"Here," Mrs. Vanderpoel said shortly, and slapped a piece of raw meat on Brian's blackened eye. "I'll let you know when you're allowed to remove it," she told him dourly, as if daring him to express an opinion.

From his spot on the opposite side of the kitchen table, Mr. Frayne smirked slightly before resuming his glare. Brian ignored him, his good eye falling closed as he concentrated on the soothing sensation of the raw meat on his swollen eye.

"And I've just the thing for you," Mrs. Vanderpoel continued. Without fanfare, she seized Mr. Frayne's scraped and bloodied hand and unceremoniously shoved it into a bowl of snow. He yelped in both surprise and pain at the unexpected cold, and it was Brian's turn to smirk.

"You'll sit there like the young gentlemen that I know you both to be until I say otherwise," she concluded, hands on hips.

"Yes, ma'am," they muttered.

"Hmm…" she said, eyes narrow, obviously doubting their sincerity. "I've other matters to attend to, and I'll not spend my afternoon coddling two grown men, even if they are acting like toddlers. As that's the last of the steaks, I suggest that you refrain from pummelling each other."

With a swirl of her voluminous skirts and pleated apron, she swept from the room.

Standing in the corner of the kitchen, arms folded over her chest, Trixie continued to glare at the young men.

"Aw, come on," Brian finally said, opening his good eye. "I just got home! You're not really going to stay mad at me, are you?"

Trixie raised an eyebrow and tapped her foot in agitation.

"It's not as if I'm the one who threw the punch," he continued, his voice soothing and completely reasonable. The calming effect was lost, however, on Mr. Frayne.

"If I didn't owe your family a debt of gratitude I'd hit you again," Mr. Frayne said, his green eyes sharp and cold. "As it is, my sister and I will be leaving as soon as her maid arrives to help her pack and Mr. Wheeler can ready the sled."

Trixie's lips pressed together tightly, not only because she was loathe to have either Honey or Mr. Frayne leave Crabapple Farm, but because of the expression of regret and longing on her brother's face when Honey was mentioned.

"She's upstairs?" Brian asked softly. "Truly?"

Mr. Frayne glared at him. "It's none of your concern. I believe you were informed of that fact less than a month ago when Mr. Wheeler paid you a visit."

"Is that how you know each other?" Trixie asked, her curiosity overcoming her private vow to ignore the men. "Was Mr. Wheeler a patient of yours, Brian?"

Mr. Frayne snorted. "No," he said, still glaring at Brian. "My sister was a patient of Dr. Ferris'. He's been her doctor ever since she was young. When he told us that he was grooming a promising young man to take his place, we were relieved that we wouldn't have to go looking for another doctor for Honey when Ferris retired. She was very attached to him, you see, and she wasn't comfortable finding a new doctor." He paused long enough to renew his glare at Brian. "What we didn't expect was for her to come home mooning about how wonderful and handsome the new doctor was!"

"It wasn’t like that!" Brian protested, his face flushed. "I didn't— She— It was completely professional!"

Trixie would have believed him except for the fact that his blush deepened as he spoke. Brian was many things. An accomplished liar was not one of them.

"You fell in love," she said, surprised. "It wasn't just Honey being infatuated with a handsome young doctor. You care about her!"

"Of course I do! But I swear, nothing inappropriate happened!" His expression was earnest as he pleaded with his sister. "You have to believe me, Trixie! I would never take advantage of my position—"

"Your position?" Mr. Frayne scoffed. "You have no position! You're a mere doctor, and not a suitable suitor for Honey!"

"I know that!" he exclaimed. "Don't you think I know that? She's… she's far too good for me," he finished miserably.

"We agree on that, at least," Mr. Frayne said. Though it was obvious that he wasn't happy, Brian's statement seemed to have curbed the brunt of his anger.

"I never meant to cause Miss Wheeler any distress," Brian continued softly, leaning back and closing his good eye. "Not knowingly, at least. She's kind, and sweet, and…" he paused, "perfect."

"You do love her," Mr. Frayne said, frowning. "I had thought you were merely trying to get into her good graces, hoping to marry a young lady of considerable fortune."

Brian frowned, but didn't open his eye. After shifting the steak to move a cooler patch of it over his eye, he said, "You've seen for yourself how we Beldens live. I'm perfectly satisfied with the income I generate as a doctor."

Mr. Frayne nodded grudgingly. "I can respect that," he said reluctantly.

"You can respect that?" Trixie exploded. She'd kept quiet, knowing that she was bound to say something she would regret if she opened her mouth at all.

"Of course I can," Mr. Frayne said. "Money isn't everything."

"But you said you didn't want Honey to marry someone so poor!" she protested.

"I didn't say that," Mr. Frayne said, a tinge of exasperation in his voice. "I said that I didn't want Honey to marry someone who was only interested in her money."

