Somewhere in the preserve...

"Hey, Hon, er, Celia, I think this tree looks familiar," Trixie said, pointing at an especially deformed tree just off to the side of the path.

"Of course it looks familiar," Honey said, stopping to rest against the landmark. "We've passed it three times already!"

"Oh!" Trixie blushed and joined her friend in taking a break. "I can't believe we haven't found our way back yet," she said. "This is just plain embarrassing!"

"I don't care so much about the embarrassment," Honey countered. "It's the eventual exposure to the elements and starvation that's bothering me."

Trixie scoffed at her friend's concerns. "We can't be that far from Maypenny's cabin! I mean, really. All we did was take one of the smaller paths when we saw some raspberries farther into the woods. We can't have gone far..."

"No, we're probably just walking in circles," Honey agreed. "And I'm tired." Ignoring the risk of hurting her unprotected feet on the ground, she slipped off her shoes and sank to a seated position. "I don't care if we're five feet from Maypenny's cabin. I'm not stirring another inch until I've had a rest!" she declared.

"Shh!" Trixie hissed. "Did you hear that?"

Honey dutifully listened, but the woods were silent, save for the chatter of little animals.

"There! That!" Trixie obviously heard something that Honey didn't. Honey shook her head apologetically, but then stopped as she caught the sound of a low voice singing.

"I don't care who it is," Trixie muttered under her breath. "He, she, whoever, is probably less lost than we are. I'm asking him for help."

"I don't know," Honey teased, closing her eyes and leaning back against the tree. "You're a guy. I don't think you're allowed to ask for directions."

"Fine! You do it," Trixie retorted. She crossed her arms over her chest and closed her eyes, relaxing against the tree trunk.

"You just want to close your eyes for a few minutes," Honey accused, but her lips twitched in a smile.

"Maybe," Trixie admitted. "Maybe not. All I know is, someone better find the singer before he takes off on us."

Honey sprang to her feet, thoroughly motivated. "I don't want to spend the night sleeping under the stars," she admitted. "One little snake sharing my sleeping bag goes a long way."

Even Trixie shivered as she remembered the unpleasant wake-up call they'd received before Maypenny had offered a place for them to stay. "The snake was more afraid of you than you were of it," Trixie reminded her, but Honey only shook her head.

"Not possible."

Since she had no intention of letting Honey wander anywhere alone in the preserve and get herself even more lost, Trixie jumped up to follow her toward the sound they'd heard. After only a few feet, she stopped short.

"Oh!" Trixie gasped. She was face to face with her oldest brother.

Brian glanced at them, his expression wary. He would have walked right past them without speaking if Honey hadn't placed her hand on his arm. He glanced down at the slender, tapered fingers, and then up to her face, his expression neither welcoming nor censuring. Honey hastily removed her hand, flushing.

"We're lost," she blurted, abandoning her trademark tact.

Brian raised one dark eyebrow.

"But we can't be very lost," she rambled nervously. "I mean, we can't be very far from the path. We took a trail to find the raspberries, but then, somehow, we didn't find our way back. And we were probably walking in circles. I mean, we've seen that funny looking tree three times already! But if we've been walking in circles, we probably haven't wandered very far, right?"

Brian blinked, his attention flickering between the two strangers. "I don't know how far you are if I don't know where you're trying to go," he pointed out, his voice gruff.

"Oh! Of course!" Honey exclaimed. "We're staying at Maypenny's cabin."

Brian nodded. "You're right. You're not too far away. In fact, if you keep going on this path, you'll be there in about ten minutes," he said, pointing.

Honey closed her eyes in relief. "Oh, thank goodness!" she said. "I was worried we'd be out here until morning!"

At this, Brian smiled, but neither Trixie nor Honey were sure that it was a kind smile. He gave off an aura of aloofness, so that it was difficult to tell if he was laughing at or with them.

