{"id":1239,"date":"2019-02-14T23:39:49","date_gmt":"2019-02-15T04:39:49","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/read.whitefire-publishing.com\/?p=1239"},"modified":"2020-06-01T09:07:19","modified_gmt":"2020-06-01T13:07:19","slug":"alarmingly-charming","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/alarmingly-charming\/","title":{"rendered":"Alarmingly Charming"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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Alarmingly Charming<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

by Debra E. Marvin<\/a>
Based on Northanger Abbey<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

As travel companion to her condescending cousin, Philadelphian Kathryn Morton dreamily anticipates a week in the Wild West as the best cure for meekness. After a long rail journey and a steady diet of gothic dime novels, she shivers, despite the Texas heat, at the ghastly tales of the Austin Axe Murderer. Kathryn has little time to fret, given the competing attentions of quiet rancher Harmon Gray and elegant gentleman Jonathan Wellington. With her new-found confidence and her boundless imagination, she sets out to solve the mystery of Hyde Park Cemetery before another student flees Austen Abbey. Only then can she return home to her English-born parents as an independent American woman. A woman in love. But on the stormiest of nights, Kathryn learns that solving the mystery may destroy a future with the man she\u2019s fallen for in a big Texas way.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n

\n\t\t\t\t\t

Chapter 1<\/span><\/span><\/h3>\n\t\t\t\t\t

Austin, Texas 1887<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kathryn Morton turned the page\u2026.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We\npulled the horses up near a small copse of woods, leaving Slim nestled like a\nsnake between two boulders. The rest of us, including Jesse himself, piled\nlarge stones between the rails. At the mournful song of the whistle, we raised\nour masks, and I beheld the approaching locomotive\u2019s smoke in the distance. My\nheart pounded with anticipation.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kathryn pressed her forehead to the\ntrain window and peered through the spot she\u2019d previously wiped clean. Wide,\nscruffy land filled the endless horizon. Now that she thought of it, those\ntrees did seem rather menacing. She nudged her glasses up her nose and returned\nto the dime novel. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

We\nset about to make a great noise, firing eighteen or twenty shots, as the train\ncame to a standstill.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The rattling rock of the railcar\nslowed, though they were still out in the middle of nowhere. A sudden clatter\nof footsteps on metal, and her mouth went dry as the landscape.       <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Train robbers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On the roof.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

One would shoot the coalman in cold\nblood. Then the driver, if he didn\u2019t act quickly. The train would stop.\nMask-wearing, six-gun toting, sour-breathed bandits bent on thieving and\ndestruction would appear, disproving Mother\u2019s insistence she\u2019d surely be killed\nby Indians.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kathryn\u2019s foot tapped as fast as\nher wild heart. Why hadn\u2019t she used the lavatory?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Cousin Jane, asleep beside her,\nremained blissfully unaware of impending doom. A faint glistening pooled at the\ncorner of her mouth. She was too well bred to drool. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cJane! Wake up!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Another clink-clank. The robber\nmight be Jesse James himself. No, she\u2019d seen his death photo, and he had not\nlooked well. Not well at all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The railcar door flew open,\nintensifying the clackety-clack.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This was it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Horrified, she faced the round,\npink-cheeked conductor who paused by their seats. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

