make the call. Her parents needed to know and the pastor…Alexandria penned several notes and gave Jonathon directions on who was to deliver which and to where.
A few minutes later, Jonathon returned to the house to find Alexandria standing in the hallway looking lost.
“Mrs. Morris; is there anything I can do?” Jonathon offered. Alexandria looked at him, blinked, and then seemed to shake her head to clear it.
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. Her gaze fell to his arm and she frowned. “Mr. Stewart, were you hurt?” Alexandria stepped closer; her hand came up to stop just short of touching the fresh blood that had seeped through his coat.
“I’m fine,” he assured her.
“Fine? You’re bleeding! Come on,” this time Alexandria grabbed his uninjured arm and tugged him toward the kitchen.
“Take off your coat and have a seat,” she indicated a chair.
Jonathon obeyed her orders and was seated by the time she lifted a basket off the shelf.
Alexandria surveyed his arm. His shirt was ripped and his arm was definitely bleeding; lifting her when she had gone and fainted like a ninny had likely started it again. Figuring it was ruined anyway; she ripped his shirt sleeve and surveyed his arm.
“If you call this fine I hate to think what you consider a serious injury to be. Brace yourself; this will burn,” she warned as she began cleaning the rather serious flesh wound.
Jonathon sucked in a sharp breath when she doused the wound with lurid yellow liquid and braced himself. He watched her closely as she worked on his arm. She never flinched, not even when her ministrations brought fresh blood pouring down his arm.
“You were shot too?” she asked, though the answer was rather obvious.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“You went to town with the body?” she paused to meet his gaze.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“So why didn’t you see the doctor when he came to pronounce…” she stopped and swallowed hard.
“I was so numb at that point and I was already covered in blood…sorry I shouldn’t…”
“Don’t apologize, Mr. Stewart, I assume you tried aiding my husband, which is why you were such a mess too.”
“Yes, Ma’am, and I honestly wasn’t thinking about my arm at the time. I was half way back here before the pain returned.”
“Thank you; for helping my husband and for catching me when I fainted. I have never fainted in my life.”
“Didn’t figure you had.”
Alexandria blinked at him in surprise.
“You don’t strike me as the weak type.”
“Thank you. I’ve managed to bandage you up but I would still like for the doctor look at this.”
“I’ll have him do that. Thank you, Ma’am. I think I’m going to go get a fresh shirt. If I can help any, you let me know,” Jonathon stood and claimed his coat.
“Leave that; I’ll see what I can do with it,” Alexandria reached for his coat.
Jonathon nodded and handed it to her.
Jonathon left the house and Alexandria started his coat soaking a tub before moving to her room to change. She looked down at her pretty blue skirt and crisp white shirt regretfully. By the time she had finished changing, tears were coursing down her cheeks. As she studied herself in the mirror she only felt worse. She had wronged her husband and could never right and even worse, now she was feeling sorry for herself because she had to wear black; she was a bad person. A tap sounded on her door a moment before her mother entered.
“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” her mom said as she hugged her.
“I’m a bad person,” Alexandria declared.
“No, you’re not,” her mother argued.
“Yes, I am. Just before you came in I was feeling sorry for myself because I have to wear black and I look dead and I turned my husband from my room and…”
“Slow down. Why don’t you start from the beginning?” her mother suggested.
Alexandria backed up and started from the beginning of her miserable marriage right up to the news of her husband’s death.
“You’re not a
A few minutes later, Jonathon returned to the house to find Alexandria standing in the hallway looking lost.
“Mrs. Morris; is there anything I can do?” Jonathon offered. Alexandria looked at him, blinked, and then seemed to shake her head to clear it.
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. Her gaze fell to his arm and she frowned. “Mr. Stewart, were you hurt?” Alexandria stepped closer; her hand came up to stop just short of touching the fresh blood that had seeped through his coat.
“I’m fine,” he assured her.
“Fine? You’re bleeding! Come on,” this time Alexandria grabbed his uninjured arm and tugged him toward the kitchen.
“Take off your coat and have a seat,” she indicated a chair.
Jonathon obeyed her orders and was seated by the time she lifted a basket off the shelf.
Alexandria surveyed his arm. His shirt was ripped and his arm was definitely bleeding; lifting her when she had gone and fainted like a ninny had likely started it again. Figuring it was ruined anyway; she ripped his shirt sleeve and surveyed his arm.
“If you call this fine I hate to think what you consider a serious injury to be. Brace yourself; this will burn,” she warned as she began cleaning the rather serious flesh wound.
Jonathon sucked in a sharp breath when she doused the wound with lurid yellow liquid and braced himself. He watched her closely as she worked on his arm. She never flinched, not even when her ministrations brought fresh blood pouring down his arm.
“You were shot too?” she asked, though the answer was rather obvious.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“You went to town with the body?” she paused to meet his gaze.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“So why didn’t you see the doctor when he came to pronounce…” she stopped and swallowed hard.
“I was so numb at that point and I was already covered in blood…sorry I shouldn’t…”
“Don’t apologize, Mr. Stewart, I assume you tried aiding my husband, which is why you were such a mess too.”
“Yes, Ma’am, and I honestly wasn’t thinking about my arm at the time. I was half way back here before the pain returned.”
“Thank you; for helping my husband and for catching me when I fainted. I have never fainted in my life.”
“Didn’t figure you had.”
Alexandria blinked at him in surprise.
“You don’t strike me as the weak type.”
“Thank you. I’ve managed to bandage you up but I would still like for the doctor look at this.”
“I’ll have him do that. Thank you, Ma’am. I think I’m going to go get a fresh shirt. If I can help any, you let me know,” Jonathon stood and claimed his coat.
“Leave that; I’ll see what I can do with it,” Alexandria reached for his coat.
Jonathon nodded and handed it to her.
Jonathon left the house and Alexandria started his coat soaking a tub before moving to her room to change. She looked down at her pretty blue skirt and crisp white shirt regretfully. By the time she had finished changing, tears were coursing down her cheeks. As she studied herself in the mirror she only felt worse. She had wronged her husband and could never right and even worse, now she was feeling sorry for herself because she had to wear black; she was a bad person. A tap sounded on her door a moment before her mother entered.
“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” her mom said as she hugged her.
“I’m a bad person,” Alexandria declared.
“No, you’re not,” her mother argued.
“Yes, I am. Just before you came in I was feeling sorry for myself because I have to wear black and I look dead and I turned my husband from my room and…”
“Slow down. Why don’t you start from the beginning?” her mother suggested.
Alexandria backed up and started from the beginning of her miserable marriage right up to the news of her husband’s death.
“You’re not a
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