"Seriously," Honey continued, her eyes shining with gratitude. "You have no idea how relieved I am!" Impulsively, she took his arm again and directed a brilliant smile at him. Something in the young man's countenance seemed to change, and this time when he smiled, Honey felt an answering warmth that convinced her that he was sincere.

"Don't go just yet," he urged. "It won't hurt for you to spend a few minutes talking, will it?"

Honey raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were more the solitary type." When Brian looked confused, she added, "I saw you yesterday, sending Jim away because you didn't want company."

"I like my solitude," Brian admitted, brushing bck a lock of dark hair that had fallen across his eyes.

Because he still seemed to be in a good mood, Honey dared to tease, "And you sounded downright grumpy with him, too."

"There's nothing wrong with being honest about what you want," Brian said firmly. "Even if you happen to sound grumpy about it."

Honey stared at him, unable to reconcile his statement with her natural thoughtfulness and empathy for others.

Sensing her struggle, Brian merely shrugged. "I'm a student without a school, a doctor without patients, and a son without a family. If I act a little grumpy sometimes... well, I'm okay with that."

"You haven't had an easy life," Honey observed.

"Few have. And while I can't like my present situation, I am glad for many of the experiences I've had," he said, his tone strangely formal, as if he were writing a paper instead of talking to someone only a few years younger than himself.

Trixie snorted. "I think I'll stick with keeping my sense of humour and leave the life experiences to you. I've had enough of my own, thank you very much."

Before Brian could reply, they were greeted by a familiar voice.

"Trixie!" Jim exclaimed as he strode into the clearing, following Trixie's earlier instruction to address him by the name of the girl he claimed to love.

She sighed, half irritated, half in awe at his easy, confident demeanour. There was no way Jim Frayne was lost in the preserve.

Brian blinked at the use of his sister's name. "Who are you talking to?" he demanded, frowning. "There's no Trixie here."

She laughed nervously, her gaze darting to Honey in a silent, desperate appeal for help. Honey, though, gazed at Brian as if in a trance and didn't even notice her friend's distress.

"I'm sure we'll be fine now," Trixie said. "Jim will show us the way back to Maypenny's. No need for you to stay."

Brian nodded briefly, his gaze lingering on Honey, before pivoting and marching out of the clearing.

"But you!" Trixie accused, pointing a finger at Jim. "You're late! We waited an hour for you in the clearing!" With a huff of disgust, she crossed her arms over her chest. "You're not doing a very good job of convincing me that you're in love."

"It was only an hour!" Jim protested. "And—"

"Only an hour!" Trixie hooted, throwing up her hands as she interrupted him. "Only an hour! To a person in love, each minute is like an hour when they're waiting."

"I'm sorry." Jim's apology seemed sincere, his expression contrite.

Unwilling to accept the apology that had come so easily, she shook her head. "If you're going to be late, you may as well not come at all. I'd rather spend time with the copperheads that the preserve seems to be full of," she asserted, her hurt over his seemingly casual attitude overriding her common sense.

"You'd rather spend time with poisonous snakes?" Jim repeated in disbelief.

"Yes. With the copperheads," she repeated. "At least you know where you stand with them!"

"In mortal peril!" Jim exclaimed. "Don't you know anything about snakes?"

"Of course I know something about snakes," she said, rolling her eyes. "I know that if you leave a copperhead alone, he'll generally leave you alone."

"Generally," he agreed reluctantly.

"And if you poke it, you're looking for trouble," she admitted. "But if you're lucky, it turns out to be a brown snake, which are surprisingly friendly."

Jim paused, his head cocked to one side. "Are we still talking about snakes?"

Her good humour restored, Trixie grinned. "Maybe. But we're here for you to practice getting your girl, not to discuss wildlife. Get to it!" she demanded, gesturing imperiously for him to begin. "What would you say to this Trixie of yours?" she prompted when he still didn't speak.

"I wouldn't say anything," he decided.

She raised an eyebrow and waited for him to continue.

"I'd kiss her," he declared.

