«That be the one. Lot of folks come westering during them years.»

The thought of Shannon married to a «snake-mean old man» for seven years dug at Whip. He had been in Australia during much of the War Between the States, but he knew how brutal it had been for the people caught between North and South. His sister Willow had barely survived.

It could have been Willy forced to sell herself to an old man in order to survive, Whip told himself silently. But Willy was lucky. She managed to stay alive and single until she met a man she could love. Caleb Black is a hard man, and a damned good one.

«Yup,» Murphy said. «I figure the gal is a widow by now. There was a mess of avalanches this spring. Silent John’s probably froze solid as stone somewhere way up a fork of Avalanche Creek. Culpeppers must think so, else they wouldn’t be so free with their talk.»

Whip said nothing. He simply stood, listening. The bullwhip writhed and hissed at his feet like a long, restless snake.

«The gal will be froze solid, too, come fall,» Murphy said with faint satisfaction. «Them supplies she bought wouldn’t keep a bird alive. Now, if’n she been more neighborly and less uppity…»

The storekeeper’s voice died as Whip looked at him.

«I saw a crowbait black picketed just outside of town,» Whip said. «Would he be for sale as a packhorse?»

«You got gold, ain’t nothin’ you can’t buy in Holler Creek.»

Whip dug coins out of his pants pocket. Gold coins. They rang as they hit the counter.

«Start rounding up supplies,» Whip said.

Murphy’s hand flashed out and scooped up the coins with surprising speed.

«And when you weigh the dry goods,» Whip added gently, «keep your dirty thumb off the scales.»

Surprisingly, Murphy grinned. «Not many folks are quick enough to catch me.»

«I am.»