Only 04 - Only Love

spine if I do something foolish.”
    Whip looked past the man to the window. Sure enough, the barrel of the shotgun was poked through the window, plainly tracking the stranger’s every breath.
    Prudently, Whip stepped to the side.
    The dark-haired stranger nodded slightly, understanding Whip’s move. If the shotgun went off, Whip wouldn’t be in the way of any stray buckshot.
    “Take care of your hound,” the man said, looking at Prettyface with sympathy. “I’ll keep.”
    Then the man’s eyes changed, becoming as hard as flint when he glanced at the three Culpeppers on the ground.
    Whip knelt and lowered Prettyface gently to the grass. As whip stood again, the long lash dropped from his shoulder. The butt of the bullwhip came into his left hand as though summoned. Leather coils seethed and rippled restlessly at his feet.
    “Come on out, Shannon,” Whip said clearly. “Prettyface is cut up some, but he’ll live.”
    The shotgun barrel vanished from the window. The cabin door opened and banged shut as Shannon ran out, hope and fear clear in her face.
    “Prettyface?” she asked huskily.
    “Right behind me. Watch that shotgun, now.”
    Shannon didn’t bother to answer Whip. She had already uncocked the shotgun and was kneeling by her dog, making soft, happy noises.
    Whip never took his eyes off the tall, long-boned stranger whose riding cape, trousers, and boots had once been part of a Confederate uniform.
    “You know these boys?” Whip asked.
    “Culpeppers, from the look of their mules.”
    “Friends of yours?”
    “I’ve been hunting them ever since Appomattox. All eleven of them.”
    “Any particular reason?” Whip asked mildly.
    “They’re wanted, dead or alive, in Texas. During the War Between the States, they murdered three young Texas women and sold their children to the Comancheros. By the time the fathers came home from the war, found out what had happened, and went to rescue their children, it was too late. Every last child was dead.”
    Whip didn’t ask any more questions. He didn’t need to. The man was obviously a former Confederate officer. Whip suspected that the man’s wife had been one of the three young women murdered by Culpeppers.
    As for the rest, Whip had only to look at the man’s bleak eyes to know that his children had been among the missing.
    “Hunting Culpeppers, huh?” Whip asked softly. “Well, this is your lucky day, my friend. Those three are Clim, Darcy, and Floyd.”
    “Dead?”
    “Darcy is. Clim and Floyd are alive for the time being. Wouldn’t bet a Confederate dollar on their”chances, though. Clim’s back is broken and Floyd’s wrist smells like it’s gone bad.”
    “Gangrene?”
    Whip nodded.
    “From the fight in Holler Creek?” the stranger asked.
    “Wasn’t much of a fight. I took them by surprise and just kept at it until the job was done.”
    If one corner of a mouth lifting slightly could be called a smile, the stranger smiled.
    “Thought it might be you,” the man said, looking at the long, restless lash. “Whip, isn’t it?”
    “That’s what they call me.”
    “I’m called Hunter since the war.”
    “Hunter,” Whip said neutrally, nodding.
    “Heard Beau was with them,” Hunter said, gesturing to the Culpeppers.
    “He was.”
    “Then he got away again,” Hunter said savagely. “Damn his slippery hide! Excuse me, ma’am.”
    “Don’t apologize,” Shannon said without looking up from Prettyface. “I’m no gentle Southern lady. I just killed a man.”
    Hunter’s black eyebrows rose. “A Culpepper?”
    Shannon nodded curtly.
    “Well, ma’am, some folks would argue that a Culpepper doesn’t count as a man,’ Hunter said.” “Especially the folks who buried what was left of those three young women.”
    Hunter turned back to Whip.
    “Which way did Beau go?” Hunter asked.
    “Straight to hell, I imagine.”
    “He’s dead?” Hunter asked, looking around again.
    Whip nodded. “In the cabin.”
    Hunter gestured with his head toward Shannon, asking a silent question.
    Again, Whip nodded.
    Some of the fierce tension left Hunter’s body. Not until he began to relax did Whip realize just how poised for battle Hunter had been.
    “I owe you,” Hunter said simply. “There was five hundred dollars on Beau’s head, two hundred on Floyd and Darcy, and one hundred on Clim. I’ll see that you get it.”
    “No,” Shannon said fiercely. “No blood money. We wouldn’t have killed them if we had a