Joshua pushed through the saloon doors, and the afternoon light momentarily blinded him. He took a deep breath of the cool, crisp air, a stark contrast to the smoky warmth inside. Walking to Jupiter, he grabbed the reins and patted the horse’s neck.
Inside, Doyle returned his gaze to the card players, his mind was elsewhere. He drained the last of his drink and signaled the bartender for a refill. The normally boisterous saloon owner was uncharacteristically quiet, his thoughts running deep.
Joshua lingered by the hitching post, listening to the muted sounds of the town. He had no illusions about Doyle. The man was as canny as they came, and his motivations were often layered. Mystic was a small town, and alliances, whether political, social, or personal, had a way of intertwining.
Doyle lifted his refreshed glass and stared into it as if seeking answers in the swirling liquid. The card players laughed and shouted, oblivious to the storm brewing in one man’s conscience.
Outside, Joshua swung into the saddle, casting one last glance at the saloon. He couldn’t see Doyle from his vantage, but he imagined the man still standing at the bar, still pondering what was said.
Joshua reined Jupiter toward the ranch, trotting down the street to leave the quiet town behind.
Doyle had supported the Alliance so far.
Joshua knew trust was a fragile thing, easily shattered and hard to repair.
As the peacemaker in the Beckett family, he felt as if he’d spent a lifetime mending broken bonds.
The ride back to the ranch would give him time to think about Faith, about the Alliance, about how all these changing dynamics in town would affect his family. For now, though, he let the rhythm of Jupiter’s gait and the familiar sights of the countryside soothe his mind.
In the saloon, Doyle set his drink down, untouched. He rose slowly, with the heavy deliberation of a man carrying a newfound burden, and walked to the large front windows. He watched as Joshua Beckett rode away, the rancher’s silhouette growing smaller against the backdrop of the waking town.
Doyle had decisions to make. The kind that could change the course of friendships, of alliances, of lives.
Faith Goodell stood on her porch, the chill of evening whispered across her skin. Her gaze was locked on Joshua Beckett, who approached through her gate, his figure outlined by the rising moon.
“Evening, Faith,” he said, tipping his hat in a gesture of familiarity and respect.
“Evening, Joshua.” She turned to open the front door, stepping inside ahead of him.
“Thank you for coming. I thought it best if you could explain your thoughts on the Alliance moving forward.”
“I’m glad you invited me,” he replied.
Faith ushered him into the parlor. The room was already filled with the low murmur of conversation. The discussions stopped, replaced by greetings when Joshua appeared. He smiled, letting it linger on his mother, who sat next to Gloria Graham, a woman Naomi professed to take with a grain of salt.
They took their seats, and Faith felt a surge of pride looking around the room. The women who gathered on a Tuesday evening were the embodiment of resilience and strength.
Melody Jennings leaned forward. “So, what is the purpose of this meeting, Faith?” The others nodded, anxious to hear the topic.
She took a deep breath, her eyes scanning the room.
“We’ve already decided to organize a library in the building Naomi Beckett graciously offered.
” She nodded at Naomi. “We have fifty dollars from Doyle Shaw to get started. This is a topic I’ve asked Mayor Jurgen to place on the council’s agenda for Friday.
He agreed. However, there are matters we should discuss prior to their meeting. ”
A few eyebrows rose, but most faces showed a spark of excitement. Faith pushed forward, her voice gaining momentum.
“We’ll need volunteers to keep it open several days a week. I would suggest we settle this in case the town council asks.”
“I can help on most Saturday mornings,” Naomi offered in her no-nonsense voice.
“And I can do one morning a week,” Melody said.
The women continued to volunteer until they had coverage for Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday mornings.
Faith smiled. “Thank you. All of you. I’m certain some of the other members will be able to volunteer, also.”
Joshua listened, admiring the dedication of each woman. Yet a part of his mind wandered to the broader implications of their efforts.
Faith looked around the room before changing the subject. “Joshua, please tell us your thoughts on the proposed tax for the schoolhouse addition.”
