Only 04 - Only Love

summer,” Murphy said.
    “My husband is a fine shot, no matter what the game.”
    Shannon said nothing more.
    Nor did she have to. The Culpeppers looked among themselves uneasily. Then Beau smiled like a Comanchero.
    “Yeah, I keep hearing about what a fine shot your husband is,” Beau said. “But I ain’t never seen him shoot. Come to think on it, I ain’t never seen Silent John a’tall, and we been comin’ and goin’ from here nigh onto two years.”
    As Whip made the connection between “fine shot” and Silent John, he understood why Shannon felt brave enough to come into town alone. Silent John’s reputation as a bounty hunter was of the kind to make a man whisper Silent John’s name—and leave his wife alone, no matter how beguiling her walk.
    “Silent John’s not sociable,” Shannon said. “Most men never see him and go on to talk of it.”
    Her voice was thin, almost brittle. Not once had she turned to face the Culpeppers. It was as though she already knew who they were.
    And what.
    “Flour and salt,” she repeated to Murphy. “I would appreciate your getting them now that I’ve paid. It’s a long ride back to the cabin.”
    “Sure enough is, especially on that old mule your husband fancies,” Murphy said indifferently.“Soon as I take care of that big stranger and the Culpeppers, I’ll see to your order.”
    “I’m in no hurry,” Whip said. “See to the lady. She was here first.”
    Murphy grunted, unimpressed by the stranger’s logic. The storekeeper looked at Shannon’s right hand, the one she had rubbed along her pant leg to remove the feel of his fingers. He smiled, revealing teeth stained by chewing tobacco.
    “You want to throw in a little something to sweeten the pot,” Murphy said to Shannon, “and maybe I’ll get around to your supplies before dusk.”
    “My husband would be very disappointed in you.”
    “So would I,” Whip said.
    Murphy didn’t miss the warning. He bent beneath the counter, pulled out a shotgun, and slapped it on the scarred wooden countertop. The muzzle was pointed away from everyone, but Murphy’s hand wasn’t far from the trigger guard.
    Whip smiled grimly. Murphy wasn’t the first man to mistake Whip for a wandering teamster and think a shotgun was faster than a bullwhip. That kind of misunderstanding was fine with Whip. Surprise would help to even the odds a bit.
    But Whip still hoped it wouldn’t come to a fight. Four to one was about three too many as far as any careful man was concerned.
    “Just fill the lady’s order,” Whip said calmly. “If those boys are in such an almighty rush, I’ll go to the back of the line.”
    A quick flash of sapphire came as Shannon glanced toward Whip again.
    “Thank you,” she said.
    “My pleasure, ma’am,” Whip said, touching thebrim of his hat with a graceful motion.
    Despite Whip’s politeness, Shannon turned away before he could prolong the conversation.
    Whip was startled by the disappointment he felt. Listening to Shannon’s voice had been as pure a pleasure as watching her walk or trying to see to the bottom of her matchless blue eyes.
    “Hey, darlin’,” Beau said.
    Shannon kept her back turned to the Culpeppers.
    “Nice of her to show me the shape of her butt,” Beau said to no one in particular. “A mite narrow, but still enough to grab hold of so as not to get bucked off when the going gets rough.”
    The Culpepper boys laughed as though Beau had said something funny.
    Shannon didn’t move.
    “Does Silent John do it to you that way, darlin’?” Beau asked. “Or does he bend you over the back of a chair and have at you like the randy old goat he is?”
    Shannon’s face became as pale as salt, but she neither moved nor spoke.
    Neither did Whip. He simply watched Beau, measuring the distance between Shannon and the four Culpeppers. Two of the men seemed to be leaning on one another, swaying very slightly. The smell of sweat and stale whiskey rolled off them.
    Maybe the two of them will only add up to one man in a fight, Whip thought hopefully. In any case, I’ll start on the others first and leave those boys for last.
    Murphy moved through the room as though wading in chest-deep mud, slowly putting together Shannon’s small order.
    “Now, was it me,” Beau said, “I’d pull down those ragged trousers and grab a handful of—”
    “Murphy!” Whip said clearly, cutting acrossBeau’s words. “No need to measure the salt a grain at a time. I want to be out of