He nudged his hat off his sweaty\nforehead. \u201cExcuse me, miss, but we\u2019ll be arriving within the half hour.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kathryn grasped the ruffles at her neck.\n\u201cWhat about the bandits?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The conductor cocked his head. \u201cAre\nyou all right, miss?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Embarrassment warmed her face, and\nshe moved her hand casually along her jaw. \u201cYes. I\u2019m fine. Thank you.\u201d He\nappeared relieved to move on.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jane rubbed her eyes. \u201cPut that\ndreadful story away before you scare yourself senseless.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kathryn complied. She always\ncomplied. Jane was five years her junior with ten times her spunk. Jane\u2019s\nfuture held a year of finishing school in Austin. Kathryn was along as\ncompanion for propriety\u2019s sake only\u2014a brown mouse tagging behind a golden\nlioness. Jane was well able to take care of herself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Cousin Jane fluffed the mounds of\nunnatural curls framing the only feature they shared\u2014large amber eyes. \u201cI hope\nyou don\u2019t expect to read during your entire week\u2019s stay. I\u2019ve heard there are\nmany amusements around the city, and that we must avoid the riverfront.\u201d She\nopened her reticule and checked her face in a tiny mirror. \u201cWhich only makes me\nmore anxious to go. I find I quite adore adventure.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut your mother said\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cKathryn. Honestly.\u201d Jane sighed\nand shook her head. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kathryn pinned her straw hat into\nher topknot and watched the countryside pass. Jane\u2019s frustration was just a\nreflection of what sat lumped inside Kathryn\u2019s chest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mesquite and Mexicans, cattle and\ncowboys. The trip from Philadelphia to Austin had been worth all of Jane\u2019s\npitying remarks because she, Kathryn Patience Morton, would, in one short week,\nreturn home to her very proper Cheapside-born parents, a modern American\ndaughter. Confident, brave, and independent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She had no idea how she\u2019d do it.\nBut she\u2019d try, by gum.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Well, she wouldn\u2019t take any risks.\nAnd she\u2019d be very careful. Caution never hurt. There was no need to be foolish,\nof course.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n

Last off the train, Kathryn\nfollowed Jane down two narrow steps onto the platform. With one quick motion\nKathryn checked her hat and adjusted her bustle. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

