A Headstrong Woman(2)
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 will,” 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 One
Six 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.