Chapter Fifty-Five

Caroline stirred a bit as she began to come awake. Immediately her eyes flew open and she took in her surroundings. She'd expected to be lying on the boardwalk porch where Edgar had tossed her but instead she was in her own bed in the apartment at the saloon and brothel. She was fully dressed, laying on top of the covers with a thin throw blanket draped over her.

How had she gotten here? If she was home that had to mean the fight was over. But how had it gone? Surely if Clinton's men had won they wouldn't have tucked her into bed, would they?

Caroline got to her feet, weaving a bit as her head swam. She needed to check on her friends. Before she could take a step toward the door, it swung open and Sheriff Arthur Thomas stepped inside. Caroline took several quick steps back, her weak legs gave out and she fell sideways onto the bed.

"Stop right there!" she warned as he approached with a look of concern on his rather handsome face.

Caroline had no idea who she could trust. Arthur had come into town around the same time that Edgar had. Was he one of them?

"Ma'am, I'm not a threat to you," he assured her calmly. It was then that Caroline noticed the tray of food balanced in his hands. "I didn't realize you were up or I would have knocked. I just thought you might be hungry."

Her stomach roared in response. Caroline propped herself on the edge of the bed and folded her hands in her lap. "Thank you."

"No thanks necessary, ma'am," he replied, setting the tray down on the bed beside her. Caroline saw a bandage on his head sticking out slighly beneath his hat.

"What happened to you?" she asked. "Where are my friends? Are they okay?"

Arthur scratched at his tanned forearm. "Edgar shot me in the head but luckily it just grazed me. And everyone else is fine. Clinton and all the men he had working for him are dead."

Caroline breathed out her relief heavily. She picked up a piece of chicken from the plate of food and tore off a bite with her fingers before plopping it in her mouth. Guilt filled her as she chewed and stared off in space, lost in her thoughts. She should have realized that Edgar was bad. Should have known she couldn't trust him. Instead, she had led him straight to her friends and nearly caused their deaths.

The sheriff's throat cleared, reminding Caroline that the man was there. She glanced up at him as he pulled off his hat and held it tightly in his hands. His brown hair stuck up at odd angles around the bandage wrapped around his head. His blue eyes were warm but there was a sadness in them that caused her own heart to ache.

What was his story? Caroline didn't know. She had seen him many times since he'd been in town. He frequented the saloon but he always simply sat at a back table and didn't drink much. He never sampled the women and he never got drunk. He simply always sat there seeming lost in himself.

"I know guilt when I see it, ma'am, and trust me when I say you don't need to feel any. Those were evil men, the worst of the worst, and they built their lives on lying, using, and hurting folks. Your people are just fine and the danger is gone. None of them blame you so don't go blaming yourself."

Caroline blinked several times. She wasn't used to such kindness from men. Most men either treated her as an object of lust and attempted to rut with her, or treated her as a soiled, dirty woman not worthy of much respect.

"Thank you for your kindness, Sheriff."

He stuck his hat back on his head and took a step away, his jaw tensing. "Don't mention it, ma'am. This is my town and I take care of my people."

She nodded, swallowing her disappointment as she took antoher bite of chicken. Of course, it was duty that had him here treating her kindly. What else could it possibly have been?

"I should be going now, ma'am. I just wanted to make sure you got something to eat and see that you were okay. Your friends will be happy to know you're alright."

"Thank you again, Sheriff Thomas."

He simply tipped his hat, those blue eyes giving away no emotion as he turned his back and left the room, closing the door behind him.

***

"Sorry our house isn't ready yet," Timothy said as he slid into bed beside Eleanor in Samantha and Zach's guest room and pulled her body close to him. Nothing in the world felt as good as this woman did when she snuggled her body into him.

"I wouldn't care if we were sleeping in the dirt. I'm just glad to feel your arms around me and know that we're safe and together."

Tim felt his heart swell at her words and he'd be damned if he didn't feel tears pricking at his eyes. He buried his face in her golden hair and kissed her head. "I feel the same way holding you, Ell."

