Prologue

 

We fear things in proportion to our ignorance of them. ~ Christian Nestell Bovee

 

 

“You need to get rid of him,” the imposing man who called the meeting declared, daring his two employees to question his decision.

 

“I don’t think he’ll hurt the girls,” the younger red-haired man said, his temper lighting at his boss’ demands. He identified with the young man – could see shades of himself in the way he handled himself around horses and around the two girls.

“If you don’t think you can do it, I can certainly find someone who can get rid of him without you.”

 

As their tempers clashed, it was time for the cooler voice of reason to join the conversation. “Why don’t you offer him a bit of cash?” she suggested, running her fingers through her crisp grey hair. “He’s just a runaway with no ties to the area. I’m sure a few thousand dollars would…shall we say encourage, him to be on his way.”

 

The older man nodded before opening his wall safe. He pulled out a few stacks of bills and handed them to his groom. “There’s fifty grand. Make this problem go away.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

“Without mysteries, life would be very dull indeed. What would be left to strive for if everything were known?” ~ Charles de Lint

 

 

Twenty-five year old Trixie Belden squinted at the names in her appointment book. Her brother Bob’s scrawl was illegible, she finally decided. She pushed aside a few fashion magazines her best friend Honey Wheeler had left behind after her last visit to the office.

 

“Belden Bail Blondes,” her brother Bob answered the phones. As the youngest member of the Belden family, he often found himself relegated to office duties. “Sure,” he said into the phone. “She’s right here.” He put the phone on hold and Trixie rolled her eyes at his unprofessionalism. A few more large dollar recoveries and they would be able to invest in a secretary. “Hey, Trix, it’s your one o’clock on the line.”

 

Trixie picked up the extension at her desk. “Belden Bail Blondes, Trixie speaking. How can we help?”

 

“Trixie!” The female voice rose with emotion. “This is Diana Lynch – we have an appointment today in your office but I was hoping maybe we could talk in my apartment, instead? Oh, please tell me you remember me,” she pleaded.

 

Trixie’s mind sorted and organized the lists of people she knew before putting the image of Di Lynch to her name. “Di! Omigoodness, I haven’t seen you since 8th grade! You transferred out to private school, didn’t you? You’re not in trouble, are you? You said apartment. Did you need to arrange someone’s bail?”

 

“Yes,” Diana said, “Well, no. Actually, Trixie – it’s kind of complicated but I really needed some advice and I’d like to talk to you.” There was silence on the line. “Obviously, I’ll pay for your services,” she said.

 

“You said your apartment – where are you living?” Trixie asked, picking up a legal pad and pen.

 

“I bought the building where I lived as a child. Do you remember? On Main Street.”

 

“Of course!” Trixie said. She glanced at her cell phone. “I can be there in fifteen minutes.”

 

“Perfect,” Diana said.

 

Trixie frowned as she hung up the phone. How mysterious!

 

“What’s up, Trix?” her brother Mart said as he walked in the door. At just 11 months her senior, they has grown up often mistaken for twins. Dressed in all black leather with his TASER M18L holstered at his waist, Mart looked the part of a take no excuses skip tracer.

 

“You remember Di Lynch?” Trixie asked, packing up her briefcase for their meeting.

 

The hardness around Mart’s face softened imperceptibly. “Yeah,” he said, grinning at his sister. “I had such a crush on her when we were kids.”

 

Trixie wrinkled her nose at him. “Ew! She was my best friend, Mart! That’s gross!”

 

“She was pretty!” Mart said, going to the small office refrigerator and grabbing the last soda. He turned to look at his “almost twin”.

 

“Well, it seems she has a case to discuss,” Trixie explained. “And if you’re going to drink the soda be prepared to replace it,” she said crossly. “I’ve had to run to Lytell’s twice this week and you know I’m like his least favorite person ever.”

 

Mart rolled his eyes and took a seat at the desk he shared with his cousin Cap.

 

“With good reason,” Bob commented.

 

“That’s enough out of you,” Trixie said. Turning back to Mart, she continued, “Cap doesn’t like it when you put your feet on the desk.”

 

Their cousin Cap was out on a backpacking expedition. “Cap isn’t here,” Mart scoffed. “Remind me why do I work with my family?”

 

“They were the only ones who would hire you,” Bob said from his spot at the front of the office. He ducked the stress ball Mart threw in his direction.

 

“Okay, I’ll be in Sleepyside for my meeting then I’ll call it an afternoon. Text me if I’m needed,” Trixie said, breezing out the front door and climbing into her silver Honda CRZ.

