Page 22 of Wild Spirit Revival

Chapter Nine

One by one, the Becketts began to disperse, heading to their respective bedrooms. Molly lingered for a moment at the table, gathering the dishes and taking them to the kitchen. As she made her way up the stairs, she couldn’t help feeling Elijah’s gaze on her back. Closing the door behind her, she rested against it, releasing a slow breath.

At the top of the landing, Elijah paused outside Molly’s door. His hand hovered to knock, an unfamiliar conflict brewing within him. He’d spent the last couple hours sneaking glances at her, noticing the way her eyes lit up when listening to them discuss the rustlers, the gentle curve of her smile when the family joked among themselves.

Drawing his hand back, he ran it through his thick hair. He was beginning to enjoy her company, and the realization unsettled him more than he cared to admit.

The door opening had him taking a step back. Molly stood there, looking at him with a curious stare. “Elijah? Is everything all right?”

He cleared his throat, caught off guard. “Yeah,” he managed, his usual gruffness softened by a hint of uncertainty. “You?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Molly replied, a smile evident in her voice. “Goodnight, Elijah.”

“Night,” he grunted, turning away. As he strode toward his room, Elijah’s thoughts were on the city girl who’d stumbled into his life. She was becoming more than just an inconvenience. Molly O’Sullivan was becoming a distraction he wasn’t sure he could afford.

Molly poured herself a cup of coffee the following morning, taking a sip before approaching Naomi Beckett. The older woman stood at the sink, her slender hands immersed in soapy water as she scrubbed a deep pot with practiced efficiency.

Molly took a deep breath, clutching the cup with both hands. “Mrs. Beckett.” Her voice was tinged with trepidation. “I was wondering if I might speak with you about something.”

Naomi glanced up, her eyes sharp and assessing. “What is it, Molly?” she asked, her tone direct but not unkind.

Molly stepped closer. “I’ve been thinking about the younger boys at Wild Spirit Ranch. I find myself incredibly curious about them. I overheard Annabell and Lilian referring to them as orphans. I was hoping… well, I was wondering if I might be able to extend my stay here. Just for a little while longer.”

Naomi’s eyebrows rose, her hands stilling in the cooling water. “Extend your stay? For what purpose?”

Molly’s words tumbled out in a rush. “I’d like to document their stories. Through my photography and some interviews. These boys, they’ve been through so much, and I believe their experiences deserve to be captured, to be remembered.”

Naomi remained silent for a moment, her gaze fixed on Molly. The young woman could almost see the thoughts churning behind those weathered eyes, weighing the pros and cons of her request.

After a time, Naomi spoke, her voice measured. “Molly, this is a working ranch, not a curiosity shop. These boys have chores and responsibilities. Their time isn’t to be frittered away posing for pictures.”

Molly’s heart sank. She pressed on, her innate stubbornness rising to the surface. “I understand. I promise I won’t interfere with their duties. I’ll work around their schedules, be as unobtrusive as possible. Please, I truly believe this could be something meaningful, not just for me, but for them as well.”

Naomi sighed, wiping her hands on her apron. She looked out the window, her gaze sweeping over the vast expanse of the ranch. When she turned back to Molly, there was a hint of softness in her eyes.

“You’re a determined young woman, aren’t you?” A ghost of a smile touched her lips. “All right. You can stay on one condition. You pull your weight around here. I won’t have you being a burden on this household.”

“Oh, thank you, Naomi. I won’t be a burden. I’ll help with whatever needs doing, you have my word.”

Naomi nodded. “See you do. And you’ll tell Elijah what you’re doing. He’s the one closest to the orphans. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to attend to.”

As Naomi turned back to the sink, Molly finished her coffee and hurried outside. She needed to find Elijah and explain this new development. Perhaps seek his advice. Despite his aloof nature, she found herself drawn to the taciturn rancher.

The sun beat down mercilessly on Elijah’s broad shoulders as he mended a section of fence near the barn, his muscled arms working with practiced efficiency. Sweat glistened on his brow, and he paused to wipe it away with the back of his hand, leaving a smudge of dirt across his forehead.

Molly approached, her breath catching at the image he made. A testimony to the intensely physical work required on a ranch.

“Elijah!” Her voice brimmed with barely contained excitement.

He looked up, his eyes narrowing at the interruption. “Molly,” he replied, his tone curt.

Molly reached the fence, her cheeks flushed from the combination of the heat and her enthusiasm. “I have news to share,” she began, her words tumbling out in a rush. “I’ve spoken with Naomi, and she’s agreed to let me stay on at the ranch a while longer. I want to document the lives of the boys here through photographs and interviews.”

Elijah’s jaw tightened, his expression skeptical. “That so? And what exactly do you aim to accomplish?”

She chose her words with care. “The boys must have incredible stories. Their resilience, their strength. It deserves to be captured, to be shared with the world. I want to show people the heart of Wild Spirit Ranch, the difference it’s making in these young lives.”

As she spoke, he found himself studying her face, noting the determination in her eyes, the genuine care in her voice. It was somewhat unsettling how her enthusiasm seemed to chip away at his impassive pose.

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