obediently. Anna came to sit beside her and hugged her tight for a moment.
“I’m so sorry, Lexie,” Anna offered. A light knock at the door saved Alexandria from answering. Carolyn quickly stood and emitted Russ, who had just returned from town.
“Mr. Reid, from the undertaker’s, said they would bring the body just as soon as they finished. He had already completed a lot by the time I arrived; it shouldn’t be long,” the man’s voice carried on the heavy, quiet air.
“Thank you, Mr. Morgan. There is coffee on the stove if you would like to help yourself to some,” Carolyn offered.
“Thank you, Ma’am.”
Carolyn returned to the room and addressed them all at once. “It won’t be long now.”
“Rusty brought back word that Elijah’s parents would be on the next train out of Jasper,” Clay relayed the earlier message.
“What of Pastor Anderson?” Carolyn inquired.
“He was out on another call. Sharon was going to send him as soon as he returns,” Clay moved to a chair and seated himself.
“I’ll check the coffee,” Millie jumped up to leave. Alexandria wished that she could busy herself; it was going to be a long night.
***
Elijah’s body had been delivered and the dark casket seemed to shrink the room, dominating it with a pall. Jonathon mused on this as he watched the group gathered around him. Alexandria’s immediate family comprised the core group, along with himself. Several of the hands had filtered in and out and the pastor had come and gone. At moment Millie was resting before the morning round of callers began. Anna sat beside her brother, the two conversing quietly. Clay stood, one arm propped on the fireplace mantel, looking tired and troubled. Carolyn, her face drawn, sat beside a silent Alexandria. Jonathon could understand why she was concerned.
Alexandria had sat quietly and had said little all night. Despite being surrounded by her family, Alexandria seemed removed and cut off; like an island, visible from afar but separated by a gulf. She had been handed a cup of coffee which she drank. The plate of food she had been handed sat untouched on a small table beside her. She wasn’t dealing well; more like she wasn’t dealing at all. Jonathon knew all the symptoms, the squared, determined shoulders; the unnatural calm. He had been the same; determined to make it through without going to pieces in front of the world. It had finally caught up with him on the middle of a dusty road somewhere between here and home. He had been riding along under a gray sky one minute and crying uncontrollably the next.
Jonathon stirred himself from his dark thoughts and decided he should check in with the men before the day got underway and hectic. He had made a promise to Elijah and he intended to keep it. He was beginning to understand why the man had been concerned for Alexandria. She was clearly too stubborn for her own good.
“Hey, Jonathon, how are they in there?” Sparky greeted him as soon as he entered the bunkhouse.
“Solemn.”
“I kinda figured that. Is Mrs. Morris holding up okay?”
“Hard to say,” Jonathon shrugged. It was hard to explain to someone who hadn’t been there. After checking in that everyone had their orders he returned to the house and was relieved to find that Alexandria had at least moved to the kitchen. She now sat at the table, a plate of pancakes and bacon in front of her.
“You need to eat, honey,” her mother cajoled her.
“I just don’t have an appetite,” Alexandria protested and pushed the plate away.
“Try? Please, for me?”
Alexandria picked up a piece of bacon, took a bite and slowly chewed without any real interest.
“Come in, Mr. Stewart, would you like some breakfast?” Carolyn addressed him.
“That would be nice, thanks,” Jonathon moved to the seat across from Alexandria and seated himself; a moment later Millie set a plate of food in front of him.
“Thank you, Millie.”
Jonathon buttered his biscuit and pancakes and dribbled syrup over them before opening his napkin to place it in his lap. He wasn’t particularly hungry himself, he realized as he picked up his fork. At the head of the table, Clay’s food set mostly untouched as well.
Jonathon looked up to find Alexandria watching him, her brows slightly furrowed. He met her gaze and wondered what answer she was looking for as her eyes seemed to question him. He watched tears threaten and watched her just as quickly fight them.
“It’s okay to cry,” he offered softly, for her ears alone.