"Oh." Trixie brightened. "So you don't have a problem with—"

"Stop right there," Brian said, standing up. He held one hand up in a halting motion and used the other to keep the steak on his eye. "This isn't any of your business, Trixie."

She scowled. "It is, too!" she insisted. "Honey's my friend, and—"

"And she'd like to know what all the commotion is about," a sweet voice said. "Goodness, Jim. I could hear from all the way upstairs!" Honey stepped into the kitchen, a bright smile on her face.

"Miss Wheeler," Brian said, his voice choked.

Honey stopped short, her smile frozen in place. "Dr. Belden?" she whispered, the colour draining from her face. "What are you— I thought—" She sat down suddenly and covered her mouth with her hand. Trixie deserted her post leaning against the kitchen counter to kneel next to her.

"Honey?" she asked anxiously, "are you well?"

A sound something between a choked cry and a laugh escaped the young lady, but she waved aside Trixie's concern. "I'm perfectly well," she managed to say.

Brian took a halting step toward her, but slowed as if he was uncertain about whether or not she would accept his presence. When the steak slid off his face and landed on the kitchen floor, he stopped entirely and bent down to pick it up.

"Dr. Belden!" Honey exclaimed. "What happened to your eye?"

Brian paused, still crouched on the floor. No one answered.

"Well? Jim?" For the first time, Honey appeared to notice that her brother's hand was submerged in a bowl of slowly melting snow. "What on earth…?"

"Why don't we go in the sitting room," Trixie suggested, taking Honey's arm and guiding her out of the kitchen. "I'll tell you all about it," she promised, very carefully avoiding looking at either Brian or Mr. Frayne.

"But…" Honey glanced over her shoulder, her eyes lingering on Brian. "I really don't understand," she said vaguely.

"Enough!" Mr. Frayne slapped his hand down on the table, grimacing as his bruises and abrasions were irritated. "Honey, it would appear that the background search your father performed was in error. Dr. Belden is not one of the Pennsylvania Beldens. He is a resident of Westchester County, and the eldest son of our hosts and neighbours."

"You thought I was from Pennsylvania?" Brian questioned, standing up. "Why didn't you just ask me?" He paused. "Oh. I suppose that's not really how clandestine background checks work, is it?" He glared at the red-headed man and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I didn't authorize the investigation," Mr. Frayne said, his face colouring at Brian's censure.

His tone acerbic, Brian retorted, "But you certainly seem familiar with the conclusions."

"Stop it!" Honey cried. "Just stop! Both of you!" She was trembling, her hands pulled into fists at her side. "Jim. Please!" she whispered.

With a final glare at Brian, Mr. Frayne shoved past him, "accidentally" bumping his shoulder, to join his sister. He attempted to guide her to the staircase leading to the second floor rooms.

"No," she said firmly, and brushed his hand from her arm. "I want to speak to Dr. Belden."

Lips pressed to a thin line, Mr. Frayne looked from her back to Brian.

"Honey," he said, his voice low, "are you certain that's a good idea? You know what your father—"

"I'm positive," she said, giving him a small smile.

Mr. Frayne's expression softened, and he leaned close to his sister to whisper in her ear. This time, Honey did not pull away from him, and Trixie could just make out his words.

"You're a stronger woman than you know, Honey Wheeler."

With that enigmatic statement, he turned his attention to Trixie and offered her his arm. "Miss Belden? Shall we take advantage of the sitting room?"

Trixie blinked, shocked that Mr. Frayne was willing to leave his sister alone in the kitchen with her brother. "Of course," she said, and walked with him out of the room, hoping to catch at least a word or two of what she was convinced would be a fascinating conversation between Honey and Brian.

Mr. Frayne, however, seemed intent on giving them their privacy, and guided her into the sitting room without delay.

"Would you like to play checkers?" he asked, and Trixie gaped at him.

"Checkers?" she questioned. "Really? Now?" She shook her head. "I don't think so." She patted the seat beside her on the small settee and motioned for him to join her. Instead, he seated himself in the sturdier chair beside her. "I think we'd be much better served by you explaining what just happened." She crossed her arms over her chest, and then flushed when she noted that his eyes had been drawn to her cleavage, just for a second. She shifted again, suddenly feeling awkward, uncomfortable, and frustrated. What she wouldn't give to understand what was happening at Crabapple Farm!

"I'm not sure what to tell you," he said, breaking the stretching silence.

"You don't know what to tell me?" Trixie exploded. "Why don't you start with why you hit Brian? Or what Mr. Wheeler's problem with him is? Or you could just explain the cryptic statement you made about Brian ruining Honey! He wouldn't! He didn't!"

