She didn’t care who heard her, or how unladylike it was to shout on the street. “Nate!” she yelled, her voice laced with terror.
He must have heard her urgency, because as the people around him turned to stare, Nate began to jog toward them.
When he reached the girls, Ruthann turned and pointed to the man who had stopped behind them. “It’s him.”
She didn’t have to explain any further.
Without a word, Nate ran.
Chapter Twenty
SOMETHING PRIMAL ANDangry arose in Nate the second his eyes landed on the scarred man who walked several feet behind Ruthann and Norah. Ruthann didn’t need to explain; from the panic in her voice and Norah’s wide eyes, it was evident that the man Ruthann pointed to was none other than the one who had grabbed her and had hauled her off the street.
Nate didn’t think. He simply ran.
It took the other man a moment, but once he realized what Nate was doing, he ran too. Nate wanted to grab hold of the man, turn him around, and look him in the eye before he told him to stay away from his wife and this entire town. The man was armed, that was clear from the holster at his hip. And Nate was not, but that thought didn’t hold him back.
Whether it was because he was taller and stronger or because of the sheer physical effort he’d exerted, Nate caught up to the man just before they reached the edge of town. Nearby, three children lurked outside the front of a house. Nate noticed them just as he reached forward and grabbed hold of the man’s coat.
They tumbled to the ground. The blond man crawled forward, but Nate had the foresight to reach for the pistol at the man’s hip. Yanking it from the holster, he stood at the same time and held it out.
The man backed up a few steps, his hands outstretched. “I didn’t mean no harm.”
Nate barely heard him. The pistol felt as heavy as a horse in his hands, the metal strangely warm. He hadn’t held a gun since he’d left the Dakota Territory. Hadn’t even looked at one. He’d tossed his pistols into the bottom of a carpetbag when he left, and that’s where they still sat. Memories fought to burst into his mind, and he squeezed his hand around the grip to force them away.
He finally found words and ground them out. “What do you want with my wife?”
“Nothing. Like I said, I didn’t mean anything by it at all.”
“By what? Chasing her into town or grabbing her outside the gunsmith’s?”
The man said nothing, his eyes drifting to his revolver in Nate’s hand. Nate followed the man’s gaze to see his own hand beginning to tremble. He raised his other hand to steady his grip.
Screaming. Blood . . . so much blood. A mother holding a wailing child. Men and women on the ground, not moving.
Nate bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. He couldn’t let it in now.Later. He’d deal with the memories later.
