Only 04 - Only Love

breath. “You’ve got real sand.”
    Whip turned and went to the cupboard. He lit the lantern and held it above Beau Culpepper. After a single look Whip blew the lantern out and went to Shannon.
    “Is he dead?” she asked starkly.
    “Yes.”
    Shannon closed her eyes for an instant. A tremor ripped through her, but her grip on the shotgun didn’t loosen.
    “He had a knife in one hand,” Whip said, “and a six-gun in the other. Don’t feel bad for him. He’s had it coming for a long, long time. It’s just too bad you had to be the one to deliver it.”
    Shannon took a steadying breath. “Prettyface—”
    She could say no more.
    “I’ll look for him,” Whip said. “But first, I’d better see to these boys.”
    To Whip’s surprise, Clim was still alive, but only barely. Darcy hadn’t been so lucky. Floyd was already coming back to his senses, moaning and complaining every breath of the way.
    Talking softly, Whip went to one of the mules.The animal eyed him warily but made no attempt to flee; obviously the Culpeppers had trained their mounts not to be upset by a little gunfire and blood. With a few quick motions, Whip untied the blanket roll behind a saddle.
    “I’ve never seen a man fight like you did,” Shannon said, watching Whip and remembering his flashing, always unexpected movements. “Did you learn that in West Virginia?”
    “China.”
    With one hand Whip removed Darcy’s weapons. With the other, he shook out a blanket and covered the dead man. Then Whip turned to the other Culpeppers.
    “The Chinese have tricks that make what I did look like child’s play,” Whip added.
    Shannon made a disbelieving sound.
    “It’s true,” Whip said. “The man who taught me didn’t come up to my breastbone and weighed less than you. But he could lay me out like a fish for filleting in about five seconds flat. Damnedest wrestling tricks you ever saw.”
    While Whip spoke, he stripped away guns and knives from the fallen men, retrieved his own bullwhip, and put it on his shoulder. Then he bound Clim’s wrists and knees together with rawhide thongs. He did the same for Floyd, ignoring the groans.
    “Where did they jump you?” Whip asked Shannon as he stood up.
    “Halfway between here and the big stump on the far side of the meadow.”
    Whip went to Shannon, tilted her chin up with his hand, kissed her lips lightly, and released her.
    “You keep an eye on things here,” he said. “I’ll bring Prettyface back to you.”
    For a moment Shannon looked at Whip with haunted blue eyes. Then she nodded and turned back to watching Culpeppers.
    Whip swung up onto a mule and headed out into the meadow. When he neared the place Shannon had described, he began quartering the tall grass and wildflowers. It didn’t take him long to find the big hound.
    Cursing under his breath, Whip looked down at Prettyface. Bloody cloth was still gripped in his jaws. A shallow scarlet groove went across his skull, just above the glazed, half-open eyes. Another wound left a bright strip of blood across his brindle chest. A third bullet had clipped his haunch.
    Blood welled slowly from the wounds.
    Whip made a startled sound and dismounted in a single rushing movement. An instant later he was kneeling by Prettyface’s side. The hound’s flank rose and fell slightly, steadily, as much a proof of life as the fact that his wounds still bled.
    “You’re a tough son, aren’t you?” Whip said in a low voice.
    Gently, thoroughly, he went over the big brindle body. Prettyface flinched once and made a high sound.
    “Easy there,” Whip said soothingly. “Looks like you got kicked pretty good, and you’re bleeding in three or four places, and knocked sillier than a squirrel from that crease on your skull, but you’re young and strong. You’ll live to play with your mistress in the flowers again.”
    Before Prettyface could regain his senses completely. Whip eased the big hound into his arms, stood up, and grabbed the mule’s rein. The dog whined, but made no other protest as he was carreidacross the meadow to the cabin with the mule Following along behind.
    The first thing Whip saw as he approached the cabin was a big stranger standing off to one side of the yard, watching him with eyes the color of gunmetal.
    Damnation, Whip thought grimly. I sure to God hope that man’s name isn’t Culpepper.
    “Shannon?” Whip called.
    “If you mean the girl with the shotgun, she’s inside the cabin, fixing to ventilate my