or looked at in that way.
Elijah closed his eyes and recalled Martha’s image, her white blonde curls framing her petite, heart shaped face, her soft womanliness nestled next to him night after night; he could almost feel the warmth of her now. Martha had been so small, so dainty in her femininity; completely opposite of Alexandria. That had, in fact, contributed in his choosing her.
He was aware that Alexandria was a very beautiful woman in her own right. That hadn’t been why he had chosen her, however. He had seen the steel back bone in her willowy figure and had known that she would make a good rancher’s wife. He had seen her common sense and no nonsense approach with Lilly. Practical summed up what he had seen. What he hadn’t taken the time to see, hadn’t wanted to see, was the sensitive heart below the tough veneer. Nor had he allowed himself to see her girlish dreams of a blissful marriage. Elijah sighed and laid his head back against his seat. How was he ever going to fix this mess?
Alexandria lay in her bed, her thoughts in turmoil. What had Elijah wanted to say? Did he really want to establish a relationship with her? What kind of a relationship? That of a real husband and wife? Did she even want that anymore? She was a coward; she should have heard him out, regardless how painful his words might have proven. She should march back down the stairs and hash this out right now! She didn’t. She lay there for what felt like hours, her thoughts chasing themselves like a puppy after its own tail. She heard Elijah’s bedroom door open and close and she knew he had at last gone to bed. Still she lay awake, her thoughts taunting her.
Alexandria finally tossed aside her covers in frustration and without bothering with her dressing gown, slipped into the moonlit hallway, down the stairs, and into the dark kitchen. After lighting a lamp, she fixed herself a glass of water and moved to the table before seating herself to stare at the lamp. How had she gotten here? She watched the flame of the lamp sway first one way and then another before settling back into a straight line. She who had thought she saw things so clearly now wondered if she saw anything as it was at all.
Alexandria jumped when Elijah settled at the table across from her. Her spine immediately stiffened and her chin came up; her gaze was unflinching as it met his.
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” his dark blue eyes were dark with regret.
“Apology accepted. I’m sorry I didn’t see things more clearly. I knew how deeply you loved Martha; I should have known you weren’t ready to move on,” Alexandria admitted her own short sightedness.
“I’m so sorry, Alexandria.”
“What’s done is done,” Alexandria lifted one slender shoulder and let it fall.
“We were friends once, weren’t we?” Elijah’s gaze searched hers earnestly, as though he didn’t quite know the answer.
“We were,” she acknowledged.
“Could would be again you think? Could we learn to be friends and… and then see from there?” His gaze was hopeful as he watched her and Alexandria stared at him a moment. Forever stretched before them, ‘til death do us part’ according to the wedding vows.
“I would like that,” her voice was soft.
“Me too,” he offered her a smile.
Alexandria stood to place her glass in the galvanized sink and Elijah stood to escort her to her room. Now with the light to her back, Elijah could clearly see her feminine form outlined. She might be built differently from Martha but she was no less feminine, he realized in sudden unsettling clarity.
Elijah swallowed hard.
Jonathon’s words rang true at the moment. Physically knowing someone was one thing; really knowing them was another. He wouldn’t do that to Alexandria. To claim his rights as her husband knowing he didn’t love her and that their “friendship” was tenuous at best would feel as though he were using her. No, he would wait.
“Are you alright?”