Page 8 of Wild Spirit Revival (Montana Becketts, Wild Spirit Ranch #1)

Annalee surveyed the room, her gaze sharp and determined. She squared her shoulders, channeling the same resolve she used when facing down a stubborn steer.

“Grayson and Parker. I need you both to head downstairs now. We’ve got things under control here.”

Grayson hesitated, his broad frame tensing as he looked from Annalee to Jolene. “Are you sure? I don’t want to leave her—”

“She’ll be fine,” Annalee interrupted, her tone softening. “We’ll take good care of her, I promise. We need space to work, and you’ll only be in the way.”

Parker, already inching toward the door, nodded with vigor. “Come on, Gray. Annie knows what she’s doing.” He tugged at his older brother’s arm, eager to escape the tense atmosphere.

Grayson leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to Jolene’s forehead. “I’ll be right downstairs if you need me,” he murmured, his clipped tone filled with tenderness.

As the men left the room, Molly stepped forward, her eyes wide with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

Annalee’s confidence faltered for a moment as she met Molly’s inquiring gaze. She took a deep breath, her slim frame straightening.

“Ma was supposed to be here for this.” Her eyes flickered with quiet resolve. “But she’s still gone, and we can’t very well ask this little one to wait, can we?”

Jolene let out a pained groan, her gaze locking onto Annalee’s. “I trust you, Annie,” she managed through gritted teeth, her hair plastered to her forehead with sweat.

Annalee nodded. “All right, ladies, we may not have experience, but we’re going to bring this baby into the world. That’s the Beckett way, after all.” She glanced at Lilian and Molly. “We’ll do this just like women have been doing since time began.”

Lilian, her face somewhat pale, stepped forward. “I’ve helped birth calves. Can’t be too different, right?”

Annalee couldn’t help chuckling. “All right, Jolene. You’re strong and brave. You left behind a life of luxury in Savannah to build a home here with Grayson. If you can do that, you can do this.”

Jolene nodded, a ghost of a smile flickering across her face despite the pain. “I wouldn’t trade this life for anything.”

As another contraction hit, Annalee looked at Molly. “Support her head and shoulders. Lilian, get ready with those cloths.” She positioned herself at the foot of the bed, her heart thundering but her voice steady. “All right, Jolene. When I say push, you give it everything you’ve got.”

The next hour passed in a blur of activity, punctuated by Jolene’s screams and the encouraging words of the women around her. Annalee found herself drawing on every ounce of knowledge she possessed, guiding Jolene through each push with a calm she didn’t entirely feel.

Finally, with one last monumental effort from Jolene, a new cry filled the room. Annalee’s hands trembled slightly as she cradled the squalling infant, a boy with a shock of dark hair, just like his father’s.

“You did it, Jolene,” Annalee said, her voice thick with emotion as she wrapped the baby in a clean cloth. “He’s perfect.”

As she placed the newborn in Jolene’s arms, Annalee felt a surge of pride and love wash over her. This was what it meant to be part of the Beckett family, to face challenges and emerge victorious.

Annalee opened her mouth to ask Jolene about a name for the baby when the door burst open. Naomi Beckett, her graying brown hair windswept, strode into the room with the energy of a woman half her age.

“I’m not too late, am I?” Naomi’s voice, direct as ever, filled the space.

Annalee’s eyes widened in surprise. “Mama! We thought you were still on your trip.”

Naomi’s gaze softened as it fell on Jolene and the newborn. “Couldn’t stay away when I knew my first grandchild was on the way.”

Jolene, exhausted but beaming, looked up at her mother-in-law. “You’re just in time to meet your grandson.”

Naomi moved closer, her petite frame belying the strength garnered through decades of ranch life. She peered down at the baby, a smile softening her stern features.

“Well, now,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. “Isn’t he something?”

Lilian practically bounced with excitement. “He’s perfect, Mama.”

Naomi chuckled, patting Lilian’s shoulder. “Yes, he is perfect.”

