Christmas morning dawned clear, crisp, and cold. Trixie awakened gradually, a smile growing as she recognized the familiar music of a Christmas album. Almost immediately, she heard a groan, then a muffled exclamation from her brothers' bedroom.

“Bobby!” Brian thundered down the stairs, closely followed by Mart. “The Chipmunks? The Chipmunks?”

Trixie peered out her door, watching in amusement from the staircase as her younger brother's angelic face appeared in the living room doorway.

“What?” he asked innocently. “Would you prefer the Smurfs?”

A growl from Mart assured Bobby that his suggestion was not appreciated. Giggling, Trixie scrambled down the stairs to watch the excitement. Bobby was laughing hysterically as he tried to prevent Mart from reaching the old turn table. Trixie slapped a hand over her mouth to keep from giving Brian away as he calmly placed a CD in the player and turned the volume up loud enough to cover the high-pitched wailing of the rodents.

Comically, Bobby and Mart froze, locked in position as the melodious strains of the Carpenters Christmas Album over-powered them. Covering his ears, Bobby sank to the floor. “My ears! My ears! Why!?”

Dan joined Trixie in the living room, shaking his head as she collapsed against him, doubled over with laughter. The pandemonium continued as Mart recovered and tried to reach the turn table, only to find his father, who had slipped into the room unnoticed. Peter Belden deftly disengaged the needle, and then turned down the volume of the CD. He eyed each of his children sternly until Helen joined him and slipped her arms around him.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” she whispered against his ear, and before the younger generation realized what was happening, both Peter and Helen were singing along to the Carpenters with silly grins.

Jaw agape, Trixie froze in Dan's arms. “Are they...”

Dan studied the handsome dark-haired man and stunningly beautiful older version of Trixie; then nodded. “The sweetest couple I know? Yes.”

Shaking her head, Trixie led Dan and her brothers into the kitchen and set them to work. By the time Helen joined them, the hot chocolate and coffee were ready. As soon as each person had a warm drink, they gravitated to the living room. However, before they could begin opening gifts, they were interrupted by a knock at the back door. With a mysterious smile, Helen hastened to answer it.

“Welcome here!” she greeted the red-haired groom. “I'm glad you decided to come.”

“Well, I figured you were probably ready for some back-up. I know this crew.”

“Uncle Bill!” Dan exclaimed, hurrying to greet him. “You said you weren't coming!”

Regan shrugged and carefully removed his well-worn leather boots. “I decided to get up a little early and take care of the horses. It's not every year I get to spend Christmas with my nephew.”

Trixie squealed as she led Regan to the couch, ordering Bobby to make room for him. Beaming, she made sure he was comfortable before fetching another cup of coffee from the kitchen. Brian and Mart exchanged amused glances.

“Geez, you'd think she'd never seen him outside of the stables before,” Mart muttered.

Brian grinned. “Well, have you?”

Both brothers stopped joking and studied Regan, suddenly seeing him as a person instead of a groom. He still wore jeans and a plaid shirt, but both looked brand new. He sat beside his nephew, an arm casually draped over the backrest. Even though it was obvious Regan was uncomfortable intruding on the Belden's Christmas morning festivities, it was also clear that he was enjoying every moment spent with Dan. Brian and Mart forgot their earlier teasing, understanding why Trixie was so eager to encourage Dan and Regan to spend time together. From the expressions on their faces, time together was clearly a luxury for both men.

Peter Belden cleared his throat and stood beside the Christmas tree. A hush fell over the room as he opened the well-worn Bible.

“And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed. (And this taxing was first made when Cyrenius was governor of Syria.) And all went to be taxed, every one into his own city. And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem; (because he was of the house and lineage of David:) to be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child. And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered. And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn. And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night...”

Trixie sat on the floor in front of a couch, letting the familiar words wash over her and surround her with their timeless power. Leaning back against Brian's legs, she reached out a hand to rest on Bobby's leg. With her eyes closed, she listened to the conclusion of the reading.

