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Authors: Michelle Maness

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BOOK: A Headstrong Woman
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“What do you suggest?” Alexandria’s eyes pleaded for a solution.               Jonathon looked down into her up turned face before glancing to the window. He didn’t know how any woman could be so strong and vulnerable at the same time.

 

***

 

“What are we doing?” Alexandria asked as Jonathon handed her Elijah’s gun. The sheriff had just finished his investigation and left.

“I’m going to teach you to defend yourself,” Jonathon informed her. Alexandria glanced at the gun that lay heavily in her hand before looking back to Jonathon and nodding.

“I like that idea,” she smiled.

“Me too, especially since trouble seems to follow you.”

“Thanks,” she said; Jonathon smiled.

He had set up several cans along a back rail of the corral adjacent to the barn and made a barrel into a table for the needed supplies.

“First of all, Alexandria, you need to get a firm grip on the gun. It won’t bite you,” Jonathon told her as he placed her hands on the gun. “Now,” he leaned down beside her, “you see the site on the end? Line that up with your target. Do you see how the can is directly at the end?” he asked. She smelled of lilacs.

“Yes,” she swallowed hard. She wasn’t used to being this close to a man, or at least not in the absence of a crisis she amended.

“Hold that and shoot,” he instructed and stepped away from her. Alexandria fired and sent a can flying from the fence.

“Good,” Jonathon smiled. “Try it again.” He watched as she carefully aimed and sent another can flying from the fence.

His brow rose, “Is there anything you can’t do?”

Alexandria looked over at him and smiled. “Hmm,” she pretended to consider it “I’ll let you know; I’m certain there is.”

“You’re very confident,” he told her.

“If you’re trying to start an argument it won’t work. I’m getting too old for it,” she bit back a smile. She fired again and again hit her target. She was determined not to let last night spook her; she was going to go on with her life and not let them best her. Arguing playfully with Jonathon gave the day some semblance of normalcy.

“You are?” Jonathon was amused. “How old are you, Alexandria?”               “Old enough,” she quipped before firing.

“How old?”

“Old enough to be out of school and married.” Alexandria was smiling as she aimed her gun and fired again.

“Thirty?” Jonathon knew she wasn’t older than he was.

“No!”

“So how much of an age gap was there between you and Elijah?”

“More than ten,” she admitted.

“More than ten?” Jonathon gawked at her. By his estimate that put her at around twenty-three or twenty four, best he could tell anyway. “I thought that you were older than that,” he admitted.

“Nope, nineteen next month,” she said nonchalantly.

Jonathon stared at her in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

Alexandria turned and frowned at him. “What do you mean am I serious? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re only eighteen?” his voice was still disbelieving.

“Let me see, nineteen…yep eighteen comes before nineteen,” she nodded.

Jonathon shook his head. Most women twice her age would not have held up half as well as she had under similar circumstances. He hadn’t realized she was so young. “You’re absolutely amazing,” he blurted what he was thinking.

“What?” Alexandria frowned at him; her cheeks were stained pink.

“Your comportment of yourself, the way you’ve handled the ranch…it does explain a few things though,” Jonathon muttered as he continued to stare at her as though she were a mystery. “What are your parents thinking letting you take this on by yourself?”

“I’m not a kid, Jonathon,” she shrugged; she was both flattered by his words and uncomfortable with them at the same time.

“What if someone hurts you…?”

“I’m a widow, Jonathon, not a school girl,” she reminded him before turning back to the cans on the fence post. “Quit staring at me like that,” she said before firing her last shot.

“Why?”

“It bothers me,” she informed him and walked over to the fence, climbed it, and claimed the cans she had shot. Five of the eleven cans had been knocked from the fence. She had fired six shots. Jonathon took each can from her and looked them over, she had done more than graze them; she had put holes through them. He looked at her in amazement.

“You’re good.”

“You taught me,” she shrugged.

“Alexandria, I put the gun in your hand and showed you how to point it.”

“There’s more to learning?” she asked with a frown.

Jonathon shook his head and set the cans back on the fence. “For you there isn’t.”

“What about the shotgun? Should I try it?” she asked him and they walked back to the barrel they were using as a table.

“You can, but I must warn you, it kicks, so brace yourself.”

“I will,” she said confidently. She lifted the gun to her shoulder, fired, and went sprawling into Jonathon who stood directly behind her. She could hear him chuckling.

“I told you to brace yourself,” his voice in her ear caused a funny sensation to run down her spine and she shuddered. “Try again,” he said after he had set her back on her feet. He kept his hands at her waist to steady her as she tried again. She stayed on her feet and came close to hitting her target. The next time she tried, she did hit her target. She gratefully put some space between herself and her foreman and laid the shotgun aside before rotating her shoulder.

“I’m glad to know how to use that thing, but I prefer the small one,” she said as she grabbed it and began practicing.

“She’s not bad,” Sparky said to Jonathon who was now leaning against the other side of the corral they were working in.

“She’s not,” Jonathon acknowledged.

“Spirit is used to guns isn’t he?” Alexandria joined them.

“That depends on why you’re asking,” Jonathon replied.

“I want to try it while riding,” she told him.

“Promise me you won’t hurt yourself or any other living creature?” he peered at her doubtfully.

“Are you saying I can’t do it?” her chin came up.

“I would never tell you that you can’t do something,” he was smiling now.

“Why’s that?” she asked, her brow furrowed.

“Because you would think you had to prove me wrong.”

“Probably,” Alexandria acknowledged with a smile.

