Page 59 of Wild Spirit Revival

His arms ached from holding her, but he refused to loosen his grip. Her head rested against his shoulder, and he could feel her shallow breaths against his neck.

“Stay with me, Molly.”

As they raced toward Wild Spirit Ranch, his mind whirled with a mix of emotions he wasn’t accustomed to dealing with. Fear, hope, and a fierce protectiveness warred within him.

“I should’ve known you’d go chasing one more photograph,” he said, a hint of exasperation in his voice. “Always pushing boundaries, aren’t you?”

Twitch’s hooves thundered across a wooden bridge spanning Moon River. The ranch was close now, and he urged his mount on, continuing to talk next to her ear.

“We’re almost there. When you wake up, I’ve got a few things to say to you about running off into danger.”

As the familiar buildings of the ranch came into view, he allowed himself a moment of relief. But he knew the real fight was still ahead.

Grayson burst out of the house as his brother reined to a stop. “Eli! Is she—”

“Alive.” Elijah’s urgent voice cut him off. “Joshua is riding for the doctor.”

Grayson held out his arms. “Hand her down to me.”

Elijah complied, then held out his arms again.

“You’ve done your share,” Grayson said as he rushed up the steps. “I’ll carry her inside.”

Jolene appeared in the doorway, her eyes widening at the sight of Molly’s limp form. “Bring her in, quickly! Take her into the downstairs guest room.”

As Grayson placed Molly on the bed, Elijah found himself reluctant to let go. He stared down at her while Jolene checked her breathing and pulse.

“Eli,” Jolene said softly, “she’s running a temperature. Would you mind getting me a cool bowl of water and clean cloths?”

He hesitated, his gaze never leaving Molly’s face. “I can’t—” he started, then swallowed hard. “I can’t lose her, Jolene.”

Jolene’s expression softened. “I know. Go get what I need. Let me do what I can until the doctor arrives.”

Elijah rushed from the room, his normally impassive face a mask of worry and frustration. Grabbing a bowl, he filled it with cool water, lifting a stack of clean cloths from a cabinet before returning. Setting everything down, he dipped a cloth in the water. Wringing it out, he handed it to Jolene.

“She’s got soot in her lungs,” Jolene murmured, wiping Molly’s face with the damp cloth. “We need to prop her up, help her breathe easier.”

As they worked to make Molly more comfortable, the sound of approaching hoofbeats echoed from outside. Elijah rushed out of the room to the front door, hope surging in his chest.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Elijah sat by Molly’s bedside, her small hand engulfed in his calloused palm. He hummed a low, soothing tune, something his mother used to sing, and watched her sleep. Propped up with pillows, her breathing was still labored but steadier since Doctor Wainwright’s last visit. Her fever-flushed face had receded to a healthier hue, though her eyes remained dull with exhaustion when open. Now, with her eyes closed, she looked almost peaceful.

A sudden, wrenching cough burst from Molly’s chest, waking her with a start. She winced, clutching her ribs as Elijah helped her sit up.

“Breathe slow,” he instructed, his voice a deep, calming anchor. “In and out, nice and easy.”

She gasped for air, each breath a painful endeavor. Elijah poured a glass of water and held it to her lips. She sipped a little, then pushed it away, her hand lingering on his.

“Thank you,” she rasped, her voice a shadow of its usual confident self. “For everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said, releasing her hand gently and standing. “I’ll get Ma. She’ll mix the herbs.”

She sank back against the pillows, closing her eyes. The heat from the fire, the acrid taste of smoke, the panic—all of it rushed back to her in vivid flashes. She remembered strong arms lifting her against his chest, the long ride on a horse.

Elijah returned with his mother, Naomi. As usual, she exuded innate confidence mixed with maternal warmth. She carried a small wooden bowl and pestle, the scent of crushed leaves rising in a fragrant cloud.

“How’s our patient?” Naomi asked, though her eyes were already assessing Molly.

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