He leaned forward. “The council wants to levy a tax to fund the schoolhouse addition. This tax would be levied on businesses until enough money is collected to pay for the work. My brother and town council member, Grayson, has another idea. He thinks we should gather donations and seek able-bodied volunteers to build the addition without imposing a tax.”
Maisy Cox’s eyes brightened. “That’s a wonderful idea. It doesn’t burden the business owners and brings the community together.”
Joshua smiled. “Exactly. But it needs support from the townsfolk.”
“We’ll support it,” Gloria Graham said with conviction. “The Alliance can gather donations and even volunteer some labor if needed.”
A round of agreement circled the group.
Joshua continued. “It would help if you attended the next open council meeting. Bring as many women as you can. Show you’re invested in this issue, too.”
Again, the women agreed and offered to talk with other Alliance members to encourage them to attend the council meeting.
Faith’s gaze met his, and for a moment, they shared an unspoken understanding. “We’ll be there,” she promised.
The meeting continued with discussions on logistics, fundraising, and volunteer schedules. As the plans solidified, Faith felt the weight of skepticism lift, replaced by a growing sense of purpose.
After the meeting adjourned, Faith and Joshua stepped back outside.
“Thank you for being here,” Faith said, her voice soft with gratitude.
“Anytime, Faith,” Joshua replied.
They walked back to the path where Naomi waited atop her horse.
As they reached the spot where Jupiter stood, Faith turned to Joshua. “I’m glad we talked. And I’m glad we’re friends.”
He smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. “Me, too, Faith. And remember, no matter what, we’ll always be friends.”
Faith nodded, feeling a swell of emotion. “I’ll see you soon. Be safe.”
“You, too,” he replied, mounting his gelding with practiced ease.
Faith waved to Naomi, watching as they rode away. She stood there a moment before turning and heading back toward her house. Instead of thinking about the meeting, her mind stayed on Joshua. He’d been in her thoughts more and more, even keeping her awake some nights.
A bright, incredibly attractive man, she’d wondered for a while why he’d never shown much interest in courting any of the single women in town. At one time, she was certain he planned to court a young woman who’d come to town with her parents. It didn’t happen.
Faith wondered how she would respond if he showed her more interest beyond their lifelong friendship. The thought sent spikes of fear into her heart. But… what if…?
Forcing herself to stop thinking about Joshua, as if she were a schoolgirl, she thought back to tonight’s meeting. Joshua’s words rang with clarity, and she knew the Mystic Women’s Alliance needed to show a united front at the next council meeting.
Sun filtered through the lace curtains, creating delicate patterns across Faith’s room. She stretched, feeling the pleasant pull of relaxed muscles, and sat up.
She dressed quickly, the fabric of her wool dress warming her chilled skin. In the small kitchen, she prepared a breakfast of coffee, eggs, and toasted biscuits. The comforting aroma of the coffee mingled with the crisp scent of morning air.
As she sat down to eat, her mind considered her plans for the day. Her fork clinked against her plate, the simple meal fueling both her body and mind for the day ahead.
Finishing, Faith washed the dishes and set them aside to dry.
Slipping into her coat and wool hat, she stepped outside.
The morning air was cool, though the sun carried the promise of warmth.
The town of Mystic was already stirring, the sounds of daily life beginning to build into a familiar rhythm.
“On three,” Joshua said in a commanding voice. Parker and Little Joe braced themselves, hands gripping the rough wood of a new barn door. “One, two, three!”
With a grunt of effort, they lifted the door from the ground, muscles straining under the weight. The cold air bit at their exposed skin, but they ignored it, focused on the task at hand. Slowly, carefully, they maneuvered the door into place, setting it against the frame with a satisfying thud.
“Thought we were gonna lose it there for a second,” Parker said, breathing hard.
Joshua wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.
At six feet tall, he was the same height as Parker, but where his younger brother was lean and wiry, Joshua had the solid build of a man who’d spent his life working a ranch.