Trixie nearly swallowed her tongue. "You'd kiss her?" she squeaked, and then cleared her throat and tried to take it down to the level of a boy just approaching puberty. "You can't just kiss her!" she protested.

"Why not?" Jim questioned. Though his tone was light, Trixie was almost certain that he wasn't teasing. "I've already proven that I'm not great with words. You can't misinterpret a kiss," he explained.

"Still," Trixie said, "I really think you're better off talking to her first. Then, if you're lucky, you'll get to kiss her."

"Ah, but what if she doesn't let me?" he asked.

She smiled to herself. "Then you have to start over again. Work a little harder."

Jim grinned, the idea of a challenge obviously appealing to him.

"So, I'm this Trixie of yours, right?" she pressed, her eyes sparkling with fun as she furthered the game. Whether or not she and Jim ever developed a relationship, she was determined to enjoy whatever time she had with him. And what could be better than his undivided attention while she taught him how to pursue, well, herself?

"Okay. Well, speaking as Trixie, as it stands so far, I'm not feeling a whole lot of interest in you," she said in a bald-faced lie. "If you're trying to get her to like you, you're going to have to up your game." At Jim's puppy dog expression, she bit her lip in an effort to keep from smiling.

"Well, speaking as Jim, you're killing me here."

"Not hardly," she said with a snort. "I highly doubt that Trixie ignoring you is going to cause you any sort of physical harm. Now, maybe if she punches you in the kisser for kissing her..." she said, her voice trailing off as she winked at him mischievously. "That might hurt."

"Ouch!" he muttered. "It's a good thing you're not Trixie. If she rejected me so easily, it really might kill me."

"Please," Trixie scoffed. "A little rejection never killed anyone. But enough. I'll be Trixie, and this time I'll go easier on you," she offered. "Ask me anything," she prompted.

Jim's face brightened, and he didn't hesitate before saying, "Go out with me."

"Sure," she agreed glibly, and smirked at his confident and pleased grin. "I'll go out with you, and any other mysterious strangers I meet in the preserve."

He tilted his head to the side. "Wait," he said, his smile disappearing. "What?"

Hiding her own smile, she blinked innocently. "What? Why not? I mean, if I should just automatically agree to go out with you, shouldn't I automatically agree to go out with anyone who asks me?"

Jim's brow knit together even more tightly as he considered. "Now wait just a minute," he started, but Trixie was on a roll.

"No, no, this is perfect!" she said. "Maybe you could even introduce me to some of your friends!" she suggested, tongue firmly planted in her cheek.

"Now see here!" he exclaimed, towering over her, hands planted on his hips. "I am not introducing you to anyone!" He stopped abruptly and rubbed at his eyes. "Good grief. You'd think I believed you were Trixie! I actually felt jealous for a minute."

Trixie and Honey exchanged covert glances.

"Well, that's the idea, isn't it?" Honey asked, her tone mild.

"Yes, but..." Jim shook his head, as if the action could banish the surprising surge of emotion he'd felt.

"Back to the game," Trixie commanded, eager to press her advantage. "So, let's say that I agree to go out with you."

Jim's green eyes flickered with triumph and he edged closer to her.

"Uh, uh, uh!" Trixie warned, wagging her finger at him. "We haven't completed the negotiations."

"We were negotiating?" Jim asked, arching a ginger brow.

"Well, if you prefer to just accept my terms and introduce me to your friends..."

"No, no!" he said hastily. "We can negotiate."

"Good," Trixie said, her tone satisfied. "So, let's say that I agree to go out with you. What happens next? Do you stick to fond glances? Call me the next day? Ignore me for the next month?"

His jaw dropped. "Why would I ignore you? And I'd only limit myself to fond glances if I absolutely had to."

She pursed her lips. "Hmm..." She considered his statement. "That doesn't seem to be how it works, generally."

Honey nodded in agreement, her hazel eyes wide. "It's the thrill of the chase," she offered. "Most guys seem to lose interest once a girl actually agrees to go out with them."

