*mild profanity, adult references

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine; I am making no money off of this work, etc.

Authors Notes: For timeline purposes, Fear takes place right after Trixie, Honey, and Di’s graduation. The girls are all 17, Mart and Dan are fresh out of their first year of college and are 18, and Jim and Brian have completed their second year of college and are 19.

Many, many thanks to my beta, Randi, who successfully kept this from being the "hold my nickies" fic, *g* and my editor Bett, who agreed to edit even though she is not so much of a Trix fan. Muah to both of you. You rock.

Fear

Trixie Belden stomped through the kitchen at Crabapple Farm, her blond curls bouncing with every step she took. Each time she passed the old-fashioned turn-dial phone mounted on the wall, Trixie gave it a stormy glare, as if it were the phone’s fault her best friend Honey Wheeler had not yet called. More than once, Trixie had picked the receiver up and listened for the dial tone, as though to reassure herself that the phone was still working. Then she quickly replaced the earpiece in its cradle, for fear Honey might try to call in the few seconds it was off the hook.

Trixie’s older brother, and "almost twin", Mart, appeared in the doorway and watched this cycle with an amused, yet fascinated interest for a moment. "I don’t suppose," he began, "that you are familiar with the age-old proverb that goes something along the lines of: ‘A metal structure, most often associated with the culinary arts, that is regarded for prolonged periods of time never reaches the stage of creating thin films of liquids enclosing air or gas, and giving off vapors usually in the form of-’"

Trixie rounded on him. "Gleeps, Mart!" she interrupted, "‘A watched pot never boils!’ I’ve heard of it! I’m not entirely stupid, you know. I see," Trixie added wryly, "that a year away at college hasn’t managed to cure you of your dictionary-itis."

"No, no, by all means," replied Mart cheerfully, "If anything, my sojourn at the higher institutions of learning has only strengthened this particular virus."

"Goody for me," Trixie snorted. "Seriously, though, it is good to have you back home. And Brian, and Jim and Dan. Things have been crazy lately, what with you guys coming home, and me, Honey, and Di’s graduation tomorrow night…" She hastily pushed this thought out of her mind. It’s still a day away… "You wouldn’t believe how boring this past year has been, though, with all you guys away," Trixie said regretfully.

"What, no mysteries?" Mart adopted a stunned air as he walked over to the refrigerator.

"A few," Trixie admitted. "I hope to uncover more this summer…" With that sentence, Trixie was reminded of the anticipated phone call, and resumed her pacing around the kitchen.

"So, what’s this all-important phone call about, anyway?" Mart asked, opening the refrigerator and regarding its contents fondly.

"I can’t say yet," Trixie confessed, brushing ringlets off her forehead. "Honey swore me to secrecy until everything was set."

"Oh?" Mart arched a sandy eyebrow. "It’s probably some silly girl thing- who should Ruthie Kettner take to the party, Nick Morgan or Tad Webster? Oh, the teen angst!"

"I assure you, Mart, it’s much more exciting than that," Trixie scoffed. "I’m still not telling you, but I’ll give you a clue: it involves all the Bob-Whites."

Mart shrugged and moved towards the door. "If I know you, and I think I do, you’ll be telling me within an hour."

"I hope so," Trixie murmured to herself. If she didn’t get to tell someone soon, Trixie was absolutely sure she would just burst with the exciting information: Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler, Honey’s parents, were leaving for upstate New York the day after tomorrow, to visit Mrs. Wheeler’s relatives, who lived just outside of Albany. At the last minute, Mr. Wheeler had extended the invitation to all the Bob-Whites, and was now, at this very moment, finalizing things with Mrs. Wheeler’s relatives. Trixie drummed her fingers on the counter, staring intently at the phone as she waited for Honey’s call to confirm everything was set. She couldn’t wait to race up to the Bob-White Clubhouse and tell the boys, who had all just arrived the night before, the news.

Gleeps, Trixie thought to herself, it’ll be the first Bob-White trip in ages. Just like the old days…She hugged herself with glee. Nothing would make her happier right now than the entire club getting together as they hadn’t been for nearly two years now. I hope we can all go…I hope Dan doesn’t get stuck behind, chopping wood…I hope Di doesn’t have to go out west…I hope-

Suddenly, the phone rang, jarring Trixie out of her thoughts. She scrambled to answer it, shouting, "Hello!" into the receiver.

"It’s all set!" Honey sang. "We’re leaving in two days. Oh, Trixie, isn’t it perfectly perfect? Graduation tomorrow night, then our trip-"

"It’s wonderful!" Trixie cried. "It’s, well, as you said, ‘perfectly perfect’, and your father is a doll for taking us…"

Honey sighed happily. "I have to call Di and let her know. Meet us down at the clubhouse and we’ll tell the boys."

Trixie agreed, and hung up the phone. She immediately tore out of the kitchen and up the path to the Manor House, nearly colliding with Honey along the trail just outside the clubhouse.

"Bad news," Honey panted; She, too, had been running. "Di can’t come with us to Albany. Her parents are taking the entire family on a cruise to the Bahamas. It’s Di’s surprise graduation present. They just told her today. "

"Oh, what a shame," Trixie said disappointedly. "Not, of course, that she’s going on a cruise, but..."

Honey nodded as the pair entered the clubhouse. "I know. Di was upset that she was going to miss the trip, since she’s already missed out on so many-"

"What trip’s that, eh?"

Trixie looked up in surprise; all four boys had already gathered in the clubhouse. Brian and Dan were in the middle of a game of chess; Jim was sitting in the corner, attempting to untangle a fishing line that Trixie herself had bungled only weeks ago; Mart, sitting on the table and leafing through an old St. Nicholas magazine, was now eyeing Trixie and Honey suspiciously.

"What trip is that, I said?" he repeated. "You two look like the cats that swallowed the canaries. What gives?"

Brian glanced up from the chessboard. "They do look awfully smug, don’t they? Spill it, girls. You couldn’t hide a secret if all of our lives depended on it."

"Which would be why we don’t tell them anything," Mart said under his breath.

Trixie merely turned her nose up at her older brothers. "If you boys are so smart, you tell us, then, what it is we’re talking about. I mean, anyone with brains would have figured out a long time ago what’s going on."

Honey nodded in agreement. "It’s such exciting news, and yet it’s a ridiculously simple puzzle to solve. To think, it only took one phone call to set up, I can’t imagine-"

"Phone call!" Mart exclaimed. "Gleeps, the mysterious phone call from Honey! What are you crazy girls up to?"

"Mart told us all about this phone call," Dan informed them. "Sworn secrets? Mysterious calls? Jeepers, Trix, are you involved in another mystery?"

"No, no," Trixie replied impatiently. "Not yet, anyway. Give me time. This has to do with Honey’s parents."

"Mother and Dad? Why? I thought they were headed upstate, to visit relatives," Jim spoke up. Trixie turned to him, realizing he had been awfully quiet.

"Exactly," Honey replied. "You see, Daddy has invited all of us to come along-"

"But I can’t go," Brian interrupted at this. "I’m taking those summer courses at the community college, remember?"

"Oh…Right…" Trixie replied vaguely. In truth, she had completely forgotten about Brian’s summer classes.

"Well, the rest of us are still invited," Honey said brightly. "We leave day after tomorrow, so-"

Dan shook his head sorrowfully. "I can’t go either, I’m afraid. Mr. Maypenny is going to need all the help he can get on the preserve…"

"Dan!" wailed Trixie. "Stuck behind chopping wood again?!"

Dan shrugged good-naturedly. "It’s a tough job, but someone’s got to do it."

"Here, here!" Mart chimed in. "I, for one, while in deep admiration of Mr. Mangan’s work ethics-" he bowed towards Dan, who, grinning, bowed back, "would love nothing more than an excuse to miss out on a week’s worth of chores. Count me in, most definitely."

"So long as Moms and Dad agree," Brian reminded him.

"Oh, that," Mart waved a lazy hand in the air. "No more than a simple matter of asking. Well, a matter of Trixie asking, as this is entirely her idea…"

Trixie glared stormily at him.

