Page 42 of Wild Spirit Revival

“You’re up early,” came a voice from the dimly lit room.

Elijah started, then relaxed as he recognized his mother’s silhouette. “Mornin’, Ma. Thought I’d get an early start on the day.”

Naomi Beckett studied her son, a knowing look in her eyes. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Shrugging, he busied himself with pouring a cup of coffee. “Eager to get to work.”

His mother’s soft chuckle made him turn. “You know, Eli, there’s no shame in admitting when something’s got you all twisted up inside.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Naomi sighed, patting his arm as she passed. “Of course not. Well, since you’re up, might as well put those restless hands to good use. The biscuits are ready to be rolled out and cut. Then you can put them into the oven.”

Working the dough, his thoughts drifted once more to Molly. The image sent a jolt through him, and he rolled the dough with renewed vigor.

I can’t think like that. She’s leaving. End of story.

Even as he tried to convince himself, a part of him held onto hope. There was always hope Molly might see something worth staying for in Mystic Valley.

Placing the biscuits into the oven, Elijah stepped out onto the porch, his eyes scanning the vast expanse of Wild Spirit Ranch. The day’s tasks stretched out before him, a welcome distraction from his tumultuous thoughts.

The sun climbed higher in the sky as Elijah and his siblings threw themselves into the day’s work. Sweat glistened on their brows as they dug holes and set the heavy wooden posts for the new corral.

“Eli!” Grayson called out, his deep voice carrying over the sound of hammering. “How’s that corner post looking?”

Elijah stepped back, eyeing the sturdy post he’d just set. “It’s solid. Should hold up against even the orneriest bull.”

Naomi appeared, carrying two canteens. “Speaking of ornery,” she teased, “you boys better take a break before you keel over.”

As they gulped down water, Elijah’s gaze wandered to the distant shimmer of Moon River. “We ought to check on the herd down by the water. Make sure none of those calves have wandered off again.”

Grayson nodded, wiping his brow. “Good thinking. Why don’t you head down there? Ride the river for a bit. Make sure nothing’s blocking the flow. I can finish up here.”

Elijah mounted his horse, relishing the familiar creak of leather. As he rode toward the river, the rhythmic pounding of hooves matched the steady beat of his heart. The physical exertion had done wonders to quiet his restless mind.

Hours later, his muscles aching from the day’s labor, Elijah guided his mount back toward the ranch house. He felt good about what he’d accomplished.

As he crested the final hill, something caught his eye. There, parked in front of the house, sat a familiar buggy. Elijah’s heart leapt into his throat.

“Molly?” he whispered, hardly daring to hope.

Energized, Elijah urged his horse forward. He all but flew into the yard, dismounting with practiced ease. His hands trembled as he untacked his mount.

“Get ahold of yourself,” he muttered, taking a deep breath.

But even as he admonished himself, Elijah couldn’t help the anticipation building in his chest. He strode toward the house, his long legs eating up the distance. As he reached for the door handle, he paused, steeling himself for whatever awaited him inside.

With one last steadying breath, Elijah pushed open the door. Hearing feminine voices, he stepped into the kitchen, his heart pounding against his ribs.

His breath caught at the sight before him. There, standing at the counter with flour dusting her hands and a stray lock of strawberry blonde hair falling across her forehead, was Molly. She was laughing at something his sister, Lilian, had said, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

The sight of her hit Elijah in the gut. Joy and relief washed over him in equal measure. He stood frozen in the doorway, drinking in the scene before him. Molly appeared so at ease in his family’s kitchen, working alongside his mother and sister as if she belonged there.

“Elijah.” His mother’s voice broke through his reverie. “Look who’s come to help with supper.”

Molly turned, her smile widening as she caught sight of him. “Hello, Elijah. I was beginning to think you’d run off to join a cattle drive.”

He cleared his throat, willing his voice to remain steady. “Takes more than a long day’s work to keep me away from a good meal.” He stepped farther into the kitchen. “Though I didn’t expect such fine company.”

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