Mr. Frayne ran his hand through his hair, causing it to stand out in multiple directions. It was such a departure from his normally tidy appearance that Trixie was almost distracted, but she refused to be sidetracked.

"Well?" she demanded.

"When I said I wasn't sure what to tell you, I meant that I wasn't sure what, if anything, was my place to say." He held her stormy gaze. "It's not that I don't want to tell you." He paused. "Honey really didn't say anything to you?"

Trixie shrugged. "Certainly not about being ruined! And nothing about a doctor who shares the same last name as me."

Mr. Frayne pressed his lips together. "I shouldn't have said that he ruined her," he admitted quietly. "He didn't. Not in the way it sounded."

Trixie felt some of the tension ease from her body. She hadn't really believed that her responsible, upright oldest brother would do anything so dishonourable, especially to a patient.

"But in a way, it's true," he continued. He held up a hand when Trixie started to speak, outraged on her brother's behalf. "Just listen," he pled. "Honey became very… attached to Dr. Belden over the course of the last few months," he said, his eyes darting in the direction of the kitchen, as if worried that the topic of their conversation might hear him.

"We didn't think anything of it. Honey's such a kind person…" he said, his voice trailing off. "We teased her, actually. Insinuated that she was using her illness to make new friends." He smiled, as if reliving a pleasant memory. "She did, you know. Make new friends. With every nurse and doctor she met."

"That doesn't surprise me in the least," Trixie said. "She certainly made me feel welcome the moment I entered the Manor, and she's been a perfect house guest. I'm sure that Moms is trying to work out a way to keep her here for as long as possible. Or, failing that, sending me back with the Wheelers, instead," she said with a grimace.

"What?" Mr. Frayne asked, smiling. "The idea of living in New York City doesn't appeal to you?"

She wrinkled her nose in distaste. "I should think not! I doubt you even have crab apple trees! No, I'm really more of a country girl."

He nodded. "I understand. If I could, I'd live in the country, too." He glanced out the window, as if reminding himself that, for the moment at least, he really was far from the noise and dirt of New York City.

"Why don't you?" Trixie asked curiously. "I mean, you can pretty much do whatever you want, can't you?"

"You would think so, wouldn't you?" he replied wryly. "I shouldn't complain. I really do spend large portions of time at Ten Acres, my family home. In order to take care of the family finances, however, I'm obliged to be in the city frequently. Mrs. Wheeler is gracious enough to allow me to stay at their home."

"Ah." Trixie nodded, understanding his sentiments perfectly. "Wait! You distracted me!" She frowned at him. "Back to your explanation, please." She tapped her foot impatiently.

With a sigh, Mr. Frayne turned away from the window. "Very well. As I was saying, Honey tends to make friends wherever she goes. Her sweet disposition makes her a favourite patient." He stood up and began pacing the room.

Trixie nodded. "She's lovely," she agreed.

"And we thought nothing of her glowing accounts of Dr. Belden until…" He stopped abruptly and stood in front of the window, staring out at the winter landscape. "Mr. Wheeler finally decided on a suitor for Honey." He paused. "And Honey said no."

Trixie tilted her head to the side. "And that's unusual?" she asked.

He turned toward her. "Honey never says no to her father. You mightn't be able to tell from what you've seen, but they really are very close. Much closer than Honey and Mrs. Wheeler." He glanced toward the kitchen again. "He dotes on her. Somehow, he manages to both pamper her and encourage her to do anything that she wants to, regardless of her health limitations."

Trixie thought of how Mr. Wheeler had insisted on Honey visiting Crabapple Farm, ignoring the objections of both Mrs. Wheeler and Mrs. Riker.

"Honey has always trusted him implicitly," Mr. Frayne continued. "I can't imagine how difficult it must have been for her to tell Mr. Wheeler that she wasn't interested in marrying Mr. Collins."

"But she did," Trixie said thoughtfully. "Because of Brian?"

He nodded once. "Yes. She refused to give a reason for the longest time, but Mr. Wheeler was so worried about her that she eventually told him that she couldn't marry anyone because she was in love with someone else. She didn't feel that it would be proper to marry someone she didn't love, even though she knew that she was unlikely to ever be allowed to marry the man she did love. Mr. Wheeler was livid," he said, grimacing. "He was certain that some poor wastrel was attempting to marry a rich heiress, and he kept at Honey until she gave him a name."

"Leading to the private detective," she continued.

Mr. Frayne nodded. "Yes. I still can't believe he bungled the job so badly."

Trixie shrugged. "We have distant relatives in Pennsylvania. It's possible there's a Brian Belden in that branch of the family. We don't have much contact with them, so I wouldn't know. Moms might…"

"It's not as if it matters now."

That was true.

"Did Honey ever say if Brian returned her affection?" Trixie asked, knowing just from observing her brother that he most certainly did. She also suspected, however, that he hadn't said as much to Honey.

