A Headstrong Woman (20 page)

“You look exhausted,” Jonathon commented when she joined him the next morning.

“Thanks,” she tried for sarcasm but yawned instead.

“Did the storm keep you up?” he asked as they rode toward the range. Alexandria nodded and Jonathon fell quiet.

They arrived to find the men cleaning up storm debris and joined them. Rusty informed them that in addition to the storm damage, more cattle were missing. They sent two men to search the property in hopes that the storm had merely scattered them.

They were working near the stream when the men returned to inform them that the cattle were not on the property and that they had found a hole in the fence. Alexandria accepted the news stoically, too stoically in Jonathon’s opinion.

When they reached the usually shallow, peaceful stream it was bubbling and swirling angrily past them, its whitecaps were littered with twigs and leaves. A piercing bawl cut through the air and Alexandria and Jonathon rode the stream’s bank to find the source of the cry. A few feet up stream, a calf had waded into the current and was now crying out; its head was the only thing visible. Alexandria frowned. As swift as the current was it should be moving down stream but the calf remained where it was. Jonathon lassoed the calf and started tugging; it didn’t budge.  Alexandria pulled her lasso and started helping to no avail.

“Why isn’t it moving?” Alexandria demanded of Jonathon.

“I don’t know,” he admitted as he dismounted and moved closer to the stream. They could see no visible reason for the calf to be stuck, whatever the problem; it was obviously below the water. It had started raining again and Alexandria began shivering, she had forgotten her coat. Alexandria watched in horror as a large limb and a sudden gush of water tumbled past them; the calf’s nose was now barely above the water.

“We have to do something!” Alexandria yelled as she started to scramble down the bank.

Two strong arms yanked her back.

“Are you crazy?” Jonathon demanded as he turned her to face him. “Do you want to leave that little girl at the house without a mother too? If there were anything I could do, I would, Alexandria,” Jonathon yelled over the rumble of the storm; he had her shoulders firmly grasped.

Alexandria’s hat tumbled from her head as she stared at Jonathon in misery. “It’s going to die!”

“I’m sorry, Alexandria,” Jonathon apologized and watched tears well into her eyes and spill down her cheeks. “You’re freezing, where’s your coat?” he asked as he pulled her to him and wrapped the edges of his coat around her to try protecting her from the storm.

“It’s going to die,” her voice was resigned.

“I’m sorry, Alexandria,” Jonathon whispered in her ear. He let her cry.

Thunder shook the ground beneath them but Alexandria was barely aware of it or the storm that raged around them. A storm raged inside her. She was exhausted and tired of fighting to stay ahead. She could relate with the poor animal, she felt as if she were barely keeping her head above water. She loved the ranch, she would continue to fight for it and she knew it. As her tears subsided and she grew warm, she became aware of Jonathon’s heart beating in her ear. Alexandria allowed her arms to encircle her foreman’s strong torso and snuggled further into his arms and his warmth. She knew that this man was the only reason she was managing to hold things together. She would analyze that later, she decided as she felt the tension began to drain from her. She was so very, very tired.

“Alexandria, are you falling asleep?” Jonathon asked. His chuckle echoed in his chest under Alexandria’s ear. Alexandria leaned back and blinked at him. Jonathon smiled down at her. “Come on, let’s get you to the house, you need a meal and rest,” he grabbed her hat and then swung her into his arms. Alexandria didn’t protest; she wasn’t certain she could have put one foot in front of the other if she had tried.

Jonathon set her down, swung into Ravens’ saddle, and reached for Alexandria. She accepted his help up. She didn’t stop to question why she wasn’t riding her own horse. Jonathon situated her sideways, and covered her with the blanket from his roll to keep her mostly warm and dry.

“Hold on to me so you don’t fall,” Jonathon ordered. Alexandria obeyed and laid her head against his shoulder as they started for the house.

“You’ve got to slow down, Alexandria. You’re taking on too much,” Jonathon told her. Alexandria didn’t respond. Jonathon frowned as he sorted through numbers and dates in his head.

“Alexandria, when were you married?”

“A year ago today.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, Alexandria? You could have stayed home today instead of…”

“I didn’t want all day to think and brood on it. What’s done is done,” she said quietly.

As soon as they reached the house, Jonathon swung down from the saddle and reached for Alexandria and placed her on her feet. He led her into the house.

“What happened?” Anna asked as she came to the door of the kitchen and took in her sister’s pale face.

“We had a rough day,” Jonathon answered before turning to Alexandria. “Go change into some dry clothes,” Jonathon ordered.

With stiff, awkward steps she moved to obey. The steps seemed steeper than usual as she climbed to her room and opened the door. Inside, she stripped and stood shivering a moment before pulling on her underclothes and a light green flannel dress, with cream-colored flowers scattered across it. It was the warmest dress she owned and she refused to wear her mourning clothes this afternoon. She needed cheering and her widow’s weeds would be anything but cheerful.

She sat down at the dressing table and loosened her braid to brush through her thick, wet tresses. Her hair needed to dry. Alexandria reached for a green ribbon and tied her hair off her face and left it hanging down her back in loose curls. Alexandria studied her face. She looked young; she didn’t feel young. Wide, sad eyes stared back her; she wasn’t certain that she recognized the woman in the mirror. Alexandria shook herself and stood. There were people waiting on her.

She entered the kitchen for Jonathon to place her in a chair by the fire.

“I need to help with dinner,” she attempted to stand. Jonathon handed her a bowl, potatoes, and a knife. Alexandria stared at the items a moment before smiling.

