Saving the Gunslinger

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

The sunrise on Samantha's sleeping face was the most beautiful sight Zachary had ever seen. He wrapped one of her soft red curls around his calloused finger and pressed a tender kiss to her brow. He hated to wake her, but the crew would be out soon to begin working.

"Sam? It's time to wake up, sweetheart."

Zachary found himself gazing into those deep green eyes as they fluttered open. A smile curved her sleepy face. "Good morning."

"Good morning." Zachary gave that curl wrapped around his finger a gentle tug. "We need to get up and get dressed. The crew will be here soon."

Samantha groaned and buried her face in his bare chest. "Let's just lay like this and sleep all day.'

Zachary had to admit that was damned tempting. They had spent most of the night all wrapped up together, gazing at the stars and talking about the future. Morning had come far too early. "Probably be best to get you dressed before they show up. You look mighty tempting in my shirt and I'd hate to have to knock another man's eyes out of his head."

Samantha's light laughter rang out in the early morning air. She pulled away and sat up, letting out a loud yawn as she stretched her arms high above her. Zachary's mouth went dry at the sight of his woman all wrapped up in the blue fabric of his shirt, the collar open and unbuttoned to reveal the swell of her breasts and the heart shaped emerald that laid between them. An emerald that was so much more than just a necklace. Samantha was his forever, just as he was hers, and now she wore proof of that.

"I have to get to town," Samantha said, dropping her arms and rubbing at her sleep lined face.

Zachary frowned. "Why?"

"Because I work at the post office today."

Zachary watched her get to her feet and he laughed out loud when the long johns she wore fell to the ground, clearly the knot he had tied to hold them up had come undone—of course that laughter died when his eyes took in the curves of those creamy, freckled legs.

Samantha quickly yanked the long johns back up and her cheeks were glowing red. "I think you should probably take me to the barn so I can get dressed."

Zachary shoved himself to his feet. "I'd say you're right." He sure as hell didn't want another man seeing his woman looking so damn tempting. The fire had died in the night so Zachary simply stomped around on it a bit to ensure there were no glowing embers left. He packed up their small camp quickly, tossed the saddle on Blaze and hopped on the geldings' back.

When Samantha slid up behind him her arms circled around him, those soft hands burned his skin—branding him as they laid against his bare stomach. Zachary knew he would never get enough of her. As they rode slowly back toward the barn, Zachary laid his hand over hers. "You don't need to work in town, Sam. I want you here to get the farm going."

"It's only three days a week, Zachary, and I like working there. Gavin was kind enough to give me the job so I don't want to just abandon him."

"Gavin worked there for years without any help. I'm sure he'll survive."

"Zachary Marston, I may have agreed to be your wife but that doesn't mean you can tell me what I will and won't do. I want to work with Gavin and so I'm going to. It's only three days a week—the rest of my time I'll spend here building back your ranch and farm."