"Ok, then," Honey plowed on. "Me, Trix, Mart, and- I assume you’re coming too, Jim?" she looked hard at him, as though daring him to say no.

Jim jumped, as though surprised at being addressed. "I… what? I’m coming… Yes, yes, of course. I wouldn’t dream of missing it, little sister," he managed a feeble smile at Honey. Trixie watched him, her eyes narrowed. What’s bothering him? She wondered. He looks so sad… Jim continued gazing at the floor, until his eyes darted up to Trixie; discomfited to see she was already looking at him, Jim’s gaze immediately dropped back to the ground. Trixie blinked. What just happened?

"Well, then," Honey was saying cheerfully, "It will be just the four of us-"

"Not exactly a Bob-White trip, like we hoped," Trixie said glumly. I guess things will never be like how they used to be, she thought sorrowfully.

"Oh, we’ll still have tons of fun," Honey replied confidently. "I mean, after all, it was only the four of us who went to London, look how great that was…Well, save Miss Trask acting like a prat, and Trixie being completely insufferable, and all of us nearly getting mugged every time we stepped onto the streets…"

"Yeah, but we had some fun, eh?" Mart snickered.

Trixie sighed and stood up. "This Bob-White meeting is hereby adjourned-"

"I didn’t even know it had begun," Dan interrupted.

Trixie ignored him. "-Hereby adjourned, due to our dear, dear, always-present and ever-annoying brothers, blood related or otherwise."

"I second that proposal," Honey said. She, too, stood up and began poking Trixie out the door. "Trixie and I have to go watch The Lord of the Rings one last time before we leave. I think Trixie," Honey added in a loudly whispered aside, "has a thing for the questionable Frodo and Sam scenes."

"Trixie? An angst-ridden, pinky-raising, eyeliner-loving, dark-side slasher?" Mart gasped.

"I am not-" Trixie began hotly.

"Trixie? A slasher?" Mart now began to howl with laughter.

As Trixie was pulled out the door by Honey, the last image she saw inside the clubhouse was Mart, lying on the floor at Brian’s feet, screeching, and nearly sick with mirth.

 

Later that evening, Trixie wandered up the path into the Wheelers' stables to find Regan among the stalls, mucking out Jupiter’s old hay. She gave a start of surprise, then realized she shouldn’t be so shocked- Regan was always there.

Regan raised his flaming red head as Trixie entered. Grinning, he turned, picked up the spare shovel leaning against the wall next to him, and offered it to her.

Trixie smiled faintly and accepted the shovel, coming to a stop next to Regan, jabbing unenthusiastically at the old hay.

Regan watched her at her half-hearted attempts for a moment, then resumed his task. Trixie felt, rather than saw, him occasionally shoot furtive glances in her direction. Too late, she realized everything she was feeling right now was printed across her face, and Regan could read her like a book. She also found she suddenly didn’t care.

"Everything going ok, Trix?" Regan asked at last, trying to keep his voice casual as he emptied a shovel-full of hay into the wheelbarrow.

Trixie paused in her raking to look up at Regan. "Sure," she said in what she hoped was an unconcerned tone. "Everything’s great. Why shouldn’t it be?"

Regan shrugged and hefted another load of hay into the wheelbarrow. After a moment, he said offhandedly, "You’re graduating tomorrow, eh?" He shot another look at Trixie as he said this.

Trixie felt heat rise up in her cheeks, but still she replied, "That’s right." Wiping her hands on her jeans, she rested the shovel back up against the wall. "Listen, Regan, is it ok if I take Susie out for a quick ride? We’re leaving day after tomorrow, and I wanted to say goodbye…and I can’t seem to sit still right now, anyway…" Trixie trailed off.

Regan continued working silently for a moment, then abruptly threw his shovel aside and turned to face her. "That," he informed Trixie, "is nothing new." Regan smiled kindly down at her. "I suspect Susie is raring to go, as she hasn’t been out in days." His eyes twinkled despite his sudden stern face.

Trixie gulped and managed a feeble smile in return. She slowly walked towards Susie’s stall, thinking vaguely of riding out to see Mr. Maypenny and Dan, when a sudden thought struck her. Whirling around, she eyed Regan’s now hunched-over form, busied with spreading fresh hay over the floor of Jupiter’s stall. As Trixie watched, Regan pushed the wheelbarrow aside and headed towards the entrance to the paddock, on the opposite end of the barn. He returned shortly, leading an excitable-looking Jupiter, murmuring words in a soft, soothing voice. Trixie continued watching for a few moments, debating, then swiftly made up her mind. She walked purposefully back to where Regan was leading Jupiter into his stall.

"Regan," Trixie began in a calm, reasonable voice, "Do you remember the first time we met? When the Wheelers first moved here from the city?"

Regan glanced up at her, then grunted, "Sure. Four years ago. Right here, in this very stable. You came scampering in here, dying to get on the back of a horse, the eagerest little girl I’ve ever seen- Not," he added quickly, "that anyone could call you a little girl now."

Trixie felt momentarily stunned at this assessment, before nodding and continuing, "Right. And do you remember what you said to me when Miss Trask asked you to teach me how to ride?"

Regan latched the lock on Jupiter’s stall, his face deeply thoughtful. "I said… I said you would be sure to learn quickly, because people who really loved horses were natural riders."

"Exactly," Trixie beamed at him.

There was a moment of silence, then Regan broke the quiet by asking in a bemused voice, "What is this all about, Trix? Are you trying to show me something, or merely testing my memory skills?"

"You mean you forgot the promise you made me?" Trixie asked, her eyes growing round.

"Promise?" Regan ran a hand through his red hair, messing it up in the process so it stuck out in all directions, only adding to his bewildered appearance. "I don’t recall any promise I made-"

Trixie moved so that she was standing directly in front of Jupiter’s stall, and pointed in at the immense black horse, now apparently sleeping. "That," she said succinctly. Jupiter opened one eye lazily, as though he was aware he was being talked about.

Regan stared from the horse to Trixie, understanding dawning on his face. "Trixie," he said weakly, "you can’t be serious- Jupiter is very picky about who rides him, only Matthew and Jim do anymore-"

"I’m as good a rider as Jim is!" Trixie rounded on Regan, furious. "I’ve been riding for four years, Regan, I can handle any horse fine-"

"And, anyway," continued Regan, as though he had never been interrupted, "Jupiter has such a strong mouth, you’d never be able to keep control of him-"

"I could, too!" cried Trixie. "I’m not some frail, weak little girl, you said so yourself, and I could control Jupe just as well as Jim could-"

"And remember the last time you got on Jupe’s back?" Regan plowed on, ignoring her. "Nearly got yourself killed, you did, and it was only by some lucky chance neither you or Jupe were injured-"

"Regan, you promised!"

Silence reigned, broken only by Jupiter’s nervous snorts. Regan stared at Trixie, who glared back, her fists balled, poised as if to rip Regan limb from limb.

Finally, Regan sighed and looked broodingly in at Jupiter. "Feel up to a workout, boy?"

"Yes!" Trixie exclaimed gleefully, pumping a fist in the air. "Yes! Oh, Regan, you have no idea what this means to me…"

Regan didn’t answer as he led Jupiter out of his stall and moved off towards the tack room to collect a saddle and bridle.

Trixie followed him, shaking with excitement at the thought of riding Jupiter. Why, wondered Trixie, is this so important to me all of the sudden? She hadn’t even remembered Regan’s promise to let her ride Jupiter until a few minutes ago. If she were perfectly honest with herself, the thought of getting on Jupiter’s back again after the last time she had ridden him terrified her; a fact that she had shamefully kept hidden the past four years. After all, everyone always said how fearless she was… Imagine what they would think if they knew she was afraid of riding Jupiter. Trixie Belden was brave; Trixie Belden did not fear anything… Trixie Belden also got sick with terror every time she recalled that wild ride on Jupiter so long ago. Yet, here she was, just about to mount the enormous gelding’s back, and she could not feel a trace of fear at all. Interesting, Trixie mused, fingering the saddle blanket absently as she watched Regan adjust the stirrups, interesting, how everything; inhibitions, hesitations, uncertainties; everything vanishes when I’m staring face to face with my fears.

