A Headstrong Woman Read online




  A Headstrong Woman

  Michelle Maness

  © Wendy Michelle Maness

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to anyone living or deceased is coincidental. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without prior written permission.

  This book is dedicated to Sherri Hopper. Thanks for being my guinea pig and reading and critiquing my work, often before it is even finished. I couldn’t have done it without you.

  Prologue

  Jonathon Stewart watched as the coffin containing his wife and their stillborn daughter was lowered into the ground. Thunder rumbled overhead as wind whipped rain over those gathered at the graveside. The other mourners stood huddled together sharing umbrellas and comfort. Jonathon stood alone as the rain that washed over him provided the tears that would not come. The deluge that started as they arrived at the graveyard had turned the rich Dakota soil into a sticky quagmire and now ran in rivulets over the mouth of the grave and was starting to fill the bottom. Jonathon shuddered. He and Emily had been eagerly awaiting their first child after a series of miscarriages and still births had left them disappointed. Now he was a widower.

  As the minister stepped back from the hole in the ground, two men stepped forward to thrust their shovels into the wet pile of mud that stood at ready. The mud made a grotesque sucking noise as they lifted their load. The first clump of wet earth hit the coffin with a thud. Jonathon flinched as the sound exploded through him. The second clenched his hands into tight fist that wanted to strike in anger and despair but could find no target. Jonathon spun from the grave and moved toward his mount at a desperate pace.

  His mind numb, Jonathon gave Raven his lead and in minutes they topped a low rise that overlooked his property. Jonathon stopped and surveyed the soggy landscape below him. A cabin sat in the bend of a creek; flowers along the side of the home bowed their heads under the weight of rainwater, and in the distance, just to the south of the home sat stables only a few feet from neatly plowed fields.

  The rain and fog seemed appropriate, lending an air of mourning to a home that on any sunny day would have appeared cheerful and welcoming. Without Emily it would never again be either. Trying hard to ignore the onslaught of memories that assailed him, Jonathon swung from his saddle and pushed open the door. There was the crib draped in the baby blanket Emily had spent hours making; the rocker where she sat each night rubbing her belly and imagining what their little one would be like; their bed where they had shared their love and conceived the child that she had risked everything to have. With a growl of frustration Jonathon yanked open his chifferobe and began shoving things into his bags. Fifteen minutes later he emerged redressed in warm clothing and rain gear and with two saddlebags ready to go. He planned to start riding and not stop until he was forced to look for work.

  “Where are you going?” his brother Ted demanded as he rode into the yard. Jonathon knew that his parents would be close behind.

  “Away,” he swung into the saddle.

  “Do you think you can out run this?”

  “No, but I don’t have to stare reminders in the face on a daily basis either,” Jonathon told his younger sibling.

  “So the rest of us mean nothing?”

  “That is not what I said and you know it. I hope that you never understand what I’m feeling, Ted. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy,” his voice was flat. He rode forward to meet his parents’ buggy; he knew his mother would try convincing him to stay.

  “You’re leaving,” his dad’s eyes were sad but filled with understanding.

  “I need some space to sort through everything,” Jonathon replied.

  “Won’t you stay until the weather clears?” his mother pleaded.

  “I love you, Mom, but I can’t.”

  He watched her nod her understanding. “You’ll write?”

  “I will; I love you all but I can’t stay. Maybe I’ll come back…. maybe I won’t but I can’t stay. Ted, will you look after my place? Any profit from the crop is yours.”

  “I will,” Ted agreed, though he looked as happy as the storm clouds over head.

  “Thank you. I should go,” he was impatient to put space between him and home.

  Dorothy watched her son ride into the fog and hoped that he would find a place of healing. She could understand his loss, had experienced a similar loss herself; a life time ago it seemed. Watching her son now brought it all back. Nathaniel took her hand and she turned to offer her husband a small smile. He knew her story, had been the one to pick up the pieces and help her move on with her life. That was what her son needed now.

  ***

  For once not stopping to mourn her height, Alexandria studied her appearance in the mirror. Alexandria stood an unfashionable five foot nine inches with a slim, willowy figure. Her black hair shimmered and shined in the sunlight that spilled through the window. Her mother had helped her pile the long tresses onto her head to leave her slender neck exposed; a single strand of pearls circled it. Her green eyes, as green as new spring foliage, were solemn but held a hint of hope. Her forehead and generous lips were lined with a hint of worry. Her high cheeks were flushed with excitement and her stubborn chin seemed softer. Not finding anything to take too serious of fault with she allowed herself to relax and smile. It was her wedding day! In an hour she would be walking down the aisle to marry the man she loved. She had feared it would never happen for her though her mother had never understood why. Alexandria knew, though, that she was not like other young women her age and she had feared that would scare the men away. She was too stubborn, too opinionated, and had too little feminine charms to her claim.

  She smoothed the plain white skirt of her wedding gown and pivoted to admire it. It was free of bustle or adornment, a simple form-fitting bodice, with yards of creamy skirt. It was what she had always wanted her wedding dress to be. She could hear the crowds already starting to gather in the yard below.

