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.
“No.”
“I did. When someone you care about looks the way Whip did, you start asking questions. And you get answers.”
As Shannon looked at Caleb’s face, she remembered what Whip had once called him—a dark angel of vengeance who had followed a man for years to avenge the seduction, betrayal, and death of his sister. It reminded her of the man called Hunter, another dark angel moving over the face of the lawless land.
Shannon closed her eyes and laced her fingers together until they ached. When she opened her eyes, Caleb was watching her with both compassion and determination.
He knew his questions were painful for her. But he was going to have answers anyway, for Whip, too, was hurting.
“If I thought you didn’t care for Whip,” Caleb said calmly, “I wouldn’t have said a word about any of this to you. But I’ve seen you watching him. It’s the way Eve watches Reno, the way Jessi watches Wolfe, the—”
“—way Willow watches you,” Shannon finished for Caleb. “I’m sorry. I don’t have much practice at hiding my feelings.”
“There’s no need,” Willow said, putting the bowl of stew on the table. “You’re among friends, here. You know that, don’t you?”
Shannon nodded and tried to speak. Tears threatened to overflow her long, dark lashes.
Willow put her arms around Shannon and hugged her like a child.
“Then why can’t you stay with us?” Willow asked softly.
Shannon hugged Willow in return, took a deep, broken breath, and tried to make Whip’s sister understand.
“How would you feel,” Shannon asked, “if you loved Caleb and he wanted something more than he wanted you and he left you?”
Willow’s breath came in swiftly. She stepped back, wanting to see Shannon’s eyes. Then she wished she hadn’t.
“How would you feel,” Shannon said painfully, “if, after Caleb left, you lived in his sister’s house, saw Caleb in his sister’;s sun-bright hair and catlike eyes, saw Caleb in his sister’s child, a dimple in one corner of the baby’s smile…you saw all this and you knew every day, every breath, every heartbeat, that there would be no baby for you, no home, no mate to share your life?”
“I couldn’t bear it,” Willow said. “Loving Caleb, knowing he didn’t love me, being reminded of it everywhere I looked…. It would kill me.”
“Yes,” Shannon whispered.
She turned to Caleb, who was watching her with troubled eyes while his big hand stroked Willow’s hair in silent love.
“That’s why I can’t stay,” Shannon said to him.
“Is that what you told Whip?” he asked. “Is that why he looked like he had a knife in his guts?”
Shannon shook her head slowly, sending veils of autumn-colored hair sliding over her shoulders.
“No,” she said in a husky voice. “That’s not what I told him.”
“Why not?” Caleb asked.
“It would have been like asking him to stay…begging him. I won’t do that.”
“Too proud?”
Caleb’s voice was gentle but his eyes were the unflinching amber of a bird of prey.
He didn’t have all of his answers yet.
“Too practical,” Shannon corrected with a bittersweet smile. “Watching my mama and papa taught me how bad things can get when a man wants one thing and a woman wants another. He left and she took laudanum for the pain. For the first time, I understand why she did it. And I hope it worked.”
“Does that mean I have to lock up the laudanum?” Caleb asked dryly.
“No.”
“I didn’t think so. You’re tougher than your mama was, aren’t you?”
“I had to be. I took care of her at the end.”
“What did you tell Whip?” Caleb asked again.
“The other half of the truth. That I don’t want to be obliged to anyone, no matter how kind they are, for my bread and salt. I want to be free.”
“But you’re a—”
“Woman,” Shannon finished curtly. “Yes. I had noticed that very thing.”
“So does every other man who sees you walk by,” Caleb retorted.
“Caleb!” Willow said in exasperation. “Honestly!”
“Well, honey, it’s the truth, and all the talking about freedom and such won’t change the way Shannon walks.”
“I don’t do it on purpose,” Shannon said tightly.
“Hell’s fire, I know that,” Caleb said. “You’re no more a flirt or a tease than Willow is. That’s not the point. The point is that males are going to notice you’re female. The decent ones will strike up a conversation and come calling with candy in one hand, flowers in the other, and a gleam in their eye. If you aren’t interested, they’ll ride off and not come back. But not all men are decent.”
“I know that better than most women,” Shannon said.
“But you’re still insisting on going back?” Caleb asked.
“Yes. I’ll leave tomorrow.”
“Aren’t you going to wait for Whip to
go with you?” Willow asked, surprised.