"Then they're idiots," Jim said bluntly. "Or they just haven't met the right girl."

"And you think I'm the right girl?" Trixie bit her lip, almost scared to hear his answer.

"Yes," he said simply. "I do."

Her heart gave a little stutter before she could collect herself. Once the unexpected tingle of satisfaction had faded, she decided to continue her test. "But this Trixie of yours seems like a strong girl," she pointed out. "Opinionated. A risk-taker."

He shrugged. "So?"

"Jealous, too," Trixie continued. "I wouldn't let you so much as look at another girl. And if you pulled your chivalrous act with them..." Her voice trailed off. "Well, let's just say it wouldn't be pretty."

"You would," Jim said. "But would Trixie?"

She smiled, showing teeth. "If I say that's how I feel, you'd better believe that that's how Trixie feels. Trust me," she finished, as she nodded sharply.

"You're a smart girl," Jim said, his voice soft.

"I'd have to be to deal with you!" Trixie pointed out with a glare. "You want to just walk up to me and kiss me!" She shook her head. "A girl has to keep her wits about her with a guy like you around."

"I wouldn't be trying to take advantage of you!" Jim protested, his face flushing to match his hair.

Trixie raised an eyebrow.

"Well," he said, flushing even more. "Maybe a little. But we were just talking about a kiss!"

"You're talking about the opportunity to kiss the girl of your dreams, and you say it's 'just a kiss'?" she asked, outraged.

"No! That's not what I—"

"Keep that up," Trixie interrupted, "and you won't even come close to getting a kiss from me. Honestly! Men!" she exclaimed, throwing up her hands in disgust.

"I'm confused," Jim said. "I thought—"

"You thought?" she questioned, her voice rising to a near screech. "You thought? You didn't think! Your entire thought process consisted of finding a way to avoid talking to me, and just kiss me instead!" Her accusation hung in the air between them, creating a tension so palpable that Honey found herself inching backward, though her eyes remained glued to the action.

"Are you saying you wouldn't want to kiss me?" Jim asked, his voice low and just a little sultry.

Trixie's diatribe fizzled out as quickly as it had started. She'd been able to stop herself from imagining what it would be like for Jim Frayne to walk up to her, take her face in his hands, and claim the exact relationship he professed to want. She'd avoided thinking about his strong jaw, piercing eyes, and delectable freckles. She hadn't fixated on his large, strong, calloused hands. She'd avoided taking the measure of his broad shoulders and sculpted biceps.

At least, mostly.

Jim's question, however, brought all of his more-than-pleasing attributes coming to the forefront of her mind, led by images of his mouth drifting closer to hers.

She licked her lips nervously, trying desperately to focus on anything other than his lips. When she finally managed to drag her gaze up to focus on his eyes, she expected to find a self-satisfied smirk. Instead, his green eyes were dark with intensity. When he became aware of her attention, he slumped, passing a hand over his eyes, and then through his hair, which was longer than usual, she noted absently. He'd been on the run for only a few days, and already he needed a haircut. This simple fact seemed to make him more vulnerable, and more human, all at once. The desire to protect and help him, that had been just under the surface ever since she met him. flared. She had to resist the urge to sweep the hair out of his eyes.

"I should go," Jim said, his voice slow and thick.

Trixie nodded, still ensnared in the delicious haze of her own making.

"But I'll be back," he promised, without making any real effort to take his leave.

"You will?" She asked the question, and then gave her head a shake. She took a small step back, trying to escape the heady intoxication of being near him. "Of course you will. You have a lot more to learn," she teased, her tone both gentle and pointed.

He took the ribbing in good humour, smiling as he, too, took a step backward. "Two hours," he promised. "I'll be back in two hours. I promised Mr. Belden that I'd be back for dinner."

