Schulze, Dallas

by Gunfighter's Bride

  He made some noncommittal noise that could have been agreement or indifference. He moved restlessly around the room, picking up a spoon and setting it down again before moving to look out the window. Lila watched him out the corner of her eye. She knew him well enough to know that he had something on his mind.

  “Gavin and Angel are wonderful children. It took Gavin a little while to accept me. I think he was afraid that I might try to replace his mother. But we came to an understanding. And Angel is just as sweet as she looks. I can’t imagine a more loving child.”

  “You’re very fortunate,” Susan said.

  “I think so.” Lila poked her fingers into the dough, gauging whether she’d kneaded it enough.

  “I want you to come home with us,” Douglas announced abruptly.

  “What?” Lila’s head jerked up, her eyes wide and startled.

  “You heard me. I want you to come home with us. Immediately.”

  “Douglas, you promised me you wouldn’t bring this up,” Susan said, looking distressed.

  “I can’t very well stand here and watch her work like a servant for him and listen to her talk about raising his children as if they were hers and not do something about it,” Douglas protested. He took a quick, agitated step away from the door, as if he might sweep Lila up and carry her to safety immediately. “You don’t even have to bother to pack. I’ll send someone to do it for you later. If we leave now, we can be in Denver tonight and on our way home tomorrow.”

  “This is my home now, Douglas,” Lila said carefully. She wiped her hands on the apron she wore and caught hold of her temper. He was speaking out of concern for her, she reminded herself. He didn’t mean to sound so incredibly overbearing. “And I think of Gavin and Angel as my children now. I can’t just walk off and leave them without a word. I’m married to Bishop. You have to accept that, whether you like it or not.”

  “I don’t like it,” he snapped. “I don’t like it at all. You should never have married him. I should have insisted that you stay at home.”

  “As I recall, you didn’t give me much choice about marrying Bishop,” Lila pointed out in a dangerously calm voice. “I seem to remember that you simply informed me that you’d arrange for the ceremony to take place as quickly as possible.”

  “I was wrong,” he said with a snarl. “I should have given it more thought. And even if you married him, you could have stayed at home. I should at least have insisted on that.”

  Lila leaned across the table toward her brother, her eyes bright green with anger. “It wasn’t your place to insist on anything at that point. It was my choice to come West with Bishop.”

  “Fine.” Douglas glared at her, every bit as angry as she was. “You made your choice and you came West. Now it’s time to come home.”

  “This is my home,” she said, raising her voice.

  “Don’t be such an idiot!” Douglas’s voice climbed to match hers.

  “You’re coming home with us and that’s final.”

  “No.”

  “You are pigheaded as a mule. Why can’t you just admit that you hate it here?”

  “You’re stubborn as an ox and about as bright. I am staying right here. And if you can’t accept that, you can ... you can go to the devil,” she finished, her voice climbing to something near to a shout.

  “Fine. I’m leaving but I’ll be back. I’m going to talk some sense into you if it’s the last thing I do.”

  “It very well may be.”

  Ignoring the threat implicit in her words, Douglas looked at his wife, who’d sat silently observing the battle of will between brother and sister. “Are you coming?”

  “Not right now,” she told him calmly. “I think I’ll finish my tea first. But you run along, dear, and I’ll see you later at the hotel.”

  The dismissal in her tone made Douglas grind his teeth together. For a moment, Lila thought he might snatch his wife up and carry her off, but then he spun on his heel and stormed out of the kitchen. A few seconds later the front door slammed behind him.

  “Would you like some tea?” Susan asked as calmly as if the scene had never happened.

  “Thank you.” Lila attacked the already kneaded dough, pummeling it viciously, working out her frustration on the resilient lump. At the other end of the table, Susan poured her a cup of tea, added a spoonful of sugar to it and stirred it, all without the least sign of agitation.

  “As you may have already guessed, this visit was my idea,” she said when Lila had ceased abusing the bread dough. “I know how much Douglas hates the idea of there being any sort of gap between you.”