"Ready to go, Trix?" Regan’s voice broke into Trixie’s thoughts.

"Uh- yes," gulped Trixie. She took the reins from Regan and turned to mount.

"I just want to know how it feels to be on the back of such a beautiful creature as Jupiter."

Trixie took a deep breath and hoisted herself into the saddle. Jupiter stood perfectly still, and as Trixie seated herself and adjusted her footing in the stirrups, he remained standing still. Triumphant, Trixie beamed down at the worried face of Regan.

"See?" said Trixie, patting Jupiter’s neck. "No problems, right, Jupe?"

"All right," Regan said reluctantly, still standing close by, as though afraid Jupiter may bolt at any moment. "Walk him out to the corral…easy does it. Not so hard on his mouth, now, if he starts to run, you’d never be able to stop him…"

Trixie gathered up the reins, and Jupiter obediently set off into a walk. They left the shade of the barn, with Regan still following closely on their heels. Entering the corral, Trixie blinked in the bright sunlight, and Jupiter ambled on smoothly beneath her.

"May I gallop her now, please, Regan, may I?"

"Go ahead off in a trot, if you’re ready," Regan appeared close behind Trixie’s leg. "Keep your heels down, now-"

"…Indeed you don’t. You start with a walk…"

"Regan," Trixie interrupted in a long-suffering voice, "I know how to ride a horse."

"Do you, now?" Regan’s face broke into a grin as he squinted up at Trixie. "I reckon you’ll be all right. But I’d feel safer if they finished fencing in this field…"

Trixie smiled to herself at these words, signaled to Jupe, and Jupiter smoothly stepped right into a canter. As Trixie felt the rhythm of the horse’s gait beneath her, the wind blowing wildly in her hair, hearing nothing but the pounding of Jupiter’s hooves against the ground, something suddenly broke inside of her and found its way to her heart.

"You speak a horse’s language, miss. Jupe understood every word you just said. He likes you, and he doesn’t like everybody…"

Elation filled Trixie as the beautiful, wonderful, welcome feeling of freedom coursed through her veins and wound its way around her very soul. Lighter than air, happier than she had been in years, Trixie cantered Jupiter around the corral again, finally reining in to a stop right where Regan was waiting. Grinning, her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkling, Trixie looked down at Regan, expecting him to be furious for cantering Jupiter when he explicitly said," Trot." Surprised, Trixie stared at the spot on the ground Regan had been standing only minutes before. Craning around in the saddle, she scanned the rest of the paddock- No Regan. Dismounting, Trixie started to lead Jupiter into the stables, feeling slightly miffed Regan had not stayed to watch. She walked into the barn, stopping short as Regan’s voice met her ears.

"If I didn’t think Trixie could handle Jupe, I wouldn’t have let her ride him…"

Trixie pressed even closer to the open doors, so that she could clearly hear the conversation. Her heart flipped over inside her chest when she heard whom Regan was talking to.

"…could have been unsafe, though. Trix could have gotten seriously injured," Jim said angrily.

Regan shook his head impatiently and practically growled, "Trixie is a good rider, Jim. She and Jupiter got on very well, you can usually tell if there would be any potential problems…"

"Usually," Jim snapped. "But Jupiter is such a sensitive horse, you can never tell what might happen with him. I wouldn’t advise letting anyone else ride him, besides Dad and I. After all, Trixie never realizes what kind of danger there could be, she’s so horribly naïve…"

Trixie’s stomach plummeted to her toes. Naive? she seethed. Anger took hold of her, and at the same time, she felt like her heart had cracked in two. Without even realizing what she was doing, Trixie ran into the barn, right in between the two towering redheads, glaring at the both of them.

"Trixie isn’t a little girl anymore, Jim, she’s strong enough to have handled Jupiter," Regan was saying, incensed. Trixie paid no attention to him.

"Excuse me," She interrupted in an icy voice, "once the two of you are finished discussing this situation, I would like to point out that is me you are discussing, and therefore would fancy having a bit of input."

The two men stared at her. "What?" Regan asked at last.

"Go to hell," Trixie told them both coldly, before turning on her heel and storming from the stable.

*    *    *

Trixie gazed at the image in the full-length French mirror with complete disbelief. The figure that stared back at her had changed so much from the tomboy thirteen-year-old Trixie had almost been expecting to see in the reflection. Turning from side to side, she examined herself from all angles, almost in awe, as though seeing her face and body for the first time tonight.

Graduation had been looming ahead ominously for Trixie for nearly a month now. Exactly what she had been fearing, she hadn’t been quite sure. Now, as Trixie stared at her mirror image, she realized, for the first time, why exactly graduation seemed so terrifying. It was like the end of an era; a right of passage into adulthood; she was no longer a child. Trixie Belen had grown up. That thought scared her more than any hard-edged criminal she had faced, or tight spot she had gotten herself into in the past four years.

Funny how I still feel like that thirteen year old, Trixie thought grimly as she pulled on her deep blue gown and gingerly tugged on her cap. She thought glumly back to the scene in the stable the day before. If she did feel like a child still, well, that was all Jim Frayne’s fault. Naive, she fumed, still furious. But, so what if Jim thought of her as nothing more than a silly kid? What did she care?

A lot, Trixie admitted to herself. She cared very much so. Trixie had always believed Jim thought very highly of her… Maybe even as highly as she thought of him… She blushed at the thought. But to find out so abruptly that she was nothing more than another little sister…

Trixie felt a slight pang of regret when she thought about her reaction. I suppose that only strengthened his belief, she sighed, gazing wistfully back at her reflection.

At that moment, a knock came upon her door, and Mrs. Belden stepped into the room. "Trixie, are you ready? Your brothers want to leave soon, I believe," She walked up behind Trixie and gazed into the mirror at her daughter’s reflection. "You look absolutely lovely, Trixie," Mrs. Belden fussed with Trixie’s collar, her voice somewhat choked.

"Oh, Moms, I’ll just die if I don’t have a horse!"

"Thanks, Moms," Trixie wondered why suddenly, standing in front of her own mother, she could not think of a single thing to say.

"Trixie, if you died as many times as you thought you were going to, you’d have to be a cat with nine lives to be with us for one day."

They gazed at each other wordlessly for a moment, and then Trixie understood- no words were needed.

"Everyone ready to go?" Mr. Belden’s voice drifted in from the hallway. He poked his head in through Trixie’s door and grinned down at his daughter. "Ready, Trix?"

"I think so," Trixie looked helplessly around her room, feeling as though she were leaving it for the last time, then slowly followed her mother out the door.

*    *    *

"As we embark on our own separate journeys, after so many precious, yet all to short years together, I wish only for this graduating class of Sleepyside Jr. Sr. High School to exceed and excel in everything we attempt and endeavor in, and I’m quite sure there is nothing but many wonderful accomplishments in our futures…"

Trixie shifted uncomfortably in her seat. It was beginning to seem as though she had completely overrated graduation. Finally sitting there, listening to the pompous speakers giving their lengthy speeches, the entire ceremony seemed ridiculously ostentatious and she concluded that graduation was little more than long, awkward, and boring. Trixie leaned over and whispered to Honey, "It figures we get the only valedictorian who wasn’t there for that first day in kindergarten, when we learned about the importance of breathing."

Honey clapped a hand over her mouth to conceal her sudden snort of laughter.

Trixie grinned at her, and sat upright to look over the crowd. Scanning the first couple rows, she finally located her parents and her brothers, right next to the Wheelers and Lynches. Smiling slightly to herself, she saw Jim and Dan, beside Mart and Brian. All looked excruciatingly bored, except… her eyes focused on Jim with a pang. The profound sadness on his face made her heart constrict. Gazing up at the class standing in front of him, Jim looked more as though he was at the memorial services of a beloved friend, rather than the commencement of his sister and close friends.

Gleeps, Trixie thought. I know I was kind of harsh on him yesterday, but… Still, even when staring down at the sadness on his face, she couldn’t shake that hurt feeling at Jim’s words and feel any remorse for what she said.

