Schulze, Dallas (8 page)

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am. You’re my husband.” Funny, how easy that word was to
say all of a sudden. “My place is with you.”

“Your place?” Bishop’s dark brows shot up in surprise at this
sudden display of wifely devotion. Lila flushed but she wasn’t going to give
in. She couldn’t.

“I won’t stay here,” she said flatly.

“Maybe he’s right,” Douglas said, though it clearly cost him to
agree with anything Bishop said. “Maybe you should stay here. You don’t know
what it’s like in the West, Lila. It’s no place for a lady, particularly one in
your delicate condition.” He cleared his throat, uncomfortable at having to
refer to her pregnancy.

“I’m sure women don’t stop having babies just because they’re
living west of the Mississippi.” Lila struggled to sound calm and reasonable,
not an easy thing when what she wanted to do was stamp her feet and shriek that
she wasn’t going to stay and nothing they said could make her. “I’m sure there
are doctors in the West.”

“Not many,” Bishop said. “And none to speak of in Paris.”

“Paris? As in Paris, France?”

“Spelled the same but that’s about the only resemblance. The miner
who laid out the town was French and he had big plans for the place. It’s just
a mining town. The closest thing we’ve got to a doctor is Zeke Doolin, who’s
the barber. He can do a pretty fair job of pulling a tooth or setting a broken
bone, but I don’t know about delivering a baby.”

“There must be women in this town,” Lila said, trying not to show
how much his words frightened her.

“There’s women.”

“And they must have babies.”

“A few,” he admitted reluctantly. “But—”

“I’m going with you. There’s no sense in arguing about it because
I’ve made up my mind.” She tilted her chin and looked at him, hoping she looked
calmly determined rather than just mulish.

Bishop met her look, his expression unreadable. He was wearing the
same clothes he’d worn to the church the day before—a plain white shirt and
black trousers tucked into a pair of knee-high black boots that had clearly
seen plenty of wear. The men Lila had known all her life would have looked
awkward and underdressed in such casual attire. But Bishop looked right at
home. All he needed was spurs and a gun on his hip and he could have stepped
right off the pages of a dime novel.

“I think Bishop is right,” Douglas said. “Clearly you’ll be better
off staying here where you can receive the proper care.”

“I’m not staying here.” Though Lila spoke to her brother, she
looked at Bishop. Much as it galled her to admit it, the final decision lay
with him. If he refused to take her with him, there wouldn’t be much she could
do about it. But she wouldn’t beg. “If it’s a matter of money, I can purchase
my own ticket.”

She was perversely pleased to see the quick flare of anger in
Bishop’s eyes.
“If
you were going with me, I would buy your ticket. But
you’re not going with me.”

“I think Lila is right.” Susan spoke for the first time. “I think
she should go.”

“You can’t mean that!” Douglas gave his wife a look of disbelief.
“You’ve been out there. You remember what it was like. You can’t seriously
think that a woman in Lila’s delicate condition belongs there.”

“I watched my mother carry eight children to term and I can assure
you that a woman in Lila’s condition isn’t nearly as delicate as men like to
believe. I’m sure she’d be just fine.”

“I don’t want her out there with no one but a... barber to take
care of her.”

“I understand your concern but you’re not looking at the whole
picture, Douglas,” Susan said calmly. “After the scene in the church yesterday,
gossip will be running wild, and we both know that Reverend Carpenter is not
noted for his discretion. Think about what it will be like for her if she stays
here.”

Bishop went still, his cup frozen halfway to his mouth as he
pictured exactly what Lila’s life would be like if she stayed here. He didn’t
know Beaton, Pennsylvania, but he knew small towns—east or west, they all had
some things in common. He finished lifting the cup and took a drink, swallowing
a curse along with the coffee. He’d had plenty of time last night to figure out
exactly how things would work, and taking his bride to Colorado with him hadn’t
been part of the plan.

“The gossip will die down after a while,” Douglas said, looking
less certain than he sounded. “The primary concern must be Lila’s safety. The
West is no place for a lady, let alone one who’s in the family way.”

“I’m not staying here,” Lila repeated, looking directly at Bishop.

It was crazy to take her. She had no idea what she was asking. But
she did know what life would be like if she stayed here. And so, unfortunately,
did he.

Bishop’s mouth thinned with irritation. “You’ve got until tomorrow
to pack whatever you want to take.”

Lila felt relief well up inside her. Whatever awaited her in the
vast and unknown West, it couldn’t be worse than what she knew she’d endure
here. For a moment, she felt almost warm toward her new husband. But then the
full import of his words sank in.

“Tomorrow? I can’t be ready by then. I’ll need at least a week.”

“Tomorrow.” Bishop tilted his head back and emptied his cup.

“Four days,” she bargained. “I can have the rest of my things
shipped later, but I can’t possibly be ready in less than four days.” That was
fair, she thought, reaching for one of the muffins Thomas had just carried in.
She’d meet him halfway. He couldn’t possibly expect more.

“Tomorrow. If you aren’t on the train with me, you’ll have to find
your own way to Colorado.” Bishop set his cup down on the table, nodded to

Douglas and Susan, and strode out of the dining room before Lila
could say anything more.

“He can’t be serious,” she said when she’d regained the breath
that shock had knocked from her.

“He looked very serious to me,” Susan said mildly.

“He can’t just leave without me.” Lila spread butter on a muffin,
wielding the knife with such force that the delicate little roll broke apart in
her fingers. She dropped it onto her plate but her fingers remained clenched
around the knife. The glitter in her eyes suggested that it was a good thing
Bishop was no longer in the room. “If he thinks to frighten me into rushing
through my packing, he can think again. He can wait until I’m ready to leave.”

“You don’t have to leave at all,” Douglas said. “I think you
should stay here.”