“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be upon his shoulders and he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”

The room was still when Peter finished reading. He set the Bible on the mantle, then spoke quietly. “Helen and I are very grateful to have a full house for Christmas this year. Brian, Mart, Trixie, Bobby, you may be adults, but you will always be our children, and it is a privilege to spend this time with you. Dan...” he turned to the young man who looked intensely uncomfortable, “from the day you helped Trixie and saved Bobby from the catamount, you have been a member of our family, and you will always be welcome in this house. And Regan...” A sly grin crept over Peter's face. “Any man who got our teenagers out of the house for hours every week deserves a standing invitation to our home.” He winked. “Of course, it's a good thing you didn't move here earlier, or there might be a lot more Belden children to crowd into this house.”

“Peter!” Helen blushed, while her children squirmed.

“And on that note,” Peter smiled, “Let's start the celebrations!”

Happy confusion characterized the next hour as presents were exchanged. When the controlled chaos was over, Helen invited Trixie to help her fix the traditional Christmas morning greasy breakfast. When she agreed without the slightest hint of regret or coercion, Mart looked at her askance.

“What gives?” he questioned. “Since when do you like helping in the kitchen?”

Instead of replying, Trixie merely stuck out her tongue as she followed her mother out of the room.

Dan shook his head. “You'd be surprised what Trixie can do in the kitchen. In fact, she makes a killer Saturday brunch.”

Mart looked at him in amazement. “Really? And it's not charred a la Trixie?”

“No, Mart, it isn't.”

Recognizing the weary tone that indicated Dan wasn't in the mood to tolerate criticism of Trixie, Peter hid a smile and intervened.

“Let's see if we can't get this mess cleared away,” he suggested.

The men busied themselves placing wrapping paper, packaging, and ribbons in the garbage. As Brian held the garbage bag open for his father to dump an extra big load, they were surprised to be hit by a volley of wadded wrapping paper. They looked up to see Bobby's beaming, cherubic face. Recognizing a battle when he saw one, Regan quietly slipped into the kitchen to help Helen and Trixie. Peter and Brian glanced at each other, then grinned as they reached into the plastic garbage bag and withdrew their arsenal.

“Big mistake, Bobby,” Brian chortled. “Never attack the people sitting on the mother lode!”

Bobby ducked as Peter and Brian lobbed wadded up balls of wrapping paper in rapid succession. “Mart! Dan! Help a guy out!” he pleaded.

Mart and Dan exchanged a glance, then nodded to each other. “You hold him down, and I'll help the others,” Dan suggested.

Bobby's mouth dropped as Mart approached him and, instead of helping him, pinned Bobby's arms behind his back. “What? No! That's not what I meant!”

Dan took the garbage bag and calmly provided the others with ammunition.

“Dan! I thought you were my friend! What are you doing?”

As the commotion escalated, Helen appeared in the doorway. “What on earth?”

The men froze in position. Mart was half-sitting on Bobby to prevent his escape. Brian straightened and shamefacedly dusted his hands. Dan looked up guiltily, pausing as he fished for more wrapping paper in the garbage bag. It was Peter, however, who held Helen's attention. An embarrassed grin creeping over his face, Peter slowly lowered the arm poised in Bobby's direction.

“Peter!” she exclaimed. “What's going on here?”

Dropping the wrapping paper in the garbage bag, Peter replied, “We were just tidying up a little, right guys?” He looked pointedly at the others.

“Right!” they agreed. Dan and Brian began clearing up the debris around them while Mart pulled Bobby to his feet.

Helen raised her eyebrows. “I see.” She glanced around the room which was in much worse shape than she had left it.

Peter grinned and wrapped his arms around her. “We'll clean it up, honey. I promise. I have lots of willing helpers,” he added, winking.

Helen shook her head. “See that you do, Peter.”

Catching the twinkle in her eye, Peter asked suggestively, “Oh? And what will the punishment be if I don't?”

Helen turned away before he could see that she was struggling not to laugh. “None of that, mister. Breakfast will be ready in twenty minutes. I expect a clean living room by then.”

Peter sighed. “Yes, dear.”