Instead of leaving, he went on to describe the hunter's stew they'd made, but Trixie couldn't focus on his words after the mention of her father. Her pulse raced, and she felt her hated, tell-tale blush creeping up her neck and toward her face. So close. She was so close to her father! But it wasn't safe. She, Honey, and Mart had discussed the situation at length, concluding that it was best for everyone if they kept their distance. Matthew Wheeler was a powerful man with many connections, and it was entirely possible that he was aware of Peter Belden's whereabouts. If the wealthy man had an informant  keeping tabs on the former banker, the snitch would undoubtedly report Honey's presence to him as well, and the young heiress would be forced back to the Manor House to face her father's ire. None of the three were eager for that particular outcome. And so, Trixie kept silent, knowing that the man to whom she felt curiously attracted was on his way to spend time with the only other person who could compete for her attention.

"Two hours," he repeated, drawing Trixie back to the conversation.

"And if you're late?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "What then? Would you expect Trixie to wait for you?"

"I won't be late," he asserted.

"You say that now. I wonder if your words will be any different two hours from now?" She couldn't resist pushing him, even knowing that she was pulling the tiger's tail.

Sure enough, Jim's countenance flushed. "I said I'd be here, and I always keep my word." A muscle in his jaw ticked, and she knew she'd hit a nerve. Still, she didn't back down.

"If you're late, I'm going to have to assume it's a character flaw," she warned him. "And that you're not really committed to Trixie."

"I'll see you," Jim said through gritted teeth, "in two hours."

"I guess we'll find out," she said with a shrug, "in two hours."

With a quick nod that encompassed both girls, Jim left the clearing. Once the sound of his footsteps faded away completely, Honey rounded on her best friend, giving her arm a solid thwack to pull her attention from the deserted path.

"I can't believe you!" Honey exclaimed, shaking her head. "You're playing a dangerous game."

Trixie's gaze flickered back to the path. "I know. But I can't stop now."

"Why not?" Honey demanded.

"Well, I can't very well tell him who I am," she retorted. "Then my dad would know, and that might put him in danger. Or you in danger. That's not going to happen."

"Then why not just leave him alone?" Honey's hazel eyes were wide with sincerity. "If he's upsetting you, you don't have to meet him, you know."

"But I do!" she groaned, dropping to the thickly carpeted forest floor. "I do! I can't not, Honey," she admitted, her tone begging her friend to understand.

"Yes," Honey said slowly. "I can see that." With a knowing smile, she checked her watch. "Two hours. Plenty of time to go back to Maypenny's cabin and have lunch."

"You go on," Trixie said, waving her hand vaguely. "I'm going to wait here."

"Whatever for?" Honey exclaimed.

"I'm going to figure out a way to make this work," she said, her voice tight with determination. "I will see my dad again, and it won't just be as Ross. And I will find a way to make things work with Jim." She stopped. "Also without him thinking of me as Ross. I just have to figure out how."

Honey nodded, knowing that Trixie needed time and solitude to figure out a plan.

"But how will you get back?" Trixie asked, suddenly remembering that they'd been lost when they'd entered the clearing.

"Oh, that," Honey said, waving her hand dismissively. "I figured that out while you were pseudo-flirting with Jim. And he's not going to develop any issues from that, I'm sure," she muttered, and Trixie flushed, remembering the spark of attraction she'd felt for Jim, even while pretending to be a boy. Poor Jim!

"Anyway," Honey continued. "I know where we are." Pointing down the path, she said, "We just took the left fork when we should have taken the right. This path leads into the other. I don't think we're very far from Maypenny's cabin at all."

Trixie smacked her palm on her forehead. "Of course! I know exactly where we are now," she said, disgusted with her earlier lapse in directional sense.

"Still want to stay here?" Honey questioned. "I'm pretty sure you'll be able to find your way back in order to meet Jim."

"You'd think," Trixie mumbled. "I'm not taking any chances. And I will figure out a way to meet my dad as Trixie." She tugged at the cap covering her hair, disgruntled.

Honey threw her arms around her in an impulsive hug. "Of course you will," she assured her friend. "I've never doubted you for a minute."