And then<\/em> remembered to survey for prying eyes. Not that anyone looked\nat her when Jane was around.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She hurried to catch up as Jane\nmarched toward the shade of the station. \u201cIs someone supposed to meet us,\nCousin?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOf course.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A mustached young gentleman stepped\nforward, an older man trailing him. \u201cLadies, are you two by chance the Misses\nRadcliffe and Morton?\u201d His gaze went to each as he named them, presumably\nadvised of their descriptions. Miss\nMorton will be the dull one with glasses.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy yes, we are, sir,\u201d Jane\npurred. \u201cHow ever did you guess?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kathryn studied the station\narchitecture, trying not to stare at the man who dressed and spoke as any fine\nPhiladelphian, and appeared to be in his mid-twenties. She felt Mother\u2019s shove\nfrom a thousand miles away. A male with all his teeth? Perfect marriage\nmaterial.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThere is no mistaking you have\njust come from the east, and\u201d\u2014he leaned closer\u2014\u201cquality always tells.\u201d After directing\nthe older man away, he removed his hat, bowing his oiled, unmovable dark hair\nover Jane\u2019s hand. \u201cI\u2019m Jonathan Wellington. The second. My aunt, Mrs. Collins,\nhas asked me to escort you back to the Abbey.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe abbey, sir?\u201d Kathryn asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh, yes, forgive me. It\u2019s the name\ngiven the school by the girls. Now, let us be on our way.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jane opened her parasol and stepped\nin the direction of Mr. Wellington\u2019s gesture, yet it was Kathryn whom Mr.\nWellington\u2019s direct gaze sought out so that he might offer her his arm. \u201cAllow\nme. I\u2019ve taken care of everything. Frank, my aunt\u2019s handyman, will follow us\nwith your trunks.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She accepted his escort out of the\nstation, though it made no sense. Jane was the beauty in the family<\/a>, the one\nwith charm, confidence, and\u2014the great equalizer\u2014money. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt is but a mile\u2019s ride, Miss\nMorton. Barely time to appreciate my new phaeton.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The red-spoked wheels must have\ninspired his choice of ascot tie. \u201cYou won\u2019t\ndrive too fast, will you sir?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jane climbed into the seat, her tsk tsks<\/em> finding their target. \u201cCome along,\nKathryn. Sit in the middle so I don\u2019t have to worry about you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bless Jane\u2019s heart for not voicing\nthe as you know how clumsy you are, dear<\/em>.\n   <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The space barely accommodated\nskirts and padding and bustles when she wedged herself between them. Mother would\nhave an apoplexy at such intimacy. The buggy leapt forward, and he bent nearer.\nThe coconut oil fragrance of Macassar Hair Tonic flooded her senses.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt is best if you hold my arm,\nMiss Morton.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She abstained until one\nparticularly jarring hole lifted her off the seat while she held down her\nwind-blown hat. Emboldened, she slipped her hand around his upper arm. The\nincreased pounding of her heart, faster than the horses\u2019 hooves flying in front\nof her, made her woozy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And that wouldn\u2019t do.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Determined to be the new, confident\nKathryn, she breathed deeply and returned his next smile. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then it was over. With an abrupt\nstop in the Jeannette C. Austen Academy for Young Ladies\u2019 circular driveway,\nher grip fell away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLadies!\u201d The enthusiastic welcome\npreceded the tightly corseted matron bustling down the wide stairs. \u201cHow nice\nto have you here. My, you look just like your mother, Miss Radcliffe. How\nfondly I look back on our school year together.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After introductions, Kathryn only\nhalf listened to her cousin\u2019s dramatic recounting of their journey and instead\nfocused on their hostess. Mrs. Collins, her warm dark eyes twinkling, appeared\nyounger than Aunt Cassandra, and maybe a bit more fun. Her lovely English\naccent seemed unaltered by years in Texas.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At the handyman Frank\u2019s arrival,\nKathryn slipped away from the small talk, and despite his insistence, gathered\nher carpetbag. Her heart sank as she watched him hoist the weight of Jane\u2019s immense\ntrunk, given the decided impairment in his shoulder. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPlease, sir, can\u2019t someone help\nyou with that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He paused. \u201cI\u2019m fine, miss.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her stomach clenched with instant\nregret. Her fussing had embarrassed him. She pivoted and promptly collided with\na cowboy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh!\u201d In a futile attempt to cover\nher gaping mouth, the bag dropped at his feet. \u201cOh!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He tipped his hat as he dipped to\nretrieve it, barely breaking his gaze. \u201cMiss.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She should not stare into such\namused hazel eyes, or notice they were framed with dark lashes. She shouldn\u2019t\nnotice that his brows and what she could see of his hair at his ears and collar\nshone a sun-bleached light brown. And she most certainly shouldn\u2019t stand there\nunable to speak or move.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Lizzie Bennet would say something\nclever. Fictional heroines always did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He walked from the buggy to the\nbuilding and placed the bag with the others on the verandah. Still she stood.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMiss Morton,\u201d Mrs. Collins called.\n\u201cCome join us. You too, Harmon. Frank will take care of the rest, but I\nappreciate your concern.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The handsome cowboy was already\nwalking away. \u201cThank you, but I have to be getting back to the ranch.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Like a practiced sleuth, Kathryn\noh-so-cautiously watched from the corner of her eye\u2014only to be caught when he\nglanced back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Did cowboys no longer have bowed\nlegs? This man\u2019s legs\u2026his\u2026and his shoulders. There seemed nothing amiss. He\ndisappeared around the massive gray stone building, and she\u2019d taken two\nsleepwalker\u2019s steps to follow before she saw him mounting the back of a\nbeautiful dark horse. Such strength. And ease.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cKathryn! Come along.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBe right there, Jane.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n

Within the hour Kathryn was seated\nin a spacious double parlor with Jane, Mrs. Collins, Mr. Wellington, and two\nstudents, Eleanor and Isabella. The girls were agreeable company, thankfully,\nfor in one week, she was to companion Isabella as far as Richmond on the return\ntrip.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The second time she noticed Mr.\nWellington\u2019s blue-eyed stare, Kathryn surreptitiously wiped her face, sure she\nmust be wearing crumbs from the imported tea biscuits she\u2019d presented their\nhostess. She removed her glasses, wiped at her face again, and closed her eyes\nfor a respite.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMiss Morton, I do believe you need\nsome rest.\u201d Mrs. Collins\u2019s tone was warm but did not invite argument. \u201cPlease,\ndo not stay for our ramblings.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThank you.\u201d The moment she stood,\nMr. Wellington was at her side.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He took her hand and bent over it.\n\u201cConsider me your guide to our city this week. Nothing would give me more\npleasure.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThank you for your kindness.\u201d Her\ndigestive biscuit threatened retreat. Nausea often accompanied a case of\nnerves, but honestly, one would think she\u2019d never had a gentleman\u2019s interest\nbefore. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

