Gunfighter's Bride by Dallas Schulze
THE SUNLIGHT SPILLED INTO THE CHURCH BEHIND HIM CREATING A BRILLIANT GOLD PATH UP THE AISLE, A PATH HE STRODE LIKE AN AVENGING ANGEL DESCENDING FROM HEAVEN ABOVE....
Lila Adams stood before the minister, a vision shrouded in a veil of white lace, a bride, about to pledge her troth to a man she didn't love. Then he, the devil in dusty clothes, marched into her wedding and burned all the bridges she'd so carefully crossed. "You want to know who I am?" he asked, in a voice as cool and hard as his eyes. "I'm the father of the child she's carrying."
It was too late to turn back. Suddenly Bishop McKenzie was her husband: the tall, terse Westerner who seized her at the altar with righteous wrath. She tried to deny shameful memories of abandon in his arms, even as she refused to let him leave her--or touch her--again. But she hadn't reckoned on the stranger she married, or the passions that had already betrayed her in his dangerous, seductive arms....
“I DON’T WANT YOU TO KISS ME AGAIN, THE WAY YOU DID LAST NIGHT,” SHE SAID TIGHTLY.
He trailed his hand down her neck and set the pad of his thumb over the pulse at the base of her throat.
“Are you afraid of me?” he asked softly.
“Certainly not!” Though it had been pride that dictated her quick answer, it was also the truth. She was frightened by the ease with which he could make her lose control, but she wasn’t afraid of him. Somewhere inside, she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. And despite her protestations to the contrary, she knew he wouldn’t force her to do anything she didn’t want to do. That was the problem. He could make her want to do things she shouldn’t.
“Then why is your pulse beating so fast?” He was so close that she could feel his breath against her forehead. Lila stared into his eyes, mesmerized by their clarity. “Maybe the problem isn’t that you don’t want me to kiss you. Maybe it’s that you do,” he whispered.
Published by Dell Publishing a division of
Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc.
1540 Broadway
New York, New York 10036
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
Copyright © 1996 by Dallas Schulze
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law.
The trademark Dell® is registered in the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office.
ISBN: 0-440-21466-1
Printed in the United States of America
Published simultaneously in Canada
January 1996
CHAPTER 1
Happy is the bride the sun shines on.
Lila watched dust motes floating through a beam of sunlight that had found its way through one of the high windows of the church. The thin swath of light fell directly in front of the minister, creating a tiny golden path on the polished wooden floor. If she slid her foot forward just a few inches, the sunbeam would fall across the toe of her satin slipper. Maybe that’s all it would take to make the promise in the old saying true. Maybe if the sun was literally shining on her, she’d be happy, the way a bride was supposed to be.
A half smile trembled on her mouth. It was too bad things couldn’t be that simple. When she was a child, a sunny day had been enough to make her happy. But she wasn’t a child anymore and it would take considerably more than a little sunshine to put her world right. Like being able to turn back the clock.
Just three months ago, she’d been in this same church for another wedding. Her brother, Douglas, had been getting married, and Lila had watched the ceremony through eyes stinging with tears of joy. She’d been so happy for him, so pleased that he’d found someone to love. And she’d dreamed of her own wedding, seen herself in a veil of white lace, her family and friends filling the church behind her, her hand resting on a strong male arm.
Everything was just the way she’d imagined it. Her veil was made of bobbin lace so fine it seemed as if it must have been woven by faerie fingers rather than human hands. The fine white lace lay over the deep auburn of her hair like snow on fire. The small church she’d attended all her life was filled with family and friends, people she’d known since childhood. And the arm beneath her fingers was definitely male and solid as a rock. Yes, she had everything she’d dreamed of three months ago. The irony of that memory was so powerful that it was all she could do to keep from laughing out loud. She’d forgotten to wish for the one thing that would have given the picture real meaning.
She’d forgotten to wish for love.
“Marriage is a lifelong commitment,” Reverend Carpenter was saying. “A man and a woman are joined together by God, bound by the vows of matrimony. Vows that will last the rest of their lives, making them one in the eyes of the Lord.”
The words struck Lila with the force of blows. A lifelong commitment. That was what she was making. The rest of her life would be inextricably linked to Logan Sinclair, bound by the vows they were about to exchange. Panic swept through her.
Suddenly light-headed, she swayed. Reverend Carpenter’s speech stumbled to a halt as Logan’s arm came around her waist, steadying her. He lowered his head, his brown eyes dark with concern.
“Are you all right?” he asked quietly.
Was she all right? Lila felt a hysterical bubble of laughter rise in her throat. He, of all people, knew the answer to that question. But she knew what he was asking. She swallowed hard and forced her mouth to curve in a thin parody of a smile.
“I’m fine,” she told him, the lie nearly choking her. “I just felt a little dizzy for a moment. I... didn’t eat much breakfast.”