“Okay, let’s go saddle Spirit,” Jonathon agreed.

 

Anna watched from the porch as Jonathon taught her sister to use a gun. She had resented watching Jonathon comfort her sister that morning but couldn’t bring herself to be angry at Alexandria. Anna had to admit that she would have been equally shaken by the event and likely would have clung to her rescuer too. What was harder to ignore was the way that Jonathon leaned in close to her sister, the smiles they kept exchanging and certainly the way her sister landed right in his arms causing him to chuckle. Or the way he helped her regain her footing, his hands on her waist and then keeping them there! Anna felt like screaming. She had been trying for weeks to get his attention, a real smile, or a compliment: anything besides his polite words that might give her hope that she stood a chance. Instead he was busy
catching
her sister!

She watched her sister resume practicing with the handgun as Jonathon talked with Rusty. A few moments later when they entered the barn, she started to go back into the house but decided against it. Upon leaving the barn, Jonathon spotted her and joined her.

“Hello, Ms. Cannon, how are you today?” he inquired.

“Fine and you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Mr. Stewart, we have known each other some time now and see each other quite often, would I offend you if I asked that we use our given names?” she asked him; she hoped that she wasn’t being too forward.

Jonathon looked hesitant and then smiled. “I suppose that we could.”

“Thank you. I feel so stuffy calling you Mr. Stewart all the time while Alexandria calls you Jonathon.”

“Sure. Nice day isn’t it?”

“It is. Has she taken to it?” Anna asked, although she could see that Alexandria had. Alexandria was now wheeling the horse around as she prepared to take another shot.

“She has, but that doesn’t surprise me, your sister is one of those people who will always do those things they set out to do. She’s a very strong person.”

“She is, at least she wants you to think so. She doesn’t always show it when she’s been hurt or isn’t holding up well beneath the surface,” Anna told him.

Jonathon nodded. “I’ve noticed that.”

“What else have you notice about my sister, Jonathon?” she asked rather pointedly.

Jonathon looked both surprised and unsettled. “Are you asking if I’m interested in your sister?” he watched her color.

“Are you?”

“I admire Alexandria a great deal. She is a good friend, however, losing my wife was one of the hardest things I ever had to deal with and I’m not in a hurry to move on just yet,” he answered her honestly.

Anna felt hope surge through her. She was sixteen, or almost seventeen. She could wait a while; would wait a while.

“Does Lexie know this?” she asked.

“Yes, but that aside I can promise you that your sister doesn’t see me as a potential suitor, Anna. In fact, she has quite a chip on her shoulder where men are concerned as you yourself more or less pointed out. ‘God help the man who tries’ I believe you said.”

Anna could feel color spreading up her neck and cheeks; she hadn’t meant to be so obvious.

“She’s not bad,” Tristan caught them off guard.

Jonathon glanced up to where Tristan sat atop his horse and wondered where the man had come from.

“She’s a natural shot actually,” Jonathon shared. Alexandria had spotted their guest and joined them. She lightly secured her mount to the rail.

“I wanted to check on you,” Tristan informed her. “I’m sure last night must have been pretty traumatic.”

“I’m fine; thanks for your help.”

“I’m glad I could help. Alexandria, it’s dangerous for a woman to be alone, especially an attractive woman. I’m glad to see you learning to protect yourself but if you need me please call on me. I’m sure this is a great group of cowboys but you need more protection than they can offer,” he voiced his concern.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Alexandria’s smile was strained. “Thanks again for the help.”

A heavy silence followed her comment before Tristan shifted uncomfortably and spoke.

“I can see you’re busy, but please, Alexandria, be careful.”

“I will be,” she promised.

Tristan bid them all good day before Alexandria returned to practice her shooting from a standing position; she left the horse at the rail.

“He makes me nervous,” Anna admitted.

“I’m not sure what to make of him,” Jonathon admitted.

“He’s interested in Alexandria,” Anna shared. “He has been since she was fifteen but didn’t get his nerve up to call on her and approach Daddy until just before Elijah came into the picture.” Their conversation trailed off as Alexandria approached again and she looked between them suspiciously.

“Why do I get the feeling that you two were talking about me?” Alexandria asked as she grabbed Elijah’s gun belt and put it around her waist.

“What you want a gun belt now?” Jonathon asked in amusement and pointedly ignored her question. Alexandria smiled as she attempted to put it on. A moment later Jonathon stepped in to help her alter it so it would fit her.

Anna felt jealousy burn in her stomach as Jonathon reached both arms around her sister; their faces were mere inches from one another. She felt relief when Jonathon stepped back and surveyed her sister.

“So what do you think?” Alexandria asked after the gun belt was in place and her gun holstered. Jonathon looked her over and chuckled before yanking her hat until it tilted over her eyes.

“You look like a kid plying dress up,” he teased.

Alexandria made a face before moving away to practice her draw. She dropped the gun the first two tries before improving.

Jonathon shook his head in amused amazement and propped himself against the post to watch. Anna admired him and wished she were the one he was watching with avid appreciation.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twelve

 

Alexandria accepted Jonathon’s help climbing over the wagon wheel after their arrival in town. She had some supplies to buy and business to see to and Jonathon had supplies to pick up for the men. Her first stop was the dry goods store and then the bank. Alexandria had just entered the lobby of the bank when Mr. Moody approached.

“Mrs. Morris, how fortunate that you should stop by; might I speak with you a moment?” he inquired politely.

Alexandria grew nervous. She could think of no good reason he might have for wanting to speak with her.

BOOK: A Headstrong Woman
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