Schulze, Dallas

by Gunfighter's Bride

  “I... Well, I simply meant that... I didn’t mean to imply...” Sara caught herself in midsputter. Taking a deep breath, she drew herself up to her full height, which was still an inch or more shy of Lila’s. “Naturally, I didn’t mean to suggest that Sheriff McKenzie’s ethics weren’t above reproach,” she said with careful dignity. “If I implied otherwise, I sincerely apologize.”

  She knew exactly what she’d implied, Lila thought. What’s more, she’d meant every word of it. Whether she actually believed Bishop was less than honest was another question, but, at the very least, she’d hoped to make Lila uncomfortable. Lila wondered how much Sara liked finding the shoe on the other foot. Under other circumstances, she might have nodded coolly and made her departure. But this was her home for the foreseeable future, and, in a town this size, it would be foolish to begin a feud the day after her arrival.

  She softened her smile and allowed the chill to fade from her eyes. “Perhaps I’m overly sensitive,” she said. “We’ve had so little time together and you know how new brides can be.”

  Her response gave Sara a way to save face, which was more than she deserved. Lila could see that knowledge in her eyes, along with a new wariness as the other woman considered the idea that she might have underestimated her. There was a moment’s silence as the two of them weighed and measured each other. It was Sara who looked away first.

  “I really must be going,” she said, glancing at her companions. “I have a great many things to do today. It was a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. McKenzie. We must have tea together.”

  “That would be lovely,” Lila said, sounding so sincere that she nearly believed it herself.

  “Lovely.” Sara’s thin mouth twitched in a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

  “I’ll go with you,” Dot said. She nodded to the other two women, eyes darting nervously across Lila’s face as she hurried after Sara. The door shut behind them with a crisp jangle of bells.

  Lila looked uncertainly at Bridget Sunday, wondering if she’d offended the minister’s wife. To her relief, Bridget’s eyes sparkled with amusement.

  “I didn’t think I’d live to see the day when someone would set Sara Smythe back on her heels.”

  “That wasn’t my intention,” Lila said, a little uneasy now that the moment was past.

  “Not to worry.” Bridget waved one small hand in airy dismissal. “She earned it. And I’ve no doubt it did her a world of good into the bargain. She’s a tendency to run roughshod over anyone who’ll let her. It won’t do her any harm to be brought up short. As my husband would say, a bit of humility never hurt anyone.”

  “I’m not sure Mrs. Lyman agrees,” Lila said, remembering the uneasy look Dot had given her as she departed in Sara’s wake.

  “Don’t you be worrying about Dot. She’ll come around. She’s a good soul but she’s been playing fart catcher to Sara for so long, it’s hard for her to think on her own. Oh, my!” She slapped one hand to her mouth, her eyes rounding with horror above it as if she’d just realized what she’d said.

  Lila stared at her, shock warring with amusement. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard that particular phrase before,” she said, struggling to keep her tone level.

  “It’s a horrid old saying my granda used to use.” Bridget pressed her hands to her cheeks as if to cool their heat. “If Joseph knew I’d said such a thing, I’d never hear the end of it. Though it is true,” she added, with a quick spurt of mischief. “I swear, Dot hardly dares to take a breath without asking Sara’s permission. And you can be sure that she tells Sara every bit of rumor she hears so beware what you say to her.”

  “Bishop said she was the second biggest gossip this side of Julesburg and that her husband was the biggest.”

  Bridget’s chuckle was warm and rich, seeming almost too big for a woman her size. “I always knew Sheriff McKenzie was a man of great sense. And he’s confirmed it by marrying a fine, sensible woman such as yourself.” She linked her arm through Lila’s in an impulsive gesture of friendship. “Introduce me to these two children of his. I’ve heard tell the little girl’s as pretty as her name and that the boy is the spittin’ image of his da. I’d have thought the good Lord would be breaking the mold after making a handsome devil like your husband. He certainly should have anyway, to be protecting vulnerable female hearts.”

