Page 12 of Wild Spirit Revival

Molly whirled to see Elijah Beckett dismounting, his face a storm cloud of anger. Behind him, a man she assumed was Grayson looked on with confusion.

Elijah strode toward her, eyes blazing. “You! What do you think you’re doing on our property?”

Molly stood her ground, chin raised in defiance. “I’m working, Mr. Beckett. Something I believe you’re familiar with.”

“This isn’t some attraction for greenhorns,” Elijah growled. “You can’t just—”

“Elijah!” Jolene’s voice cut through the tension. She waddled toward them, one hand on her back. “I gave Miss O’Sullivan permission to photograph the ranch. She’s documenting Montana for a project.”

Elijah’s jaw clenched, his gaze darting between Molly and his sister-in-law. The muscles in his neck corded as he struggled to rein in his temper.

Molly watched the silent exchange, her own anger giving way to fascination. There was something in the way Elijah’s eyes softened when he looked at Jolene, a protectiveness contradicting his gruff exterior.

Grayson stepped forward, breaking the tense silence. “Well, if Jolene’s given her blessing, I don’t see the harm.” He extended a hand to Molly. “Grayson Beckett. Welcome to Wild Spirit Ranch, Miss O’Sullivan.”

As Molly shook his hand, she couldn’t help noticing Elijah’s deep scowl. She met his gaze, a challenge in her eyes. “I assure you, Mr. Beckett, I mean no disrespect to your home. I’m simply here to capture its beauty.”

Elijah’s nostrils flared. He opened his mouth to retort, but Jolene placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Why don’t you show Miss O’Sullivan around, Elijah? I’m sure she’d appreciate a guide who knows every inch of this land.”

Molly’s eyes widened. Spend more time with this bristling bear of a man? The very thought sent a shiver down her spine. Though whether from fear or something else, she couldn’t quite say.

Molly squared her shoulders, determined not to let Elijah intimidate her. “That won’t be necessary, Jolene. I’ve taken enough photographs for today.” She began packing her equipment with swift, practiced movements.

Elijah’s narrowed gaze watched her, refraining from any more comments.

As Molly secured her camera in its case, she shot occasional glances at Elijah. His interaction with Jolene had revealed a side of him she hadn’t expected. Protective and gentle. It was a stark contrast to the brusque man who’d confronted her moments ago.

“I do appreciate your hospitality.” Molly addressed Jolene and Grayson. “Your ranch is truly spectacular.”

Jolene beamed, her hand resting on her swollen belly. “You’re welcome back anytime, Miss O’Sullivan. Perhaps next time, you can join us for supper?”

Elijah’s head snapped up, his jaw taut. Molly caught the look and felt a flutter in her stomach. Why did his disapproval bother her?

“That’s very kind of you,” Molly replied, hoisting her equipment into the buggy.

Settling onto the seat, she urged the horse forward. The drive back to Mystic gave her ample time to ponder the mystery of Elijah Beckett. She’d come to Wild Spirit Ranch expecting to capture images of the largest ranch in this part of the frontier. Instead, she found herself grappling with a man who challenged her at every turn.

The buggy rattled along the road back to Mystic, each jolt mirroring the tumult in her thoughts. It was beautiful, but Molly barely noticed, her mind fixated on the perplexing Elijah Beckett.

“Insufferable man,” she muttered, gripping the reins tighter.

She huffed, blowing a stray curl from her face. The image of Elijah’s gentle interaction with Jolene kept replaying in her mind, at odds with his earlier gruffness.

As Mystic came into view, Molly slowed the buggy. The town was alive with the bustle of early evening. Shopkeepers closed up, ranch hands headed into Buffalo Run Tavern, and children played games before supper. A typical early evening in most towns.

“Miss O’Sullivan,” Casper Jennings called from the porch of his mercantile. “How’d the photographing go?”

She reined in the horse, forcing a smile. “Eventful, Mr. Jennings. Very eventful.”

“Ran into the Becketts, did you?” Casper chuckled. “They’re good folk. Elijah can be a little particular about the ranch.”

“Particular is one word for him,” Molly replied, her tone dry. “Tell me, Mr. Jennings, is Elijah Beckett always so…”

“Prickly?” Casper finished, his eyes twinkling. “Only with folks he doesn’t know. Or those he’s taken an interest in.”

Molly felt her cheeks warm. “I’m certain he hasn’t taken an interest in me, Mr. Jennings. Unless you count wanting to run me off his property as interest.”

Casper smiled, a hint of mischief in his weathered face. “Time will tell, Miss O’Sullivan. Time will tell.”

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