She was aware of the barely audible buzz of concern and curiosity rising from the guests. In another moment, Douglas would be out of his seat and coming forward to see what the delay was, his green eyes, so like her own, dark with worry. And if that happened, Lila was afraid she’d throw herself into her brother’s arms, confessing the whole wretched truth and begging him to make everything right, the way he’d always been able to do when she was a child. But she wasn’t a child anymore and there wasn’t anything Douglas could do to make things right this time.
“Please continue with the ceremony,” she told the minister, forcing another smile.
Please continue before I change my mind.
Reverend Carpenter cleared his throat, his thin mouth compressed with irritation. He prided himself on his skill as an orator and he did not appreciate being interrupted in the midst of what he considered one of his better efforts. He cleared his throat again and cast Lila a disapproving look before continuing his one-sided discussion of the responsibilities of holy matrimony.
Lila tried to listen to what he was saying. After all, she was marrying Logan and she had every intention of being a good wife to him. She would do everything in her power to make sure that he never had cause to regret this day. She owed him that and more. Stealing a sideways look at his face, she felt a pang of regret for what she was doing to him. He deserved better than this. But she had no choice. She was doing the only thing she could.
She’d make it up to him, she promised herself. Focusing her eyes firmly on the minister’s face, she tried to listen to what he was saying.
“Marriage is not about joy, though joy may be found within its bonds. But joy cannot be the solitary goal of a marriage. Nay, it must not be a goal at all,” the reverend intoned solemnly.
Well, they coul
d meet that requirement, Lila thought with a touch of hysterical humor. Joy was certainly not one of their primary goals in making this marriage.
“Marriage is about duty.” The minister’s voice boomed out sternly. “A man’s duty to provide for his family. A wife’s duty—”
But before he could tell the assemblage just what a wife’s duty might be, there was another interruption.
The sharp thud of boot heels hitting the wooden slats of the entryway was clearly audible. An instant later, the tall double doors were thrust open with force enough to knock them back against the walls on either side and sunlight spilled into the church. Heads craned as the guests gaped at the figure in the doorway. The bride and groom turned toward the disturbance and Lila’s fingers suddenly dug deep into Logan’s arm, her knees going weak under her.
Reverend Carpenter’s speech came to an abrupt halt, and, for an instant, the church was quiet as a tomb. The silence stretched for the space of several seconds, giving Lila a chance to contemplate the magnitude of the disaster standing in the doorway. She wanted desperately to turn and run, to find a place to hide. But she could only stand there, clinging to Logan, her head swimming with shock.
“A late arrival, I see,” the reverend said, recovering his equilibrium and anxious to assert his authority. “If you’ll find a seat, sir.”
But no one really believed that the man now walking up the aisle was simply a late arrival. The sunlight spilled into the church behind him, creating a brilliant golden path up the aisle, a path he strode like an avenging angel descending from heaven above. Lila wished that was exactly what was happening. Better an angel to smite her for her sins than the devil in dusty clothes walking toward her now.
There was a buzz of whispers as some of the guests recognized him and whispered to those who didn’t. A man like Bishop McKenzie was not easily forgotten.
Booted and spurred and covered with dust, he looked as out of place in the tidy little Pennsylvania church as a wolf at a teaparty. The guests watched, breathless with curiosity as he strode up the aisle, looking neither right nor left. The air fairly crackled with the tension of a drama in the making.
Douglas Adams rose as Bishop neared the front of the church, stepping into the aisle to face the other man. A quick rush of whispers reminded those who might have forgotten that Bishop McKenzie had saved Douglas’s life a few months ago, as well as that of his soon-to-be bride, Susan. As the story went, Douglas and Susan had been facing sure death at the hands of the ruffians who’d held up the stage in which they were riding. With the driver already dead, there had been nothing to stop the thieves from killing Douglas and doing something unspeakable to Susan when Bishop had suddenly appeared from out of nowhere. Some said he’d dispatched half a dozen of the murderers with an equal number of bullets, but there were those who claimed the cowards had simply fled upon finding themselves confronting an armed man.
Whatever the truth was, there was no doubt that a friendship had developed between the two men. It was an unlikely combination—Douglas Adams of the Philadelphia Adamses and Bishop McKenzie of nowhere in particular. But Douglas had invited Bishop to come East for his wedding and to stay with the family for as long as he liked, and Bishop had accepted the invitation. For the few days he’d been in Beaton, the tall westerner had been the source of considerable speculation. The word “gunfighter” had been mentioned, and there was something in the cool steadiness of his gaze that had given weight to the speculation. More than one female heart had beat faster at the sight of those broad shoulders and ice-blue eyes. There might even have been one or two foolish enough to set their caps for him if he hadn’t left abruptly the day after the wedding. Everyone had assumed they’d seen the last of him.
But here he was, striding through the church and creating ripples of questions and speculation with every step.
“Bishop.” Douglas’s greeting held both question and confusion. “We weren’t expecting you.”
“I don’t suppose you were.” Bishop’s eyes cut past him to Lila. She nearly whimpered aloud as that fierce blue gaze seemed to cut right through her. “I need to talk to your sister.”