  Lila allowed herself to be led over the counter where the children were waiting after having selected their candy. Though it should have been too soon to tell, she knew she’d found a friend in Bridget Sunday.

  ***

  Nearly a week after her arrival in Paris, Lila was reasonably pleased with the progress she’d made toward establishing a place for herself and the children in the little town. She was still considered an outsider, of course. That was something only time would change. But she’d made the acquaintance of most of the townspeople and had been, for the most part, welcomed. She had even managed to have tea with Sara Smythe without either of them saying a single sharp word to the other—a not-insignificant accomplishment, considering their first meeting.

  Not that they were ever likely to become friends, Lila thought as she walked past Fitch’s General Store. But they might manage to remain civil acquaintances, as long as they didn’t spend too much time in each other’s company.

  Just as she might have guessed, Sara was the driving force behind the Women’s Charitable Fund of Paris, an organization that seemed to be dedicated less to dispensing charity than it was to sponsoring the aggrandizement of the small mining town. At the moment, the fund was trying to raise money to install marble pillars in front of the Bank of Paris. The absurdity of attaching a pseudo-Greek façade to the squat little building apparently escaped Sara, who’d solemnly explained that beautification of one’s surroundings was an important step toward improving the moral tone of a community. The fact that her husband happened to own the bank didn’t seem to strike her as a conflict of interest, but the idea might have occurred to others because, after three years, the charitable fund was still woefully short of having the required amount. Sara had admitted as much in the disgruntled tone of a great leader whose followers were proving annoyingly slowwitted.

  Thinking of it two days later was enough to make Lila’s mouth curve in a smile as she stepped through the door of the hotel. She paused to allow her eyes to adjust to the dimly lit lobby.

  “Afternoon, Miz McKenzie.” Clem Lyman greeted her from his usual post behind the lobby desk. Lila couldn’t imagine what he found to occupy his time. Certainly the hotel was not so overrun with guests as to require his presence at all times. On the other hand, the lobby, with its big windows fronting onto the street, offered as good a place as any to keep tabs on the town’s comings and goings.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Lyman.” Lila’s greeting was friendly. Despite their predilection for gossip, she’d come to like both the Lymans. There was something almost childlike about their eagerness to know—and share—everyone’s business. “It’s a lovely day, isn’t it?”

  “It is, at that,” he agreed with a smile. “You’re looking lovely yourself, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

  “Have you ever known a woman to mind being told she was lovely?”

  His smile widened into a grin. “Now that you mention it, can’t say that I have. Where are the children?” he asked, looking past her as if expecting to see them dawdling behind.

  “They’re at Mrs. Sunday’s. They were having such a nice time playing with her children that she offered to let them stay.”

  “Gives you a bit of a break, doesn’t it?”

  “It does that.” Lila struggled to keep from sounding too appreciative of the break but it wasn’t easy. She’d become very fond of Angel this past week and she thought that Gavin was even starting to thaw toward her a bit, but she couldn’t deny that the thought of a few hours alone sounded like sheer heaven. And Bridget knew it, God bless her. Her offer to keep the children had been as much for Lila’s sake as theirs.

 
“With my five, two more won’t make a bit of difference,” she’d insisted. “They’ll have a splendid time and it’ll give you some time to yourself. If you can’t make use of it, then you’re not as smart as I think you are.”

  Lila knew exactly how to make use of this unexpected gift of privacy. One thing she’d learned about children was that they made long, hot baths a near impossibility. She just didn’t have that much time to herself. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, Mr. Lyman, I’d like to have a bath brought up to my room.”

  He pondered her request a moment, his round face thoughtful. Just when she was wondering if begging would help, Clem nodded his head.

  “I reckon we could manage that. Take a little time to heat the water, but, if you don’t mind waiting, I’ll see to it.”