The almost ten years between them made a difference in many ways.
“Don’t celebrate yet,” Joshua said. “We still need to get the hinges on.”
Little Joe, a gangly fifteen-year-old with a shock of red hair, fidgeted with a set of tools. “I can handle the hinges, if you want,” he offered.
Parker snorted. “The same as you handled the fence post last week?”
“That wasn’t my fault,” Little Joe protested. “The ground was frozen solid.”
Joshua held up a hand to forestall the argument. “Let him have a go at it, Parker. We can always redo it if needed.”
The camaraderie among the three was palpable.
Even Little Joe, who wasn’t a Beckett by blood, had been taken in as one of their own.
They fell into an easy rhythm, each knowing their role, their lighthearted banter filling the air as they worked.
Little Joe concentrated his efforts on the hinges, finally stepping back to examine them. A broad grin appeared.
Joshua inspected the door, giving it a few test swings. “Not bad,” he said. “It’s starting to come together. Good work, Joe.”
They worked with renewed vigor, the prospect of a warm fire and hot meal spurring them on.
The physical labor was intense, every muscle in their bodies protesting as they hurried to complete the task.
Parker and Little Joe fell back into their usual pattern of teasing, their jabs at each other growing more creative and absurd with each passing minute.
As they laughed, Joshua’s thoughts drifted like snowflakes, landing softly on the image of Faith Goodell.
Joshua’s hands moved on autopilot as he considered the woman who’d occupied so many of his thoughts lately. Faith was nothing if not passionate, whether it was about the newspaper, her friends, or the town of Mystic itself. He admired her, even when he didn’t always agree with her.
“Josh,” Parker said, bringing him back to the present. “You gonna hold that or what?”
Joshua looked down to see he was holding a nail, completely forgetting to drive it in. “Sorry,” he muttered, taking the hammer from Parker and giving the nail a few solid whacks.
“You’re miles away,” Parker said, eyeing his older brother. “Something on your mind?”
“Thinking about the ranch,” Joshua lied. “About the future.”
His thoughts immediately returned to Faith. How she laughed, how she challenged him, how she looked at him with such intensity he felt both exposed and understood.
He remembered the night of Cody’s wedding, the two of them sitting on the porch of the homestead, watching the celebration wind down.
She’d rested her head on his shoulder, and for a brief, terrifying moment, he’d wanted to kiss her.
Instead, he’d made some awkward joke and stood up, leaving her confused and alone.
Years later, long after Cody’s wife and daughter had been murdered, Joshua considered if he could even pursue something with Faith. The idea gnawed at him. A relationship with her wouldn’t be simple or easy.
“You coming to the house, Josh?” Parker asked.
“You boys go on. I’ll be there soon,” he answered.
Joshua let the brisk air clear his mind. He took a seat on a bale of hay and rubbed his hands together, lost in thought. What did he really fear? Rejection, certainly. The sting of putting himself out there only to be turned down was something he wasn’t sure he could handle.
The deeper dread, though, was the fear of losing what he and Faith had. Their friendship was important to him, a rock, no matter what troubles they faced.
How did she even feel about him? He could sometimes convince himself the looks she gave him, the touches, the way she spoke his name—all were signs of something more. Just as often, he doubted his interpretations, and worried he was seeing what he wanted to see rather than what was real.
He remembered Annalee’s words from a few weeks ago.
“She’s not going to wait around forever, you know.
” His sister had always been more perceptive than he gave her credit for, and her warning had struck a chord.
If Faith did have feelings for him, how long would she harbor them in silence, hoping he’d make a move?
He wasn’t blind to the attention she received from other men.
Attorney Braxton Reed, the young banker from Bozeman, and a ranch hand from Tripp Lassiter’s ranch.
They were all vying for her in one way or another.
So far, she’d remained aloof, but Joshua knew it was only a matter of time before she let someone in.
The thought of her with someone else tightened his chest, and Joshua realized he couldn’t keep her waiting forever.