  “You look wonderful,” her mother commented from the doorway. Alexandria’s gaze met her mother’s in the mirror and she smiled.

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you nervous?”

  “A little, mostly I’m excited.”

  “Are you certain that… he’s a wonderful man but considerably older; you’re certain that this is what you want?”

  “I’m certain,” she replied.

  Her mother nodded. “It won’t be long now, almost everyone is here and is being seated; I’ll just go see if we’re ready.” Her mother turned and disappeared.

  Alexandria gazed around her room one last time. This had been her room for her entire life. Anna, her younger sister, had been next door for as long as she could remember. They had always been close, at times sneaking into each other’s rooms to whisper and giggle their secrets to each other. What would it be like to be in a different home with her husband by her side instead? The silent question made Alexandria blush and consider the night ahead.

  The door opened giving her reprieve from her thoughts as Anna entered. Alexandria once again mused that her sister was the more attractive of the two. Anna was a more feminine height at five foot five. Her hair was more brown than black and her eyes brilliant blue to Alexandria’s green. Her more petite size and large luminous eyes made her a favorite among the young men of their community.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Anna’s eyes were misty with tears. “I know sooner or later we’ll both marry but…” Anna paused and gathered her courage. “It’s too soon, Alexandria; I’m not ready.”

  “I’ll miss you, Anna,” Alexandria commented.

  “I’ll miss you too,” with that her sister was across the room hugging her. “Promise me you’ll visit often?”

  “Of course I wi
ll,” Alexandria laughed. “I’ll only be a few miles away, Anna.”

  “I know,” it came out on a sigh; Alexandria’s smile widened.

  Looks weren’t the only place where the two of them differed; Anna had always been the more dramatic of the two while Alexandria tended to be more practical. It went along with everything else about her, she guessed.

  Anna drifted to the window and Alexandria allowed her thoughts to wander to the events leading up to this day. She had known Elijah Morris her whole life. He had been friends with her parents for years, it wasn’t until his wife had died and left him with a toddler to rear that he had become more to her.

  Word had reached her mother through one of Elijah’s ranch hands that Martha had succumbed to the illness that had plagued her. Shirley had promptly left to offer her assistance and had allowed Alexandria to accompany her. They had arrived to find a dazed Elijah sitting in the middle of what could only be described as chaos. Lilly was screaming at the top of her lungs and demanding her mother and nothing that her grandmother and Elijah’s housekeeper were doing would help. Shirley offered to help Elijah’s mother make decisions about the preparation of the body and instructed Alexandria to help with Lilly. Alexandria had begun singing to Lilly and slowly her screams quieted to intermittent sobs. Alexandria’s tender heart had turned over for the poor motherless child. Alexandria began stopping in frequently to help with Lilly, whose father seemed too lost in his own sorrow to help his daughter and over the course of the following months she had fallen for Elijah not caring that he was nineteen years her senior. When he had asked her to marry him seven months later she had been ecstatic and now the day had finally arrived.

  “It’s time,” her mother announced as she reentered the room. Alexandria, ready to become a wife and step mother, turned and followed her mother.

  Chapter OneSix weeks later

  Alexandria stood in front of the mirror, dressed only in her shift and assessed what she saw. Unruly curls sprang free from her night braid to frame her thin face in an untidy halo. Two small, firm breasts rode high on her chest, no womanly fullness there. Her stomach was flat, she mused and pressed her hand across its narrow expanse; she supposed that was something. Her hips, too narrow for feminine curve, were more angular than rounded. And her ridiculously long legs! They were so unfeminine; so… wrong. No, there was absolutely nothing about her to warrant a man’s attention. Her gaze, trained on her own reflection, seemed to reverse looking backward through time.

  She was standing opposite Elijah again, her insides doing somersaults as she anticipated his kiss, her first real kiss. She felt his warm breath on her cheek as his arms closed around her, could smell the garlic from what he had last eaten at the reception. His lips had been warm on hers and had sent her jittering nerves into high gear. Then suddenly she was chilled, so cold as he abruptly stepped away from her, his arms held stiffly at his sides. His face was horror stricken.

  “I’m sorry, Alexandria, I thought I could do this but I can’t.”

  He had turned and left the room then and left Alexandria to stare after him. His words slowly registered in her mind and took up permanent residence there. They replayed in her mind every time she faced herself in the mirror.

  Alexandria wiped impatiently at her wet cheeks and turned her back on the taunting images opposite her. Elijah had claimed his clothes from the room and moved into a room down the hall. The only thing Alexandria could figure was that Elijah had married her to be a mother to Lilly.

  She loved Lilly, had loved the child ever since the day she was born, however she wanted to be more than a wife in name only and a step-mom. She wanted to love and be loved and she wanted babies of her own; the thought of never having that nearly took her breath away.

  “It’s done now,” she muttered to herself as she dressed in a simple skirt and shirt. After braiding her hair she crossed the hall into Lilly’s room and woke the sleeping child to dress her for the day. She truly did love this little girl.

