Page 10 of Wild Spirit Revival

Nathan raised his beer. “To the safe return of the passengers to Mystic.”

As they clinked their glasses together, Elijah couldn’t shake the image of the determined woman from the stagecoach. Taking another sip of his beer, his gaze moved to the entrance.

The swinging doors creaked open, drawing the attention of the patrons. Molly O’Sullivan strode in, her chin held high despite the curious stares from the male crowd. Her gaze swept the room, briefly locking with Elijah’s before she chose a table far from the Beckett brothers.

As she settled into her seat, she couldn’t help feeling a thrill of defiance. She’d come to Montana to forge her own path, and she wasn’t about to let societal expectations hold her back. The tavern, with its rough-hewn wooden tables and smoky atmosphere, was a far cry from the tea rooms of Boston. Molly found she rather liked it.

A barmaid approached, eyebrows raised in surprise. “What can I get for you, miss?”

Molly smiled, her voice clear and confident. “A sarsaparilla, please. What do you have to eat?”

“Today’s special is beef stew.”

“I’ll also have a bowl of the stew.”

As the barmaid walked away, Molly felt a presence looming over her. She looked up to find Elijah Beckett standing at her table, his eyes narrowed in a mixture of curiosity and disapproval.

“Well, Miss O’Sullivan,” he drawled, his voice low and gravelly. “I must say, I’m surprised to see a lady such as yourself in a place like this.”

Molly didn’t flinch as she met his gaze. “And why is that, Mr. Beckett? Surely, a woman is as capable of enjoying a meal in a tavern as any man.”

Elijah lifted a brow. “It’s not about capability, miss. It’s about propriety. This isn’t exactly a place for—”

“For what?” Molly interrupted, her voice sharp. “For independent women who make their own choices? I assure you, Mr. Beckett, I’m quite capable of handling myself in any establishment, tavern or otherwise.”

A muscle twitched in Elijah’s jaw. “I didn’t mean to offend,” he said, though his tone suggested otherwise. “I’m merely concerned for your safety and reputation.”

She leaned back in her chair, a smile playing on her lips. “Your concern is noted but unnecessary. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe my sarsaparilla is arriving.”

As the barmaid set down her drink, Molly turned her attention away from Elijah, dismissing him. She could feel his gaze on her for several more seconds before she heard him walk away.

Molly refused to be intimidated by anyone. She’d come to Mystic on a mission to photograph the wonders of the frontier. She wasn’t about to let anyone, not even the ruggedly handsome Elijah Beckett, make her feel out of place. Molly tensed when she sensed his return. She glanced up to find him once again by her side.

Elijah’s eyes narrowed, a flash of annoyance crossing his face. “Suit yourself, Miss O’Sullivan. Just don’t come crying for help when you find yourself in over your head.”

With a curt nod, Elijah turned on his heel and strode back to where his brothers sat, his boots echoing on the worn wooden floor. As he approached their table, Joshua raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Well,” Joshua drawled, “that was quite the display of charm. I’m surprised she didn’t swoon right into your arms.”

Nathan chuckled, taking a swig of his beer. “Yeah, Eli. You’ve got all the subtlety of a bull in a China shop when it comes to women.”

Elijah scowled, dropping heavily into his chair. “I wasn’t trying to charm her,” he growled. “The woman’s more stubborn than a mule. Can’t she see it’s not proper for her to be here?”

Joshua leaned in, his voice lowered. “And since when did you become the arbiter of propriety, big brother? I seem to recall a certain incident with Widow Johnson’s daughter a while back.”

“That was different. A complete misunderstanding,” Elijah muttered, a hint of color rising to his cheeks. He glanced over his shoulder at Molly, who was pointedly ignoring them as she sipped her sarsaparilla. “She’s… infuriating.”

Nathan grinned, clasping Elijah on the shoulder. “Sounds to me as if you’re more interested than you’d care to admit. Never seen a woman get under your skin the way this one has.”

Elijah shrugged off his brother’s hand. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m just concerned about the reputation of our town. What if every woman started frequenting taverns?”

“Then maybe we’d have some better company than your sour face,” Joshua quipped, earning a laugh from Nathan and a glare from Elijah.

As the brothers continued their playful banter, Elijah couldn’t help stealing another glance at Molly. There was something about her defiance, her unwillingness to back down. Her attitude irritated and intrigued him. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. She was trouble, plain and simple. And the last thing Elijah Beckett needed was trouble in his life.

Lifting his glass to his lips, he took a long swig, trying to focus on his brothers’ conversation. Unfortunately, his gaze kept drifting back to Molly, drawn like a magnet to her fiery hair and determined posture.

“Elijah?” Joshua snapped his fingers in front of his brother’s face. “You still with us?”

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