Trixie couldn't help smiling as Honey disappeared down the path. Two hours should be plenty of time to figure a way out of the mess.

Several hours later…

"I can't believe it!" Trixie muttered under her breath, striding around the clearing and kicking at gone-to-seed dandelion heads. A cloud of white fluff rose briefly in the air, and then scattered. She stared after it, hands on hips. "Fickle. That's what he is! Fickle. Fickle, fickle, fickle!" She aimed her sneaker at another dandelion, but missed. Eyes narrowed, she glared at the flower that had the temerity to resist her tantrum.

"He's probably having an afternoon nap," Honey said mildly, ignoring her friend's petulant display.

Trixie threw her hands up in disgust, but before she could continue her tirade, Tad Webster strode into the clearing.

"Hey, Ross, Celia," he greeted them with an easy smile. "I'm glad I found you." Patting his pocket, he told them, "I'm playing delivery man today."

Honey's lips twitched. "The preserve version of Purolator?" she teased.

Tad grinned and handed an envelope to Trixie. "Close enough. I'm delivering this for Jane."

Trixie's eyes widened and she stared at the envelope with an expression of dread. "From Jane?" she questioned, surprise causing her voice to rise in a most un-manly manner. "Jane Morgan?"

Tad raised an eyebrow. "Do you know of any other Jane in the area?"

She shook her head wordlessly. Tad's easy expression faltered and he glanced down at the envelope and then back at her. "She was, uh, a little upset when she wrote it," he warned, colour further tinting his ruddy cheeks. "Just don't shoot the messenger," he pleaded.

Trixie tore open the envelope and pulled out two pieces of paper, filled with bold scrawl. She read through them quickly, her face growing redder and redder with each word. "Unbelievable!" she exclaimed. Pointing to various spots on the pages, she told the others, "She told me I was the ugliest man she'd ever seen!"

Honey stifled a smile, causing Trixie to glare at her. "She said I was rude! And arrogant! And that she'd rather die than date me!" She turned questioning eyes on her companions. "Did I accidentally ask her out when I wasn't paying attention?" she demanded. "Why on earth would she think that I want to go out with her? I'm not even interested in her!"

When Tad's face turned even redder, she crumpled the papers and strode toward him, her face like a thundercloud. "Did you help her with this?" Trixie demanded. "Tell her what to write?"

He held up both hands. "No! I was there, but she didn't tell me what she was writing. I'm just the messenger, I swear!"

"This has to have been written by someone other than Jane," Trixie decided. "I didn't think she would know most of these words, much less how to spell them. Are you sure you didn't help her?"

He shook his head. "I had nothing to do with it," he maintained.

Glancing back at the letter, she frowned. "I still say it was written by a guy. I mean, look at how messy it is! Most girls use hearts to dot their i's, especially if they're writing a love letter."

Honey flushed.

"Not that there's anything wrong with that," Trixie said, lips twitching. "I mean, most guys would like to get a letter like that, right?"

"I wouldn't know," Tad replied, scowling.

No, Trixie decided, not even a tomboy would write such a horrible letter. And she ought to know! "Do you want to hear it?" she asked.

"Why not?" Tad asked, shrugging one shoulder. "It might be a bit of a relief to hear her tie into someone else for a change," he admitted.

"This ought to be good," Honey said under her breath, and made herself as comfortable as she could against the unyielding tree at her back.

"'Who do you think you are?'" Trixie began. "'God's gift to women? You can't just go around playing with people's hearts!' Oh, please! As if!" She shook the paper angrily. "Just because I didn't go all misty-eyed at the sight of her... And really! Would a woman even admit that she was interested in a guy that obviously can't stand the sight of her?" She shook her head. "I'm telling you, Jane didn't write this."

"Love makes people do crazy things," Honey said, giving her a pointed look which Trixie studiously ignored.

"I barely even met her!" Trixie continued to rail. "Why on earth would she think she's in love with me?"