“What makes you think he’s coming back?” Shannon asked.
“Did he say good-bye to you?” Willow countered.
“No.”
“Then he’ll be back.”
Shannon only shook her head, remembering the anger and anguish in Whip when he rode away.
“Rafael isn’t that unkind, no matter how hard the wanderlust is riding him,” Willow said. “He’ll be back.”
“Will he?” Shannon said. “Some men love gold, some men love the sea, and some love only the horizon they’ve never seen. Whip is hearing that sunrise calling him.”
“All he mentioned to me,” Caleb said, “was getting gold out of a hard rock mine. He was hell-bent on it. He went to Reno for advice.”
“Yondering requires money,” Shannon pointed out. “Whip probably needs some. He refused to take wages from me.”
“Whip has more gold than he knows what to do with,” Willow said. “Ingots of Spanish gold so pure you can mark it with your fingernail.”
Shannon looked startled. “I didn’t know that. Then why is he going to Reno to find out how to dig more gold?”
“If Whip offered you his own gold to buy supplies or a home in a safer place than Echo Basin, would you accept it?” Caleb asked.
“Never,” Shannon said softly. “I’m a widow, not a harlot to be bought by any man with an itch in one pocket and gold in the other.”
Caleb smiled slightly and nodded, unsurprised.
“Why don’t you stick around until Whip comes back?” he asked. “You shouldn’t ride all the way to the basin alone.”
“No, thank you. My dog was injured defending me from the Culpeppers. I should have gone back days ago.”
“Stay,” Willow said quickly. “Whip has…tenderness toward you. He might…”
“Settle down?” Shannon whispered, shaking her head and smiling sadly. “Only love could hold Whip, and Whip loves only the sunrise he hasn’t seen.”
15
WHIP rode up to the small home whose finishing touches were still being completed. When he reined in his tired horse, a young woman with hair and eyes the color of pure gold came running out of the kitchen. She leaped lightly off the low porch that ran the length of the house and smiled up at Whip.
“It is you! What a lovely surprise! Reno thought the yondering urge must have come over you again and taken you to the far side of the earth.”
“Not yet, Eve. I’ve got some gold to dig, first.”
“You? Gold?”
The startled look on Eve’s face made Whip smile despite the bleak emotions knotting his gut. The long ride from his sister’s ranch hadn’t eased his temper or his pain one bit.
“I thought you hated gold mining even worse than Caleb does,” Eve said.
“I do,” Whip said as he dismounted.
“Then why—”
Eve’s breath broke when Whip turned toward her and she got a close look at his face.
“What’s wrong?” Eve demanded anxiously. “It’s not Willow, is it? Or the baby? Is—”
“Everything’s fine at the Black ranch,” Whip interrupted.
“Then what has you looking so grim around the mouth?”
“Nothing some gold won’t fix. Where’s Reno?”
“Right behind you,” Reno said.
“Yeah, I thought so,” Whip said, turning around. “Someone has been watching me ever since I forded the river.”
Reno smiled. “Great view we have from our house. Saw you coming from a long way off.”
“Nice of you not to shoot.”
“Once I got that bullwhip in my sights, it was tempting,” Reno agreed, deadpan. “But then I got to thinking you might be bringing some of Willy’s biscuits to share around.”
“All I’m bringing is an empty belly and a favor to ask of you,” Whip said bluntly.
“That explains the look on your face. You always did look about as friendly as a wounded grizzly when you were hungry.”
While Reno spoke, he glanced at Sugarfoot through narrowed green eyes. The horse’s coat showed signs of having sweated and dried several times since the animal was last curried. The way the gelding tugged at the reins, trying to get close to grass, said that the horse was as hungry as its rider. And as tired.
“You and Sugarfoot both look like you’ve been rode hard and put away wet,” Reno said.
“I left Cal’s ranch just before supper yesterday.”
Reno’s black eyebrows shot up. “You must have ridden most of the night.”
Whip shrugged.
“I’ll help you see to Sugarfoot,” Reno said, “while Eve makes something for you to eat.”
As soon as the two brothers reached the pole corral, Reno turned to Whip.
“All right. Let’s have it,” Reno said bluntly. “What’s wrong?”
“Like I told Eve. Nothing that some gold won’t cure.”
“One of those Spanish bars is buried right under your feet. If I dig it up, will it put the light back in your eyes?”
