Only 04 - Only Love

as in ‘not pregnant’?” Willow asked with false sweetness.
    A red that had nothing to do with the cold wind appeared on Whip’s cheekbones.
    Caleb took the reins from Whip’s hand and headed for the barn.
    “Don’t take too many chunks out of his hide,” Caleb said to Willow over his shoulder.
    “Why not?” Willow retorted.
    “Shannon will want some to nail to her cabin wall.”
    “Don’t worry.” Willow’s smile was all teeth and not one bit of comfort as she turned away. “Whip is a big boy. There will be plenty of hide to go around. Come inside, brother dear.”
    Whip looked at Caleb’s retreating back and then at Willow’s. With swift, hard strides he followed his sister. When they were inside, he shut the door and grabbed her arm.
    “Tell me straight up, Willy,” Whip said in a flat tone. “Is Shannon pregnant?”
    “If she is, she didn’t mention it to us.”
    Whip’s breath came out with a harsh sound.
    “I didn’t think Shannon would come here unless she was pregnant,” he admitted.
    “Is that why you’re not halfway to China? Youwere worried that Shannon might be carrying your child?”
    “I don’t know why I’m not halfway to China,” Whip said, his eyes bleak, haunted. “I only know that I’m not.”
    Compassion softened the angry set of Willow’s face. She could sense her beloved brother’s unhappiness as though it were her own. With a sigh for Whip’s untamed, restless soul, she touched his sleeve gently.
    “Come to the kitchen,” she said. “I’ll pour you some coffee. I’ll make up a batch of biscuits, too. You look like you could use a good meal.”
    “I’ll settle for bread, if you have it. I’ve kind of lost my taste for biscuits. They remind me too much of …”
    Whip’s voice trailed away. With a weary curse he lifted his hat, ran his fingers through his pale hair, and tossed the hat onto the kitchen table. Automatically he pulled off the bullwhip, hung his jacket by the back door, resettled the bullwhip on his shoulder, and sat down.
    With eyes that reflected too many memories, Whip watched his sister go about the homey rituals of stirring up the fire, pouring coffee, and slicing bread. If he looked through nearly-closed eyes, he could pretend that it was Shannon moving around the kitchen, fixing supper, bringing him warmth and food with her own hands.
    But it wasn’t Shannon, and Whip knew it all the way to the bottom of his painful, seething soul.
    There was a rustling sound and a thump at the back door, as though someone had brought firewood and stacked it outside. Then the door opened and Caleb walked in with a pair of saddlebags thrown over his shoulder.
    Whip didn’t even look up from his coffee.
    Caleb shut the door and glanced at his wife. Willow shook her head slightly. Caleb almost smiled. He had guessed that Willow would be too tenderhearted to tear much of a strip off Whip’s thick hide.
    Caleb, however, wasn’t.
    “You said Shannon left a message for me,” Whip said. “What was it?”
    Willow looked at Caleb.
    “You forgot your change,” Caleb said sardonically.
    Two saddlebags thumped heavily onto the kitchen table.
    Whip glanced at them without interest. Then his eyes narrowed and one hand shot out. Muscles corded in his arm as he lifted the joined saddlebags, testing their weight.
    He hissed a word that made Willow flinch.
    “That tears it,” Whip snarled, letting go of the saddlebags. “Of all the stupid—”
    “Did that gold come from Shannon’s claims?” Caleb interrupted.
    “What damned difference does it make?”
    “To me, none,” Caleb retorted. “It made a hell of a lot of difference to Shannon, though. The difference between being a widow and a whore.”
    Whip uncoiled out of the chair and slammed into Caleb, pinning him against the kitchen wall in a single wild rush.
    “God damn you, she isn’t a whore.”
    “Whip! Stop it!” Willow cried, grabbing one of her brother’s arms.
    Caleb stared into the quicksilver violence of Whip’s eyes and smiled almost gently.
    “Hell, I know that,” Caleb said. “But if you’d feelbetter trying to beat the same words out of me, we can do a turn or two around the back yard.”
    Whip stared at Caleb’s level, compassionate eyes, took a deep breath, and stepped back.
    “Sorry,” Whip said, looking at his hands as though he had never seen them before. “I’ve been on a hair trigger, lately.”
    “Then you better sit on your hands for a few minutes,” Caleb