As Helen returned to the kitchen, Peter glared at the others. “Nicely done, kids, nicely done. I'm in trouble already, and it's only,” he checked his watch, “ten in the morning.”

Bobby grinned and gave his dad a hug. “What? You usually make it to ten-thirty?”

Peter rolled his eyes and affectionately rubbed his youngest son's head. “Just get cleaning, smart mouth. I know who orchestrated this fiasco.”

Motivated by the delicious aroma of bacon and eggs, they quickly cleaned up the garbage. Glancing at the open presents, they decided to leave them until after breakfast when each person could put his or her own gifts away.

Some time later, Regan reluctantly pushed his chair back from the kitchen table. “Thank you, Helen, that was delicious. I need to get back to the horses, so I'll say goodbye now.” He headed for the back door, stopping to place a hand on Dan's shoulder as he passed behind him. “You be good, now, you hear? No more wrapping paper fights.”

“Yes, Uncle Bill,” Dan's eyes twinkled as he grinned at his uncle. “Are you sure you don't want some tea before you head out?”

Regan's smug expression disappeared. “Um, no, no, thank you,” he stammered, blushing.

Trixie's eyes twinkled. “Are you sure? 'Cause you know, Dan makes really good tea. Much better than the kind I've had at those fancy tea rooms.”

Regan's embarrassment was now mingled with curiosity. “Oh, he does, does he?”

Dan refused to be baited. “Why yes, yes I do. It's a delicate process. The tea needs to steep for just the right amount of time. One of these days I'll make some, and you can see if you prefer it.”

Regan shook his head and pulled on his boots before anyone could ask if he had anything to which he could compare the tea. “I'll see you later,” he called over his shoulder. “Try not to burn the house down!”

Helen watched as the groom strode out the door as if the flames were already licking at his heels. “What was that about?” she wondered aloud.

Trixie smirked as Dan kicked her under the table. “Nothing, Moms. We just like to tease him once in a while.”

Helen shook her head. “You kids! Now, we need to get cracking. Peter, Brian, you're on dish duty. Mart, Dan, you can put everyone's presents in their rooms. Trixie, Bobby, you may as well shower and get ready. I'm sure I'll have plenty for you to do when you're ready.”

As everyone set about their tasks, Trixie called back, “Don't worry, Mart. I'll be sure to save you plenty of hot water.” Snickering, she chased Bobby up the stairs and darted past him to reach the bathroom first. “Feel free to use the guest shower, Bobby,” she called before firmly shutting the door.

Bobby stared at the closed door. “Why exactly did I want her to come home for Christmas?”

Passing by the foot of the stairs, Mart and Dan chuckled as they headed to the living room to put away the gifts. Without speaking, they began sorting the presents. Eventually, Mart commented, “That was some breakfast, wasn't it?”

Dan nodded. “I can't even remember the last time I had three different meats at the same meal. And I love those biscuits. Trixie makes them, too, but I usually have to bribe her.”

Mart sighed. “It's still hard to picture Trixie being domestic.” He paused. “But it sounds like there's a lot about her I don't know.” He sorted a few more gifts before continuing. “About what Jim said last night...”

Dan turned away to hide his twitching lips.

“Do you think she and Jim...”

Dan raised an eyebrow. “Do I think they what?”

Mart's face was crimson, but he kept going. “Do you think they slept together?”

Dan sighed. “It's not like it's any of our business, you know.”

“I know, I just...”

Dan took pity on him. “We really haven't talked about it, but I don't think they got to that point in their relationship.”

Mart exhaled slowly before giving Dan a sheepish grin. “I know it's none of my business,” he repeated, “and I don't know why it's bothering me so much. I just feel like there's so much I don't know about her.” He picked up a stack of presents.

Dan gathered a pile of gifts and followed Mart. “Honestly, Mart, there may be a lot of details you don't know, but I really don't think she's changed very much. Like I told Brian last night, Trixie is still Trixie. And if she has changed, it's only been in good ways. She's stronger, smarter, more confident...” Dan broke off when Mart looked up in surprise. “All I'm saying is, you don't need to worry about what you don't know about her, or how she's changed. She's still Trixie, just grown up.”

