Saving the Gunslinger

Chapter Fifty-One

Chapter Fifty-One

Zachary quickly took in the scene as he held his revolver in his hand and contemplated shooting the sheriff where he stood. Arthur Thomas was standing only a few feet from Samantha.

His eyes took in the sight of his wife. Seeing her alive and whole—even bloody and worn as she was—filled Zachary with relief. He could see the pain in her eyes, the fatigue and weariness etched into her face, and the way her hand shook as she held that revolver aimed at Sheriff Arthur Thomas' chest.

"Zachary...." Her voice was a beacon calling him home as Zachary strode across the room, keeping his gun aimed at the sheriff as the other man took several steps away from them both and kept his hands raised in surrender.

Keeping the sheriff in his peripheral vision, Zachary reached his wife. He looked down in Samantha's green eyes for several long moments, simply taking in the love and light still shining so brightly out of them—still so full of life.

She swayed on her feet and Zachary was quick to wrap his arm around her and pull her body into his offering her his strength. "You rest now, Sam. I'm here. I've got you."

The breath rushed out of her and her arm wrapped around him, gripping the back of his dusty black vest. "I love you."

He pressed a quick hard kiss to the top of her head, burying his face in her red curls for a moment as he fought back a wave of emotion and blinked away the tears that threatened to fall.

Once he was certain he wouldn't make a fool of himself in front of the sheriff, Zachary turned toward the man, keeping Samantha's body held against him with his gun still aimed steady at the sheriffs' chest. "I warned you that I protect what's mine, Sheriff."

"Yes, you did, Mr. Marston." Arthur Thomas tipped his head. "And any good man does. I'm not your enemy."

Zachary's jaw tightened. "And yet I found you alone with my wife, standing feet away from her after she was attacked and she's holding you at gunpoint. I would say that makes you my enemy."

Samantha stirred and he glanced down to see her looking up at him. "I think he's telling the truth, Zach. I think we can trust him."

Zachary raised a brow. "You were the one holding him at gunpoint."

A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips. "I said I think we can trust him but I'm also not an idiot."

Zachary knew she was no idiot. The love and respect he felt for his wife grew every moment. Though he didn't now the details of what had happened today, he knew one thing for certain, he had underestimated her strength. Zachary would never make that mistake again—his wife was strong and smart and nowhere near helpless. She was truly amazing.

Zachary longed to kiss her but now wasn't the time. Instead, he turned his gaze back to the sheriff. "She just saved your life—at least for a few minutes. Why should we trust you?"

"He hates Clinton just as much as we do. Don't you, sheriff?" Samantha added.

Zachary saw the anger in Arthur Thomas' gaze. He saw the man's jaw tighten and his knuckles whitening as his fists clenched. "Ma'am, I would say that is a goddamn guarantee."

Zachary didn't lower his gun but his grip on it did loosen slightly. "Why?"

Arthurs gaze dropped to the floor. His throat worked as he swallowed hard several times. Slowly, he took a deep breath and met Zach's gaze once again. "Because three years ago Clinton Matthews came upon my home while I was away. Him and his men slaughtered my family. My wife, my daughter, my son.... I lost all of them in a single afternoon and rode home to find them...." His voice broke and he took another shuddering breath. "Hate is too weak a word for what I feel toward that son of a bitch."