{"id":1242,"date":"2019-02-14T23:55:54","date_gmt":"2019-02-15T04:55:54","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/read.whitefire-publishing.com\/?p=1242"},"modified":"2020-07-20T18:28:40","modified_gmt":"2020-07-20T22:28:40","slug":"romantic-refinements","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/romantic-refinements\/","title":{"rendered":"Romantic Refinements"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<div class=\"wp-block-media-text alignwide\"><figure class=\"wp-block-media-text__media\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"500\" height=\"333\" src=\"http:\/\/read.whitefire-publishing.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/Romantic-refinements.png\" alt=\"\" class=\"wp-image-165\" srcset=\"https:\/\/readmedia.s3.amazonaws.com\/read\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/23135643\/Romantic-refinements.png 500w, https:\/\/readmedia.s3.amazonaws.com\/read\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/23135643\/Romantic-refinements-300x200.png 300w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 500px) 100vw, 500px\" \/><\/figure><div class=\"wp-block-media-text__content\">\n<h3 class=\"wp-block-heading\">Romantic Refinements<\/h3>\n\n\n\n<p> <br><a href=\"https:\/\/www.whitefire-publishing.com\/authors\/anita-mae-draper\/\">by Anita Mae Draper<\/a>, <br>Based on&nbsp;<em>Sense and Sensibility<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Na\u00efve Marion McDermott spurns the love of quiet Brandon Tabor in favor of a handsome cowboy closer to her own age. An idealistic romantic, she wants to be swept off her feet, not aid a has-been Texas Ranger who walks with a limp. Yet something about the steadfast widower draws her close whenever he\u2019s around, and it has nothing to do with her tripping at his feet. But, does Brandon have the fortitude to catch her when she falls?<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n<div class='et-learn-more clearfix'>\n\t\t\t\t\t<h3 class='heading-more'>Chapter 1<span class='et_learnmore_arrow'><span><\/span><\/span><\/h3>\n\t\t\t\t\t<div class='learn-more-content'><p><em>Marianne\u2019s abilities were, in many respects,\nquite equal to Elinor\u2019s.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em>She was sensible and clever; but eager in\neverything:<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em>her sorrows, her joys, could have no\nmoderation.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em>She was generous, amiable, interesting: she\nwas everything but prudent<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>~ Jane Austen, <em>Sense and Sensibility<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em>September 1882, Texas\nHill Country<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Even the jerking and jostling of\nwooden wagon wheels travelling on uneven ground didn\u2019t drop Marion McDermott\u2019s\ngaze from the herd of rangy cowhands watching the action in the corral. Why,\nthe thought that her future husband might be in the batch of hardened,\nheavy-working, hat-wearing men set her heart a-thumping\u2014something the dandies\nback in Austin hadn\u2019t been able to achieve. Poppa\u2019s smile would surely shine\nwhen he heard how seriously she\u2019d taken his warning about marrying a man for\nhis good looks alone. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Yet as Aunt Mattie steered their\noutfit toward the white pickets which surrounded the familiar verandah-decked\nhouse, Marion nervously smoothed the lap of her periwinkle day dress. With its\nlayers of ruffles and lace, it hadn\u2019t been the most practical choice for the\nhour trip from Austin, and as headmistress Mrs. Collins had repeatedly said,\nMarion should continue to work on virtues such as practicality even now that\nshe\u2019d graduated from the Jeannette C. Austen Academy for Young Ladies. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Over by the corral the cowhands\ngazed in Marion\u2019s direction even though the object of their recent attention\nstill bucked with abandon in the corral behind them. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Spotting a familiar handsome face\nsent a hundred butterflies flittering in her stomach. Mr. Jeffrey Whelp could\nvery well be the man to leave this ranch with a proprietary hand on her back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>As he left the rail and sauntered\nher way with the rest of the men, Marion faced the front, her gloved hands\nclosing the silk parasol that matched her fancy travelling dress. Aunt Mattie\nreined in the team beside the fence where Marion\u2019s favorite yellow roses\nrambled along the white pickets. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Marion leaned down from her seat\nfor a satisfying whiff of their heavenly scent. \u201cEverything\u2019s always the same.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Aunt Mattie tied off the lines.