderer. He’s been like that since I was knee-high to a racing mule.»
A child’s fretful cry came to the kitchen. Willow looked at the flour and at the oven. Then she sighed, washed her hands in a basin, and wiped them on her apron.
«Excuse me,» Willow said. «Ethan doesn’t have his father’s patience. If I don’t fetch him out of that crib and nurse him, he’ll yell down the house.»
«Go ahead. I’ll finish the biscuits for you. Have the hands eaten?»
«Pig Iron’s wife cooks for them lately.»
«Then we’ll need four more pans of biscuits, right?»
Willow’s honey-colored eyebrows rose. «How did you know?»
«Whip is good for two pans all by himself.»
«So is Caleb.»
Shannon smiled slightly. «Yes, I figured that from the size of him. Which leaves one batch of biscuits for us.»
«If we’re quick enough,» Willow said, her voice dry.
