Free Schulze, Dallas by Gunfighter's Bride

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.
    A curve in the track put the station—and Douglas—out of sight.
Lowering her head to conceal the sudden moisture in her eyes, Lila tugged at
the reticule in her lap but the strings were twisted together and resisted her
efforts to open the small bag. She fumbled with them, blinded by tears. A large
hand came into her line of vision. She blinked and stared at the snowy white
handkerchief being offered.
    Bishop. She’d been so wrapped up in her grief at saying good-bye
to her brother that she’d almost managed to forget that she wasn’t alone.
Stupid, really, considering the fact that, if it hadn’t been for the man seated
across from her, she wouldn’t have had to say good-bye