\n\u201cNot much changes on a ranch, except for the men. You\u2019ll recognize most of\nthem, especially the ones your poppa sent over. My brother is as stubborn as\nthey come, but he believes in <a class=\"wpil_keyword_link\" href=\"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/?s=family\" title=\"family\">family<\/a>, and I value the support he has shown over\nthe years since your Uncle Raith died. All his blustering at the beginning was\nonly because that is what he thought a big brother was supposed to do. But he\ncame around.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>She nodded toward the outbuildings.\n\u201cI don\u2019t think you\u2019ve met my foreman yet.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>A tall cowboy in a black hat stood\non the stoop of the foreman\u2019s quarters. His off-white shirt and denims were\nmuch like the clothes of the other cowhands, but when he stepped down and\nheaded her way, he lacked the rolling saunter of someone who spent hours in the\nsaddle. Instead, his limping stride appeared jerky and torturous. Beneath a\nwide brim, his sun-creased face showed few signs of youth, and Marion guessed\nhim to be about thirty or so. With his strong, clean-shaven jawline and wide\nshoulders, his overall appearance was that of a striking man any woman would\nhave a hard time forgetting. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Their gazes locked, his directness\nquestioning hers. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>She looked away, annoyed that she\u2019d\nbeen caught staring. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The cowboys drew near with Mr.\nWhelp in the lead, but the foreman was closer. Avoiding his eyes, she stood to\ngreet Mr. Whelp. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>An excited cowboy let out a sharp\nwhoop and threw his hat in the air. One of the still-harnessed horses reared\nhis head. The wagon jerked, tipping Marion off the edge of the open seat and\nsending her into the air. Balance. She caught the foreman\u2019s determined look as\nhe stretched his arms toward her\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Marion flailed her arms in an\nattempt to fall away from the foreman. Even if he tried, she\u2019d probably fall\nthrough his arms and land at his feet. She closed her eyes, unable to stop her\ndownward movement.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Strong arms caught her and lowered\nher to the ground. How could he\u2014?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI always imagined you back in my\narms, Miss McDermott.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Her eyes flew open at the velvety\nvoice of Mr. Jeffrey Whelp. Tall, blond, and blue-eyed, God had truly blessed\nhim with fancy facial features. He held her close. Too close for propriety\u2014not\nclose enough for scandal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>A delicious dilemma.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>She peered up at him coyly. \u201cMr.\nJeffrey Whelp, of all people. Do you still work here?\u201d His muscles tensed\nbeneath her palms, and she imagined the perfect picture they made with her\nblond hair inches from his chest as he gazed down at her in ardent admiration.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>On the other side of the wagon, a\nman cleared his throat. \u201cThat\u2019s one way to make an entrance.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The gravelly voice held no\ndisrespect, yet Marion\u2019s merriment diminished, instinctively suspecting the\nvoice belonged to the ranch foreman. Did he think she\u2019d fallen on purpose? Mr.\nWhelp\u2019s warm hands pulled her closer. Aghast that he\u2014or anyone\u2014would think she\nwas a wanton, she pushed out of his arms. \u201cThank you for being a gentleman, Mr.\nWhelp.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The foreman and Aunt Mattie walked\naround the cowboy calming the jittery horse. With their heads bent together,\ntheir words were too low to catch. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>As they approached, Aunt Mattie\nlooked up. \u201cMr. Whelp, bring Miss McDermott\u2019s things to the house. Serelli will\nshow you where to put them.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>She beckoned Marion forward.\n\u201cMarion, I\u2019d like you to meet my foreman, Mr. Brandon Tabor.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The Rocking R\u2019s foreman tapped the\nbrim of his hat. \u201cMiss McDermott.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>She tipped her head with all the\nelegance taught at the Academy. \u201cMr. Tabor.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI understand you\u2019ll be staying\nwith us for a month.\u201d His voice rasped across the dry air without a speck of\nemotion, although his turbulent green eyes reminded her of Travis Lake in a\nstorm. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYes, I\u2019ve completed my studies at\nthe Jeannette C. Austen Academy for Young Ladies and have one month to spend\nwith Aunt Mattie before going back to my father\u2019s ranch.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Jeffrey Whelp passed them, his arms\nfull of travel bags. \u201cI\u2019ll be back for the trunk, Tabor, since I don\u2019t suppose\nyou\u2019ll be able to carry it.\u201d He nudged the picket gate open with his hip then\nstrode up the walk with long, even strides.