  “He doesn’t seem to have much interest in closing that gap,” Lila said sharply. She shaped the mound of dough into a smooth ball and settled it in a greased bowl to rise.

  “This has been very difficult for him,” Susan said.

  “It hasn’t exactly been easy for me,” Lila snapped. She covered the dough with a towel made from a flour sack and turned to look at her sister-in-law. “I’m the one who had my whole life turned upside down. Douglas didn’t have to move thousands of miles away and leave behind everything he knew. Douglas didn’t find himself stepfather to two children he didn’t even know existed. Not that I’d trade Gavin and Angel for anything in the world,” she added quickly. “I have no regrets about them.”

  “I can understand that,” Susan said. “They do seem like very nice children. We were surprised when you wrote to tell us about them. Bishop had never mentioned being married before.”

  “The first I knew of it was when he showed up with the children in tow.”

  “You must have been furious.” Susan took a sip of tea.

  “I was upset,” Lila admitted. She was faintly surprised to remember just how angry she’d been. Gavin and Angel had become such an integral part of her life that she couldn’t imagine life without them. She took off her apron and draped it over the back of a chair. Choosing a seat, she settled across the table from her sister-in-law and picked up her cup. “Bishop didn’t plan on bringing them with us to Colorado, you know. But when he saw how unhappy they were, he wouldn’t leave them with their grandmother.”

  “Admirable.”

  “He cares a great deal for them, though I’m not sure Gavin has figured that out yet,” Lila admitted, thinking of the tension between the two of them. “I think the main problem is that they’re both as stubborn and strong-willed as mules.”

  Susan smiled fleetingly. “A trait they share with your brother.”

  “And their father.” Lila brushed a lock of hair back from her forehead, suddenly aware of being profoundly tired. She hadn’t slept much the night before. Instead, she’d watched the moonlight paint drifting patterns across the ceiling and thought about the many twists and turns her life had taken lately. Sometime after she heard the mantel clock chime midnight, Bishop had reached out, sliding one arm beneath her and pulling her against him. She’d curled into his hold, her head on his shoulder, her body pressed to his, drawing such comfort from his nearness that she forgot all about her disapproval of his lack of sleeping attire.

  “Douglas just wants you to be happy,” Susan said, interrupting Lila’s thoughts.

  “I know that,” Lila admitted with an unhappy sigh. “I suppose, after everything I’ve done, I should be grateful that he cares at all. But I’m not a child for him to order about. I’m a married woman with a home and two children who depend on me. I can’t desert them, even if I wanted to.”

  “And Bishop?” Susan probed gently. “What about Bishop?”

  “Bishop.” Lila stood up and went to check on the rising bread as if the yeast might suddenly have sprung to mad, impetuous life and caused it to overflow the bowl in a matter of minutes. It hadn’t done anything of the sort, of course, but she needed a moment to gather her thoughts. What about Bishop? Such a simple question but she didn’t know the answer.

  “Are you happy, Lila?” Susan asked when Lila didn’t respond to the first question.

  �
��Yes.” She was surprised by how easily the answer came. Turning to look at Susan, Lila smoothed one hand over her stomach, unconsciously seeking reassurance from her unborn child. “Yes, I am happy. I suppose that’s hard for you to believe, considering the circumstances.”

  “No.” Susan reached for the teapot and refreshed her cup. She smiled at Lila, her eyes gleaming with an endearing touch of mischief. “I know it’s bad manners to remind you, but I did tell you that I thought you and Bishop could have a good marriage. He’s a good man.”

  “Yes, he is,” Lila said, and knew it was true. “Though he certainly can be very annoying.”

  Susan waved one hand dismissively. “That goes without saying. He’s a man, and they can’t help but be annoying sometimes.”

  Laughing a little, Lila sat back down at the table and reached for her lukewarm tea. “I’ll keep that in mind next time Bishop makes me so mad that I want to forget all about being a lady and kick him in the shins.”

  “His shins are bound to be harder than your toes. You’d only hurt yourself.”

  Lila’s laughter came more easily this time. “You’re probably right.”