  “I don’t mind waiting,” she assured him, trying not to look too pathetically grateful. “Mrs. Sunday has invited Mr. McKenzie and me to join her family for dinner tonight and she’s keeping the children until then, so I have plenty of time.” She was turning away from the desk as she spoke, eager to go to her room and make preparations for her bath.

  “That reminds me, the sheriff was here looking for you a little bit ago.”

  “Was it anything important?” Lila asked, turning back to look at him. Bishop hadn’t exactly been seeking out her company these past few days. Other than dinner each night in the hotel dining room, they’d barely seen one another, which suited her just fine. She wasn’t sure who was avoiding whom and didn’t really care as long as they were successful. He created too many conflicting emotions, made her feel things she didn’t want to feel, remember things she didn’t want to remember.

  “Didn’t say what it was about,” Clem admitted with obvious disappointment. “But he seemed a bit perturbed when he couldn’t find you. Said to tell you to wait for him here.”

  “He did, did he?” Lila’s eyebrows rose. Wait for him here? Was there no limits to his arrogance that he thought he could simply ask someone else to pass on his instructions and she’d jump to obey? Her first impulse was to march right out of the hotel. Never mind that she didn’t have anywhere else to go, she simply didn’t want to be there when Bishop arrived.

  “Still want that bath?” Clem asked, apparently reading something of her thoughts.

  “Of course.” Lila forced a surprised smile. She wasn’t going to let Bishop spoil her little treat. No doubt there’d be other opportunities to make it clear that he couldn’t expect to snap his fingers and have her jumping to obey. In fact, she was willing to bet that there would be frequent opportunities for such demonstrations. “Just bring the water upstairs when it’s ready.”

  And if the water wasn’t hot enough, she probably could set it steaming all on her own, she thought as she climbed the stairs. She’d give Bishop a piece of her mind just as soon as she saw him. He needed to understand that there were some things she simply would not tolerate.

  CHAPTER 10

  He was going to have to explain to Lila the way things were around here, Bishop thought as he stalked down the hallway. Checking back at the hotel had been his last stop before he started tearing the whole damned town apart to find her. For the last few days, he’d kept an eye on her as she made the town’s acquaintance. Since the jail was located in the center of the main street, it hadn’t been difficult to track her comings and goings.

  This afternoon, for example, he’d glanced out the window in time to see her and the children go into Fitch’s. Since he was sitting at his desk doing paperwork, it would have been simple enough to keep an eye out and see where she went from there.

  Or it would have been if he hadn’t been called to settle a dispute between two of the patrons of the Red Lady Saloon. The disagreement had begun over the worn favors of one of the girls who worked the upstairs rooms. It had started with harsh words and soon advanced to an exchange of blows, an event that wouldn’t have been brought to his attention if it had ended there. But when it escalated to knives, the bartender had sent someone to get the sheriff.

  By the time Bishop arrived on the scene, one of the men had his opponent pinned to the floor and was about to cut his throat. If he hadn’t felt it necessary to pause to enjoy the terror in his victim’s eyes, he would have succeeded. But his delay gave Bishop time to rap the butt of his pistol up against the side of his head, ending the fight in a summary manner. He’d hauled both men to jail and tossed them in a cell to give them time to contemplate the error of their ways.

  Incidents like this were common enough that they hardly rated a mention in the Paris Examiner. Bishop wouldn’t have thought anything of it if it hadn’t been for the fact that, while he was dealing with the quarrelsome miners, Lila had managed to disappear.

  This wasn’t Pennsylvania, where she’d been able to do whatever she liked. This was a mining town in the midst of the far-from-tamed West. There were dangers here she probably couldn’t even imagine. Not the least of those dangers was his own desire to shake her until her teeth rattled, he thought grimly.