 

Mart closed his eyes and let memories of his fair Diana sprinkle into his thoughts. Those exquisite violet eyes had fascinated him as a child.  He grinned as he thought about how he’d asked her to his 8th grade dance and she’d blushed so prettily before saying yes. God, he’d been smitten with her.  

 

But then her nouveau riche parents had decided the quiet town of Sleepyside-on-Hudson was too drab for their lifestyle and sent her to a private boarding school in New Jersey somewhere while they schmoozed in New York City.

 

Mart looked up as the door opened and his friend Dan entered.

 

“Hey, Dan – what’s up?” Mart asked.

 

Dan held up a file. “Another one of my kids was arrested,” he said. “At this rate, I’m going to start asking for frequent flyer miles.”

 

Mart grinned and pulled up a fresh page on his computer. “Okay, let’s get this started so we can get the kid out of jail.” He reviewed Dan’s papers for name, address, and date of birth. “You know the drill. Does he have a twin? Does he smoke? If so, what brand cigarettes?”

 

“What did they catch him doing?” Bob asked, ignoring Mart’s comments about how he wasn’t paying attention to the business end of bail bonding.

 

Dan rolled his eyes. “Kid got himself messed up with a gang. It kills me when that happens. I warn them and warn them and still – it doesn’t ever seem to do any good!”

 

Mart shrugged and put a consoling hand on Dan’s shoulder. “You can’t save ‘em all, Dan. If you try, it’ll burn you out.”

 

“How’d you become a social worker anyway, Dan?” Bob asked, joining the other men at Mart’s desk. He still had a lot to learn about the family business and wanted to watch his brother set up a bond.

 

Dan’s coal black eyes flicked over the youngest Belden. Bob had been only 6 when Dan had moved into town – probably way too young to remember most of that first year.

 

“My dad was killed in action when I was little,” Dan said. “My mom died when I was a teenager. It took a while for the courts to track down Uncle Bill and let’s say I became a bit more intimately involved with the system than I should have.” Dan shrugged. “I was in a gang for a few months until they sent me out here.”

 

“He hated it for a long time,” Mart said, looking up from his screen.

 

“Trixie thought I was bad news for a while,” Dan admitted. “But eventually she succumbed to my Irish charm.”

 

Mart laughed. “Oh, please, Mangan – she’s always had her cap set on that great-nephew of Mr. Frayne’s. You never stood a chance.”

 

Dan conceded the point. “For a while I thought I’d want to be a cop, but they can only do things after crimes are committed. At least as a social worker, I try and convince myself I’m helping prevent crime.”

 

Mart looked sharply at his friend. “Getting burned out?”

 

Dan shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know. Some days are harder than others, I guess. And with three of the kids arrested in a row, this seems like a rough week.”

 

Dan turned his eyes back to Bob’s blue ones. “And you? At 18 have you decided if you want to go into the family business?”

 

“We’re the only ones who’ll hire him,” Mart said with a smirk, repeating Bob’s words back to him. 

 

 

“So tell me how I can help?” Trixie said to her childhood best friend after greetings were exchanged and tea was poured. They settled into pristine white overstuffed chairs with small purple pillows. The entire apartment was done in shades of white, purple, and a delicate mint green.

 

Diana absently played with the hem of her purple skirt. “My mother’s brother was arrested last week. Daddy wouldn’t put up the bail, so Mum went to a bail bondsman. Ten Acres Bail Bonds in the City.”

 

Trixie nodded. Professionally, she’d heard of Ten Acres. Whereas Belden Bail Bonds specialized in small bonds for shoplifting, traffic stops, and other misadventures and misdemeanors, Ten Acres specialized in high risk, high bail criminals. The higher the bail was set the higher the recovery fee and the higher chance of a skip.

 

Ten Acres Bail Bonds never lost a man.

 

The owner of TABB was a shadowy recluse that avoided recognition but was often sought after to assist other bail agencies recover their skips.

 

“Maybe this was a mistake,” Di said, standing up and walking towards the kitchen. Her agitation showed in the way her purple hued skirt swung around her legs. “Maybe you can’t help after all.” She pulled out a check book. “How much do I owe you?”

 

Trixie stood and put her hand on Di’s. “Why don’t you start at the beginning? Tell me about your uncle?”

 

Di nodded. “Do you have a while? It’s a bit of a tale.”

 

Trixie smiled. “You talk. I’ll take notes.”

 

“My maternal grandparents died when Mum was a child. Her brother was older and out on his own. Back then, I guess they didn’t try to locate him or maybe they couldn’t. Who knows? When my grandparents died, the welfare people put my mother in a foster home. She used her foster parents' last name until she married Dad. So, as far as my real uncle knew, she vanished while she was still a baby."