"Yes," Honey agreed, tongue firmly in cheek. "It's completely ridiculous for one person to be attracted to another unless they've known each other for years and know absolutely all there is to know about one another."

Trixie continued to ignore her.

"She kind of has a point," Tad agreed. "I mean, I knew from the moment I saw her that—"

"It's ridiculous!" she burst out. "And I can't believe that you're still interested in this—wait! That's it!" Eyes gleaming, she nodded sharply at Tad. "Will you take a message to Jane from me?"

Tad nodded warily. "I guess..."

Trixie's lips curled in a cunning smile. "Tell this Jane of yours that if she truly loves me, she'll give you a chance. I won't even consider her unless she does."

The young man's eyes bulged.

"Well?" Trixie demanded. "Will you do it or not?" Hearing the sound of approaching footsteps, she gave him a push toward the path. "Go on, now, hurry!" she said. "This is your chance!"

Tad sent her a bewildered look over his shoulder, but went on his way, barely vacating the copse in the woods before another man arrived to take his place. The new arrival was a gaunt, stoop-shouldered man who stopped short when he saw Trixie and Honey.

"I'm looking for Maypenny's cabin," he said, his voice gruff. "Do you know where it is?"

Trixie frowned, instantly wary of the man.

"Why do you want to know?" she asked suspiciously. The man looked familiar... Her eyes widened when she finally placed him. Jonesy! From Ten Acres! Was he looking for Jim? Had he been hired by Matthew Wheeler to find Honey?

"I'm looking for a young man and a young woman," he said, his eyes raking over them. "The boy's blond and a little effeminate, and the girl is a trifle darker, and pretty."

Trixie gritted her teeth.

"I'm carrying a message from Jim that I'm to deliver to them."

What to do?!?

It didn't help matters that she was sure that Jonesy knew he'd found the pair he sought.

"I think you're looking for Celia and me," she finally said, deciding to face this new challenge head on. After all, it wasn't as if Jonesy knew that Celia was really Honey Wheeler.

Jonesy's eyes tracked to "Celia" for a moment, causing Trixie a moment of panic, but he only grunted once in greeting. "Like I said. I have a message from Jim." He turned back to Trixie. "He apologizes for being late and wanted me to give you this." With slow, deliberate movements, he reached into an inside pocket of his jacket.

Trixie stiffened, terrified that the horrible man she'd always detested was about to pull a gun on her. She wouldn't put it past him, especially if he really had been hired by Matthew Wheeler to locate Honey...

What Jonesy handed her was worse.

"A bloody handkerchief?" she asked, utterly confused. "Why on earth—"

Jonesy grimaced. "I'll explain," he said, his voice gruff, his shoulders even more stooped. "And then you'll understand the handkerchief, and me, a little better."

"Please do," Honey said faintly, and Trixie remembered belatedly that her best friend did not fare well in the presence of blood. Still, she seemed to be holding up admirably, and Trixie was eager to hear Jonesy's story.

"Jim spent the morning with you, I believe," he began, directing himself to Trixie. She nodded, and motioned for him to continue. "And when he left you, he was somewhat upset."

She thought back to their parting words, and how she had doubted his faithfulness in either returning at the appointed time or maintaining his affections for "Trixie". "I suppose," she admitted guiltily.

"Then it might not surprise you that he wandered around instead of returning to that shack he's staying in. Turns out the boy wandered farther than he thought and came across someone he knew."

Trixie felt a frisson of terror. Was this an elaborate scheme? Had Jonesy murdered Jim and come for Honey? Jonesy, however, wasn't paying either her or Honey the least bit of attention. Instead, he nervously patted his breast pocket and leaned against a tree, as if his stooped shoulder was suddenly too heavy to support.

"He came across someone he knew," Jonesy repeated. "Someone he knew rather well, and didn't much care for." He took a deep breath and used a shaking hand to pull a packet of cigarettes from the pocket he'd patted only seconds earlier. Without so much as a by your leave, he lit up and took a deep draw.