Mart nodded. He recognized the truth in Dan's assurances, but was troubled by the tone of his friend's voice. Instead of speaking aloud, Mart merely echoed in his mind the statement he had made to Jim the previous evening. Geez, Dan, if I didn't know better, I'd think you had feelings for her.

Mid afternoon of Christmas Day found the Bob Whites, their parents, and their siblings congregating at the Manor House. Trixie grumbled as they waited for the classic double-doored entrance to open.

“I still don't see why we have to dress formally. Wouldn't it be simpler if we just wore normal clothes and walked here?” She smiled and waved at Tom as he drove into the garage.

“Of course it would be simpler,” Brian agreed, “but then you wouldn't have the pleasure of seeing your handsome brothers decked out in their finest.”

Trixie giggled as Bobby puffed out his chest and stood his tallest.

“That's right, Trix. Aren't girls supposed to like it when guys put on their penguin costumes?”

“Bobby,darling, you're wearing a suit, not a tuxedo,” Helen informed her youngest son. “And I, for one, think you all look lovely.” Her eyes rested on Trixie, who, despite her protestations, had spent considerable time and effort on her appearance. As a result, she looked particularly attractive and sophisticated.

The door opened, revealing a handsome young man in a beautifully tailored suit and jaunty Christmas hat.

“Merry Christmas!” Jim called, a broad smile on his face. He ushered them into the spacious foyer, keeping up a lively banter and shaking hands enthusiastically. Words failed him, however, as he approached Trixie to help her with her coat. He stood behind her and helped her remove it, holding the heavy wool awkwardly as she turned to face him.

“Thank you,” she murmured, unsure of what his response would be.

Jim swallowed audibly, distracted by the brilliant blue eyes and carefully arranged cascade of blonde curls. Clearing his throat, he managed, “Merry Christmas, Trixie.”

Instead of the customary kiss on the cheek, Jim extended his arm to Trixie and handed her coat to Celia, who had materialized beside him. “Shall we?” he asked.

Nodding, she allowed him to escort her to the living room.

Just ahead of them, Bobby turned to tease, “It's a good thing I brought my camera! Don't you think a picture of James W. Frayne the II in a Christmas hat would make a great inter-office memo?”

Trixie interjected before Jim could respond. “Yes, it probably would. And I'm thinking another memo, maybe one of Mr. Frayne's new young protégé wearing a certain sweater would be even better. Oh, you didn't know?” she questioned sweetly. “I believe Dan managed to take a few pictures with his own digital camera this morning. And I'm equally sure that he's already uploaded them to his computer. Haven't you, Dan?”

Dan grinned as Bobby's self-satisfied smirk disappeared. “Why, yes, I believe I have,” he confirmed.

Bobby sighed. “There's just no winning with you guys.” He hurried ahead as he caught sight of the Lynch twins, eager to leave behind all thought of his sweater.

Jim and Trixie allowed the others to enter the room before them. Stopping her just before the door, Jim asked, “Friends?”

She nodded, sapphire eyes locking with emerald. “Friends,” she agreed, relieved that they were at least on speaking terms ... maybe more.

After an interval during which the guests were served appetizers, drinks, and a lavish dinner, Matthew Wheeler called his guests back to the living room. He calmly waited while Larry and Terry Lynch jockeyed for position in the limited seating, laughing as they were ousted by their sisters. When everyone had found a seat, he motioned for his wife to join him.

“Madeleine and I would like to thank you all for coming.” He paused as the guests interrupted to thank him and praise the delicious gourmet meal. “But the evening isn't over.”

Trixie watched with curiosity while Matthew smiled mysteriously and withdrew two envelopes.

“Peter and Helen, Ed and Elaine ... This year, Madeleine and I decided to do something different. I know we normally have our adult New Year's Eve party while the kids have theirs.” He smiled as the younger generation rolled their eyes at being deemed kids. “And we will still have that party. We are, however, changing the location.”

Helen glanced at the Lynches, but their faces betrayed nothing.

Madeleine's soft laugh was musical. “Get to the point, dear,” she suggested.