Whip said something terrible beneath his breath, lifted his hat, raked his fingers through his hair, and yanked his hat back into place.
Without a word or a glance toward his brother, Whip turned to Sugarfoot and uncinched the saddle. With one hand he lifted the heavy saddle and flipped it onto the highest rail of the corral. With his other hand he took the saddle blanket, turned it over, and laid it out to dry on top of the saddle.
Bending swiftly, Whip hobbled the gelding and turned him out to graze. Sugarfoot went forward eagerly, for the margin of the river that ran within a hundred feet of Reno and Eve’s home was lush with grass.
Reno watched Whip with green eyes that missed nothing, especially the ease of his brother’s movements. Seeing Whip’s muscular grace made some of the tension in Reno loosen; he had feared that Whip had some injury or illness he was trying to conceal.
“Cal and Willy and Ethan are all right,” Reno said.
It wasn’t exactly a question, but Whip nodded.
“You’re as fit as a cougar, despite a ride that took the starch out of that tough gelding of yours,” Reno said.
Whip shrugged.
“You haven’t had bad news about any of our brothers?” Reno pressed.
“No.”
Reno waited.
Whip said nothing more.
“Well, that cinches it,” Reno said, smiling slightly. “It must be woman trouble.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Whip asked, nettled.
“The lines around your mouth and the look in your eyes that says you’d like to kill something, and God help anyone who gives you the excuse.”
Whip flexed hands that kept wanting to become fists. He had come to talk about gold, not about a woman he shouldn’t take and couldn’t leave alone.
“Are you going to talk,” Reno asked mildly, “or would you rather fight first?”
“Hell,” Whip said in disgust. “I came here to ask a favor, not to fight you.”
“Sometimes a fight is a favor.”
Whip made a low sound that could have been a curse or laughter or both combined. Then he looked up, straight up. The sky was as deep and blue as Shannon’s eyes.
“Have you ever wanted two things,” Whip said slowly, “even though having one of them means giving up the other, and you can’t give up either one, because you really want both of them, so you keep turning in tighter and tighter circles like a dog chasing its own tail until finally you don’t know which end is up?”
Reno’s smile was oddly gentle for a man who looked as hard as he did.
“Of course I have,” Reno said softly to his brother. “It’s called being human. Stupid, but human.”
“What did you do?” Whip asked curiously.
“When you finished tearing strips off me, I figured out what was important. Then I married her.”
Whip’s mouth turned down. “I’d make a piss-poor husband. I’d always be looking o
ver the fence and pacing like a mustang fresh off the range.”
“Still chasing sunrises?”
“I can no more help my yondering streak than you can help being left-handed and hell on wheels with that six-gun of yours,” Whip said flatly.
“Probably, but you never know.”
“What does that mean?”
“When you started yondering,” Reno said slowly, thinking as he spoke, “you were hardly more than a kid. Like me, you left home as much because our older brothers were restless—and Pa had a heavy hand with the belt on our backsides—as for any wanderlust of your own.”
“Was that it?” Whip shrugged. “It’s so long ago now, and I’ve seen so many places and done so many things since then, it’s hard to remember what started me yondering.”
“But you don’t want to give it up.”
“How do you give up your soul?” Whip asked simply, his eyes haunted.
Reno had no answer except the quick, hard embrace he gave his brother.
“Come on,” Reno said after a moment. “Eve will be fretting about what’s wrong with you. It galls me to admit that she has such poor taste, but she cares about you almost as much as she does about me.”
Whip smiled slightly. “I doubt that. But I have a real fondness for her. She has the kind of laughter and sheer courage that I admire in anyone, especially a woman. Eve is solid gold. What she ever saw in you I’ll never know.”
A crack of laughter and a slap on the shoulder was Reno’s answer. Side by side, the two brothers walked toward the house with long strides. When they reached the back door, Whip looked dubiously at his boots, and then at Reno’s.
“Something wrong?” Reno asked.
“There are parts of this world where you would be insulting your host and hostess by wearing your boots across the threshold of their home,” Whip said. “Especially boots like these and a new home like yours.”
“Eve must have been to those same places,” Reno admitted. “She leaves a pair of moccasins next to the door for me to swap for my boots.”
Reno’s smile was wry and amused at the same time. Eve’s pleasure in having a home of her own had been a keen satisfaction to him.
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