Page 14 of Wild Spirit Revival (Montana Becketts, Wild Spirit Ranch #1)

They weaved through the crowd, the festive atmosphere of Mystic’s Fourth of July celebrations enveloping them. Colorful bunting adorned storefronts, and the scent of roasted corn and barbecue filled the air. Children darted about, their laughter mingling with the twang of a nearby fiddle.

“I never thought I’d see anything like this out here,” Molly remarked, her eyes wide with wonder. “It’s almost as if I’m back in Chicago. Only, this is better.”

Elijah’s lips tipped upward. “Reckon we know how to celebrate out here. Though I’d wager our corn tastes better than anything you city folk can rustle up.”

Molly laughed, a warm, genuine sound making Elijah’s heart skip a beat. “Is that a challenge? Because I’ll have you know, I make a decent corn chowder.”

“That so?” His eyes sparkled with amusement. “Might have to try it for myself sometime.”

As they strolled, she found herself surprised by how easily the conversation flowed between them. Elijah seemed to open up in her presence. They discussed everything from her dry plate photography to the challenges of ranch life.

“I never realized how much work goes into running a ranch,” Molly admitted. “What your family has built is quite impressive.”

He nodded, a hint of pride in his voice. “There’s something about working the land, being part of something bigger than yourself. It’s worth the long days and hard work.”

She felt a pang of longing. “I can see why you love it so much. It must be nice, having such deep roots.”

Before Elijah could respond, Sheriff Brodie Gaines approached, his customary serious expression softened by the day’s festivities.

“Elijah, Miss O’Sullivan,” he greeted them with a nod. “Enjoying the celebration?”

“It’s wonderful, Sheriff,” Molly replied. “Though I hope you’re allowing yourself some fun as well?”

His lips twitched. “Keeping watch on the townsfolk, ma’am. Can’t be too careful.”

Elijah exchanged a meaningful look with Brodie. “Any sign of trouble?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. Our precautions may have scared them off. Those outlaws would be foolish to try anything today.”

Molly glanced between them, sensing the undercurrent of tension. Elijah had already told her about the possible threat. “What do you think will happen?”

Elijah placed a reassuring hand on her arm. “We aren’t certain anything will happen, Molly. Could be the talk about the outlaws robbing the bank today was a rumor.”

Brodie nodded in agreement. “We’ve got extra men patrolling, and the bank’s locked up tight. Everyone is safe.”

As the sheriff moved on, Molly couldn’t shake a nagging feeling of unease. She studied Elijah’s face, noting the slight furrow in his brow. “You’re sure everything’s all right?”

His expression softened as he met her gaze. “You’re safe here with me. Now, how about we go see about getting some food before the fireworks start?”

As they made their way to the food tables, Molly pushed her concerns aside, determined to enjoy this unexpected day of joy and connection.

As Lorna Dunne, owner of the Buffalo Run Tavern, handed her a plate of carved beef and carrot salad, the crack of gunfire shattered the festive atmosphere. Molly’s heart leapt into her throat as screams erupted from the direction of the bank.

“Get down!” Elijah’s voice cut through the chaos, his strong hands pushing her toward the ground, the plate of food slipping from her hands.

Fear gripped her as she crouched behind a wooden crate. Her hand instinctively reached for her camera. Then she remembered Elijah had set it behind the table.

“What’s happening?” she gasped.

Elijah’s face was a mask of grim determination. “The bank. It’s a robbery.” His gaze met hers, fierce and protective. “Stay here. Don’t move.”

“But I can help!” Molly protested, crawling around the table toward her camera. “I can document this, show people what’s happening!”

“No. It’s too dangerous,” Elijah growled, his hand on her shoulder. “Listen to me, Molly. I can’t protect you if you’re out there.”

The sounds of panic swelled around them. Shattering glass, thundering hoofbeats, screams, and gunshots underscored his concern. Molly’s heart pounded, torn between her instinct to capture this moment of history and her fear of the very real danger.