  “I’m hungry,” Lilly announced as they descended the stairs, her blue eyes still more asleep than alert. Her white blonde hair was restrained in braids at the moment but Alexandria knew that by lunch, curls would be escaping to frame Lilly’s sweet face, lending her a cherubic appearance. Yes, she loved this child; did she love this child enough for that to be her entire future?

  “I’m sure Millie has breakfast almost ready,” Alexandria assured the child as they neared the kitchen.

  She entered to find Millie bustling about as she prepared to set the breakfast table. An older woman, ample in frame, Millie had graying dark blonde hair and warm brown eyes. When Alexandria had first arrived, Elijah had instructed her in the proper way to handle servants. Alexandria’s family had never had more than seasonal field hands in their employ; the idea of a servant was foreign to Alexandria. Elijah had no more than given Alexandria his spiel on servants and then taken her to meet Millie, than Alexandria had promptly discarded his rules and set out to befriend Millie.

  She had learned that Millie had been hired when the mysterious illness that had plagued Martha had first over taken her. Alexandria supposed she had already known that. She had vague remembrances of Elijah and her dad talking about the renovations he was making to the house. Elijah had converted the formal dining room of his large home into living quarters for his newly acquired help. She had also learned that despite the air of formality Martha and Millie maintained that Millie had cared quite deeply for the first Mrs. Morris.

  Elijah didn’t seem particularly pleased that she had befriended the proper house keeper but when he had made his protest she had silently raised her chin in challenge and he had not pressed the matter. If she didn’t befriend Millie who was she supposed to talk with? Elijah? Their conversations had become stilted exchanges of information on Lilly or need to know matters of house business. Maybe she could befriend the hands that Elijah wouldn’t let her anywhere near? Alexandria was now miles away from her mother and sister and the warm camaraderie they had shared day in and day out as they worked. All of her days growing up in the vast, beautiful landscape where neighbors were measured in miles between homes rather than blocks, had not prepared her the isolation of an empty, loveless marriage.

  “Good morning,” Elijah greeted as he entered the kitchen where the two women were working in companionable silence while Lilly nibbled on a piece of toast.

  “Good morning,” Alexandria returned coolly before handing him a cup of coffee. Elijah, his eyes dark with regret, nodded and turned to the table and his daughter. Alexandria caught Millie’s understanding gaze and busied herself with taking the biscuits from the oven. Of course Millie knew the state of Alexandria and Elijah’s pathetic excuse for a marriage; it would be impossible for her not to notice their separate rooms.

  “Here we are,” Millie set a bowl of breakfast potatoes onto the table. “Will there be anything else?”

  “Join us, Millie,” Alexandria invited almost desperately. She managed to cajole Millie into joining them as often as she could; any buffer between her and her husband was welcome.

  “My place isn’t at the table…”

  “Join us, Millie,” Elijah ordered. He seemed almost as relieved as Alexandria for the distraction of another body.

  Alexandria felt relief flood her as she claimed her seat and filled her plate with food she would do little more than pick at. Elijah and Millie chatted as they ate and Alexandria retreated into her thoughts. She was pulled from those thoughts by a knock at the door and looked up curiously as Elijah stood to answer it. Any break in their monotonous routine was welcome to Alexandria.

  “Mornin’ Rand; is there a problem?” Elijah’s deep baritone floated to her ears.

  “No, sir; a man just rode in and says he’s lookin’ for work,” the familiar voiced responded. Rand was good friends with Alexandria’s brother and was engaged to one of her school chums.

  “Well, send him to the house after he has some breakfast and I’ll see him; we cou
ld use some extra help.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Alexandria heard the echo of boots moving away and the click of the door before Elijah’s heavy foot falls brought him back to his breakfast. He and Millie resumed their conversation as though they had never been interrupted.

  Elijah stood after he finished eating, “I’ll be in my office looking over some things.”

  Alexandria watched him leave and then stood to help clear the table.

  “You go on; I know you wanted to get started,” Millie nodded toward the door.

  “Thanks, Millie,” she offered the woman a grateful smile.

  Alexandria scooped Lilly onto her hip to carry the child outside. She wanted to weed the garden and give Lillian a chance to run off some energy before the day heated. She opened the door to stop short as she found herself face to face with buttons, not an altogether common occurrence for her at her height. She titled her head up to meet two cobalt blue eyes that immediately stole her breath at the amount of pain she found there before the man schooled his features and his eyes became guarded. Somehow that pain struck an all too familiar chord in her own heart. Alexandria took a step back and struggled to find her composure. Neither of them had spoken but it seemed as if a moment of kinship had passed silently and inexplicably between them.

  “You must be looking for my husband,” she finally spoke the first acceptable words that came to her mind.

  “Yes, Ma’am,” the man nodded.

  “Follow me,” she instructed and turned to lead him to the nearby office.

  “Elijah, your visitor is here,” she announced and turned to leave.

  Elijah quickly stood and moved to greet the tall, slender man who now filled his office door way.

  “Elijah Morris,” he extended his hand.

  “Jonathon Stewart.”

  The man’s hand shake was firm; that was a good sign. “Come in and have a seat.”