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Authors: Gunfighter's Bride

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“Did it occur to you to speak to me before taking it upon yourself
to write to him?” Lila asked, anger flaring anew.

“I was going to but then you and Logan announced that you were
getting married. Perhaps I should still have said something but you were so
determined to rush the wedding through and I wasn’t even sure I could reach
Bishop.”

“The problem was solved. I wasn’t going to bring shame on the
family by bearing a child out of wedlock. There wouldn’t have been any scandal.
I can’t believe you prefer
this!”
Lila swept out one arm in a gesture
that encompassed the whole situation, including the debacle at the church and
the rumors that were surely racing through town with the speed of a wildfire,
Reverend Carpenter’s breath fanning the flames. “If you’d left well enough
alone, no one would have known any of this. I had everything arranged. No one
would have been hurt.”

“What about Logan?” Susan asked quietly.

“I didn’t lie to him.”

“Didn’t you?” Susan raised one delicately arched brow in question.
The ugly word “rape” hung, unspoken, in the air between them. Lila flushed,
feeling like a child caught out in a lie. Susan had the same gentle
implacability that had characterized Lila’s mother. She had the ability to make
Lila feel like little more than a child. It was easy to forget that there was
only four years difference in their ages.

“I didn’t lie about the baby,” Lila corrected herself sullenly.
“Logan is a doctor. I
couldn’t
very well lie to him, even if I wanted
to. Which I didn’t. Marriage was his idea, not mine.”

“I’m sure it was. Logan cares for you.” Susan frowned. “I am a
little puzzled as to why you felt you could tell him about your ... situation
and yet you couldn’t tell your brother and me the truth. Surely you know
Douglas would never have turned his back on you.”

“I know that.” Lila smoothed her fingers over a crease in her
dove-gray skirt. “I didn’t intend to tell Logan about... about my situation.”
Ridiculous
that even now, she couldn’t bring herself to say the words out loud!
“I
didn’t intend to tell anyone.”

Susan’s pale brows rose. “You surely didn’t think you could keep
something like that a secret for very long. There
are
signs when a woman
is—”

“I’m not completely without sense, despite recent evidence to the
contrary.” Lila’s tone was more weary than angry. “I had decided to go away.
Someplace where no one knew me. I thought I could say I was a widow, perhaps
find a job teaching. You needn’t look at me as if doubting my sanity,” she said
in answer to the look in Susan’s eyes. “I know it was a ridiculous idea. But it
was the only thing I could think of. Obviously, I couldn’t stay here in Beaton.
I was trying to avoid a scandal.” Her mouth twisted with bitter humor.

“Did you go to Logan for help with this idea of moving away? Is
that how he found out?”

“Logan came by to see Douglas shortly after I’d realized that I
was ... that I had to do something. The two of you were in Philadelphia that
week, and I’d had nothing to do but think of the situation in which I’d found
myself. Poor Logan made the mistake of asking if I was feeling all right, and I
burst into tears.”

She’d never forget Logan’s shocked expression. But he rallied
immediately, drawing her into his arms and holding her as she cried. He didn’t
speak until the initial flood of tears had started to subside.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he said quietly. And Lila, who had already
determined that she could never, ever tell anyone what was wrong, found the
truth spilling out. Not the whole truth, certainly. She’d refused to tell him
who had fathered her child. And when he’d assumed she’d been forced, she’d been
too weak to correct him. It hadn’t seemed to matter at the time.

It had been such a relief to be able to talk to someone about it.
Maybe it was the fact that Logan was a doctor that made it possible for her to
tell him. Or maybe it was that, while he was nearly a brother to her, he wasn’t
actually her brother. Whatever the reason, she’d outlined her half-formed plans
for moving away and seeking employment.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he’d snapped and Lila’s eyes welled.

“But I have to do something. The scandal... I can’t... I have to
leave.”

“There’s not going to be any scandal.” Logan caught her restless
hands in his. “And you don’t have to go away, at least not for very long.
You’re going to marry me.”

