Chapter Twenty-Nine: Elizabeth

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Someone screamed. Was it me? It might have been. I wasn't prone to screaming, but seeing my soon-to-be husband shot was just cause. Noah, who had been turning towards me, stumbled back a few steps. I pulled out of Earnest Webster's grasp and ran into the street. "Noah!"

He couldn't be hurt. He couldn't!

"Owen Burns, put your hands in the air!" I vaguely recognized the marshal's voice. Finally! What had taken him so long to get here?

Noah's hands were on his chest, patting and searching. The expression on his face was a mixture of confusion and fear. My own fear lessened as I didn't see any blood. Owen Burns hadn't shot him.

"Hands up, Burns!"

I didn't give the showdown between the marshal and Burns any of my attention, though it sounded as though the criminal was not cooperating. "Are you alright?" I asked, stepping in front of Noah. "Are you hurt?"

His eyes focused on me. "Elizabeth, you need to get inside. I don't want you to get hurt," he said, grabbing my arms.

"I'm—" Another gunshot rang out, cutting off my reassurance that I was fine. Noah ducked, pulling me down with him. Somehow, he ended up with his arm around my back, almost as though he wanted to shield me with his own body.

When there were no other gunshots, I twisted to look back. Owen Burns was on the ground and Marshal Westler was standing over him. "On your feet, Burns," the marshal said. "It's not that bad."

Slowly, Noah and I stood up. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the other townspeople clustering around the door and window of the buildings around us. Now that the danger was over, they wanted to see what was happening.

"What is going on here?" A man I didn't recognize pushed through to be in front of everyone. "What have you done now, Coleman? What is this? You there! Who do you think you are? That's my brother you just shot!"

The last few sentences, thankfully, were not directed at Noah, but at the marshal. So this must be the father of Annie Burns.

Reaching down, Marshal Westler pulled a groaning Owen Burns up. "I'm going to have to ask you to keep your distance, sir," he barked out sharply. "I am a US Marshal, and I am here to take your brother into custody for robbery and murder."

"You're lying!" was the large man's immediate response.

Marshal Westler flipped his jacket aside to reveal the badge that was pinned on his vest. "Sir, I am here to do my job. If you try to interfere, you will be arrested and tried as an accessory to the crimes I have already named."

Did it work that way? I honestly had no idea if that was legal or even possible. But if it would keep the Burns family from causing any more of a scene, I would be thankful for whatever threat the marshal made.

"A marshal?" Burns sputtered. "Am I supposed to just believe that? Anyone could have a badge. For all I know, you could have stolen that from a real marshal."

"If you have a problem, you can take it up in Cheyenne, which is where I will be taking your brother as soon as the stage comes into town," Marshal Westler informed him. "I will defend myself and my prisoner."

He paused and glanced around. "I'm going to need a secure room somewhere. Please tell me there is such a thing in this town."

"We really need a jail and a sheriff," Noah muttered. He cleared his throat and raised his voice. "Mr. Collins has a backroom with a secure lock. I'm sure he will be happy to accomodate you, Marshal."

It took several seconds before a man separated from the crowd. "Of course, of course," he said. "Right this way, Marshal. Uh, I hope I won't have to stand watch? I just run a store."

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