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Aunt Mattie <em>tsk<\/em>ed. \u201cBrandon, I don\u2019t know why you keep that young man. If it\nweren\u2019t for you, I\u2019d have fired him months ago.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Fire Mr. Whelp? Marion bit her lip\nto curb her outburst\u2014something she never would have done before attending the\nAcademy. Although Poppa would be pleased at her restraint, something more\nimportant had come to light in that exchange\u2014the confirmation that Aunt Mattie\nhad handed control of the ranch to Mr. Tabor. Who was he that Aunt Mattie would\nplace in him the trust of everything she owned?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Mr. Tabor shifted his weight. He\ngrimaced and shifted again, his palm pressed against his hip. \u201cCan\u2019t fire a man\nfor speaking the truth, Aunt Mattie, and it appears he\u2019s right.\u201d His rueful\ngaze settled on the lone trunk in the wagon, but he made no attempt to get it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Used to Poppa\u2019s hard-headed need to\nprove himself better than anyone else regardless of his age and health, Marion\nstared in wonder at Mr. Tabor. Was he truly a man who understood his own\ncapabilities and was confident enough to step back when required? If so, she\nowed Aunt Mattie credit for her choice, because a ranch foreman needed wisdom\nabove all else.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Aunt Mattie looped her arm through\nMarion\u2019s. Instead of escorting her through the gate, however, she drew her\ntoward the group of cowhands loitering nearby. \u201cThe men are waiting to meet\nyou. Come along and put them out of their misery.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>As they approached, the cowboys who\nstill wore their hats yanked them off with sheepish looks. Their humble\ngallantry touched her heart. In turn, she didn\u2019t rush the introductions, giving\nequal time to each regardless of their age. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>At the end of the line, an\nolder-than-Poppa bandy-legged cowboy crumpled his sweat-stained hat in his\nhands. \u201cName\u2019s Ned, Miss McDermott. I worked yer Pa\u2019s ranch when you was just a\nsquirt no bigger\u2019n my knee.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>A pleasant feeling warmed her as\nhis old-timer\u2019s voice coupled with his lopsided grin tickled the edges of her\nmemory. She tapped her forefinger on his arm. \u201cWhy, Ned, you\u2019re the one who\ntold me all those Bible stories.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>He seemed to grow taller before\nher. \u201cYep, that was me. Telling them stories was the only way to keep ya outta\ntrouble.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>&nbsp;Still smiling, she lowered her tone. \u201cShhh\u2026it\nwasn\u2019t the stories, Ned, it was the peppermint you sweetened every story with\nthat did the trick.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cNow don\u2019t go telling yer Pa \u2019bout\nthat. But even with all them sweets gummin\u2019 up yer teeth, you\u2019ve growed into a\nfine lookin\u2019 lady.\u201d He nodded as if that said it all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Marion ran her tongue along her\nwhite teeth. She\u2019d missed Ned when he\u2019d left their ranch, but perhaps it had\nworked out for the best.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cNed, I swear you wear my\npatience.\u201d Aunt Mattie turned Marion away from the blustering old cowhand.\n\u201cDon\u2019t give him another thought, dear. Your poppa\u2019s always been proud of your\npearly teeth. And you <em>have<\/em> grown into\na beautiful woman.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Marion basked in the loving\nattention.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>That is, until she saw the foreman\nwaiting for them with only one side of his mouth turned up in a smile. Did that\nmean he approved? Or he didn\u2019t? The thought of either answer warmed her cheeks.\nOh, bother, she had no wish for Mr. Tabor to see her red-faced like a\nschoolgirl.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>At the gate, she unwound her arm\nfrom Aunt Mattie\u2019s, saying, \u201cI want to take in these wonderful roses. Go on,\nI\u2019ll be along soon.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Mr. Tabor bestowed a full-fledged\nsmile on Aunt Mattie and offered his arm. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Alone, Marion leaned in to inhale\nthe fragrance of the yellow beauties. If Serelli remembered, there\u2019d be a vase\nof them waiting in her room. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The front door banged as Mr. Whelp\nhurried through. He leaped down the steps, passed Aunt Mattie and the foreman,\nand stopped near the gate beside Marion. \u201cDid I hear Miz Mattie say you\u2019ll be\nhere for a month?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Marion swayed one way, then the\nother. \u201cYes, that\u2019s correct.\u201d She dipped her lashes, peering up at him. \u201cAnd\nwill I see you often, Mr. Whelp?