Page 52 of Wild Spirit Revival

Molly swallowed hard, her heart pounding. “Yes, I do.”

He nodded once, then strode to the door. As he reached for the handle, he paused, looking back at her. “I won’t be gone long.”

And then he was out the door, leaving Molly alone with her racing thoughts and the sudden, overwhelming realization she was falling in love with Elijah Beckett.

Chapter Twenty

Molly sank onto the edge of her bed, her mind whirling with conflicting emotions. The room felt suddenly empty without Elijah’s presence, yet his lingering scent, a mix of leather, pine, and something uniquely him, filled her senses.

“What am I doing?” she whispered to herself. The happiness of realizing her feelings for Elijah warred with the pragmatism she’d depended on to guide her life.

She stood, pacing the small confines of her room. “I came here to build my career, not to fall for a rancher,” she muttered.

A knock at the door startled her from her reverie. “Miss O’Sullivan?” It was Faith Goodell, the owner of the Mystic Gazette. “May I have a word?”

Molly composed herself before opening the door. “Of course, Faith. Please, come in.”

As Faith entered, Molly noticed the woman’s eyes dart to the crate of dry plates, then back to her. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

“Not at all. Why don’t we go downstairs to talk? I believe there is coffee in the parlor.”

“Of course.” Faith headed into the hall, with Molly a few steps behind.

Once the two had poured coffee and found seats, Molly leaned forward. “What can I do for you?”

“Well, this may sound presumptuous, but I wanted to ask if you might work for the Mystic Gazette as a reporter. The town is growing, and I’m finding it hard to keep up.”

Molly pushed aside her personal turmoil as she considered the surprise offer. “I must say, you’ve caught me by surprise. It’s a fascinating offer. You do know I plan to travel to Yellowstone, then continue west to the Pacific Ocean?”

“Yes, I know.” Faith leaned forward. “I understand you have a relationship with a newspaper in Chicago. If you aren’t tied to them on an exclusive contract, I’d hoped you might consider traveling as a reporter for my paper.”

Molly’s heart rate quickened. Here was an opportunity to further her career in an unexpected way. “Your offer is quite intriguing. To clarify, I send my contact at the paper my article and photographs through the mail. They’ve been very good about including them when space permits. However, there is nothing exclusive.” She thought for a moment, taking a sip of coffee before setting the cup down. “I don’t see a reason not to be associated with your newspaper.”

“Wonderful. When you have time, please come by the office, and we’ll write out the details.”

“I’ll stop by this afternoon.” Molly’s lips tilted up at the corners. “And thank you for the opportunity.”

As Faith stood to leave, Molly felt a tremor of excitement roll through her. Wasn’t this exactly why she’d come to Montana? To prove herself as a serious photographer and journalist?

Taking the stairs to her room, Molly’s gaze landed on the crate Elijah had so carefully carried for her. She couldn’t wait to tell him about Faith’s offer.

Elijah and Molly strolled down Mystic’s boardwalk toward the Golden Griddle, her steps were a lively bounce with barely contained excitement. She cast frequent glances at Elijah, as if bursting to share a secret.

Ever observant, he noticed the spring in Molly’s step and the way she kept looking at him. His brows furrowed as he tried to decipher her mood.

“You’re in good spirits,” he remarked. “Something you want to tell me?”

Her cheeks flushed. “It’s nothing. Just enjoying this beautiful day.” She gestured at the clear Montana sky.

His eyes narrowed skeptically. Elijah had grown up reading cattle and horses. Reading people wasn’t much different. “Uh-huh,” he grunted, unconvinced.

As they approached the restaurant, Molly’s stomach growled, and she laughed, patting it. “I guess I’m hungrier than I realized.”

Elijah held the door for her, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “After you.”

She swept past him, her skirt swishing. She paused inside, drinking in the warm, inviting atmosphere of the Golden Griddle. “Smells wonderful,” she breathed.

He shrugged, uncomfortable with her enthusiasm. “Always does.”

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