Page 4 of Wild Spirit Revival (Montana Becketts, Wild Spirit Ranch #1)

The stagecoach rumbled to a halt in front of Mystic’s stagecoach station, its wooden wheels creaking in protest. Molly O’Sullivan exhaled, her shoulders sagging with relief as she peered out at the town. The harrowing journey, marred by the attempted robbery, had left her both exhilarated and exhausted.

“We made it,” she murmured, more to herself than to her fellow passengers.

Gus Thornton, seated next to her, chuckled. “Yes, we did. We have those Beckett boys to thank for arriving alive.”

Molly’s eyes narrowed at the mention of the Becketts. Elijah’s manner during their second encounter grated on her.

“I suppose,” she replied curtly, glancing outside.

The guard was already walking toward the doctor’s office with the wounded driver in his arms.

As the stage office clerk opened the coach door, Molly caught sight of three tall figures escorting a group of bound men down the street. The Beckett brothers, she realized, were leading the outlaws to jail.

Elijah Beckett’s commanding presence was unmistakable as they marched the outlaws forward. His younger brothers, Joshua and Nathan, flanked the group, their movements coordinated and efficient.

“Move along,” Elijah barked at one of the prisoners who’d slowed his pace. “You’ve caused enough trouble for one day.”

Joshua, ever the peacemaker, placed a calming hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Easy, Elijah. They’re not going anywhere now.”

As Molly stepped down from the coach, her gaze locked with Elijah’s for a brief moment before he looked away.

She found herself torn between gratitude for their rescue and irritation at Elijah’s brusque manner. Though she couldn’t deny the competence with which the brothers handled the situation, there was something about Elijah she couldn’t quite describe. Whatever it was, she found her mind going back to him more often than she liked.

“Miss O’Sullivan,” Gus called out, nodding at her belongings on the boardwalk. “I believe these are yours. I didn’t want to leave them unattended.”

Grateful for the distraction, Molly turned to the drummer. “Thank you, Gus.”

“Do you need help getting them to the hotel?”

“I can do it, ma’am.” A boy of about fourteen rushed forward. “I’m Eddie, and I’ll carry as much as you want me to.”

Smiling, Molly extended her hand. “I’m Miss O’Sullivan, Eddie, and I’d appreciate your help.”

Sheriff Brodie Gaines stood in the doorway of the jailhouse, his broad shoulders filling the frame as he watched the Beckett brothers approaching with their captives. His eyes narrowed, a mixture of surprise and approval crossing his face.

“Well, I’ll be,” he muttered, turning to his deputy. “Jubal, appears we’ve got some unexpected guests.”

Deputy Jubal Whitton appeared at his side, his lanky frame a contrast to the sheriff’s solid build. “Beckett boys bringing in trouble again?” A hint of amusement could be heard in his voice.

As Elijah, Joshua, and Nathan marched the outlaws toward the jail, the sheriff stepped forward, his hand resting on his holster. “Afternoon, boys. Seems you’ve had an eventful day.”

Elijah nodded. “Caught these men trying to rob the stagecoach. Thought you might want to have a word with them.”

The sheriff raised a brow. “Well, let’s get them situated inside.” He turned toward his deputy. “Jube, grab the keys.”

Once the outlaws were securely locked away, the Beckett brothers gathered outside the jailhouse. Elijah turned to his siblings.

“I could use a drink before we ride back to the ranch.”

Joshua nodded, a smile playing on his lips. “Buffalo Run?”

“You read my mind, Josh.” Nathan grinned, already heading toward the tavern.

As they walked, the tension from earlier began to dissipate. Nathan, unable to contain his enthusiasm, recounted the events to his brothers. “Did you see the look on the big fella’s face when Elijah got the drop on him?”

Joshua chuckled. “You did good out there, Nate. Kept your head when it counted.”

“You both did,” Elijah said. “Proud to ride with you.”

The warmth of his rare praise hung in the air as they pushed through the doors of Buffalo Run Tavern. The familiar smell of tobacco enveloped them, a welcome respite from the day’s excitement. Although it was a tavern, Buffalo Run served some of the best food in Mystic, and boasted a clientele of both men and women.

As they settled at a table, Joshua couldn’t help but notice Elijah’s gaze roaming the room, as if searching for someone. “Hoping to see that feisty redhead from the stagecoach?”

Elijah’s jaw tightened as he gave a slight shake of his head. “Making sure no one followed us in here. I’m not convinced we brought in all the outlaws responsible for stopping the stagecoach.”

“You mean, there may have been a lookout?” Joshua asked.

Elijah gave a slow nod as the bartender brought over three beers.

Nathan raised his beer. “To the safe return of the passengers to Mystic.”

As they clinked their glasses together, Elijah couldn’t shake the image of the determined woman from the stagecoach. Taking another sip of his beer, his gaze moved to the entrance.

The swinging doors creaked open, drawing the attention of the patrons. Molly O’Sullivan strode in, her chin held high despite the curious stares from the male crowd. Her gaze swept the room, briefly locking with Elijah’s before she chose a table far from the Beckett brothers.

As she settled into her seat, she couldn’t help feeling a thrill of defiance. She’d come to Montana to forge her own path, and she wasn’t about to let societal expectations hold her back. The tavern, with its rough-hewn wooden tables and smoky atmosphere, was a far cry from the tea rooms of Boston. Molly found she rather liked it.