Hoping his gift would be received in the spirit he intended, Matthew handed the envelopes to Elaine and Helen.

Helen gasped as she withdrew the contents. “Tickets? For a cruise? Matthew, what is this?”

Matthew shrugged. “Tickets for a cruise, Helen,” he joked, eyes twinkling.

Peter looked at the tickets doubtfully. “I don't know, Matthew. I don't see how--”

Matthew Wheeler, President of Wheeler International stepped in. “You don't see how what? I've been promising my wife a cruise for years. She insisted that our best friends come along. It didn't take long to convince me.” He paused and laid a hand on Peter's shoulder. “And if it's the money...”

Peter shook his head. “Well, yes, there is that, but I was thinking more of the kids.” He smiled at his children. “We haven't had all of our kids home together in a long time. I know Helen wants to spend more time with them, and frankly, so do I.”

Matthew nodded. “I understand. But,” he paused and looked at Ed Lynch, who had remained silent during the exchange, “would you change your mind if your kids were occupied?”

Helen frowned. “What are you talking about? Elaine, what do you know about this?”

Elaine smiled. “Well, traditionally, Ed and I host the New Year's Eve party, right?”

Helen nodded.

“Since we won't be around on December 31, we thought we'd better have some activities lined up for the youngsters. You know, to keep them out of trouble.” She winked as her husband delivered seven envelopes to the Bob Whites, and five to Bobby, Larry, Terry, Amanda, and Jennifer.

Ever curious, Trixie opened hers first. “Pine Point? What's this?”

Jim recognized the name instantly. “Is this the resort you're thinking of buying, Dad?”

Matthew smiled at his right hand man. “Yes, son, it is. I thought the Bob-Whites could go down and check it out. Kind of like you did for Mead's Mountain.”

Mart looked at Ed Lynch curiously. “Then why are the tickets from you?” He cringed as he realized how rude he sounded, but Ed just laughed.

“Because Matthew and I are going to be partners on this one, if we decide to do it. With Pete Kimball again, of course.”

Brian nodded. “But sir, these reservations are for...” he paused to make sure he got the dates right, “the day after tomorrow. And the room is booked for a week?” He looked at the other Bob Whites. “Can we do this? Does it work for everyone?”

Diana shrugged. “I make my own hours, so it's fine for me.”

Mart agreed. “I have a three week break, just like my students, so I'm good to go.”

Nodding slowly, Honey said, “I think I can make it work. I haven't used any of my personal days.”

Jim grinned. “I think if I ask my boss nicely, he might give me some time off.”

Matthew smiled back. “As much as you want. It's about time you took a vacation,” he said, giving his son a significant look.

Brian sighed. “I'd love to come, really, I would, but it was like pulling teeth just to get a few days at Christmas. I have no idea how I could manage another week.”

“What would you say if I told you I talked to the other doctors in your program? The other interns have agreed to cover your shifts.”

Brian raised his eyebrows. “Are you serious?”

Matthew nodded slowly, hoping he hadn't meddled too far in the life of the man he hoped would become his son-in-law.

“They agreed to take my shifts. For an entire week.” Brian needed clarification.

Matthew nodded again.

“Seriously. The doctors in my department agreed to this?” He wanted to believe Mr. Wheeler, but it was a stretch. A really big stretch. He frowned. “You didn't have to break anyone's leg, did you?” he asked, joking.

Mr. Wheeler laughed. “No broken limbs, Brian. I did have to make a bit of a devil's bargain, though.”

Brian winced. “Let me guess. I'm working every holiday from now until forever.”

“You don't have to work any extra shifts,” he assured him.

“Then what?” Brian asked, unable to come up with anything worse than perpetual holiday shifts.

“I may have sort of promised that you would, um, wear something special your first shift back.” Matthew had the grace to look abashed.

Brian's eyes widened. “How special?”

“How about three-inch heel special?”

Unable to keep quiet one second longer, Trixie burst into laughter. “Heels? Brian has to work in high heels?”

Brian buried his head in his hands.

“I did my best,” Mr. Wheeler said, clapping Brian on the back, “but those doctor friends of yours are tough negotiators.”