Leaning back over to Honey, Trixie asked quietly, "Is everything ok with Jim? He looks kind of…"

Hesitating, Honey looked out over the audience to where Jim was sitting, before she finally said softly, "I don’t know, exactly…I think college has been really quite harder for him this year…"

"Oh…" Trixie slowly pulled back, pondering this.

"So, in conclusion," the valedictorian, a tall black girl with thick glasses who reminded Trixie strongly of Loyola Kevins, droned on, "I’d like to wish my graduating class of fellow seniors good luck, and re-affirm my personal belief that, with the right mind-set, anything is possible."

Wild applause broke out, in particular from the graduates, although Trixie suspected it was more from relief that the drawn out speech was finally over, rather than appreciation for its finer points as a spoken masterpiece.

Slowly, the ceremony drug on. Trixie kept impatiently looking at Honey’s wristwatch, convinced it was broken, until at last the processional began.

Accepting the diploma a beaming Mr. Stratton handed her, Trixie turned to the audience, grinned and waved at her family, then walked off the stage following the rest of her classmates. The students lined up, now in front of the stage, and Mr. Stratton declared, "I give you the graduating class of Sleepyside Jr. Sr. High!"

A cheer rose up from the crowd, as well as the numerous caps from the graduates. Beaming, Trixie found Honey and Diana in the massive crowd, and the three girls threw their arms around one another, squealing.

"OY! B.W.G.’s over here!"

Turning around, Trixie spied the blond head of Mart poking out of the mob of people. Beyond them, she could see Brian, Jim and Dan, all pushing their way towards them through the crowd. The girls hurried over to them, and when they at last met, it was bedlam.

"AHHHH, we’re finally done-"

"Congratulations-"

"You almost tripped on the end of the stage, there, eh, Trix-"

"-PARTY!"

Grinning wildly, Trixie was passed between her brothers, and just as Dan had ecstatically thrown his arms around her, she noticed Jim, standing a little bit away from the crowd, his eyes on her, his face still bearing that exceedingly sad look, now mixed with heart-breaking uncertainty.

Trixie’s anger melted away. Suddenly, nothing mattered anymore, just as long as Jim would simply smile again.

Trixie stepped back from Dan, and walked determinedly over to Jim. Watching her, Jim said nervously, "Congratulations, Trix. I- I mean, we- we’re all so proud-"

He stopped short as Trixie put her arms around him and drew him into a tight hug. If Jim was surprised by this sudden gesture, he quickly recovered and tightened his arms around her, hugging her back firmly. "I’m sorry," Trixie managed to choke in his ear, her voice unexpectedly constricted by a large lump in her throat.

Then it hit her, just what exactly was happening- panic seized Trixie as Jim held her. Oh, my god, what am I doing? She thought, horrified. Never before had she acted so impulsively- well, at least when dealing with her relationship with Jim. Trixie felt as though she were being torn in two, as the terror took hold and nearly made her step back; but then, there was also that feeling that Trixie never wanted to move, from this spot, in Jim’s arms…like this was where she belonged…

Before she could decide what to do, Brian interrupted with, "So, lets go guys," speaking loudly to be heard over the vast amounts of noise around them. Jim immediately released Trixie, almost guiltily. Trixie stumbled back, somewhat dazed. "Mom and Dad will want to see you all," Brian continued, "and we have a party to get to-"

"PARTY!" Mart cried gleefully.

The large group met up with their even larger group outside the school, and amid the pictures, hugs, and excited congratulations, Trixie somehow managed to keep an eye on Jim. As he posed for snapshots with his parents and Honey, he was suddenly looking happier than he had in days.

*    *    *

Clink, Clink.

"Ahem!" Mr. Wheeler got to his feet and looked around him. The crowd sitting at the table in his immense dining room slowly fell silent, all turning to look at Matthew expectantly.

"I would like to propose a toast, " Mr. Wheeler said, his voice low and rumbling, "to the three lovely ladies we are gathered to celebrate with tonight." His eyes flickered around the room and came to rest fondly upon his daughter and her friends. "It seems as though it were just yesterday Maddie, Honey and I moved here from the city. Our lives have changed so wonderfully since then… It has been a privilege living among such fine people as yourselves, and it is with the deepest honor that you are all gathered in my home tonight to share this evening with us."

"Here, here!" Mart and Dan called loudly.

Mr. Wheeler grinned, looking suddenly like a young, mischievous schoolboy. He raised his glass in Trixie, Honey, and Di’s direction. "To Madeline ‘Honey’ Wheeler, Beatrix Belden, and Diana Lynch. Congratulations, girls. No one deserves it more than you."

Trixie, flushed at Mr. Wheeler’s use of her full name, smiled as everyone raised their glasses and drank. She could hear Honey sniffling beside her, and wondered vaguely if Di was doing the same.

"Trix," Brian leaned across the table to talk softly to Trixie, once everyone else had resumed their conversations.

"Hmm?" Trixie said, her mind still on Mr. Wheeler’s lovely toast.

"I think Jim is trying to get your attention," Brian whispered, inclining his head slightly down the table in Jim’s direction.

"What?" Trixie said, snapping to attention, completely taken aback.

"He’s been staring at you all through dinner," Brian hissed. " Don’t just sit there…go talk to him… squaw." He added with a grin.

Trixie, entirely flustered at the idea of being stared at through an entire meal, and indignant at Brian’s use of his and Mart’s old degrading nickname for her, turned to look at Jim, her cheeks heating up.

Sure enough, Jim was looking at her, but once her gaze met his, his eyes immediately dropped to his plate, appearing thoroughly engrossed in his filet mignon.

Fine, Trixie thought, faintly annoyed. If he wants to be all ‘Avoiding Boy’, well then, I have no problem with that. She continued to eat her potatoes automatically, concentrating all her might on not looking back at Jim, until she was suddenly aware of someone poking her hard in the ribs. Irritated at this second interruption of her dining, Trixie looked up, glaring.

"Trixie," Honey whispered, beside her. "I think Jim wants-"

"Wants to talk to me, I know," Trixie said sourly. "If he wanted to say something to me so badly, why is he not even looking at me all of the sudden?"

"Trixie," Honey sighed, exasperated. "Give the poor boy a break. Why do you think he’s been acting so strange lately? Why do you think he’s been moping around so much? Why do you think he can barely look at you now?"

Di overheard this conversation. "Trixie," she whispered, leaning in towards them, "Honey is right… Don’t you know why Jim has been acting like a complete oaf lately?"

"I… Why?" Trixie replied blankly.

Both Honey and Di looked ready to scream in frustration. "Just. Go. Talk. To him," Honey said between gritted teeth.

"Or at least look at him," Di hissed, "rather than your potatoes."

"Fine," Trixie snapped, turning back to her plate. "Later. I swear," she added, seeing their expressions of disbelief.

True to her word, after dinner, as the crowd milled around the Wheeler’s dining room, Trixie spotted Jim through the din. She strode over to where he was standing, stopped beside him, and, looking everywhere but him, said loudly, "Jim, can you please come with me to the balcony? We apparently need to talk." She marched away, leaving Jim looking horribly confused, but with little other choice than to follow.

Upon arriving on the balcony, Trixie slowed down, suddenly realizing just what she was doing. Oh, my god, she thought frantically, what am I doing? First the hug, now this…Oh, woe, what am I going to say to Jim?

"Trixie?" Jim, panting slightly from hurrying to keep up, joined Trixie on the balcony. "Um… Not that I don’t want to talk to you or anything, or that I don’t want to be alone on the balcony with you, but… What exactly is going on?"

Trixie rounded on him, furious; mainly to disguise her mounting fear. "I don’t know, Jim. Maybe you should tell me what’s going on. Like why you’ve been acting so strangely around me lately. Or why you couldn’t even look at me in the eye at dinner. Or why suddenly, everyone is telling me I’m being a complete idiot about you, for absolutely no reason that I can see. Can you explain any of this, Jim? Because I am getting entirely sick and tired of dealing with it everyday, and you’ve only been home for 2 days. I can’t imagine what my entire summer is going to end up being like-"

"Trixie," Jim interrupted quietly.