A barmaid approached, eyebrows raised in surprise. “What can I get for you, miss?”

Molly smiled, her voice clear and confident. “A sarsaparilla, please. What do you have to eat?”

“Today’s special is beef stew.”

“I’ll also have a bowl of the stew.”

As the barmaid walked away, Molly felt a presence looming over her. She looked up to find Elijah Beckett standing at her table, his eyes narrowed in a mixture of curiosity and disapproval.

“Well, Miss O’Sullivan,” he drawled, his voice low and gravelly. “I must say, I’m surprised to see a lady such as yourself in a place like this.”

Molly didn’t flinch as she met his gaze. “And why is that, Mr. Beckett? Surely, a woman is as capable of enjoying a meal in a tavern as any man.”

Elijah lifted a brow. “It’s not about capability, miss. It’s about propriety. This isn’t exactly a place for—”

“For what?” Molly interrupted, her voice sharp. “For independent women who make their own choices? I assure you, Mr. Beckett, I’m quite capable of handling myself in any establishment, tavern or otherwise.”

A muscle twitched in Elijah’s jaw. “I didn’t mean to offend,” he said, though his tone suggested otherwise. “I’m merely concerned for your safety and reputation.”

She leaned back in her chair, a smile playing on her lips. “Your concern is noted but unnecessary. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe my sarsaparilla is arriving.”

As the barmaid set down her drink, Molly turned her attention away from Elijah, dismissing him. She could feel his gaze on her for several more seconds before she heard him walk away.

Molly refused to be intimidated by anyone. She’d come to Mystic on a mission to photograph the wonders of the frontier. She wasn’t about to let anyone, not even the ruggedly handsome Elijah Beckett, make her feel out of place. Molly tensed when she sensed his return. She glanced up to find him once again by her side.

Elijah’s eyes narrowed, a flash of annoyance crossing his face. “Suit yourself, Miss O’Sullivan. Just don’t come crying for help when you find yourself in over your head.”

With a curt nod, Elijah turned on his heel and strode back to where his brothers sat, his boots echoing on the worn wooden floor. As he approached their table, Joshua raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Well,” Joshua drawled, “that was quite the display of charm. I’m surprised she didn’t swoon right into your arms.”

Nathan chuckled, taking a swig of his beer. “Yeah, Eli. You’ve got all the subtlety of a bull in a China shop when it comes to women.”

Elijah scowled, dropping heavily into his chair. “I wasn’t trying to charm her,” he growled. “The woman’s more stubborn than a mule. Can’t she see it’s not proper for her to be here?”

Joshua leaned in, his voice lowered. “And since when did you become the arbiter of propriety, big brother? I seem to recall a certain incident with Widow Johnson’s daughter a while back.”

“That was different. A complete misunderstanding,” Elijah muttered, a hint of color rising to his cheeks. He glanced over his shoulder at Molly, who was pointedly ignoring them as she sipped her sarsaparilla. “She’s… infuriating.”

Nathan grinned, clasping Elijah on the shoulder. “Sounds to me as if you’re more interested than you’d care to admit. Never seen a woman get under your skin the way this one has.”

Elijah shrugged off his brother’s hand. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m just concerned about the reputation of our town. What if every woman started frequenting taverns?”

“Then maybe we’d have some better company than your sour face,” Joshua quipped, earning a laugh from Nathan and a glare from Elijah.

As the brothers continued their playful banter, Elijah couldn’t help stealing another glance at Molly. There was something about her defiance, her unwillingness to back down. Her attitude irritated and intrigued him. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. She was trouble, plain and simple. And the last thing Elijah Beckett needed was trouble in his life.

Lifting his glass to his lips, he took a long swig, trying to focus on his brothers’ conversation. Unfortunately, his gaze kept drifting back to Molly, drawn like a magnet to her fiery hair and determined posture.

“Elijah?” Joshua snapped his fingers in front of his brother’s face. “You still with us?”

He started, nearly spilling his beer. “What?”

Nathan leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eye. “You sure? Because it seems you’re more interested in our new arrival than in discussing ranch business.”

“I’m just… keeping an eye on her,” Elijah muttered, his jaw clenching. “Someone’s got to make sure she doesn’t cause any trouble.”

Joshua rolled his eyes. “Right. Because a woman eating stew is such a threat to our way of life.”

Elijah scowled, drained the last of his beer, and stood. “We should head back to the ranch. Those chores won’t take care of themselves.”

They made their way to the tavern’s exit, Elijah lagging behind. As they reached the door, he couldn’t resist one last glance at Molly. To his surprise, he found her looking right back at him, her gaze challenging and curious.

For a moment, their gazes locked, and Elijah felt a jolt of… something. Displeasure? Interest? He couldn’t quite name it. He turned away, following his brothers out onto the boardwalk.

As the tavern door swung shut behind them, Molly sat alone at her table, her thoughts swirling. She’d come to Montana seeking adventure and independence. Not once had she expected to encounter a man as interesting as Elijah Beckett. His gruff exterior and apparent disdain for her presence should have been off-putting. Instead, there was something in those stolen glances, as if there was more to him than she anticipated.

“Ridiculous,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head. “He’s just another narrow-minded man who can’t handle a woman thinking for herself.”

As she finished her meal and prepared to leave, Molly couldn’t shake the feeling her interactions with Elijah Beckett were far from over.