  After unlocking the door of the room Lila and Angel had been using, he pushed it open and stepped inside. At first glance, the room seemed empty. The bed was neatly made, one of Lila’s dresses laid out across it; a pair of Angel’s tiny shoes sat next to the single chair, the toes turned at drunken angles; but there was no sign of the room’s occupants. But Clem had said Lila was there so, unless she’d slipped down the back stairs to avoid going through the lobby, she had to be there. That being the case, there was only one place to look, he thought, fixing his attention on the screen that blocked off one corner of the room. He started toward it.

  Bishop had heard it said that cleanliness was next to godliness. He didn’t feel qualified to speak to the holiness of it, but there was certainly something to be said for the sheer beauty of a naked woman sitting in a tub full of water. Even if her eyes were spitting fire.

  “You!” Lila put more venom into the single word than most men could put into a string of profanity.

  “Were you expecting someone else?”

  “When I heard the door open without the courtesy of a knock, I didn’t know what to expect,” she said pointedly. “I assumed it was a criminal of some sort.”

  “And you figured the best place to greet him was in the tub?” He lifted one booted foot and set it on the edge of the tub for emphasis.

  “I thought it best to remain quiet and hope the ruffian would go away,” Lila said stiffly.

  “Didn’t work, did it?”

  “Obviously not.”

  Using the side of one thumb, Bishop tipped his hat back on his head and let his eyes roam over as much of her as was visible, which was not nearly as much as he would have liked. The tub was not long enough to allow her to stretch out, and her updrawn knees concealed most of her upper body from him. Only her shoulders and the creamy upper slopes of her breasts were visible. Still, it was enough to set a man to thinking.

  “Didn’t it strike you as odd that this ‘ruffian’ had a key?” It was an effort to drag his gaze back to her face. She was glaring at him.

  “Certainly. But it didn’t seem likely that a gentleman would enter a lady’s room without so much as a knock.”

  “I think I told you once before that I never claimed to be a gentleman. And, in case you’ve forgotten, we are married. I’d guess that gives me the right to open a door without knocking now and again. You do remember that we’re married, don’t you?”

  “Of course.” Lila had to swallow to get the words out. There was something about the way he was looking at her that made it difficult to speak. She was suddenly, vividly aware of the vulnerability of her position. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to get up now.”

  She realized immediately that she’d said the wrong thing.

  Bishop’s crooked grin confirmed it for her. “I don’t mind a bit. Want me to hold a towel for you?” he offered obligingly.

  Lila closed her eyes for a moment, her teeth grinding together. It was a wonder the wat
er didn’t start to boil around her. But it didn’t. In fact, it was rapidly going from tepid to downright chilly. She opened her eyes and looked at him. His elbow rested on his knee as he leaned toward her, and he didn’t look as if he had any intention of going anywhere. With his hat tipped back, the faintest hint of a smile visible beneath his dark mustache, and his blue eyes gleaming with amusement—at her expense!—he was wickedly attractive. Damn him.

  “What I want is for you to go away and allow me to get dressed in privacy,” she said, her tone stiff with annoyance.

  “I guess that would be the gentlemanly thing to do, wouldn’t it?” Bishop drawled.

  “Yes, it would.”

  There was a moment’s taut silence while their eyes warred with one another. She couldn’t force him to do as she asked, and he knew it. Legally and, some would say, morally, he had every right to stay where he was and watch her rise stark naked from her bath. Lila’s stomach clenched at the thought. She told herself it was anger and resentment, but she couldn’t deny a tiny thread of dark excitement at the thought of standing naked before him.

  “Don’t take too long,” Bishop said, just when she thought he was never going to speak again. He straightened, dropping his foot from the edge of the tub, and disappeared around the other side of the screen, leaving Lila sitting in her cold bath, telling herself that what she felt was relief, not disappointment.

  He was a fool, Bishop told himself as he listened to the splashing sounds coming from behind the screen as Lila left her bath. A damned fool, he amended as she whisked the soft linen towel from where it had been draped across the screen. He should have scooped her out of that tub and carried her to the bed and put an end to this waiting once and for all. She’d been hiding behind the children long enough.

  “Where are the children?” he asked.