Schulze, Dallas by Gunfighter's Bride Read Free Book Online Page B

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