Lila felt her eyes sting at the memory of his unselfishness. She’d
argued with him. She couldn’t let him sacrifice his life. There had to be
another way. But there hadn’t been another way, short of throwing herself in
the river, and she was not quite ready for that. Logan’s calm determination had
overwhelmed every one of her protests. And maybe she hadn’t protested quite as
much as she might have, Lila admitted now. She’d wanted so desperately to be
convinced that this was the right thing to do.

“I care for Logan,” she told Susan now. “That’s more than some
marriages start out with. If you hadn’t interfered, we would have been happy.”
She was uneasily aware that her words sounded more defiant than confident.

“Perhaps.” Susan moved over to the fireplace. After lifting a log
from beside the hearth, she set it on the fire, which had begun to bum down.
Then, dusting her hands together, she turned to look at Lila, her expression
pensive. “Did you give any thought to the idea that, when you married Logan,
you were taking away his chance to find a woman who really loves him?”

Susan’s tone was gently questioning, offering no reproach, but
Lila found herself looking away. She had given a great deal of thought to what
Logan might be giving up by marrying her. But she hadn’t been able to see any
other way out of her dilemma.

“If you were so concerned about Logan’s future happiness, why
didn’t you simply tell Douglas the truth right away?” Lila asked, aware that
her tone verged on sullen.

“I didn’t know if my letter would reach Bishop in time.”

“You mean, you didn’t know if he’d care that I was having his
child.”

“I knew he’d care. I knew he’d get here if he could. If I couldn’t
reach him, marrying Logan was certainly better than the alternative.”

“You have a great deal more faith in Bishop than I do,” Lila said.

“I think I know him a good deal better.” Susan moved away from the
fireplace. Her skirts rustled around her as she sat down on the edge of the
bed. She tilted her head, her mouth quirking in a half smile. “That may sound
odd, considering... well, considering the situation, but I think it’s the
truth.”

Lila didn’t doubt that it was. No one could know Bishop
less
well than she did.

“Why don’t you sit down, dear,” Susan said, patting the bed beside
her.

“I’m quite comfortable standing, thank you.”

Susan sighed but didn’t repeat the invitation. “Last summer, when
your brother and I met, it was on a stagecoach traveling through Arizona
Territory. It’s hardly a pleasant way to travel to begin with but, to make
matters worse, our stagecoach was set upon by thieves. They killed the driver
outright and would probably have killed Douglas and me also, if it hadn’t been
for Bishop McKenzie. He—”

“I know what he did,” Lila interrupted. “He rode out of the desert
like some knight on a white charger and dispatched the villains in a hail of
bullets.”

That story had been a big part of what had attracted her to Bishop
in the first place. When he’d arrived for the wedding, she’d been prepared to
offer him her gratitude for having saved Douglas’s life. But instead of the
half-tamed ruffian she’d been expecting, she’d found herself being introduced
to a man who made her heart beat faster with nothing more than a look. The cool
disinterest in his eyes had been a challenge. She was not accustomed to having
a man—any man—look at her as if he barely saw her. She’d set out to make him
notice her. And she’d certainly succeeded, she thought with bitter humor.

“I’m aware of the debt of gratitude this family owes him for
saving your lives,” Lila said flatly. Linking her hands together in front of
her to conceal their trembling, she met Susan’s eyes. “Douglas told me the
whole story when he returned home.”

“Did he?” Susan looked thoughtful. “Did he tell you that, once the
villains were driven off, the three of us were left alone in the middle of the
desert with only Bishop’s horse between us? If it hadn’t been for Bishop’s
knowledge of the desert, the land would have accomplished what the thieves had
failed to do. It took us nearly a week to walk to the nearest town.”

“That’s when you and Douglas fell in love,” Lila finished
impatiently, beyond caring that she was behaving like an ill-mannered brat. She
wasn’t in the mood to hear a rehash of old history. The china clock on the
mantel seemed to be ticking louder than it ever had, reminding her that time
was passing. At any moment, Bishop might knock on her door—if he bothered to
knock at all.

