Damn Silent John anyway! If he can’t take care of a girl like Shannon, he never should have married her and brought her to such a rough place.

«Well, Floyd,» Beau persisted. «What do you think about them teats?»

Floyd belched, scratched his crotch thoughtfully, and said, «I think Silent John is a damned good shot.»

«So what?» Beau retorted. «We ain’t touchin’ her. Thet was all we was warned about. Touchin’.»

«And followin’,» Clim added.

«We ain’t done thet, neither,» Beau said.

«Not after the first time,» Floyd agreed.

He pulled off his hat and stuck two fingers through two bullet holes in the brim.

«Damn fine shootin’,» Floyd said. «Must have been near a thousand yards. Sure never saw hide nor hair of him, neither.»

«All we done is try to be friendly-like to his wife,» Clim said. «Follow her an’ see she got home safe.»

«Yeah. We was bein’ neighborly.» Beau smiled, showing a line of sharp, uneven teeth. «Like now. Right neighborly. Thinkin’ warm thoughts about birds and tight little nests.»

«Downright hot nest, I’ll bet,» Darcy mumbled.

«Stuck-up bitch,» Clim muttered.

«Murphy,» Whip said sharply. «Start measuring that flour instead of staring at it. I’m getting tired of hearing dogs break wind.»

«Huh?» Clim said.

For a few moments there was silence while the Culpeppers tried to figure out if they had been insulted, and if so, how.

Murphy slammed the lid back on the flour barrel and walked slowly to the front of the store. He was carrying a small sack of flour over one shoulder and a much smaller bag of salt in his left hand.

«Do you think she yells?» Darcy asked no one in particular.

«What you yammerin’ about now?» Beau demanded.