"It’s going to be hell, I can tell you," Trixie continued feverishly. "All this ridiculous immature kid stuff, well, I won’t put up with it, Jim, either get over whatever is bothering you, or-"

"Trixie," Jim interrupted a bit louder, more insistent. "What you said was absolutely true. You have every right to know what’s going on-"

"Keep it to yourself!" Trixie nearly yelled.

Silence reigned. Then Jim at last spoke, quiet once more. "Trixie. You and I have been friends for four years; four years that have been some of the greatest times of my life…"

"Shake. My name’s Jim. What’s yours?"

Trixie’s stomach dropped to her toes at these words. What in god’s name is Jim trying to say?

"…and not," he added, catching her eye, "because of all the adventures you lead us on, or all the trips we took. What made these years so great was because I spent them with you."

"I’m Trixie Belden, and I live down there at Crabapple Farm."

Trixie squeezed her eyes shut, praying Jim would stop talking. This wasn’t going at all how she had expected. Jim doesn’t think of me as anything but a little girl, Trixie thought, panicked. Or… does he? Terror gripped her at the thought. Even if he did think of her differently, she wasn’t so sure she was ready for him to.

"When I went away to college…I…I felt like a part of me had died. I tried dating other girls…none of them even compared to you, Trixie… I measured every girl I went out with up against you, not one of them had an ounce of your spunk, or your personality that I love so much…"

Trixie couldn’t speak. Everything she had been wishing for, ever since she had met Jim four years ago, was coming true. And now, as it was finally happening, she would have given anything to make it stop.

"I guess what I’m trying to tell you," Jim said awkwardly, "is that, over these past couple years, you’ve been really special to me…"

"You know what it means, don’t you?"

"Tell me."

"…but you know already know that, don’t you..."

"It means that you’re my special girl, Trixie. As if you didn’t know that already."

" When I told you you were my ‘special girl’, I knew you were too young and not ready for the kind of relationship I wanted. Honestly," he admitted, running a hand back through his hair, "I don’t think I was ready then, either. But we’re older now…"

Trixie didn’t say anything. Jim plowed on. "Look, I know this is kind of sudden… I’ve been thinking a lot about it, actually, and I’ve been wanting to say this to you for a while now… Trixie, I… I love you."

Trixie froze, her heart momentarily stopping. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t even know if she could open her mouth, convinced if she did, she would throw up all over Jim’s sneakers.

"Trixie?" Jim said tentatively. "Say something, all right? Please? Anything…"

"Jim…" Trixie choked. "I- I can’t…" With those words Trixie fled, off the balcony, through the Wheeler’s mansion, out the front door, her only thought of getting as far away from Jim as she possibly could. Trixie tore down the path, past the stables, past the boathouse, past the clubhouse, until at last, as she neared Crabapple Farm down in the hollow, Trixie slowed down, her heart pounding, gasping for breath. She made her way to the wide porch, and limping up the steps, stopped and turned to stare up at the Manor House on the hill.

Suddenly, what she had just done hit her- she had run away from the boy she had been in love with since she was fourteen. Right after he told her he loved her. Jim loves me. The phrase kept running through her mind, burning a horrible impression that was sure to last the rest of her life. Apparently, she was not so much of a little girl anymore. Slumping into the swing on the porch, Trixie continued to stare up at the huge mansion, silhouetted now by the bright moon just behind it. Or… am I still nothing more than a little girl? She mused. Maybe that’s why Jim said that… he feels bad for me. Trixie thought back to the look on Jim’s face as he told her he loved her. No, Jim wouldn’t look at her like that if he thought she was nothing more than a kid. Trixie sank lower into the swing, her mind reeling, reflecting on the irony that, as Jim finally saw her as something other than a kid sister, she never felt more like a little girl in her life. Suddenly, something wet and cold brushed against her hand; jerking her to attention, Reddy pushed his nose into Trixie’s lap, begging to be patted. Trixie absentmindedly stroked Reddy’s head, her thoughts wandering back with Jim, alone, on the balcony.

I left him all alone, Trixie realized. I just left him there…poor Jim… he must have been so confused…Her heart constricted as she replayed the scene in her mind. Oh, god what did I do? I destroyed any hope I ever had with Jim… He’s going to hate me… Tears welled up in Trixie’s eyes. But, she told herself, dashing them away, he should have known better than to just spring that on me… Any other girl would have been just as terrified as I was… Or would they?

No, her mind firmly told her. They wouldn’t have been; they would have been thrilled to have a chance like that with Jim; a chance you just completely wrecked for good. All because you were too scared to let him know how you feel.

"Oh, God," Trixie moaned, burying her face in her hands. "What have I done?"

"Trix?" A voice drifted in to Trixie from the darkness.

Trixie’s head snapped up. "Who’s there?" she demanded suspiciously.

"It’s me," Dan appeared from out of the shadows. He climbed the steps and sat next to Trixie on the swing as Trixie discreetly tried to wipe away her tears.

"Everything ok?" Dan asked at last, breaking the silence.

"Yes… Ok, no," Trixie admitted miserably.

There was another pause, broken only by Reddy’s huffing pants, and Dan’s necklace gently clinking as he absentmindedly played with it.

"Want to talk about it?" Dan inquired softly, watching Trixie with concern.

"I… I… don’t know," Trixie murmured, running her hands over the wooden arm rest of the swing restlessly.

Dan didn’t say anything for a moment; leaning back, he stared off into the dark for a moment, his mind apparently miles away. Trixie was relieved he didn’t push the subject. She, too, relaxed and gazed at the huge crabapple tree next to the porch, now devoid of all its beautiful blossoms. Scattered along the ground under the tree, the snowy white flowers occasionally drifted by in the gentle breeze that glided unseen through the night. Trixie glumly watched the blossoms soar through the air, feeling lost and heartbroken, as though she were one of the tiny blooms now flying free into the dark.

"I know what Jim said to you," Dan spoke abruptly.

Trixie started. "What?"

"I know what he said to you," Dan repeated. "He told me he was going to… and… I know how you feel about Jim. I just wanted to say… You two… you were made for each other. I could see it ever since I first met you guys. There’s something there, something so strong, that…nobody could ever break it."

Trixie stared at Dan, feeling more lost than ever. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I can guess how you feel right now," Dan replied, suddenly very absorbed in scratching Reddy’s ears. "You…you’re probably scared out of your head. Just… don’t doubt yourself, ok Trix? You’re such a strong girl. Jim knows that. But even you get scared sometimes. And it’s ok to be scared sometimes…"

Trixie looked at Dan for a moment. Tenderness washed over her, for this friend who cared so much about her. She, resisting the urge to hug Dan, started to laugh.

"What?" Dan asked, surprised.

"When did you become a love psychoanalyst?" Trixie demanded between giggles.

Dan relaxed and grinned. "Mr. Maypenny watches nothing but Dr. Laura all day long. Most annoying."

Trixie threw back her head and laughed even louder. Tears started running down her face, and she clutched her stomach, gasping for breath.

Dan, chuckling himself, stood up. "I’d better get going. The party is almost over, you know. I imagine your family will be down here soon, looking for you."

Trixie nodded, her guffaws slowly subsiding to the occasional snigger. "Thanks, Dan…for coming to talk…for everything…" she hiccupped at last, wiping her once again wet cheeks with the back of her hands.

Dan nodded at Trixie, smiling understandingly, and then slowly walked off into the darkness, whistling, almost, it seemed to Trixie, sorrowfully.

She watched him until at last he disappeared into the dense blackness, then, standing up, stretched and headed inside her comfortable, familiar, safe Crabapple Farm.

*   *   *

"Trixie?"

Trixie stared dully at the spot on the table in the clubhouse. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember how she had gotten here. She vaguely recalled eating a hasty breakfast, and offering Moms and even hastier, and only somewhat untrue explanation of where she had disappeared to the night before. Beyond that, Trixie remembered little of the past twelve hours, save the expression of almost inhuman pain on Jim’s face as she fled from him the night before. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the scene in her mind.

"Trix?"

Trixie’s eyes popped open. Standing over her, looking quite concerned was Honey. One look at the worry on her best friend’s face finally broke the already thin thread she was desperately grasping on to. Trixie burst into tears.