Molly watched the scene unfold, feeling warmth spread through her chest. This wasn’t just the birth of a child. It was the continuation of their family legacy. Feeling like the outsider she was, she made her way to the door.

“So,” Naomi said, her tone shifting back to its usual businesslike manner, “what are we calling this little cowboy?”

“Well,” Jolene began hesitantly, “Grayson and I had talked about naming him after his absent brother.”

Naomi’s breath caught. “You mean… Cody?”

Jolene nodded, her eyes glistening. “Cody Grayson Beckett. What do you think?”

For a moment, the room was silent, save for the soft coos of the baby. Then Naomi spoke, her voice thick with emotion. “I think it’s a wonderful name.”

As the women gathered around, marveling at little Cody and celebrating his arrival, Jolene looked at Naomi. “Do you want to get Grayson?”

“I certainly would.” A few seconds later, Naomi’s voice rang out from the top of the stairs. “Grayson. It’s time for you to meet your son.”

The aroma of spice cake wafted through the Beckett family kitchen, mingling with the earthy scent of strong coffee. Naomi Beckett’s keen eyes settled on the unfamiliar young woman seated at her dining table. Her gaze flickered between the stranger and her daughter, Annalee, a mixture of curiosity and skepticism playing across her lined features.

“Well, now,” Naomi drawled, her voice carrying the weight of years on the Montana frontier. “Who might this young lady be, Annalee? Don’t tell me you’ve gone and adopted another stray.”

Molly O’Sullivan’s cheeks flushed, her eyes widening at the matriarch’s blunt assessment. She opened her mouth to speak, but Annalee’s laughter cut through the air.

“Oh, Mama.” Annalee chuckled. “You know I can’t resist a lost soul. But I promise, this one’s just visiting.”

Naomi’s eyebrow arched. “Is that so? And what brings a city girl like yourself out to our little slice of heaven, Miss…?”

“O’Sullivan, ma’am. Molly O’Sullivan. I’m a photographer from Chicago. I’ve come to capture the beauty of Montana.”

Naomi snorted, a sound somewhere between amusement and disbelief. “Beauty, is it? Well, I suppose there’s still some beauty out here, if you don’t mind incredibly difficult, backbreaking work and calluses to go with it.”

Molly laughed, her nervousness melting away. “I assure you, Mrs. Beckett, I’m not afraid of hard work. Or cow manure, either.”

Naomi chuckled, her earlier skepticism softening, if only a little.

“Oh, there’s plenty of beauty here,” Annalee insisted. “You should see the sunset over Moon River, Molly. It’s as if angels painted the sky.”

Molly grinned, imagining the scene Annalee described. “I’d love to see it. In fact, I’d love to photograph all of Wild Spirit Ranch.”

Annalee nodded. “That’s why Jolene invited Molly to stay for supper and the night, Ma. She thought Molly could get some good shots tomorrow, maybe even of the boys working the herd.”

Naomi’s eyebrows shot up. “I see.”

“You know Jolene wouldn’t invite anyone who wasn’t trustworthy,” Annalee said.

Naomi sighed. “I suppose you’re right. Well, Miss O’Sullivan, it seems you’ll be joining us for breakfast tomorrow.”

Molly grinned, her earlier trepidation forgotten. “I’m happy to help, Mrs. Beckett. And please, call me Molly.”

Lilian, who’d been silent, offered a slow smile before taking a sip of her tepid coffee. Beside her, Parker took the last bite of cake while looking between his mother and Molly.

He opened his mouth to speak but stopped at the sound of the front door opening. Elijah, Joshua, and Nathan strode in, their boots caked with mud and their faces etched with exhaustion.

Annalee jumped up, her earlier mirth replaced by excitement. “Oh, you’re just in time. We have wonderful news. Jolene just had their baby. A little boy. They named him Cody Grayson Beckett.”

The brothers’ faces transformed, weariness giving way to joy. Joshua grinned while Nathan let out a whoop of delight. Even Elijah’s expression softened, a ghost of a smile playing at his lips.