“That’s when Douglas and I fell in love,” Susan confirmed,
ignoring Lila’s rudeness. “But I also had a chance to get to know your
husband.”

Lila flinched at the word. Despite the wedding band that weighted
her finger out of all proportion to its size, she couldn’t even begin to think
of Bishop as her husband.

“I don’t mean to be rude.” Another lie. She seemed to be telling a
lot of them today, Lila thought bitterly. “But I’m really not in the mood to
hear what a wonderful man I’ve married and how terribly happy we’re going to
be. I’d really like to be alone, if you don’t mind.”

Lila half expected Susan to depart on a wave of indignation, and
she would almost have welcomed it. She was not in the mood for sympathy or
reason. But if Susan was annoyed by her blatant rudeness, she didn’t let it
show—another way in which her sister-in-law reminded her of her mother.
Margaret Adams had considered strong emotional displays the essence of bad
manners.
A lady is always restrained. It’s up to us to set an example for
the stronger sex. No matter how upset you are, you must show a calm façade to
the world.
Lila had spent her whole life trying—and failing—to live up to
her mother’s ideal of ladylike behavior, an ideal that seemed to come
effortlessly to Susan.

She rose, shaking out the china-blue silk skirt of her dress. Her
expression reflected nothing but compassion for the younger woman. “I know the
circumstances are less than ideal, but I think you and Bishop could have a good
marriage. You must have been attracted to one another. He’s a good man, Lila.
He may seem hard and unapproachable but there’s a gentleness inside him. And a
strength you can lean on, if you’ll let yourself.”

The last thing Lila needed or wanted was a recitation of Bishop
McKenzie’s wonderful qualities. Not when all she could think of was that he
might be climbing the stairs at this very moment, expecting to spend the night
with his bride.

“If you were so taken with him, I’m surprised you didn’t marry him
instead of Douglas,” she snapped, making no effort to conceal her anger.

There was a brief, uncomfortable silence and then Susan sighed.
“I’ll leave you alone. Just think about what I’ve said.”

Lila stayed where she was, staring unseeingly at the delicate
china clock. The door closed quietly behind Susan and Lila’s shoulders slumped.
She’d behaved badly. She knew it, knew also that she owed her sister-in-law an
apology. No matter how upset she was about Susan writing to Bishop, she could
have handled it better.
There’s never an excuse for bad manners.
How
many times had she heard her mother say that? Apparently it hadn’t been enough.

She half turned toward the door, thinking to go after Susan, but
she’d taken no more than a step when her glance fell on the bed. She stopped,
the need for apologies forgotten.

Bishop. Just what did he have in mind for tonight?

***

Bishop inhaled one last lungful of smoke before dropping the
cigarette on the ground and grinding it out with the toe of his boot. The night
air was chilly and he was grateful for the warmth of the coat Susan had
suggested he take. Remembering the scene in the dining room, he smiled. Trust
Susan to worry about whether or not he was warm enough, no matter what the
circumstances. She was a born mother hen. Even in the midst of the desert, with
their odds of survival somewhere on a par with that of a snowball in hell,
she’d fussed over him and Douglas.

At the thought of Douglas, Bishop’s smile faded. In his entire
life, he’d known only a handful of men he was willing to call friend. Douglas
Adams had been one of them. If he’d given some thought to that friendship three
months ago, things might have turned out considerably different. But Douglas
had been the last thing on his mind that night.

Turning back the way he’d come, Bishop saw the big house laid out
at the bottom of the hill. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his
trousers, his eyes narrowing in memory. The house had blazed with light that
evening. It had been full of light and laughter. Everyone had been delighted to
celebrate Douglas and Susan’s wedding. He’d been pleased for them too but, as
he’d watched them swirl across the dance floor, their faces alight with
happiness, he’d been aware of a soul-deep loneliness. And then Lila had been
standing in front of him, her eyes sparkling with challenge, all but daring him
to ask her to dance.

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