"Oh… Honey…I ruined everything… Jim is going to hate me… He just doesn’t understand…" Trixie gasped between sobs.

Honey sat down next to Trixie, anxious. "What are you talking about, Trixie? What happened? Last night, when you left the party, I was so worried, and Jim wouldn’t tell me what was going on, I tried calling your house and your mother said you were sleeping, I went down there earlier and you had already left, I couldn’t find Jim, I couldn’t find you, oh Trix, please tell me, what’s going on?"

Trixie took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing herself to calm down. Then, slowly at first, she told Honey the entire story of what had happened in the past 24 hours, becoming more and more upset as she drew to a close.

"And… and then…I ran from Jim… I left him all alone on the balcony- oh, Honey, he’s going to hate me!" Trixie finished with a wail.

Honey stared at Trixie, and Trixie could have sworn she saw the sides of her mouth twitch. "Did you really tell Regan to go to hell?" Honey mused. "No wonder he was so upset yesterday."

Trixie stared back at Honey. Then she started to grin. "Was he? How angry?"

Honey, failing to conceal her sniggers, replied, "Let’s just say I’m surprised you ever even got out of the stable alive."

Trixie’s smirk died suddenly. "I wish Regan had killed me," she said despondently. "It would have made my life so much easier."

"I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he had," Honey admitted, tugging at her bangs. "But Regan’s not the point right now. Look, Trix, I know Jim probably scared you last night- terrified you, even- but he will understand if you’re not ready for something so… deep. He’s been in love with you since he was fifteen- Yes, Trix, in love with you," she added, seeing Trixie’s horrified face. "It’s the truth, and I happen to know you love him, too. Whatever fear you’re feeling now is just one snag along the road. Anyway, even if you can’t be together right now, well, that certainly shouldn’t stop you from just being friends. Jim will understand," she repeated firmly.

"But-" Trixie started.

"But nothing," Honey replied, getting to her feet. "You are going to talk to Jim, and explain how you feel. You will reach an understanding and be friendly before tomorrow morning, because I do not fancy riding for three hours in a car with two people who aren’t even speaking to one another."

"Honey…" Trixie said weakly, allowing herself to be dragged out of her seat.

The door slammed open then, cutting Trixie’s sentence short. Jim stood there, his face bright red. Barely noticing Honey, who shot Trixie a pointed look before sidling out the door, Jim walked right over to Trixie and said, "We need to talk."

"Yes," Trixie squeaked, sitting back down meekly.

Jim sat next to her, carefully avoiding her eyes. "First of all, I just wanted to apologize for last night. I realize I probably… unloaded a lot on you. I didn’t even take time to think that you weren’t ready to be… unloaded on, and I’m sorry."

"Oh, Jim," Trixie cried, "it’s me who should be apologizing. I was perfectly awful to you, I couldn’t even take the time to explain-"

Jim held up his hand to stop her. "You do not have to apologize for your feelings. I understand why you did what you did perfectly."

"Still, Trixie said unhappily. "I acted horribly, and yesterday, too, but I was so mad when I saw you and Regan arguing about me, and my temper just kind of took over…" You called me a naïve little girl! She wanted to scream at him, but bit her tongue.

Jim’s face broke into a grin at that. "I could deal with that Trixie a little better," he told her. "I’ve seen her often enough."

Trixie relented and smiled a bit, too. "Were…" she hesitated. "Were you really that worried about me?" she asked at last in a small voice.

Jim looked at her for a second, and Trixie’s heart leapt into her mouth at the love in his gaze. "I just kept thinking about that last time you rode Jupe, and I saw you flying through the air all over again…"

Trixie, not quite sure what to say, nodded. We’ll just leave this mystery for another day, she told herself.

Jim looked at the ground. "Look, Trixie… You know how I feel about you, now, but I just wanted to let you know… if we weren’t friends anymore… it would break my heart even worse." He gently ran a finger across her cheek, then, snapping his hand back, turned around and said in a slightly muffled voice over his shoulder, "Everyone’s having lunch up at our place, before we leave tomorrow. I’ll see you there, I’ve got tons of stuff to do right now." He strode out of the clubhouse, leaving Trixie alone with her, now even more so, if possible, confused feelings.

  *    *     *

Thud.

"Trixie?"

Thud.

"Trixie!"

Thud.

"TRIXIE!"

Trixie paused on the stairway, blowing a ringlet off of her forehead exasperatedly. Behind her she dragged a suitcase, filled with clothes her mother insisted she take on vacation for the week, clomping down the stairs after her with a dull thud. Glaring down the staircase into Crabapple Farm’s kitchen, Trixie spied her mother at the stove, one hand wielding a spatula, the other placed firmly on her hip. "WHAT?" Trixie demanded as she at last made her way into the kitchen, her mammoth suitcase still following.

Helen Belden’s mouth twitched, but replied sternly, "Your breakfast is getting cold, and soon to be non-existent, as your loving elder sibling is currently eyeing it with a wild ravenousness."

"MART!" Trixie howled, catching her brother’s hand as it snaked towards her plate of waffles.

"Ooerlae, der iter," Mart replied, his mouth full of waffle, spraying crumbs all over the table and Trixie as he spoke.

"Lovely," Trixie said sarcastically, sitting down, pulling bits of food from her hair. "Chew first, then swallow, Miss Manners."

Mart swallowed deeply, and repeated, "I said, you were late, dear sister. Your breakfast is fair game." He speared a waffle off her plate and brought it back to his own.

Trixie sighed and resignedly watched Mart eat her food with gusto. "I can’t even imagine how you’re still hungry, after that lunch we ate yesterday," she commented, grimacing as Mart smeared jelly all over his face and hands. "But then, look who I am talking to," she added.

Brian appeared in the kitchen then, his hair messed up and sticking up in every direction, his eyes slightly red. Without a word, he sat down next to Mart and began to eat hungrily.

"Where’s Daddy?" Trixie asked, still engrossed in Mart’s dining etiquette. "Did he leave already?"

"He left about ten minutes before you got up," Her mother told her, setting a fresh pitcher of orange juice on the table. "He said for you and Mart to have a wonderful time, be good, and Trixie, please, please, for the love of god, don’t get involved in another mystery and nearly get yourself killed," she finished. As an afterthought, she added, "And Mart, watch your table manners."

Mart looked up, injured. "He did not say that!"

"’Course he didn’t," Bobby piped up from the end of the table. "Moms just did. But not that you would listen-"

"Oh, pipe down, halfling."

"MOMS! He called me a- what’s a halfling?"

Beep, beep.

"They’re here!" Trixie squawked, shoving a waffle hurriedly into her mouth as she scrambled around to get her suitcase. Mart flew past her into hall to retrieve his own bag.

"I’ll take that," Brian said, reaching over and hefting the suitcase off the ground. He grimaced. "What have you got in here, a sack of bricks?"

"Mom’s recommended wardrobe," Trixie told him. "Hurry, they might leave-"

"They’re not going to leave without you, Trix," Brian chuckled, obediently following her out the door. "Imagine how boring the trip would be if they did."

 

"TRIXIE!" Honey squealed from the back seat of her parent’s Lincoln town car. "Oh, hurry up, you guys! We want to get there soon, hurry-"

"Now, Honey," Matthew Wheeler interrupted with a deep chuckle as he climbed out from behind the driver’s seat, "We have all morning, take your time, kids. Trixie," he grinned, "what is that you’re bringing with you? Your whole closet?"

Trixie grinned back. "Just about. Golly, Mr. Wheeler, thank you so much for taking us all with you. This must be about the tenth trip we’ve begged off of you…"

"Not at all, Trixie, not at all," Mr. Wheeler replied cheerfully. "We’d better get going soon, though, we promised the family we’d be there before lunch." He helped Trixie load her suitcase into the trunk, and after hugging Brian, Bobby and her mother goodbye, Trixie climbed into the back of the car beside Honey, followed closely by Mart. On Honey’s other side sat Jim, who readily greeted them with "Good morning," and a smile. Trixie, relieved at the lack of tension between her and Jim, smiled in return and relaxed against the back of the seat.