She turned her head and kissed his jaw tenderly. Timothy laid his hand over her stomach and their child that was still nestled safely inside her. "I could have lost you both—I almost did lose you both," he shivered. "I never want to lose you, Ell. You and this baby, the life we're making, it means everything in the world to me."

"It means everything to me too, Tim. I never let myself imagine I could have this life. I never thought I deserved it. But you... you make me feel so loved and so....worthy. You are the best thing to ever happen to me, Timothy O'Niel."

"Aw hell," he muttered as those tears he'd felt gathering broke lose and began to fall in her hair. He was blubbering like a damn babe but he hoped she wouldn't think less of him for it. "I love you more than you could ever realize, Eleanor O'Niel. If you could see yourself through my eyes, you would never, not for one moment, doubt your worth."

The two of them simply curled tighter around each other in the darkness, neither wanting to feel a single inch of space between them. "Tomorrow, Zach arranged for someone from Anbarina to deliever the supplies we'd planned on bringing back. So, within a day or two we can move into our house."

"I'm in no hurry just now," Eleanor admitted, running her hand down his arm. "I just want to spend a few quiet days here with you and Samantha and Zachary—just knowing that everyone is okay and safe and that no one else is coming for us."

"That sounds good to me," Timothy agreed. He would give Eleanor anything and everything she ever wanted. And a few quiet days sounded damn good to him.

He was exhausted. He hadn't done much sleeping since him and Zachary had first left for Anbarina. Combined with the fear and stress of the last couple of days—it was catching up with him. Timothy had never killed anyone before but today he had killed that man on the roof—and he had put a few bullets in the two men on the street. So had Zachary and the sheriff so it was impossible to know who had actually killed them.

Tim wasn't sure how Zachary had lived like that for so long. He couldn't have done it. Killing people, even when they deserved it, wasn't something he had in him and not a habit he wanted to make. It made him have a deeper understanding of his best friend and a better appreciation for the way Samantha had helped heal so many of his broken pieces.

"I'm exhausted Tim. Let's get some sleep," Eleanor whispered.

"Sounds good, sweetheart. It's been a long day."

And it had. After taking out Clinton and his men, the doc had tended to Sam's bullet wound which had been painful and nerve wracking. She'd bit her teeth into Zachary's rifle strap to stifle cries of pain as the doctor had sewn her back up and Zachary had looked ready to rip the head off the world with his bare hands.

Then Zach and Tim had helped clean up the street so it would be safe for families to go about their day. Caroline had shown up shortly after that and they'd spent hours simply talking about what had happened and assuring each other that it was no ones' fault but Clinton's.

Sheriff Thomas had sent men out to the ranch to get the bodies and clean the mess that had been left there. It had made coming home this evening much easier without the evidence of what had happened at what was supposed to be their safe place.

Tim felt Eleanor twitch a bit against him and knew she was asleep. He held her closer and kept one hand on her belly, protecting the life that grew there as he closed his eyes and kissed her head. Slowly he felt himself drifting off to sleep as well as he held his entire world in his arms.

***

Zachary finished checking the locks on the window and doors ensuring that his family would be safe from intruders for the night. He knew that Clinton was dead and he knew that all the men loyal to Clinton were also dead—if Clinton had any other men he would have sacrificed them before meeting Zachary on the street. But he couldn't turn off the fear that something would happen to those he loved the moment he let his guard drop.

Slowly, he made his way back to the bedroom. Samantha was sound asleep against the soft pillows in her white night gown, her red curls splayed across them, glowing in the low lamp light. Zachary simply stood there a moment, letting his eyes soak in every inch of her.

Every curve and line and dip of her body were seered into his memory. A road map to his own personal oasis. She was the sunlight to his darkness and he had almost lost her.