"He almost turned around and walked back the way he had come," Jonesy finally continued. "Seeing as how the person he came across was asleep. But that was when he saw the snake, coiled and ready to strike his stepfather."

Trixie's eyes bulged, and Honey emitted a gasp of horror. "A snake? What kind?" she demanded, somehow knowing that the answer wouldn't be the common, harmless brown snake that she was hoping for.

"Copperhead," he said shortly, and took several long puffs of the cigarette. His hands were shaking only a little now, but Trixie's seemed to have taken up the slack as she considered the situation.

"A copperhead!" she gasped, the blood draining from her face. "What happened?" she asked. "What did Jim do? Did the snake bite you?"

"He started to walk away a second time," Jonesy said. "But he couldn't do it. Instead, he threw a stone at the snake to distract it."

"Did it work?" Honey asked, her voice faint.

"It did," he acknowledged. "It worked too well. The snake left me just as I woke up, and attacked Jim before he could get away." He gestured to the bloody handkerchief. "He used that as a tourniquet. Cut himself with his carving knife and sucked out the poison himself. And I am the stepfather."

"Is he okay?" Trixie asked, little spots appearing before her eyes. "Is he all right?" she asked, louder, when Jonesy failed to answer.

"He was fine when I left him," he finally said. "A young man came by. The oldest Belden child. Together, we got him back to that shack they're living in. The Belden boy said he'd live."

Trixie wobbled on her unsteady legs as both relief and worry coursed through her.

"Before he passed out, he gave me this carving and handkerchief," Jonesy said. "Said I had to get it to this young boy and tell him that he'd be here if he could. That nothing short of life-threatening injury would ever make him late for meeting his Trixie."

Clutching the handkerchief, Trixie sank to the ground as the world grew dim around her. She could no longer hope that Jonesy and Jim hadn't actually met up in the preserve—the carving was most definitely Jim's handiwork.

"Ross!" Honey exclaimed, forgetting her own queasy stomach and kneeling beside her friend. "Ross!"

"Not to worry," Jonesy said, looking ill himself. "Not everyone can stand the sight of blood, you know."

Honey frowned and chafed Trixie's wrists. "It's not the blood," she said in distraction.

"See? He's recovering already."

It was true. Trixie sat up, breathing shallowly, her face pale but with spots of bright red burning in both cheeks. "I wish I were at home," she muttered, burying her face in her hands. Suddenly, the preserve felt dark, unfriendly, and dangerous.

"We'll go back to the cabin," Honey said immediately. "Here. Help me get him up," she demanded, not caring that Jonesy had to struggle to find his own feet. The day's events had taken a toll on the man, Trixie thought, the idea registering even though she still felt slightly panicky, both from the thought of Jim's close call, and from the presence of Jonesy in the preserve.

Taking Trixie's elbow, Jonesy surveyed her narrowly. "First time I've had to help a man who fainted at the sight of blood." He shook his head. "You need to work on that. It's fine for a woman, I suppose, but you should know better."

Trixie gritted her teeth at the blatantly sexist remark. It was most certainly not the sight of blood that had unnerved her. It had been the sight of Jim's blood that had unnerved her. And the knowledge that he had been in mortal danger. And the knowledge that he still might be. She saw little black spots for the second time, but blinked rapidly and forced herself to throw off Jonesy's hand and keep walking. It wasn't the sight of blood, and it wasn't the fact that she was female. It was the fact that she was in love that had made her so momentarily weak.

"I'm fine," she said, stepping further away from Jonesy and closer to Honey.

"That's right," Jonesy said, nodding gruffly. "If you can't actually be much of a man, you can at least act like one. I should be heading back. Do you have a message I should pass along to Jim?"

"Just tell him," Trixie said, stopping to rest with her hand against a tree trunk, "tell him that if Trixie were to hear of his accident, she would most definitely have forgiven him for being late. And she might have also fainted," she finished, smiling wryly.

Jonesy nodded. "Passing on your message is the least I can do," he said. "The boy saved my life."