Mart, still waving out the window to Bobby as they pulled away from the house, turned to the front and asked, "So, who are we going to be visiting with again?"

In the passenger’s seat, Mrs. Wheeler tittered. "I thought you told them all of this, Honey," she gently scolded her daughter.

"A bit," Honey replied. "Just that it was your family, and they lived right outside Albany…"

"Ah, yes," Mrs. Wheeler nodded. "Stonewall, New York. A lovely little town. It’s where I grew up, you know."

"Tell them whom we’re staying with," Honey urged her mother.

"Well," Mrs. Wheeler began, shifting in her seat to look back at them, "We’re staying at my sister Elizabeth’s and her husband Gary’s home, Anduril Hall. It’s a beautiful old place, dates back to the Civil War. It was built by my ancestors, when they immigrated from England."

"Anduril?" Mart repeated. "What on earth does that mean?"

" ‘Flame of the West’," Mrs. Wheeler told him. "It’s named so because the estate stands on the western hill of the valley. When the sun rises in the morning, Anduril Hall is the first thing it hits, making it look like it’s in flames to those who are looking up from down in the valley."

Trixie leaned forward eagerly. "Does it have any ghost stories, Mrs. Wheeler?"

"Trixie, for God’s sakes, can’t we have one normal vacation, where you don’t go scavenging around for emeralds, or seeing ghost ships in the middle of the night?" Mart groaned. Trixie stuck her tongue out at him.

Mrs. Wheeler chuckled. "I’m afraid there isn’t any mystery that hasn’t been already solved, Trixie. There was an old tale about a sea captain staying there and disappearing into the Hudson one night, but that was explained a few summers ago, when researchers discovered the captain’s log at his home in Brooklyn. It was found out that the old captain had gotten quite drunk, sailed his boat down the Hudson into the Atlantic Ocean and wrecked it somewhere off Fire Island. He survived and lived to be eighty-three years old."

"Oh," Trixie slumped back, disappointed.

"Don’t despair yet, Trix," Honey told her, her eyes twinkling. "Stonewall has its own story that’s pretty fantastic."

"Oh, yeah?" Mart looked interested despite himself. "What’s that?"

"Well," Honey began, "When the town was first founded, it was a mining town, you know. Almost all of the people who settled it were miners. Back about one hundred and fifty years ago or so, I’d say, isn’t that right, Mother?"

"About," Mrs. Wheeler agreed. "It attracted many people during the Industrial Revolution. Coal was discovered in the hills of the valley, so naturally people flocked to that area. Stonewall used to be quite a big boomtown in the late eighteen hundreds."

"Is it still mined?" Trixie asked.

"Oh, no," Mrs. Wheeler replied. "Around the turn of the century, the mining industry in that area died down quite a bit. Many, many people were migrating west during this time. One reason was because the coal supply was nearly exhausted in the valley. Another reason, which I believe is the story Honey was speaking of, is a much more appealing explanation."

Trixie turned eagerly to Honey. "Tell!"

Honey grinned. "The story goes that there were very few mines left in the valley, but the ones that were there were incredibly deep, because, of course, there wasn’t any more coal in the safer, shallower areas. It was tons more dangerous going so deep into the hills, but, after all, what choice did they have? They had to feed their families, and mining was their livelihood. So, naturally, the miners would keep going deeper and deeper underground, with the coal supply quickly running out. One day, in the deepest mine in the valley, a fire started way down in the very bottom of the shaft. The miners were all scrambling to get out of the mine, but for some unexplainable reason, the entrance to the mine collapsed before any of them could get out. The entry was never able to be re-opened, and all the miners burned to death. Presumably, all of their bodies are still underground, and the mine was built over top of with houses constructed around nineteen-ten. Now, supposedly, the ghosts of the miners can be heard at night in the houses, angry because their resting place was disturbed. You can hear them screaming in anger, and pain as they burn to death, and the fire crackling in the mine. I’ve never heard them," Honey finished, "but that may be because I was always too scared to go out to the old, abandoned houses that are overtop of the mines at night."

Trixie’s eyes were wide. "Is that a true story?" she gasped.

Mr. Wheeler laughed heartily from the driver’s seat. "Indeed, it’s true," he affirmed. "At least, the mine collapse and fire is. It’s been well documented in many Stonewall historical records."

"Gleeps!" was all Mart could say.

Jim smiled at Trixie. "It looks like our shamus has found yet another mystery to keep us all occupied this week."

Trixie giggled. "As long as I’m not too scared to go out to the abandoned houses to investigate. They sound wonderfully creepy."

"You, afraid?" Jim said with a chuckle. "Not fearless Trixie…" At this, his voice died away, and he turned to stare out the window.

An uncomfortable silence descended upon the backseat of the car; unbeknownst to Mrs. Wheeler, who continued chatting merrily, "My sister Elizabeth is so thrilled that you’re all coming up with us. Anduril Hall is hardly ever full anymore these days, but with all of us staying, plus their son Bill coming home for a visit, Aunt Elisa, of course, she’s always there, and Ben- Ben’s going to be there, did I tell you, Honey?"

"No, Mother," Honey replied, smothering her giggle over the face Trixie made at the mention of Honey’s cousin, Ben Riker. "What is Ben coming up for?"

"Oh, nothing more than a visit," Mrs. Wheeler answered, waving a slim hand. "His classes at Princeton were finished in early May, of course, so he decided to drop by when he heard we were staying for a bit."

"How lovely," Trixie forced out.

"As lovely as discovering the hundred year old secret of angry spirits wandering around old abandoned houses?" Mart murmured in her ear.

"Not even close," Trixie whispered back.

 

Two hours later, the Wheelers' car pulled into an extensive, nearly mile-long drive, almost completely shaded by huge evergreens towering over the narrow road. The immense gates at the front were open, but a sign at the entrance notified them that this was Andruil Hall.

Trixie leaned over Mart, her nose pushed right up against the glass, straining for a glimpse of the house. She gasped as it came into view. "Jeepers! It… it looks like a castle!"

"I would have to concur with that assessment," Mart breathed, awed. "And you said only two people live here, now?"

Mrs. Wheeler shook her head as the car pulled around the cul-de-sac to the front door. "Three. Elizabeth and Gary, and of course, my aunt Elisa…" her voice trailed off.

The house sat upon the highest hill in the valley, to the west, overlooking the small town below, to the east, rocky, hundred-feet high cliffs plummeting straight down to the Hudson River. Three stories high, the house, made entirely of stone, included a sprawling front porch, vast cathedral windows, three balconies along the front side of the estate, and, Trixie could see, behind it, a large stable and immense gardens that were beautifully in bloom.

The towering, wooden front doors of the house banged open as the Wheelers and Beldens piled out of the car. "Madeline! Matthew! Oh, we’re so glad you’re here! Welcome, welcome!" A beautiful, tall, honey-haired woman rushed towards them, her arms spread open in greeting. She was the exact likeliness of Mrs. Wheeler, except a bit older. Just behind her were a handsome, beaming elder man, and a younger chap that appeared to be his son.

"Elizabeth!" Mrs. Wheeler exclaimed, giving her a quick hug. "It’s so lovely to see you!"

"And you!" Elizabeth told her, smiling widely. "Matthew, you too, you look wonderful… and Honey! I swear, you look more like your mother every time I see you, it’s astonishing."

"She doesn’t look unlike you, Liz," Gary stepped up, grinning. He turned to everyone else. "It is great to have you all here. Jim, my boy! How are you, how is college coming along?"

"Fine," Jim shook Gary’s hand. "College is great. I’m…great."

Elizabeth seemed not to notice Jim’s less-than-enthusiastic response. "This must be Trixie and Mart, of course! Maddie and Matthew have told us all about you, of course, its so lovely to have you here."

"Thank you so much for inviting us to stay," Trixie replied. "You have a beautiful home…"

Mart seconded. "It’s terrific, and it’s great of you to have us…"

"Oh, not at all, my dears, not at all!" Elizabeth waved their thanks away. "We have too much room as it is!"

The young man on the porch stepped up then. "I’m Bill," he said to Trixie and Mart, smiling in welcome. "Honey and Jim’s cousin, of course. Nice to meet you all."

