Only 04 - Only Love

woman can make it just fine alone, even all the way up Avalanche Creek.”
    “No. You won’t survive the winter alone.”
    There was no inflection in Whip’s voice, simply an absolute certainty that said more than any shouted tirade could have.
    “I survived last winter,” Shannon said, “and the one before that, and the one before that.”
    Whip tried to speak, couldn’t, and tried again.
    “What do you mean?” he asked roughly.
    “Silent John disappeared three winters ago.”
    For a moment Whip was motionless. Then he shook himself as though he had been hit with a board.
    He felt like he had.
    “You’ve wintered alone here three times?” Whip asked harshly.
    “Yes.”
    Whip wanted to believe Shannon was lying, but he knew all the way to his soul that she wasn’t.
    “Then Silent John must be dead,” Whip said.
    Shannon nodded and closed her eyes. “He’s buried in a landslide up Avalanche Creek.”
    “How long have you known?” Whip demanded angrily.
    “I guessed he was probably dead the second winter. But I wasn’t truly certain until just a bit ago, when Cherokee told me she had backtracked Razorback to a fresh landslide when Silent John didn’t come back from the claims. His tracks went in, but none came out.”
    “Then nothing’s holding you here but your own stubbornness,” Whip said.
    “There’s nothing holding anyone to life but sheer stubbornness,” Shannon said wearily.
    “You’re planning on staying here.”
    Shannon nodded.
    “Damn you!” Whip said roughly. “You’re trying to tie me down!”
    “No! I’m just tell—”
    “How can I leave you alone and helpless up here?” he asked, his eyes as hard as his voice. “I can’t and you know it! You’re counting on me to—”
    “I’m not helpless!” Shannon interrupted. “I’mnot counting on you for one damned thing! I don’t need you!”
    A turmoil of emotions twisted in Whip, tightening his throat, making it raw. The cold he had felt in the stream was nothing to the freezing emptiness that came to him when he thought of Shannon lying dead in the high country, her grave as unmarked as Silent John’s.
    “The hell you don’t need me,” Whip said in a low, savage voice. “You nearly died out there today.”
    For the space of two long breaths, Shannon looked at the man who was so close to her, yet so very far away. Lantern light made his hair burn like the sun and turned the icy clarity of his eyes into a quicksilver mystery. Nothing had ever called to Shannon the way Whip did. She would have given the blood from her body to see herself reflected in his eyes, in his heart, in his soul.
    She would have sold her own soul to be a distant sunrise calling his name…and to hear him answer.
    “Yes,” Shannon said calmly. “I could have died. But so what? The stars would have come out tonight and the sun would have risen tomorrow morning. The only difference would be that I wouldn’t see it.” She smiled oddly. “Not much difference, really. About the same as this.”
    Shannon lifted her hand from the water. Liquid swirled and then flowed back as though her hand had never been there, never known the pool’s warmth.
    Whip looked at the dark water and felt a dull knife sawing through his soul, cutting him in two.
    “See?” she asked softly. “No real difference. Now do what the water did, Whip. Let me go.”
    “You’re still shivering.”
    “I’ll be fine as soon as I get some clothes on.”
    “The water is warmer than those rags you wear.”
    The protectiveness of Whip’s arms around Shannon said much more than his words did. He didn’t love her, but he cared about her safety.
    It was a heady feeling to be cared for, to be cherished, to know that she wasn’t alone, if only for a time.
    The temptation to give in and rest her head against Whip’s chest undermined Shannon’s determination to stand alone. She longed to lean against Whip’s heat and strength, to pull him around her like a living blanket, to warm herself with his abundant fire.
    And then she remembered what Whip had said the last time she reached out for him.
    Don’t touch me.
    Echoes of shame and humiliation swept through Shannon in waves. Abruptly she pushed at Whip’s arms, trying to get free of him.
    “What the hell?” Whip asked. “Why are you fighting me? You act like I’m going to rape you!”
    Shannon made a sound that was almost laughter and not quite a sob.
    “You wouldn’t have to rape me and you know it,” she said