“Lila?” Douglas’s bewilderment was reflected in his eyes but Bishop wasn’t interested in offering explanations. Stepping past Douglas, he stopped in front of the bridal couple.
Lila stared up at him. All the color had drained from her face, leaving the green of her eyes to stand out in vivid contrast to the milk white of her skin.
“Call it off,” Bishop told her quietly.
“I don’t know who you are but I think you should either take a seat or leave.” Logan’s tone made it clear which of the two he’d prefer. He’d been in Europe three months ago and had missed Douglas’s wedding so he hadn’t met Bishop then.
“Stay out of this,” Bishop said, barely glancing at the other man. His eyes pinned Lila where she stood. “Call it off,” he told her again.
She was trembling like a leaf in a high wind but she managed to shake her head in refusal.
“What the devil do you think you’re doing, Bishop?” Douglas had come forward, his open features darkening with anger. “This is my sister’s wedding, for God’s sake.”
“I know what it is. She’s not marrying him.” Bishop jerked his head toward Logan, his eyes never leaving Lila. “Call it off. Now.”
Dizzy with fear, her mind spinning with the implications of his arrival, Lila shook her head again.
“Go away,” she whispered, knowing he wasn’t going to do anything of the kind. She’d never, in her worst nightmares, imagined anything like this happening.
“Maybe we should talk about this somewhere less public,” Susan Adams suggested as she joined the little group at the front of the church. “I think we’ve provided enough entertainment for one morning.” “No!” Lila’s voice was choked. She felt hysteria rise inside her, like a bird beating frantic wings against the bars of a cage. “There’s nothing to talk about. I’m getting married.”
With an effort, she dragged her eyes from Bishop’s and spun around to face Reverend Carpenter, who was staring at the sudden crowd in front of his altar in growing indignation. He was not accustomed to having his thunder stolen in his own church.
“Go on with the ceremony,” she said, her voice high and tight. “Go on.”
“I don’t believe—”
But Bishop cut into the minister’s angry words. “Call it off, Lila.” His hand closed over her arm, turning her back to face him. “If you don’t do it, by God, I will.” His voice was low and hard, his eyes a sharp, angry blue.
Douglas spoke before she could say anything. “Have you lost your mind, Bishop?”
At the same time, Logan grabbed Bishop’s arm, jerking his fingers from Lila’s arm. “Get your hands off of her!”
Bishop didn’t so much as glance at him. His eyes remained locked with Lila’s and what she read in them made her feel faint. He knew, she thought. She didn’t see how it was possible, but he knew. Somehow he’d found out the truth, and he’d come East to stop her wedding to Logan.
“Please,” she whispered, hardly knowing what she was asking. For him to leave, for time to spin backward, for the world to be the way it had been before she met him. “Please.”
She thought she saw something flicker in his eyes— regret, perhaps. And for one tiny moment, she dared to hope that he was going to turn and walk away, that he’d leave her to put the pieces of her life back together in the only way she could.
“Who the devil are you?” Logan demanded.
The challenge in the other man’s question made the hint of softness in Bishop’s expression disappear, and Lila knew, with a feeling of despair, that he had no intention of walking away. He looked at her a moment longer, giving her one final chance to control what was about to happen, but she could only stare at him, her eyes begging him for a mercy she already knew he wasn’t going to show.
When she didn’t say anything, Bishop looked at Logan.
“
You want to know who I am?” he asked, in a voice as cool and hard as his eyes. “I’m the father of the child she’s carrying.”
CHAPTER 2
Though Bishop pitched his voice low, the minister stood too close to miss hearing what he’d said. In the stunned silence that followed the announcement, the hiss of Reverend Carpenter’s shocked gasp seemed to echo like thunder. That small sound spelled a death knell for any hope Lila might have had of keeping her condition a secret. The good reverend’s skill as an orator was easily outstripped by his talent for gossip. By the end of the day, the entire town would be buzzing with the news that Lila Adams was with child and that Logan Sinclair was not the father.
Lila would have given a great deal to have been able to die right there and then. Failing that, she would have settled for fainting. But neither blessing was granted her. She remained alive and painfully conscious.
Logan was the first to recover. His eyes flashed with hot rage. He took a quick step forward, his right hand lashing out. He was a big man, as tall as Bishop and nearly as broad through the shoulders. The punch he threw was backed by muscle and powered by anger. If it had connected, it almost certainly would have broken the other man’s jaw. But Bishop had the reflexes of a cat. He jerked back reflexively and Logan’s fist caught him a glancing blow, rocking him back on his heels and splitting his lower lip but doing no serious damage.
“Bastard!” Logan moved to continue the attack but Douglas stepped between the two men, catching his arm.
“For God’s sake, man, remember where you are!” The reminder did nothing to soften the rage in Logan’s eyes.
“If you knew what he did to Lila, it wouldn’t matter where we were.”
“Logan!” Lila’s voice was shrill with panic. She hadn’t thought things could get any worse, but she’d just realized that they could. Her fingers dug into the fabric of Logan’s coat. “Please don’t say anything more. It’s not his fault.”
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