And they\u2019d be right.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She tugged her hand from his and\nleft the room, climbing to the second floor room she would share with Jane. At\nthe top of the richly carpeted stairs, a broad window drew her, and she pushed\nthe sheers back. Where had that cowboy gone?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Once behind the heavy oak door, she\nsighed at the gift of solitude. The spacious cream-colored bedroom offered a\nbalcony, currently in shade. She removed her shoes and skirt, her petticoat and\nbustle, her stays and stockings, and lay on the canopied bed in her shift, the\nmost luxurious comfort she\u2019d had in a week\u2019s time. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

She stretched and wiggled, unable\nto hold back a smile. What would mother think of her now? Paid such attentions\nby a very polite gentleman, but thinking more of the rugged man who had stolen\nher ability to speak. Was he no more than a cowpuncher? Such a distasteful\nterm. A drifter across an endless sea of brush and Texas dust, fighting in the\nname of justice and all that was good in the world? <\/p>\n\n\n\n

If they were to fall in love, would\nshe have to ride a horse? Drive a wagon? Carry a pistol, a rifle? Would she\nhave to save the ranch? Or worse? Learn how to cook?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She sighed and closed her eyes to\nsleep.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The\nIndians\u2019 war cries sent gooseflesh across her shoulders. Their horses pounded\nthe parched earth, and her lungs burned as she ran for her very life. They were\nright behind her. She glanced back. She wasn\u2019t going to make it. She stumbled\nbut was caught up by a strong arm, in a blur of dark fabric and dark horse.\nHe\u2019d come for her! She sat behind Harmon, clinging to his muscular body as they\nout-ran the Comanche raiders. Their lead lengthened until they were at the top\nof a scrubby rise. The horse protested when Harmon pulled him up to a sliding\nstop. Dismounting before the dust settled, he swung Kathryn down into his arms.\nHis hands lingered at her waist, even after her feet were solidly on the ground,\nand he gazed at her with those unforgettable hazel eyes.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMiss\nMorton, are you all right?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2013I\nthink so.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThen,\nI can wait no longer. I must know. Can you ever love me?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh\nyes, Mr. Cowboy.\u201d<\/em> Her eyes flew open. Mr. Cowboy? <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kathryn let her head relax again\ninto the pillow, more convinced than ever that locomotive travel addled the\nbrain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n

\u201cKathryn!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The brisk shaking of her shoulder\nproved she\u2019d finally fallen asleep. \n\u201cJane. Stop. I\u2019m awake. What is it?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou must get ready.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It took her a moment to rise and\ndress. Her cousin\u2019s devoted assistance roused her suspicions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDo you have any idea of the\nconquest you have made, Kathryn?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

All that from just one of the\ncowboy\u2019s glances? Could it be? Her heart drummed in delight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMr. Wellington made no doubts of\nhis interest in you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

 Oh. That. She turned away. \u201cI\u2019m sure he is\njust being kind.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDon\u2019t be silly.\u201d Jane grabbed\nKathryn\u2019s shoulder. \u201cThis is it. The chance we\u2019ve waited for, and I\u2019m not going\nto let you ruin it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kathryn pulled away. Breathe. Slowly.<\/em> <\/p>\n\n\n\n

She\u2019d come here determined to make\na change, and the first step was standing up to her cousin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Only, not right now. Not when her\nhead pounded at the thought of a suitor. Goodness sakes, she wanted a\nsuitor\u2014she\u2019d long dreamed of a suitor. And now that he was here\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He didn\u2019t suit her at all.
<\/p>\n\n\n