  Susan’s smile faded and she reached across the table, touching the back of Lila’s hand. “All Douglas wants—all we both want—is to be sure you’re happy. And if Bishop makes you happy, I’ll see to it that Douglas doesn’t cause any trouble.”

  If Bishop made her happy? Lila stared at Susan, struck by the other woman’s assumption that Bishop was responsible for her contentment. It was a ridiculous idea. She’d only be happy because of him if she loved him. Which she didn’t. Of course she didn’t. Did she? Good heavens, she couldn’t love him. Not when she had no clue at all as to what he felt about her.

  ***

  Bishop wasn’t at all surprised when Douglas strode into the jail like a man bent on starting a war. On some level, he’d known this confrontation was inevitable. There was too much left unsaid between them. Bart Lewis had been dozing in a straightback chair tilted back against the wall. Douglas’s entrance startled him awake, and the chair’s front legs hit the floor with teeth jarring suddenness. He blinked blearily at Douglas, looking like a sleepy bird surprised in its nest. Bishop took a moment to hope that Bart never found himself in a situation where his life depended on quick thinking.

  “It’s almost noon,” Bishop told his deputy. “Why don’t you go get yourself some lunch?”

  “You want I should bring you back something?” Bart asked as he rose and slouched his way to the door.

  “Thanks but I think I’ll go home for lunch today, say hello to my wife.” This last was added solely for Douglas’s benefit, and he immediately regretted giving into the childish impulse to pour salt in what was obviously still an open wound. Bart looked vaguely surprised but didn’t comment, for which Bishop was grateful. The deputy nodded to Douglas and left, picking up his hat on the way out the door.

  “What can I do for you, Douglas?” Bishop asked, rising from his chair and circling the desk. “You’re not here to report a crime, I hope?”

  “I’m taking Lila home with me,” Douglas said, ignoring the baiting question.

  Bishop went still as he considered the implications of Douglas’s statement. Had Lila said she wanted to go back to Pennsylvania? A few days ago that might not have surprised him, but he thought things had changed between them. Last night she’d turned into his arms as if there were nowhere else she’d rather be.

  “Lila is home,” he said quietly.

  “No, she’s not. This dusty collection of shabby buildings is no place for a lady. I know it and Lila knows it. She’s just too pigheaded to admit it.”

  So this wasn’t Lila’s idea. Bishop felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his chest. She hadn’t gone to her brother and begged him to take her back to Pennsylvania.

  “You didn’t come here to ask me to insist that Lila leave with you, did you? That doesn’t seem a real likely thing for me to do, does it?” he asked.

  “No, I guess it doesn’t,” Douglas said with undisguised bitterness. “I had the wild idea that I might appeal to your better instincts. I should have known better.”

  Bishop’s jaw tightened but he refused to rise to the bait. “She’s my wife.”

  “I know that,” Douglas snapped, biting off the words as if they left a foul taste in his mouth. “And I know you’ve every right to keep her here.”

  “Keep her here?” Bishop thrust his fingers through his hair and tightened his grip on his temper. “You make it sound like I’ve locked her in one of the cells back there.”

  “She might be safer there!” Douglas strode to the window and glared out at the quiet street. “This is no place for a lady, Bishop, and you know it. Look at it. It’s nothing but dirt and false front buildings. This isn’t the kind of life she’s used to.”

  “She seems to be adapting pretty well,” Bishop said stiffly. Damn him for knowing just where to strike. How many times had he seen Lila walk down that same street and thought that she looked like a hothouse rose plunked down in a bed of cactus?

  “Lila’s stubborn. She won’t give up easily. But do you honestly think she’ll be happy here?” Douglas didn’t wait for an answer but continued, digging the knife in a little deeper. “You said yourself that there’s not a decent doctor within reach. What if she needs medical care?”

  Bishop had no answer. It was one of the realities of life on a frontier where doctors were few and far between. When Bishop didn’t say anything, Douglas’s temper snapped. “My God, man, isn’t it enough that you treated her like a whore? Must you put her life in danger, as well?”