Susan’s eyes locked with Lila’s across the polished table. A
moment of silent communication passed between them.

“We can pack the basic necessities and ship everything else,”
Susan said as she pushed back her chair. Lila followed suit and the two women
hurried from the room, leaving Douglas sitting alone with the remnants of the
half-eaten meal.

***

The remainder of the day passed in a blur of sorting and packing.
Trunks were dragged down from the attic, dusted off, and filled in record time.
By the time Lila fell into bed, she was too tired to wonder where Bishop might
be spending the second night of their marriage.

The next morning, she was standing in the turmoil of what had been
her bedroom, giving the maids some last-minute instructions on the items to be
packed and shipped later when Thomas knocked.

“You have a visitor, Miss Lila,” he said when she answered the
door.

Lila gave a harassed look over her shoulder at the clock on the
mantel. In less than an hour, she was supposed to be ready to go to the train
station. She didn’t doubt that, if she wasn’t ready, Bishop would make good on
his threat to leave without her.

“I’m very busy, Thomas. Who is it?”

He lowered his voice. “It’s Mr. Sinclair, miss.”

“Logan?” Her head jerked around and she stared at him in surprise.
“Logan is downstairs?”

“He’s in the rose parlor, miss.”

“Thank you, Thomas.” She brushed past him, the packing momentarily
forgotten. She hadn’t expected to see Logan again. Even if there had been more
time, she’d assumed that he wouldn’t
want
to see her, after what she’d
done. Picking up her skirts in a way that would have horrified her mother, she
flew down the stairs. Slipping into the rose parlor, she turned and slid the
pocket doors shut behind her. She didn’t want anyone to interrupt them.

Logan had been standing in front of one of the windows, looking
out at the rose gardens, but he turned as she entered the room. They looked at
each other across the width of the room. But the real distance between them
were the events that had happened in the last forty-eight hours.

Lila clasped her hands together in front of her. She longed to go
to him and throw herself into his arms. Aside from Douglas, he was the person
who meant most to her. There had never been a time when Logan wasn’t a part of
her life—Douglas’s best friend, Billy's older brother, her own dear friend.
Looking at him now, she was struck by how differently things had turned out
from the way she’d always imagined they’d be.

“I wasn’t sure you’d see me,” Logan said stiffly.

“I didn’t think you’d
want
to see me ever again. Not that I
blamed you. I used you abominably. I was going to write and tell you how sorry
I was.”

“Yes, well...” Logan looked away. “It was something of a shock to
find you’d lied to me.”

“I’m so sorry.” Unable to bear the distance between them anymore,
Lila walked to him. Reaching out, she caught one of his hands between hers,
looking up at him pleadingly. “I never meant to hurt you, Logan. And I didn’t mean
to lie to you, either. But when you assumed I’d been ... forced, it was so easy
to let you believe it.”

“You could have told me the truth, Lila. I would still have
married you.”

“I know.” She blinked back tears. Her fingers tightened around his
hand. “I’ve always been able to count on you. I was just so ashamed. I don’t
have any right to ask it, but can you forgive me?”

Logan looked down at her. In his eyes, she saw the years of
memories they shared. He’d seen her grow from a freckle-faced child to a woman.
It had been Logan who’d told her about his brother’s death; Logan who’d held
her, urging her to cry out the pain of a hurt that went too deep for tears.
He’d always been there for her—more than a friend, not quite a brother—one of
the constants in her life. Other than Douglas, there was no one on earth she
wanted less to hurt. And no one she had hurt more.

His hand was not quite steady as he touched his fingertips to her
cheek. His dark eyes were serious and there was a rueful twist to his smile. “I
never could stay mad at you, brat.”

Lila felt as if a great weight had been lifted from her soul. She
smiled at him through tears of joy before stepping into his arms. With her
cheek pressed against the soft wool of his jacket, the world seemed to settle
in place again. “Oh, Logan, you’re my best friend in the world.”

She felt Logan stiffen and wondered if he’d changed his mind about
forgiving her. But when she looked up at him, he was looking over her head, his
expression so still and hard that she knew exactly what she’d see when she spun
around.

Bishop stood just inside the door, watching them. Lila could see
the scene as if through his eyes—she and Logan alone in the parlor, the doors
shut to insure privacy and her in the other man’s arms. A damning picture, to
say the least. Remembering his cool comment about making her a widow if he’d
arrived too late to stop the wedding, Lila felt her heart thump with sudden
fear. Though he wore no gun, it didn’t seem to lessen the danger Bishop
projected.

“It’s not the way it looks,” she said quickly. She moved toward
him, careful to keep herself between the two men.

Bishop let the silence stretch a moment longer, his gaze shifting
from her to Logan and back again.

“It looks like you’re saying good-bye to an old friend,” he said
calmly. He reached out and caught her hand, drawing her to his side. His arm
settled around her waist. His touch was light but there was no mistaking the
possessiveness of it. He nodded to Logan. “Sinclair.”

“McKenzie.”

If Bishop heard the dislike in Logan’s tone, he didn’t acknowledge
it. “It’s almost time to leave for the station,” he said, looking down at Lila.
“You’d better finish your good-byes.”

He released her, nodded again to Logan, and turned and left the
room, leaving Lila to stare after him in shocked disbelief. Clearly she had a
great deal to learn about the man she’d married.

***

As the train pulled away from the station, Lila strained for one
last glimpse of her brother’s tall figure. Saying good-bye to Douglas had been
one of the most difficult things she’d ever had to do. The strain that lay
between them hadn’t made it any easier. He’d hugged her and wished her a safe
journey but, beneath the love and concern, she’d seen the pain she’d caused
him, not only with her actions but with her lies. It was going to take time to
completely heal the rift between them.