As Annalee filled them in on the details, Molly found herself slipping away to the kitchen. She wasn’t sure why, but something compelled her to let the family members have time to themselves.

She wanted to make herself useful. Perhaps it was the ingrained hospitality her mother had instilled in her, or maybe it was a desire to show her gratitude for the Becketts’ kindness.

Molly busied herself preparing plates of the cake Lilian had baked earlier and pouring cups of strong, black coffee. As she worked, she could hear the continued chatter from the other room, punctuated by Elijah’s deep, rumbling voice. Despite their rocky start, she found herself drawn to his voice, wondering how it would sound if he ever decided to laugh.

Molly stepped into the dining room, the tray holding the cake and cups of coffee balanced carefully in her hands. She approached the table where Elijah, Joshua, and Nathan sat. Their conversation hushed as she drew near, three pairs of eyes turning to watch her.

“I thought you gentlemen might appreciate some food,” Molly said, her voice steady despite the slight tremor in her hands. She set a plate and cup in front of Joshua first, who offered a broad smile.

“That’s mighty kind of you, Molly. Thank you,” Joshua said, his soft-spoken tone genuine.

Nathan’s face lit up as Molly placed his portion before him. “Thank you, Molly.”

Finally, she reached Elijah. The eldest Beckett brother’s gaze met hers for a brief moment before flicking away. As she set down his plate and cup, he merely grunted, not bothering to look up again.

She felt a flash of irritation at his brusque manner. Instead, she pushed it aside, recalling how she’d dealt with pricklier malcontents during her photography career in Chicago. If Elijah Beckett thought his silence would intimidate her, he was mistaken.

As Molly turned to leave, Naomi’s voice rang out. “Now, don’t you dare think about slinking off, young lady. Come sit down and join us. The boys were just going to talk about the rustlers.”

Molly hesitated, caught between her desire to give the family privacy and her curiosity about the recent events. Naomi’s stern expression brooked no argument, so Molly found herself settling into a chair next to Nathan.

“Now then,” Naomi continued, her eyes sharp as she surveyed her sons. “Go ahead and tell us about the rustlers.”

Joshua leaned forward, his calm appearance tinged with excitement. “Nathan already told you Tripp and his men were with us. We tracked them to Black Canyon. Elijah’s hunch about Flatrock being their hideout was right.”

Elijah’s face was impassive as he sipped his coffee.

“We managed to catch them off guard.” Nathan’s voice brimmed with pride. “Tripp came up with a brilliant plan to distract them while the rest of us rounded up the cattle.”

Molly found herself leaning in, captivated by the tale. She glanced at Elijah, noticing the way his jaw clenched when his gaze met hers.

Joshua cleared his throat, his expression turning serious. “We need to inform Brodie about what happened. Those rustlers won’t take kindly to losing the cattle after all they did to steal them.”

“I reckon they might try to retaliate.” Nathan stuffed the last bite of cake into his mouth.

A tense silence fell over the room. Molly felt a chill run down her spine as she considered the implications. She’d come to Mystic seeking adventure, but she hadn’t bargained for this level of danger.

Elijah suddenly spoke, his voice low and gravelly. “I’ll ride into town at first light to speak with Brodie. We need to be prepared for whatever comes next.”

“I’ll go with you, Eli,” Joshua said. “I want to let Faith know what happened.”

Naomi snorted. “Why would the newspaper editor want to run an article on our troubles? She has no interest in what happens with ranchers.”

“Mama,” Annalee said, sending an understanding look at Joshua. “Faith Goodell is fair in her reporting. It’s just the townsfolk have more going on for her to write about. The ranchers keep to themselves and aren’t prone to talking about their lives. I think she’d want to include an article about rustlers in the next paper.”

Naomi rose, stifling a yawn behind her hand. “You do what you think best, Joshua. I’m going to check on my new grandson, then go to bed.”

The rest of the family continued to talk after Naomi left. Molly couldn’t help wondering what she’d gotten herself into. Wild Spirit Ranch was proving to be far more than a picturesque backdrop for her photographs.