Shaking his head, Brian managed to laugh. “This will make for a really good story. Some day.”

Trixie snickered. “I think it makes for a pretty good story right now.”

Brian glared at her. “I don't see you giving up anything to go on this trip.”

Trixie looked down at the itinerary in her hands. “It's awfully tempting, Mr. Wheeler, but I'm not sure we'll be able to go.”

Matthew nodded. “Ed and I planned this trip before we knew you were coming home for Christmas. I did make a call to Korecks, but I had a hard time convincing your boss that you needed an extra week off. I'm sorry,” he said simply.

The rest of the Bob-Whites were suddenly quiet.

Dan sought Trixie's eyes before replying, “Our situation at work has changed a little in the last week or two. I'll give our boss a call and see if we can't work something out.”

Trixie nodded thoughtfully. “It might work,” she agreed. Turning to her mother, she said, “And even if doesn't, you and Daddy should go on that cruise. No, I'm serious,” she continued as Helen shook her head. “I will make sure I'm able to come home more often from now on. Cruises like this don't come around every day,” she finished.

“Neither do you,” Helen countered.

“Now, Helen,” Peter put an arm around his wife. “If someone wants to take us on a cruise to,” he checked the itinerary, “Mexico, I say we let them. Trixie will be back. And if she isn't, we'll threaten to move to Virginia.” He smiled as Helen giggled. “I'm willing to bet she'll be coming back soon, right Trixie?”

She nodded emphatically. “I'll do my best,” she promised.

“Well...” Helen was weakening. “I have always wanted to go to Mexico.” She looked down at the tickets in her hands. Shaking her head, she turned to Matthew and Madeleine. “You've really gone too far this time, but are we ever going to have a good time!”

Madeleine smiled and hugged her two closest friends. “That's the plan, ladies!”

Finally, Terry, who had been remarkably patient, asked, “Can we open our envelopes now?”

Ed laughed. “Please do. I hope you like it.”

“Mead's Mountain! Wow! Isn't that where you found that cool artist, Trixie?”

“We all found Carl, but yes. Is that where you're going?”

“Yup!” Bobby was grinning from ear to ear. “This is great! Skiing, tobogganing, this place has everything!”

“That's what Miss Trask and Harrison said when they agreed to accompany you,” Ed informed them.

“What? Why are you sending chaperons with us?” Larry asked suspiciously.

“Well, normally we wouldn't, but with all of us on the cruise, we decided that a little adult involvement would be a good thing. And they won't be staying in the room with you. You'll have all the independence you want. They're just along in case something comes up.”

“Dad's right,” Diana affirmed. “Neither Harrison nor Miss Trask will get in your way.”

Bobby snorted. “It's not like they ever prevented the Bob-Whites from doing anything!”

The Bob-Whites exchanged guilty glances.

Matthew eyed the young people sternly. “Then it's a good thing we've all learned from those experiences. Right?”

Jennie shuddered. “Well, I have no desire to track down thieves or get kidnapped. I'm just looking forward to some skiing!”

The rest of the group voiced wholehearted agreement and began talking amongst themselves. Almost immediately, Jim approached Trixie.

“Do you think we could have that talk now?” he asked softly.

Trixie looked around the crowded room. “I hardly think--” she began, but Jim took her elbow and steered her toward the door.

“Follow me.”

Trixie tried to tell herself that the curious tingling she felt was caused by Jim's mysterious tone, and not the intense look in his eyes, or the promise of what might be. It was with surprise that she found herself at a side door of the house.

“Showing me the door already, Jim?” she inquired.

Jim ushered her through the door and into the enclosed veranda. As he casually settled himself in the swing, Trixie remained standing and gazed into the night. The lights from the house illuminated the immediate lawn, but couldn't begin to touch the expanse of trees that bordered it. She took a deep breath of the night air, then wrapped her arms around herself.

“Brisk,” she commented.

Jim patted the seat beside him. “The swing seats two,” he offered.