"Nice to meet you, too," Trixie replied, smiling in return. She did not fail to notice that Honey’s cousin was extremely good looking. Dark brown hair flopped gently over his forehead, almost concealing the deep, brooding eyes that belied his brilliant smile.

Gary, who had been deep in conversation with Mr. Wheeler about Anduril Hall’s recurring problems of dry rot, turned then to the rest of the group now lugging their bags out of the Wheelers car. "Come, come, let me call some of our help to get them. Charles!" he called through the open door.

A stiff looking man in a dark suit, presumably Anduril Hall’s butler appeared in the doorway. "Yes, sir?"

"Please bring the bags in and carry them up to the rooms," Gary told him. "The ones we have set up for the Wheelers and their friends."

"Yes, sir," Charles disdainfully stepped down porch steps to the Wheeler’s car.

"Everyone, please, come inside," Elizabeth flitted to the door. "We have lunch all set up in the dining room, and Ben has already arrived-"

The group obediently followed Elizabeth inside to the immense foyer, where a sweeping marble staircase greeted them, and past the sitting area into the dining room. Ben Riker was already seated at the table, looking bored and hungry. Next to him sat a frail, elderly woman with gray, frizzy hair.

"Hey, all," Ben greeted them in a drawling voice. "It’s about time you showed up. I’m starving."

"Ben," Elizabeth scolded with a chuckle.

Trixie barely caught herself from rolling her eyes.

"Aunt Elisa!" Mrs. Wheeler hugged the ancient woman sitting next to Ben. "How are you, my dear?"

Elisa looked at her with unfocused eyes before replying distantly, "Mars is bright tonight."

"Same as always," Mrs. Wheeler sighed, straightening. "Look, Aunt Elisa, we brought Honey with us, and Jim… And this is Trixie and Mart Belden, friends of ours. Trixie and Mart," Mrs. Wheeler turned to them. "This is my aunt Elisa."

"How do you do?" Trixie asked politely, still wondering at Elisa’s cryptic statement.

Elisa remained silent, gazing at Trixie as though she were something from another world. At last, she turned back to her plate with a decisive, "I lost my happy face."

An uncomfortable silence descended upon the table, until at last, Charles came in with several trays of delectable-looking fare. Mart was in seventh heaven.

They ate the delicious lunch of soup, salad, and sandwiches, and amid a lively conversation, Trixie managed to find out much about the town of Stonewall and its supposed haunting.

"They told me you fancied yourself a detective," Bill said to her, grinning, after Trixie spent a merciless hour questioning him, "but I didn’t know you were quite so… enthusiastic."

"Oh, Trix is enthusiastic, all right," Mart said, reaching for another roll. "Only when she’s on the hunt of a mystery, though. Just try tempting her with dusting or washing the dishes; she’s about as apathetic as they come."

Bill chuckled. "I would expect so."

Gary laughed from the other end of the table. "There isn’t much of a mystery, as far as I’m concerned, when it comes to those old coal mines and the abandoned houses. No sir, the only mystery I can see is why they haven’t knocked those old contraptions down yet."

"It would be because they’re privately owned, I would assume," Mr. Wheeler guessed. "The proprietor simply doesn’t want them destroyed."

Gary shrugged. "I can’t imagine why. All boarded up like that, it’s a public nuisance is what it is. No, there’s no mystery down there as far as I can see. You want a mystery, you go look around next door, now there’s something to be investigated, can’t understand why the cops aren’t out here right now, checking up on things-"

"Gary," Elizabeth said in a warning tone, and Gary fell silent.

Throughout the rest of lunch, Trixie could barely contain her curiosity at Gary’s strange words. Twisting around in her seat, she managed to catch a glimpse out the big bay window facing west out of the dining room, of an enormous house about half a mile away. As big as Anduril Hall, it looked dark, gloomy, and- Trixie sucked in her breath excitedly- mysterious.

Trixie turned and kicked Honey under the table. Honey gave a tiny yelp of pain, and stared at Trixie. Trixie looked back at her with huge questioning eyes, inclining her head slightly towards Gary. Honey shook her head and mouthed, later.

As soon as lunch was over, the boys headed straight out for the stables, pausing only long enough to invite the girls with them. Honey waved them on and said she and Trixie would join them in a moment; the adults retired into the parlor, followed by a tottering Aunt Elisa, and Trixie drug Honey up to their room, after being showed where it was by a sneering Charles.

"What," Trixie asked, shutting the door behind her, "was all that Gary was saying? About next door? Are you telling me there’s another mystery lurking around this town?"

Honey sighed and sat down on the bed. "Not really. What happened next door was years and years ago. Gary is just upset about it, because, well, it happened at Cliffedge Manor, and the person who did it, I assume, is living there again."

"Cliffedge Manor?" Trixie repeated, sitting down beside Honey. "The big creepy house up the hill?" She waved a hand out the window, where the estate was just barely visible.

"Right," Honey replied. "It’s as old as Anduril Hall is, I think, and its right along the cliffs, which, naturally, is where it gets its name."

Trixie stood back up and went over to stare out the window. "So what happened? Who is living there now, and why doesn’t Gary like him?"

"I don’t really know the whole story," Honey said, leaning back against the headboard. "Just that there was a family living there, the Martins, I think their name was, and the father…well, the father murdered his son."

"He what!" Trixie gasped, wheeling around.

"He murdered his son," Honey repeated, toying with her hair restively. "Or at least, he was convicted of murdering him. He went to jail ages ago, but got out and is apparently living at Cliffedge Manor again. Elisa," she added uncomfortably, "is the one who found the boy’s body. It…well, it drove her to insanity, which is why she’s…" her voice faded.

Trixie’s jaw dropped. "There’s a convicted murderer next door," she said nervously, eyeing Cliffedge Manor with unease.

"It seems that way," Honey agreed, jumping up. "Oh, Trix, let's go down to the stables. Forget about Cliffedge Manor. We don’t need to get involved in people’s private affairs, let alone affairs that happened decades ago."

"I wasn’t planning on getting involved," Trixie said defensively, following Honey out the door. "I’m not dumb enough to fool around with murderers, I can tell you that. Especially ones cold-blooded enough to kill their own son," she added with a shiver.

The girls walked down to the stables to find the boys had already saddled and bridled horses for them.

"I picked Dante for you," Bill said to Trixie, handing her the reins of a beautiful black stallion. His eyes twinkled. "He’s a bit feisty, but I was assured you were a bit feisty yourself, and could handle him."

Trixie was immediately reminded of Jupiter back at the Wheeler’s stable and of her glorious ride only the day before. "He’s perfect!" she cried, stroking Dante’s neck. "Thank you," Trixie said sincerely, turning to Bill.

"Sure, darlin’," Bill grinned. "Your brother Mart was also telling me some of the cases you cracked doing your detective thing. I couldn’t believe it- a pretty girl like you, a detective?"

Trixie blushed. "Well, I don’t know about pretty…"

"Pardon me?" Bill pretended to be stunned. "From where I sit, love, you’re beautiful." He gently rested his hand on Trixie’s arm for a moment before mounting his own horse.

At this, Jim abruptly left the stable on his horse in a gallop, creating a huge cloud of dust that caused everyone fits of coughing.

"Well!" Ben said, from atop his own horse. "I guess that means it’s time to go." He looked at Trixie for a moment, then snickered, and followed Jim out into the corral.

Oh, dear, Trixie thought, swinging into the saddle, I guess Jim saw that. Well, it’s not like he has a right to be angry, and after all, Bill didn’t even really do anything. Not that I would be interested if he did. But, by the looks of things, Ben now somehow knew about the situation between her and Jim, which suddenly made things infinitely worse.

Honey looked at Trixie, her eyes wide and questioning. Trixie shrugged at her, helpless. Honey turned and rode out of the stable, looking concernedly around for Jim.

Oh, woe, Trixie lamented, following Honey into the bright sunlight, here for one day and already trouble arises. Two mysteries, the tattered remains of my love life, and Ben Riker to deal with. Well, she sighed, urging Dante into a trot, no one every said growing up was easy.

To Be Continued

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