  Bishop was across the jail before Douglas finished speaking. He caught a fistful of the other man’s shirt, jerking him forward until only inches separated them. “If I ever hear you use that word in connection with my wife again, I’ll kill you with my bare hands, brother or no.”

  Douglas flattened his hands against Bishop’s shoulders and shoved him away. His eyes were bright with fury, his fair skin flushed with it. “Fine words from the man who ruined her,” he said with a snarl. “I invited you into my home as a friend and you seduced an innocent girl and then just walked away. Didn’t it occur to you that there were obligations that went along with taking her virginity?”

  “It occurred to me but I thought she’d be better off without me.”

  “I can’t argue with you there,” Douglas said bitterly. He jerked his clothes into place with quick impatience.

  “There’s no point in going over this again,” Bishop said tiredly. “What’s done is done.”

  “That’s what you said at the wedding. It covers a lot of ground, doesn’t it? Is that supposed to make what you did all right, just because it’s done?”

  “If I could change things, I would.” But even as he said it, Bishop knew it was a lie. He wouldn’t change anything if it meant that Lila would no longer be a part of his life.

  Perhaps Douglas recognized the lie for what it was because his expression took on a new edge of contempt. “Everything worked out very nicely for you, didn’t it? You married a lady, got a mother for your children, someone to clean house and cook meals. Oh, yes, and someone to warm your bed. You certainly did get quite a bargain.”

  Bishop wondered if Douglas would feel better if he knew just how chilly his bed had been until recently, but he wasn’t about to discuss the intimate details of his marriage with his brother-in-law.

  “I’m not keeping Lila a prisoner here” was all he said. “But I’m sure as hell not going to hogtie her and put her on a train with you.”

  “I can see I’m wasting my time,” Douglas said.

  “I guess you are.”

  Douglas started to say something more but, before he got a word out, they both heard the unmistakable report of a gunshot. Bishop was moving before the echo had faded. When he first came to Paris, stray gunshots were not uncommon occurrences. He’d soon put a stop to the casual dispensing of bullets. Other than his enco
unter with Dobe Lang, it had been months since anyone had fired a gun in town.

  “Stay here,” he told Douglas on his way out of the jail. Douglas ignored him, of course, following him out onto the boardwalk. Bishop didn’t have to guess as to where the shot had been fired. People were gathering at the far end of the street, surrounding a figure lying on the ground. Cursing under his breath, Bishop lengthened his stride. Just what he needed. Some damned fool had probably shot himself in the foot, which would just serve to add fuel to Douglas’s arguments...

  His stride faltered, his thoughts fragmenting momentarily when he caught a glimpse of pale-yellow cotton spread across the dusty street. Lila had a dress just that color. Every time he saw her wear it, he thought that it looked as if the cloth had been woven of pure sunlight. There must be a hundred dresses that color, he thought. It couldn’t be Lila—

  Even as he broke into a run, he heard Angel’s voice rise on a shriek of pure terror. “Mama!”

  CHAPTER 21

  Bishop offered no apologies as he shoved his way through the small crowd. As he stepped past the last person blocking his view, he saw his worst fears realized. Lila lay on the street, her skirts pooled around her like a spill of sunshine. He wanted desperately to believe that she’d just fainted. But the ominous red stain that had crept across her shoulder made that impossible.

  Bishop dropped to his knees. Angel knelt on Lila’s other side, her small hands tugging at Lila’s arm, her voice rising on a shrill crescendo of fear, repeating the word “Mama” again and again.

  “Oh, my God.” Douglas’s words were more prayer than blasphemy.

  “Take Angel,” Bishop ordered without looking at him. He set his fingers against Lila’s throat, seeking a pulse. He found it, reassuringly steady and strong. He was only vaguely aware of Douglas stepping over his sister’s body and scooping Angel up into his arms. She struggled against him, screaming hysterically. Douglas tightened his arms around her, stilling her struggles with gentle force, murmuring meaningless words of comfort that had no effect.