Page 20 of Wild Spirit Revival

Annalee’s eyes widened in surprise. “Mama! We thought you were still on your trip.”

Naomi’s gaze softened as it fell on Jolene and the newborn. “Couldn’t stay away when I knew my first grandchild was on the way.”

Jolene, exhausted but beaming, looked up at her mother-in-law. “You’re just in time to meet your grandson.”

Naomi moved closer, her petite frame belying the strength garnered through decades of ranch life. She peered down at the baby, a smile softening her stern features.

“Well, now,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. “Isn’t he something?”

Lilian practically bounced with excitement. “He’s perfect, Mama.”

Naomi chuckled, patting Lilian’s shoulder. “Yes, he is perfect.”

Molly watched the scene unfold, feeling warmth spread through her chest. This wasn’t just the birth of a child. It was the continuation of their family legacy. Feeling like the outsider she was, she made her way to the door.

“So,” Naomi said, her tone shifting back to its usual businesslike manner, “what are we calling this little cowboy?”

“Well,” Jolene began hesitantly, “Grayson and I had talked about naming him after his absent brother.”

Naomi’s breath caught. “You mean… Cody?”

Jolene nodded, her eyes glistening. “Cody Grayson Beckett. What do you think?”

For a moment, the room was silent, save for the soft coos of the baby. Then Naomi spoke, her voice thick with emotion. “I think it’s a wonderful name.”

As the women gathered around, marveling at little Cody and celebrating his arrival, Jolene looked at Naomi. “Do you want to get Grayson?”

“I certainly would.” A few seconds later, Naomi’s voice rang out from the top of the stairs. “Grayson. It’s time for you to meet your son.”

The aroma of spice cake wafted through the Beckett family kitchen, mingling with the earthy scent of strong coffee. Naomi Beckett’s keen eyes settled on the unfamiliar young woman seated at her dining table. Her gaze flickered between the stranger and her daughter, Annalee, a mixture of curiosity and skepticism playing across her lined features.

“Well, now,” Naomi drawled, her voice carrying the weight of years on the Montana frontier. “Who might this young lady be, Annalee? Don’t tell me you’ve gone and adopted another stray.”

Molly O’Sullivan’s cheeks flushed, her eyes widening at the matriarch’s blunt assessment. She opened her mouth to speak, but Annalee’s laughter cut through the air.

“Oh, Mama.” Annalee chuckled. “You know I can’t resist a lost soul. But I promise, this one’s just visiting.”

Naomi’s eyebrow arched. “Is that so? And what brings a city girl like yourself out to our little slice of heaven, Miss…?”

“O’Sullivan, ma’am. Molly O’Sullivan. I’m a photographer from Chicago. I’ve come to capture the beauty of Montana.”

Naomi snorted, a sound somewhere between amusement and disbelief. “Beauty, is it? Well, I suppose there’s still some beauty out here, if you don’t mind incredibly difficult, backbreaking work and calluses to go with it.”

Molly laughed, her nervousness melting away. “I assure you, Mrs. Beckett, I’m not afraid of hard work. Or cow manure, either.”

Naomi chuckled, her earlier skepticism softening, if only a little.

“Oh, there’s plenty of beauty here,” Annalee insisted. “You should see the sunset over Moon River, Molly. It’s as if angels painted the sky.”

Molly grinned, imagining the scene Annalee described. “I’d love to see it. In fact, I’d love to photograph all of Wild Spirit Ranch.”

Annalee nodded. “That’s why Jolene invited Molly to stay for supper and the night, Ma. She thought Molly could get some good shots tomorrow, maybe even of the boys working the herd.”

Naomi’s eyebrows shot up. “I see.”

“You know Jolene wouldn’t invite anyone who wasn’t trustworthy,” Annalee said.

Naomi sighed. “I suppose you’re right. Well, Miss O’Sullivan, it seems you’ll be joining us for breakfast tomorrow.”

---