 

“Because of the name changes, she knew she would have to be the one to find him. Two years ago, Mum went looking for her brother online. She posted in Craig’s List in every major city. She joined Facebook and MySpace. She even began trolling through online dating sites trying to find someone who matched her brother Montague’s history.”

 

Trixie nodded and the two women settled once more in their seats. “Did your mom have any pictures of her brother?”

 

Di shook her head. “Most of those of things disappeared when Mum was adopted,” she explained. “I think she had a single black and white photo of the whole family and then snapshots of her parents.”

 

“There were tons of false alarms and fakes,” Diana continued. “Mum got discouraged but then a few months ago, she received a letter from an adoption lawyer.” Diana held up a few letters on heavy weight expensive looking letterhead. “From there, she met Montague Wilson.” Diana’s anxiety was revealed as she bit her lip. “He wants us to call him Uncle Monty,” she said with a derisive snort.

 

“You think he’s another fake?” Trixie asked after a moment of silence.

 

Diana nodded. “At first, it was little things. His story wasn’t adding up. He made up fantastic stories about helping to settle the Arizona desert and how he was one business deal away from making a fortune, just like Daddy. But when I said something to Mum, she got angry with me.”

 

“And your dad?” Trixie asked, thinking of Mr. Lynch with his large jolly laugh. Surely he’d been suspicious?

 

“At first, Daddy went along with Mum. But then Mum moved Monty in with us and Daddy got very angry – he even threatened to move out. Mum compromised by setting Monty up with an apartment nearby.”

 

Diana paused to sip her tea. “I was relieved when I heard he’d been arrested for fencing some pretty Ming Dynasty birds Mummy purchased on one of her trips. They’re very rare and she told me when she got them appraised they were worth a fortune! One of the appraisers worked for the Metropolitan Museum of Art and asked her if she’d donate them. I thought ‘Finally! Mum will realize he’s no good.’ And I was further relieved when Daddy refused to put up the money for his bail.  But then Mum went to this other bail bondsman and signed the New York apartment over as collateral!”

 

Trixie gasped. “Oh, Di. That’s not good!”

 

Diana looked miserable. “When I found out what she’d done, I was furious. And then last weekend she called me, crying. Her brother moved out of his apartment and she can’t find him!”

 

Trixie shuddered. That was exactly why she didn’t like the high risk cases. Sure, they brought in more money but the families that signed those bail bonds were often scared. Scared people did desperate things.

 

“When did you buy this building here in Sleepyside?” Trixie asked, changing the subject.

 

Diana smiled. “I always dreamt of moving back to Sleepyside,” Di confided. “I went to design school after high school, studied in Paris and even London for a bit and then started my own line of clothing. Maybe you’ve heard of it? Heliotrope Haute Couture? The line is known for having something in a shade of purple on every item.”

 

“Well, I never did get the hang of fashion,” Trixie said, indicating her well-worn Levi’s and company logo embossed T-shirt. “But even I’ve heard of Heliotrope Haute Couture.”

 

“So, as my business took off, I knew I needed a place to work. This building was perfect. I can live in the apartment and use the store front downstairs as my work shop and sewing room. After I sold my first collection to Dillard’s, I used the money and bought this place.” Diana composed herself momentarily. “I guess it’s been two years now since I bought the building, but I’ve only started living here the last few months.”

 

Trixie’s mind whirled as she thought. “Can I have copies of those letters?” she asked. “My friend, Honey Wheeler, is a lawyer and I can have her look them over, try to find out if these places are legit.”

 

“Then you’ll help?” Diana asked, her lavender eyes bright with hope.

 

Trixie nodded. “I’m not exactly sure I can help,” she said, trying to caution her friend. “I’ll set up an appointment with the owner of Ten Acres Bail Bonds and ask for help. The owner is known for never losing a skip but I don’t want to risk your parent’s apartment, either! Do you have any pictures of Montague?”

 

Diana nodded and pulled out her cellphone. “I have a snapshot I took of him and Mum. I can forward it to you.” With a few deft taps, the picture was sent and Trixie’s phone chirped as it received the picture.

“How – how much do I owe you?” Diana stumbled over the words and looked at her checkbook sitting on the counter.

 

Trixie’s heart went out to Diana. Was she that used to buying friends and loyalties? “I don’t need any money to do a favor for a friend,” Trixie said, stressing the word friend. “But how about a nice lunch when I finish my meeting with the owner of Ten Acres?”

 

Diana sized Trixie up. “That sounds wonderful.”