“We need to get these people to safety.” Elijah’s gaze scanned the crowd as more gunshots sounded. He turned to a group huddled nearby. “You there! Head for the church, it’s the sturdiest building in town.”

As Elijah directed people, Molly’s thoughts whirled. This was the kind of story she’d come west to document. But the fear in people’s eyes, the children crying, stopped her from grabbing the camera box. This was more than a thrilling tale for her camera.

“Elijah! What can I do to help?”

He paused, conflict clear on his face. “Help guide people toward the church. Promise me you won’t go near the bank.”

“I promise. Be careful, Elijah.”

As he moved off to assist with thwarting the outlaws, Molly took a deep breath. This wasn’t Chicago, with its predictable streets and civilized dangers. This was the untamed West she’d dreamed of capturing. Now, faced with its reality, she realized how unprepared she truly was.

Molly crouched low, scanning the chaotic scene. The Fourth of July decorations fluttered in the breeze, mocking them. A stark contrast to the mayhem unfolding.

Spotting a group of three women and several children, she rushed to them. “You need to get to the church. Go between the buildings and follow the others.”

“Thank you,” one of the women said, her voice trembling.

“Do you need me to go with you?”

“No, we can make it.” They turned and hurried away as gunfire sounded again.

Molly turned to see a group of masked men burst from the bank, guns raised and sacks bulging with stolen cash. Their leader, a towering figure with a black bandana covering his face, fired a shot into the air.

“Nobody move!” he bellowed. His voice carried over the panicked screams.

Before he could say anything more, gunfire from the men of Mystic slammed into the outlaw’s body. One by one, the other members of the gang fell to the onslaught of bullets.

Molly’s heart raced, but her hands remained steady. If only her camera were set up. She’d capture the raw fear on people’s faces, the determined set of Sheriff Brodie’s jaw as he ducked behind a water trough, his revolver at the ready. Instead, she’d only see the images in her mind.

“Miss O’Sullivan!”

Molly turned to see Faith Goodell, owner of the Mystic Gazette, crouched behind an overturned table. When the sound of gunfire slowed, she rushed to kneel beside her.

“Are you all right, Miss Goodell?”

Faith’s eyes gleamed with a mix of fear and journalistic fervor. “This’ll be the story of the year. If I survive to print it.”

“I’ll take photographs, but they’ll show the aftermath.”

“That will do,” Faith said.

A commotion near the bank drew their attention. One of the robbers had grabbed a young woman, using her as a human shield.

“Let her go!” Elijah’s voice rang out, clear and commanding. He, Brodie, and Jubal walked toward him, their guns aimed at his chest. “You’ll never make it away from here,” Elijah said. “Let her go and put down your gun.”

Molly’s breath caught in her throat. What was Elijah doing?

The robber let out a nervous laugh, a harsh, grating sound. “I’m going to ride away and take her with me.”

Elijah took another step toward him, seeing the stark fear in the young woman’s eyes. “There are at least eight guns aimed at you. You’ll never make it to your horse.”

Molly’s breath caught. She had to do something, anything to help.

As if sensing her thoughts, Faith grabbed Molly’s arm. “Don’t even think about it,” she whispered. “We document. That’s how we help.”

Molly blew out a breath, her jaw set. She might not be able to fight, but she could bear witness with her camera.

Elijah’s eyes darted to Molly, a flicker of concern thawing his stony features. In that instant, he seemed to make a decision. With deliberate slowness, he began to edge toward her, his body angled to shield her from potential gunfire.

“Let the woman go,” Brodie yelled at the outlaw. “You’ll get a fair trial. Right now, the charge is attempted robbery. Don’t make it worse.”

The outlaw seemed to consider his chance of getting away against facing a jury. “All right.” Letting go of the woman, he dropped his gun, raising his hands in the air.

With the danger gone, Molly rushed to set up her camera. Positioning it toward the bank, she took a photograph of Brodie marching the man toward her on the way to the jail. Changing plates, she took another photograph.

Her fingers tightened on the camera, positioning it to focus on Elijah. He stared straight back at her. The perfect image , she thought before capturing him in a picture Molly knew would be shown across the country.