Zachary sat in the chair by the bed and tugged off his boots. He removed his gunbelt and laid it on the beside table before propping his rifle against the wall within arms reach. His gaze went to Creed who was sleeping peacefully on his bed beside the wardrobe. Zachary smiled. He was glad the damn dog had made it. That pup was a hero for what he'd done and would make a real fine dog once he grew up.

"Zachary?" Samantha's tired voice had him turning his head. She was still laying there but her big green eyes were open now and watching him with concern. "Are you okay?"

Zachary nodded, removed his clothes, and slid into the bed beside her before covering them both with the soft quilt that Samantha had bought for their bed. "Better now," he stated as she slid against him and laid her head on his chest.

"You're one hell of a woman, Sam." He took one of her long curls in his hand and wrapped it loosely around his finger. "I thought for sure I was gonna lose you but you...."

"I wasn't about to let him take anyone else away from you," she cut in, raising up to look into his eyes. "We told each other at the beginning of this that we were losing anyone else, remember? That we weren't going to let Clinton Matthews take anything else away from us?"

Zachary smiled. Yeah, he remembered. This fiery, stubborn, strong, powerful, amazing woman had broken through every defense he had back then, every boundary he had set, every wall he had built. Samantha had done away with them brick by brick and given him a reason to do better, a reason to be better, a reason to live.

Samantha was stronger than he was by a longshot. No matter what she had ever gone through she'd maintained a strength and a resilence and a belief that life would get better and hope still existed—she had given those things to him and Zachary would be forever in debt to the beautiful woman in his arms.

"I love you," he whispered, finding no other way to put into words what he was feeling.

Samantha put her lips to his in a featherlight touch that left him growling as she pulled away. He wanted more. So much more. But he wouldn't take it, not tonight. He knew his wife was in pain and suffering with her shoulder.

"I love you too, Mr. Marston," she smiled down at him, rendering him damn near unable to breathe. "And I have something important I need to tell you."

"You've been saying that all day," he reminded her. He wasn't happy that she kept teasing him with whatever this mystery news was. Samantha knew him well enough to know he appreciated bluntness and honesty. "When are you going to get around to telling me whatever it is?"

"You don't have to grumpy about it," she scolded, her smile fading a bit. "I didn't want to tell you at the docs with so many people around. It felt like something I needed to tell you while we were alone."

Zachary raised up enough to nip at her chin, making her laugh. "And now we're alone, aside from Creed who is no doubt over there dreaming about sturdy draft horses and butterflys. So, tell me what you're wanting to tell me."

Samantha grabbed his hand and brought it over to rest against her stomach. "We need to get the spare room ready for a nursery. We'll be needing a cradle in about eight months."

Zachary was sure his heart stopped beating. He looked up into those emerald green eyes gazing down at him with so much love and devotion and simply tried to wrap his head around what she had just told him.

"A baby?" he whispered, awestruck.

She nodded, a tear slipping from the corner of her eye. "Yes. Our baby."

Zachary moved his hand to her red hair, cupped her head, and pulled her mouth down to his, kissing her hard. When he pulled away her eyes stayed closed as a peaceful, gentle smile spread across her face. "I take it you're happy?"

"Happy?" Zachary nearly choked on the emotion in his throat. "Hell yes, I'm happy. You've already given me so much, Sam. Now you're giving me a child? We're gonna fill this house with so much love, sweetheart."

She kissed his jaw and settled back down against his chest. "Damn right we are."

Zachary reached out and turned off the lamp before burying himself deeper inside the covers and laying a kiss to those red curls. This woman had saved him in so many ways.

She was amazing. She was strong. She was so damn beauitful.

He would spend forever loving her. 

A/N: And we've reached the end of 'Saving the Gunslinger'! Thank you so much to all of you who have stuck with me through this one! It took a while, I know, and i went months between updates at times but you all were always right here when I came back! You'll never know how much your love and support means to me! 

I also want to add that I left this ending somewhat open because there is a chance I might come back and write a story for Caroline. No promises, and no timeline on when that might get started but it is something that I've got swirling around in my mind!

Thanks again! Love y'all!

Nicole