 

Trixie collected the letters and her notes and put them in her briefcase. “In the meantime, Brian is coming home this weekend for a visit.” When she saw Di’s look of confusion, she clarified, “He’s a doctor in the Navy and stationed down in Bethesda. He hasn’t been home in a while and so we’re all thrilled. Moms is having a big cookout – would you like to join us?”

 

“Sure, I’d love to,” Diana said with the first genuine smile of the afternoon. “I’ve missed your family so much!” Diana ran her hands up and down on the purple skirt she was wearing. “Wait. Will… will Mart be there?”

 

Trixie rolled her eyes. “Food and Mart are BFFs,” Trixie said with a laugh. “He’ll be there.”

 

Diana nodded. “Sounds good, Trix.” The two young women hugged briefly before Trixie left to do make a few phone calls before dinner.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

Trying to forget someone you loved is like
trying to remember someone you never knew ~ Unknown

 

“Did you get the fax I sent?” Trixie asked her best friend, Madeleine “Honey” Wheeler later that night. Trixie was curled up in her favorite chair, nursing a cup of hot tea and some cold take out.

 

Honey nodded, her gentle eyes serious as the two women Skyped. “I’ll call around tomorrow, make some inquiries.” She bit her lip, and Trixie smiled at her familiar habit.  “I’ve never heard of these offices but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. I don’t do family law, so there’s no reason I should have heard of them.”

 

“You okay, Honey?”

 

Honey shrugged. “I’m tired, Trix. Daddy keeps sending me – everywhere. I went to law school to make him happy. I went to work for Wheeler International to make him happy. And meanwhile…”

 

“You’re miserable,” Trixie guessed.

 

Honey bowed her head. “Not miserable,” she corrected. “I don’t know. Just not happy. And I’m so glad I’ll be home this weekend.” She shook her head as if to clear it of negative thoughts. “So what are you going to do next?”

 

Trixie nodded and took another sip of tea. “Bob called and set me up an appointment with the owner of Ten Acres tomorrow. I’d hate to see the Lynches lose their apartment and I’d certainly like to know more about this Monty character.”

 

“Ten Acres? Isn’t that the name of that huge estate that burned down the summer we were 13?”

 

Trixie frowned. “Yeah, it is. Weird coincidence. Hadn’t put that together in my mind. I wonder what it means.”

 

“Do you ever think about… about him?” Honey asked.

 

Trixie looked at the delicate art deco diamond ring on the middle finger of her right hand. “Every day,” she said quietly. “I was so frustrated when we couldn’t find him”

 

Honey nodded. “Me, too. It’s been 12 years now – can you believe it? I wonder if Mr. Rainsford ever found him.”

 

“I don’t know,” Trixie said. “A few years back, some backhoes came and razed the building and cleaned everything up. I thought I saw someone fixing up the old Summerhouse but I didn’t go and investigate.” She shrugged her shoulders, knowing Honey would understand. The memories still made her wonder ‘what if’. “I figured the probate on the estate had been resolved and there were new owners.”

 

Conversation waned as Trixie and Honey each became lost in their own memories of that long ago summer.

 

“Tell me about Diana Lynch?” Honey invited. “I only vaguely remember her from 8th grade.”

 

“Di and I met in kindergarten,” Trixie explained. “Moms and Mrs. Lynch always let us get together and play.” Trixie rolled her eyes. “And Mart would sometimes tag along. He told me today he had a major crush on her up until her family moved away.”

 

“Why did the Lynches move? I loved growing up in Sleepyside!”

 

Trixie frowned. “I don’t really know what happened. Mr. Lynch was seemingly rich overnight. Stock market, maybe? I don’t think he invented anything, but I could be wrong. I was pretty young then, too.

 

“They bought that mansion on the other side of Glen Road and lived there for a while. At first, I thought Diana changed and had become all stuck up. But after talking to her today, I get the feeling she became shyer and more introverted.

 

“Her parents had back to back set of twins and then the whole family was gone. Poof!” Trixie said with a slight flourish of her fingers to represent something disappearing into thin air.

 

Honey nodded and bit her lip. “So. You invited Diana to Brian’s welcome home dinner?” Honey asked.

 

Trixie nodded. “I’m sure Moms will love to see her again. She’s always saying our walls are stretchy and how we always have room for one more.” She laughed. “But don’t worry – I did tell her about the extra people coming so it wouldn’t be a surprise. And Diana did know Brian and Mart when we were all kids. I’m sure Brian won’t mind another person.”

 

Honey’s large hazel eyes clouded over and Trixie was stunned to realize Honey was sharing the same look Diana had when talking about her brother Mart.

 

Ew! Could her best friend and childhood best friend have romantic feelings for her… brothers?

 

“How did your date go from the other night?” Honey asked.

