Only Love

Shivering, she lifted down the shotgun from its pegs, checked it, and found it clean and dry and ready to fire. She grabbed a handful of jerked venison, drank a cupful of cold water from the bucket, and eased out of the cabin into the dense, featureless darkness that preceded dawn.

Breathing softly, Sha

Prettyface whined at the door and began scratching to get outside.

«No,» Sha

Quickly she moved to the side of the house, where the wind couldn’t carry her scent inside.

Prettyface’s whining increased in volume and intensity. So did the scratching sounds.

Sha

The thought of having to face Whip again made Sha

Even if she could face Whip, he would pitch a fit about her taking off to hunt by herself. Yet that was exactly what she had to do. She had to hunt and hunt successfully, without depending on Cherokee. If Sha

And never having her own.

Sha

«Quiet.»

The low command stilled Prettyface for a few moments. Then he began a high whimpering that would soon escalate into true howling.

«Damnation,» Sha

She opened the door, grabbed Prettyface’s muzzle with both hands, and clamped down.

«You can come with me, but you have to be quiet.»

Prettyface quivered eagerly. And quietly. He knew the hunting ritual too well to make noise now that he was going to be included.

Silently Sha

In any case, Whip was going to be waiting around for his brother to show up, not looking for Sha

With luck, Whip wouldn’t even come to her cabin. Then he wouldn’t even notice she was gone.

* * *

THE sound of a shotgun being triggered woke Whip up. He lay beneath the tarpaulin and a layer of fresh snow and listened intently. Another shot came, sounding the same as the first.

One man. One shotgun.

No answering fire.

A hunter, probably, taking advantage of the tracking snow.

Whip lay half awake, half asleep, feeling worn out and used up, as though he had spent the night in hell rather than in a comfortable bedroll while snow fell softly, making another warm blanket for him to lie beneath. Through slitted eyes, he measured the peach-colored light in the eastern sky. True daybreak was two hours away, for the sun had to climb over some tall peaks before its brilliant rays could fall directly on Echo Basin.

A third shot came echoing through the cold air, quickly followed by another.

Whip smiled thinly.

Must be a miner. No other kind of hunter would take four shots to bring down a deer. Sounded like he was using both barrels, too.

No sooner had the thought come than Whip sat bolt upright in his bedroll, scattering snow in all directions.

She wouldn’t!

But Whip knew that Sha

Whip crammed his feet into cold boots, adjusted his bullwhip on his shoulder, grabbed his rifle, and ran to the stony outcropping that overlooked the clearing.

There was no smoke coming from the cabin.

She could be asleep.

Then Whip saw the tracks leading away from the cabin. He began swearing under his breath.

A very short time later, Sugarfoot was saddled, bridled, and crow-hopping his way across the clearing. It was the horse’s way of letting Whip know how much it resented a cold blanket and a colder saddle.

Whip rode out his mount’s tantrum without really noticing it. He was still consumed by the knowledge that Sha

Does she think I’m such a bastard that I won’t hunt a winter’s worth of game for her before I leave? Is that why she’s walking around in worn-out boots and clothing that’s fit only to be made into a rag rug?

The answer lay in the tracks showing starkly against the gleaming silver snow. Sha

A harsh wind keened down from the peaks, stirred up by the rising sun. Whip shivered and swore and pulled the collar of his jacket higher against the icy fingers of wind.

She must be cold.

The thought only increased Whip’s anger.

Why didn’t she wait for me to hunt for her? I’m not so much a bastard that I wouldn’t help her out. She must know that by now.

Christ, other men would have taken what she offered and never looked back when they left.

But Sha

And he had turned her down flat.

Remembering Sha

Grimly Whip followed the tracks, making the best speed that the land allowed — certainly much better speed than Sha

She at least could have ridden one of the damned racing mules. They’re hers, after all. Sure as hell the Culpeppers don’t need them anymore, and Razorback will be lucky to make it through the winter.

Whip knew that Silent John’s old mule wasn’t the only creature that would be lucky to survive the coming winter. The thought of Sha

She’s too damned poor to be so proud. There would have been no shame for her in accepting a place with Cal and Willy. It’s honest work. And they liked her.

But Whip didn’t fool himself about his chances of getting Sha

It’s for her own good. Surely she can see that. If only I had put it more gently….

Just how many gentle ways are there to tell a girl not to touch you, especially when you would move heaven and earth and take on hell just to be touched by her?

The thought of being caressed by Sha

He didn’t like it one damned bit.

Hurry up, Reno. Find the gold that will free Sha

And me.

The tracks Whip was following veered abruptly. As soon as he looked up, he understood why. Off to the right was a small clearing. Through the screen of trees he could see that deer tracks circled the clearing partway and then dashed across the fresh snow in the center as though the deer had been startled into flight.

Whip reined Sugarfoot over to the edge of the clearing and confirmed what he had already guessed. Several deer had been browsing along the margin of forest and meadow. The wind must have been on Sha