“Barely,” Trixie remarked, lifting her eyebrow at the lanky form that occupied three quarters of the available room. She recognized a challenge when she heard one, however. Dropping down lightly, Trixie positioned herself, being careful not to sink back against the arm that rested against the back of the seat.

They sat silently, both reluctant to begin a potentially volatile conversation. Trixie alternated between staring out into the darkness and down at her hands. She was conscious that Jim was watching her, but she was unaware of exactly what he saw.

Jim took his time studying her. Her dress was deceptively innocent with long sleeves and a generous skirt. Without revealing too much skin, the bodice was form-fitting and flattering. Drawing his eyes away before he became too distracted, Jim cleared his throat.

“I think this year wins for the most memorable Christmas Eve party in recent history,” he began, striving to sound casual.

Still looking into the darkness, Trixie nodded, unsure of where Jim was headed.

Frustrated by her lack of response, Jim sat up with a jerk. “Trixie, I don't know what to say.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Last night really threw me for a loop.”

When she still didn't respond, Jim gently touched her chin, drawing it up so she would look him in the eye. “I'm sorry for my reaction last night. It wasn't exactly my finest moment.”

Despite his obvious willingness to be friendly, Trixie hadn't anticipated an apology. “You don't have to apologize. Last night wasn't easy for anybody.” She paused and raised her own hand to touch the one that still rested on her chin. “I always knew it would be difficult if people found out. Especially you.”

“It was a bit of a kick to the stomach,” he admitted, grasping her hand in his larger one. “And I was pretty angry last night. But this morning, when I woke up, I wasn't upset anymore. I can't explain it, Trixie. I just know that whatever you do, whatever you've become, we still have a connection. I meant what I said earlier. I want us to be friends.”

“Friends,” Trixie repeated slowly.

“Friends,” Jim reiterated, releasing her hand to stroke her cheek.

Mesmerized by his tender touch, Trixie failed to notice that she had slipped back against the arm on the backrest. As he gripped her shoulder firmly, she only knew that she was no longer cold or uncomfortable. Unaware that she was staring, she kept her eyes fixed on the lips speaking the very welcome words. She watched in fascination as they slowly drifted closer, feeling strangely detached, yet very alive. Just as his lips brushed hers, the door opened loudly.

“Trix? Are you out here? We're heading back soon, and--” Bobby stopped short as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

His eyes never leaving Trixie, Jim threatened, “Bobby, you're fired.”

Familiar with his boss' moods, Bobby merely rolled his eyes. “Yes, it was my plan to walk in on my boss and my sister...” Bobby stopped, remembering the tension of the previous evening. Risking a second dose of Jim's temper, he asked, “Trixie, is everything okay?”

Suddenly released from the spell, Trixie stood. “Everything is fine, Bobby. I'll be ready in a minute.”

Bobby nodded and backed out the door, watching the couple with interest.

When the door was firmly closed behind her brother, Trixie looked back at Jim. “I should be going.”

“You could stay,” Jim pleaded, “at least for a few more minutes.”

Trixie shook her head. “It's late, and everyone is heading home.”

Jim rose and placed an arm around her, his fingers brushing her arm. “Then we'll just have to finish this conversation tomorrow.” He spoke confidently, but Trixie could hear the insecurity behind his words.

“I'd like that.” Blushing, Trixie placed a quick kiss on Jim's cheek. As she turned to leave, Jim stopped her and brought her back, holding her close.

“Not so fast,” he murmured, and lowered his lips to hers swiftly. For a brief moment there was no sound, no place, no time. There was only the meeting of two souls.

“Are you out here, Trixie?” The door creaked a second time as Mart entered the veranda. “Everyone's saying goodbye--” Mart's eyes widened as Trixie and Jim jerked apart, blushing.

“Mart, you're fired.”

“Wrong Belden, Jim. I don't work for you.”

“Technicality,” Jim muttered under his breath.

Laughter bubbling at their antics, Trixie patted Jim's arm. “It's okay, Jim. We'll finish this conversation tomorrow.”

He nodded briefly. “It's a date.”

“If you guys are done, we really should get going, Trix.”

Trixie nodded and slipped back into the house, happier than she had been in a very long time.