“Thank you,” she started peeling.

“How are things going out on the range?” Anna asked her sister.

“More cattle are missing,” Alexandria answered “and…we watched a calf drown, it was stuck in the stream and the water was rising too rapidly.”

“That well then? Alexandria, I don’t want to make you mad, but are you sure you want to stay?”

“Yes,” Alexandria answered without looking up from her work.               Jonathon surveyed her, sitting as she was; the fire cast a glow over her and showed off her beautiful high cheekbones, straight nose, and full lips. She put up a good front he mused, but he had seen behind her façade to the delicate person underneath.

Alexandria looked up from under thick lashes and frowned at Jonathon.

“Are you okay?” she asked him. Her eyes were a perfect contrast to her dark hair and pale skin. Some women were everyday beauties, like Anna. Alexandria was a rare beauty, unique, he acknowledged to himself.

“I’m fine,” he assured her and tore his gaze from hers to find Anna watching him curiously. Jonathon turned his attention to Lilly.

Anna wasn’t certain what had just happened, but she had the feeling that something had and it bothered her.

***

Alexandria gasped as lightening forked across the green sky. She was huddled in the corner; someone was coming up the stairs for her. In the distance the calf was bawling and her sister’s words from earlier in the evening rang in her ear: “You two sure are getting cozy these days, Lexie.”
              Alexandria sat upright in the bed and searched the room for the images and sounds that had been plaguing her. All was quiet, she had been dreaming. Alexandria pushed hair from her face with a shaking hand and threw aside her twisted covers. After the dreams she had been having, she had no desire to go back to sleep. She pulled on the dress she had been wearing before bed, slipped on her shoes and a sweater, and crept down the stairs and into the yard.

She stopped, inhaled deeply of the crisp morning air, and let it out in a slow ribbon that curled into the air and vanished. She loved this time of year when warm currents of air caressed the days making them pleasant and evening and morning belonged to the chilly grip of winter. Alexandria crossed the yard, let herself into the barn and carried a lantern to the hayloft where she knew she would find a new litter of kittens.

She gathered a soft, warm, furry body into her lap and started petting the kitten’s back. Its soft rhythmic purr filled the still morning air. Alexandria let her thoughts wander. What should she do about the missing cattle? What could she do? She had placed an ad in the paper for more help in hopes of tightening security but so far had not received a response. She couldn’t keep losing her herd a small handful at a time.

They had lost a total of seventy-five head of cattle. Not an overwhelming loss but still a disturbing one. She also realized that she had been depending on Jonathon too much. She needed to be more independent, more self-sufficient rather than turning to her foreman and friend. The truth was, she wasn’t certain how to do that, she needed his help and as hard as she tried being independent she couldn’t do it alone. But what if he decided to leave? He certainly had the right to. She would not only be in trouble with the ranch, she would miss him, she realized. Jonathon had become a good friend to her. If Jonathon decided to move on or marry, she had no choice but to wish him well and pray for his happiness; she could do no less for her friend.

She had no illusions, though; she knew if he moved on she would be lost on the ranch. She had the unsettling feeling that Jonathon stood between her and something more ominous than she had yet to experience.

Alexandria shivered and forced her thoughts elsewhere.

What would her family do for her birthday? She was still in mourning so any kind of formal gathering was out of the question. She knew she was to join them for a special meal and figured that would be all this year. Alexandria sighed; she was tired of pretending to mourn. She missed Elijah’s friendship but a friend was all she had lost.

Jonathon entered the barn and frowned. Why was there a lantern burning in the loft? No one had any reason to be up there this time of morning. He climbed the ladder and paused at the top to smile. Alexandria sat crossed legged in the hay, a kitten curled in her lap. Wisps of hair had escaped her braid and created a dark halo around her head. She looked for all the world like a little girl.

“What are you doing out here so early?” Jonathon asked.

Alexandria looked up at him and smiled. “Thinking. I had bad dreams and couldn’t sleep,” she answered as Jonathon sat down beside her.

“What about?”

“Different things. It’s been a while since I had some time to myself…”

“I can leave,” Jonathon was already starting to stand. Alexandria stopped him with her hand on his arm.

“Stay. My thoughts were getting me nowhere.”

“I love this time of year,” Jonathon commented as though just noticing that it was a beautiful morning. “Everything is slowly coming to life and mornings are crisp and new, kind of like early apples.”

Alexandria was smiling beside him. “You aren’t a poet are you, Jonathon?”

Jonathon laughed.               “No, but I do enjoy poetry.”

“You like poetry?” her head tilted inquisitively.

“Very much. Longfellow is one of my favorites, but I think Shakespeare is definitely at the top.”

“Shakespeare?” Alexandria looked shocked.

“What?” Jonathon demanded.

Alexandria was still staring at him in amazement. “You know Shakespeare?”

“’To be or not to be, that is the question:

Whether it is nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune…’ yes I know Shakespeare, now quit staring at me like that.”

“Hamlet,” Alexandria smiled. “’Fie, Fie! Unknit that threatening, unkind brow,

And dart not scornful glances from those eyes

To wound thy Lord, thy king, thy Governor.

It blots the beauty as frosts do bite the meads,”

“Taming of the Shrew,” Jonathon cut her off.

“You do know Shakespeare.”

“Why is that so shocking?” Jonathon asked her; she shrugged.               “Do you like his sonnets or just his plays?”

“I like his sonnets, but I’m not as familiar with them,” Alexandria admitted.

“’Let me not into the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alterations finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove.

O, no, it is an ever-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be

Taken

Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks