The Culpeppers saw, and laughed.
«Hey, old man. She don’t want your dirty paws on her,» one of them said. «How about mine, darlin’? I washed ’em just last week.»
«Your hands ain’t no cleaner than mine, Beau,» said another Culpepper.
«Shut up, Clim,» Beau said. «Go find your own rag doll to fondle. I done found mine. Ain’t I, darlin’?»
Shannon acted as though the Culpeppers didn’t exist.
But Whip could tell that she heard each word clearly. She was standing straighter than ever, and the generous lines of her mouth were drawn flat in fear or distaste.
I hope those boys have better manners than I think they do, Whip told himself grimly. I’d hate like hell to take on the four of them with only a bullwhip and a prayer.
Murphy bit the ring again, grunted, and tucked it into the pocket of his greasy flannel shirt.
«Your husband must’ve cleaned out his claims if this is all the gold you got left,» Murphy said.
«Ask him,» said Shannon. «If you can find him before he finds you.»
Murphy grunted and the Culpeppers hooted.
«The bit of supplies your ring fetches won’t see you through a fortnight, much less a whole 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 neverseenhim 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 the brim 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 across Beau’s words. «No need to measure the salt a grain at a time. I want to be out of here before sundown.»
Beau gave Whip a hard look.
Whip smiled. Beneath his golden mustache the curve of his mouth was cold rather than reassuring, but Murphy was too far away to notice and the Culpeppers were looking only at Shannon.
«Don’t git yer water hot,» Murphy said from the other end of the room. «I’m movin’ fast as I can.»
«Move faster. The lady is in a hurry.»
Something in Whip’s voice made the Culpeppers turn and look at the fair-haired stranger.
Nothing had changed. He was still a big, easy-moving man with a bullwhip riding his right shoulder, a tolerant smile, and neither rifle nor revolver in sight. The Culpeppers each had belt guns, and no reluctance to use them.
«You better take Murphy’s advice, boy,» Beau drawled to Whip, «and don’t get your water hot for nothin’.»
As Beau spoke, his hand settled on his belt, just above the scarred wooden handle of his revolver.
«You’re big enough for two,» Clim said, «but we’re four to your one, we ain’t exactly tiny, and we’re packing guns.»
«I can see that,» Whip said.
It was all he said.
The Culpeppers muttered among themselves. They must have decided that the stranger was suitably cowed, because they began baiting Shannon again.
«Why don’t you turn yourself around, darlin’?» Beau said. «As pretty as your butt is, I’d a damn sight rather look at your teats.»
«Yeah,» Clim said. «We been wonderin’ all winter what you’d look like without them men’s rags you always wear. Are your teats dark like old Betsy’s, or are they red like Clementine’s?»
«Clementine rouges hers,» muttered one of the Culpeppers. «And thet ain’t the only place she greases.»
«Hell you say, Darcy,» Clim retorted. «I done left enough tooth marks on them teats to know what’s real and what’s rouge.»
A small shudder went through Shannon.
Only Whip noticed, for only he was looking for a reaction from the silent girl.
Beau gets it first. Definitely. That boy’s manners need some real polishing.
Whip took a step forward.
«No,» Shannon said quietly, turning her head, looking right at Whip. «Ignore them. Their words mean no more than a dog breaking wind.»