He shook his head. "She would only ever say that he hadn't taken advantage of her, and that he wasn't after her money."

Trixie nodded. "It's true, you know," she said. "Brian really wouldn't set out to seduce an heiress."

"I know," he said shortly. "And that almost makes it worse."

Trixie's eyes widened in outrage. "How dare you!" she exclaimed. "You would prefer that my brother be a no-good, conniving—"

"Of course not," he snapped back. "But it would make separating Honey from him much easier."

"You like him," Trixie guessed. "Don't you?"

"I liked him up to the moment he started causing trouble for Honey," he said promptly. "I hadn't met him, but he always put Honey at ease and he treated her illness effectively."

"And now?" Trixie pressed.

"I still like him," he admitted reluctantly. "He defended his sister without thinking twice and didn't escalate the situation, even after I punched him."

"He wasn't exactly acting like a ray of sunshine when you were in the kitchen glaring daggers at each other," she pointed out.

"Well, I did land a rather good punch, didn't I?" he smirked.

Rolling her eyes, shifted her skirts to make more room on the settee, and this time, Mr. Frayne joined her. They were pressed together, knee to shoulder, but instead of recalling their intimacy in the snow bank, it felt comfortable.

"He'd be good for her," he said with a sigh.

"Is that not a good thing?" Trixie asked, confused.

"It is," he assured her. "But… It would be easier if he were a cad. I would take Honey away from Crabapple Farm and make sure that they never come in contact again. Now…"

"Now what?" Trixie pressed. "What are you going to do? You're not going to leave Sleepyside, are you?" She grasped his arm tightly, staring up at him with wide blue eyes. "You can't go! Honey is so excited about spending Christmas here—she's going to ask her mother if you and she can't stay here at Crabapple Farm for the entire holiday. She's even asked Moms if Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler can come to Christmas dinner! You know she's always wanted a country Christmas!"

"Trixie!" Mr. Frayne exclaimed, laughing in spite of the heavy conversation. "I'm not going to insist that we leave." He placed his hand over hers, and she suddenly realized how very close they were sitting. They had both angled their bodies towards each other, his hand was gripping hers tightly, and she was lost in the pull of his eyes. "It's not as if I want to leave," he murmured.

"Oh," she whispered. "That’s… that's good."

"Very good," he repeated, but his eyes were on her lips, and she found herself swallowing nervously, and then parting her lips to lick them, and he was even closer, and—

"Are we playing checkers again?" Bobby asked, tumbling into the room. "I was working on my present for Miss Wheeler upstairs, but if we're playing games again—" He stopped abruptly, as if realizing that he had interrupted something other than a game of checkers.

Trixie pulled away from Mr. Frayne, snatching her hands out of his grasp and using them to put her skirts to right. Mr. Frayne ran a hand through his hair again, causing it to become even more dishevelled.

"What were you—" Bobby started to ask, his tone amused, when Honey and Brian entered the room.

"Brian!" Bobby exclaimed happily. "You're home!"

Brian smiled briefly at his youngest brother, but his attention was fixed on Mr. Frayne. Mr. Frayne, however, was staring at Brian and Honey's joined hands. Honey, face flushed, smiled apprehensively and nodded.

"You know this is going to give Mrs. Riker heart palpitations," Mr. Frayne said, smiling a trifle sadly.

Honey giggled despite her obvious tension. "Everything gives Aunt Caroline heart palpitations."

Mr. Frayne strode to his sister's side, ignoring Brian. "And you're happy?" he asked, his voice low, but still audible to Trixie as she strained to catch the conversation.

"Happier than I've ever been," she assured him. "And if Mother and Father don’t come around, I'm going to depend on you to walk me down the aisle."

Trixie's eyes widened as the import of Honey's words struck her. "You're getting married?" she shrieked. When Brian glared at her, she repeated her words in an awed whisper. "You're getting married? To Brian?"

Honey nodded proudly and squeezed Brian's hand. "As soon as possible." She looked up at him, her eyes filled with love, admiration, and trust. "I think a Christmas wedding would be lovely, don't you?"

Trixie found herself crying, nodding, and enveloping Honey in a tight hug, all at the same time. "We can use garland to decorate, and holly. Red and green! It will be perfectly perfect. You'll see!"

"Christmas?" Mr. Frayne questioned, his voice rough. "Are you sure? When are you going to tell your parents?"

Honey smiled mischievously. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of ruining their Christmas surprise!" she said, and Trixie had to stifle an hysterical giggle. Honey Wheeler, daughter of one of the wealthiest families in New York City, was essentially eloping at Crabapple Farm, and inviting her own parents to the elopement.

It was utterly ridiculous and absolutely perfect.