Page 51 of Wild Spirit Revival

“Your family seems to have quite the rapport with the local Crow tribe.”

Elijah’s gaze remained fixed on the trail ahead. “We’ve shared these lands for generations.”

“In Chicago, such relationships seem to be more contentious.”

“This isn’t Chicago, Molly. Out here, you learn to judge folk by their actions, not their origins.”

As they approached Mystic, the conversation lulled, allowing her to reflect on the day’s events. The Becketts’ protective nature, while sometimes grating, now struck her as comforting.

Upon reaching town, Elijah dismounted, moving to help Molly down from the buggy. His strong hands encircled her waist, and for a brief moment, their eyes met. Molly felt a flutter in her chest and her face heat, again recalling their kiss.

“I’ll help you unload.” Elijah reached for her equipment box.

“That’s really not necessary—” she began, but he’d already lifted the heavy case with ease. “I want to see if my order is waiting for me at the mercantile.”

As they walked, Molly found herself studying Elijah’s profile. His jaw was set in its usual stern line, but there was something in his eyes—a warmth she’d come to expect when they were together.

The bell above the mercantile door jingled as they entered. Casper Jennings looked up from his ledger, a smile breaking across his weathered face.

“Miss O’Sullivan. Afternoon, Elijah. What perfect timing. Your dry plates just arrived on today’s stage.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful news!”

As Casper retrieved her order, Molly turned to Elijah. “This is splendid. The additional plates will allow me to capture even more of this magnificent land.”

For a moment, his indifferent facade cracked, revealing a hint of a smile. “Reckon there’s plenty out there worth capturing.”

“Here you are.” Casper set the crate of dry plates on the counter.

“Thank you, Mr. Jennings. May I use the room you set up for me later today?”

“Anytime you need to.”

After paying, Elijah hefted the crate of dry plates with ease, settling it on his shoulder before picking up the camera equipment, his muscled arms barely straining under the weight.

“Where to?”

“The Mystic Hotel.”

“What did Casper mean about the room?”

She smiled. “He set up a room in the back for me to develop my plates. Mr. Jennings is fascinated by photography. He doesn’t even charge me for the room’s use.”

As they walked along the boardwalk to the hotel, Molly found herself unduly aware of his presence beside her. The silence between them charged with a feeling she couldn’t define.

“I appreciate your help,” she ventured, glancing sideways at him.

“It’s nothing.”

When they reached the hotel, he followed her up the narrow staircase to her room. As she fumbled with the key, she could feel the warmth radiating from his body so close behind her.

Inside the room, Elijah set the equipment box and crate down carefully on the floor.

As he moved them out of the way, she found herself studying the lines of his back, the way his shirt stretched across his broad shoulders.

Elijah straightened, catching her gaze. For a moment, something intense flickered in his eyes, making Molly’s breath catch in her throat.

“I have errands to complete. Afterward, do you have time to join me for lunch?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

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