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cAs much as Tabor will allow.\u201d He\nlooked at the foreman, then back at her. His chin notched up an inch. \u201cAs much\nas <em>you<\/em> want.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>She brushed a wisp of hair off her\near. \u201cI doubt I\u2019ll have much say in the foreman\u2019s decisions.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYou\u2019ll have him wrapped around your\nlittle finger if you keep looking like that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Warm pleasure flowed through her at\nhis obvious appreciation. She began to sway again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cMarion?\u201d Aunt Mattie called from\nthe foot of the verandah steps, Mr. Tabor by her side.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Mr. Whelp lost his grin. \u201cMuch as\nI\u2019d like to spend the day staring at your beauty, I can\u2019t have Miz Mattie\nthinking the worst of me. You\u2019ll find your things in that pretty room\nupstairs.\u201d He flashed another grin before heading back to the group of cowboys\nhanging around the corral. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Marion tried to pay attention to\nAunt Mattie and the foreman\u2019s discussion on a sick calf, but her thoughts\ncentered on the man who had been upstairs in her room. Mr. Whelp\u2019s easy\nfamiliarity wouldn\u2019t have met the approval of Mrs. Collins, the Austen Abbey\u2019s\nheadmistress, yet it filled Marion with the same excitement as she\u2019d\nexperienced during their dance at the Valentine\u2019s Ball when he\u2019d crushed her\nagainst him, then let her go so fast she thought she may have imagined the\nmomentary contact. Again, her cheeks flushed at the thought.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>&nbsp;She watched him stride away with Poppa\u2019s\ndirective on her mind. A month with Aunt Mattie was time enough to see what\nkind of man Mr. Whelp was both on the range as well as after a full day of\nriding. Someday her husband would inherit everything Poppa spent his life\nworking for, and that man needed to do the same for his own children. Was Mr.\nWhelp as strong inside as he seemed to be on the outside?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The opening door drew Marion\u2019s\nattention. A slim woman with greying hair emerged from the house carrying a tray\nwith a pitcher and three empty glasses. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Aunt Mattie patted Marion\u2019s arm.\n\u201cThere\u2019s Serelli and our tea. Will you stay for refreshments, Brandon?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cThank you, but not this time, Aunt\nMattie.\u201d He nodded at Marion. \u201cA pleasure to meet you, Miss McDermott.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Her gaze followed the foreman as he\nlimped across the hard-packed yard to the line of outbuildings. Without\npausing, he wiped his brow with the back of his hand before he made it halfway\nacross. Her heart tightened as if she, too, could feel his pain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n<p>Brandon sat on his cot clenching\nhis jaw. He adjusted his clothing to expose the mass of scar tissue covering\nhis right hip. The salve wouldn\u2019t stop the pain\u2014only make it more bearable. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>He reached for the tin container,\nkeeping his hand clear of the small brown bottle standing innocently behind it.\nAs he massaged the gooey stuff into his scars, his gaze swung back to the\nbottle. Although fifteen months had passed, Doc\u2019s warning about the addictive\npowers of modern medicine had taken root, sending shoots of fear through\nBrandon\u2019s brain. He\u2019d seen what cocaine, laudanum, and other opiates had done\nto others in the hospital\u2014others who either didn\u2019t know God or didn\u2019t trust Him\nenough. Brandon did. And if this was how God planned for him to live the rest of\nhis life, he\u2019d live with it, pain and all. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Except it rankled that he\u2019d seen\nMiss McDermott flailing her arms like a windmill and instead of allowing him to\ncatch her, she\u2019d closed her eyes and given up. Since Whelp had appeared beside\nhim ready to catch her too, Brandon had backed off and walked around the outfit\nto help Aunt Mattie down instead. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>He couldn\u2019t decide if he felt worse\nabout backing away, or because of the way she\u2019d looked at him. One thing was\nfor sure\u2014he would never have forgiven himself if Whelp had missed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>With the salve already working, he\nstopped his ministrations and dropped his head back against the scratchy,\nwoolen blanket. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Miss McDermott sure was a lively\none. Full of fire with enough breeding to keep it bridled. The moment he\u2019d seen\nher up on the wagon sitting pretty-as-you-please, his tattered Texas Ranger\u2019s\nheart had leaped off a cliff. He patted his chest, guessing it was for the best\nthat she hadn\u2019t reciprocated any such feelings. Her brown eyes had questioned\nhis familiarity with her aunt. And they\u2019d softened dreamily when they looked at\nWhelp. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Aunt Mattie\u2019d said her niece was\nall of nineteen. <em>Nineteen<\/em>. An old\ngeezer like him had no business thinking of a nineteen-year-old\u2019s eyes\u2014or any\nother part of her. Just as well she\u2019d fallen for Whelp\u2019s charm like a flower in\na drought. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>After capping the salve, he slid it\non the dresser. The little brown bottle appeared bigger and closer. He should\nempty it in the pig sty and be done with the temptation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Three sharp raps interrupted his thoughts.\n\u201cBoss? That sick calf ain\u2019t lookin\u2019 so good.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cHold on to your hat, Ned.\u201d Brandon\nadjusted his clothes. \u201cCome on in.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Ned stepped in, his face furrowed\nwith worry. \u201cShe\u2019s scourin\u2019 something bad. Thought I\u2019d check the rest of the\nherd.\u201d He extended his right hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Brandon accepted the offer and\nallowed himself to be hauled off the bed. \u201cNo, I\u2019ll do it. You stay here in\ncase the ladies need something.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>A light flared in Ned\u2019s eyes. He\nheaded for the door without a hint of argument. \u201cYou\u2019re the boss. I think I\u2019ll\nlet Miz Mattie know where she can find me.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Brandon caught the extra spring in\nthe older man\u2019s step. \u201cYou do that, Ned.\u201d If the old cowhand wasn\u2019t careful,\nthe whole Rocking R would discover his little secret, and he\u2019d never live it\ndown. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>With the salve working to deaden\nhis pain, Brandon eased toward the door. Time to get back to work. And those\nhotheads better be at it, too, because he\u2019d be full of steam if he caught them\nlounging around and drooling at their guest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>He snorted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em>Their<\/em>\nguest. As if he owned the place. A ranch like this deserved a big family to\nfill the house and lots of little feet running through the yard. The merest\ntwinge tightened his chest at the thought of his Savana. He\u2019d had his turn at\nwedded bliss and enjoyed every second while she\u2019d been alive, even though their\nunion hadn\u2019t been blessed with offspring. And as damaged as he was, no woman in\nher right mind would consider him for a mate now, so he\u2019d better stop pining\nabout it. <\/p>\n\n\n<div data-block-name=\"woocommerce\/handpicked-products\" data-edit-mode=\"false\" data-products=\"[543,558]\" class=\"wc-block-grid wp-block-handpicked-products wp-block-woocommerce-handpicked-products wc-block-handpicked-products has-3-columns has-multiple-rows wp-block-woocommerce-handpicked-products\"><ul class=\"wc-block-grid__products\"><li class=\"wc-block-grid__product\">\n\t\t\t\t<a href=\"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/product\/romantic-refinements\/\" class=\"wc-block-grid__product-link\">\n\t\t\t\t\t\n\t\t\t\t\t<div class=\"wc-block-grid__product-image\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"300\" height=\"300\" src=\"https:\/\/readmedia.s3.amazonaws.com\/read\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/23135643\/Romantic-refinements-300x300.png\" class=\"attachment-woocommerce_thumbnail size-woocommerce_thumbnail\" 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options<\/a><\/div>\n\t\t\t<\/li><\/ul><\/div>\n\n\n<p><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Romantic Refinements by Anita Mae Draper, Based on&nbsp;Sense and Sensibility Na\u00efve Marion McDermott spurns the love of quiet Brandon Tabor in favor of a handsome cowboy closer to her own age. An idealistic romantic, she wants to be swept off her feet, not aid a has-been Texas Ranger who walks with a limp. Yet something [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":165,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"off","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[129,202,206],"tags":[137],"class_list":["post-1242","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-historical-fiction","category-quick-reads","category-romance-and-love-stories","tag-austin-in-austin"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1242","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1242"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1242\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4763,"href":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1242\/revisions\/4763"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/165"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1242"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1242"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1242"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}