 

“Meh,” Trixie said, shrugging her shoulders.

 

“That well?” Honey said with a laugh.

 

“They all seem nice,” Trixie said. “But then they find out I’m a bondsman and they’re either creeped out or a little too into it and want to ‘see my handcuffs’. They just aren’t the right guy for me.” How do you explain to anyone – even your best friend – that she’d found and lost the most wonderful boy in the world in one crazy summer twelve years ago?

 

“You’ll find the right guy,” Honey said, loyal as ever.

 

“Any suggestions for what I should wear for this meeting tomorrow?” Trixie asked.

 

“Keep it simple,” Honey suggested. “Wear that black pencil skirt, the oversized sweater, and those killer platform Mary Jane heels. Dan says they make your legs go on forever.”    

 

Trixie gave a startled laugh. “Did he really say that?”

 

Honey smiled. “He did.”

 

Trixie laughed. “He was probably trying to piss Hallie off. Those two are like oil and water, I swear.” Trixie ran a hand through her mass of blonde ringlets. “I’m going to have to get up at dawn to straighten my hair for the meeting.”

 

“Oh, Trix, you have beautiful curls,” Honey said, loyally. “Besides, they’re calling for rain tomorrow. You don’t want to have to spend hours straightening them only to have them spring back to life at the first rain drop.”

 

Trixie sighed. Honey was right, of course, but she was still going to make the effort. “Okay, Hon. I’m calling it a night,” Trixie said. “I’ll see you Saturday for the picnic. Call or text if you have any information regarding those law offices or Mrs. Lynch’s brother.”

 

~*~*~

 

Jim Frayne watched with ice cold green eyes as the effervescent blonde with the mile long legs was shown into his office by his assistant, Dot. He sighed. Not another blonde. Ever since that distant summer, he’d had a weakness for blondes. Especially curly haired blondes with big blue eyes.

 

A weakness he combatted by only dating brunettes. Brunettes who were all nice, but didn’t challenge him. Didn’t keep him on his toes. Didn’t even begin to make his heart beat a little faster.

 

The blonde walked in wearing a tight black skirt that emphasized her killer curves and were paired with a pair of glossy black shoes. Luckily for him, her hair was completely bone straight. He could resist, he decided.

 

He stood as she approached, the way his father taught him all those years ago. He knew his 6’4” frame was intimidating but manners were manners.  He offered his hand. “My name is Jim,” he said. “How can I help you?”

 

The cute blonde gasped and golden freckles stood in stark relief against her suddenly too pale skin.

 

With stunning speed for a man his size, Jim darted around his desk and guided her to one of the overstuffed chairs. “Are you okay?” he asked, ginger brows creased over green eyes.

 

“You’re – him!” Trixie said with stunned disbelief. “Ten Acres! I should have known.”

 

Jim watched the woman warily, before taking in her blonde hair and clear china blue eyes. His eyes dropped to her hands and caught the glint of his Aunt Nell’s antique engagement ring. “Trixie?” he said, a ghost of a grin appearing on his mouth.

 

“Jim! Oh. Oh! Oh gleeps! Honey is going to have kittens when I tell her I’ve found you.” Impulsively, she threw herself out of the chair and hugged the man her long ago crush had grown into. “We tried to find you – Honey and I, I mean. And Miss Trask, of course. We were much too young to go on a road trip by ourselves, you know. But we looked and looked!” She hugged him again.

 

Jim watched with amused interest as Trixie stood and began to pace. “I can’t believe it. Honey said there had to be a connection but I was sure it was just a coincidence. I mean, this is Manhattan which is close but still pretty far from Sleepyside. Who would put that together? Well, obviously Honey, but I mean other than her?” Jim blocked Trixie’s agitated path and held a long finger to her lips.

 

“We obviously have some catching up to do,” Jim said, calmly. “But you also came here for a reason. What do you want to handle first? New business or old?”

 

Indecision clearly showed on Trixie’s face. “New,” she said, firmly.

 

Jim glanced casually at the gold Rolex on his wrist. “Let me get you a bottle of water,” Jim said. He guided her back to a chair and left this office.

 

He returned a few minutes later. “Okay, I had Dot clear my schedule for the rest of the afternoon. What’s going on, Trixie?”

 

In the briefest of terms, she caught Jim up on her role in the Lynch case. “I’m not here to take your case,” she assured him. “But was hoping that as professionals and members of NABEA, we can work together so the Lynches don’t lose their apartment and you don’t lose your man.”

 

“I never lose my man,” Jim said with a grin.

 

“I know,” Trixie said, admiration shone in her clear blue eyes. “You’re a legend in the field. One of the best skip tracers in the business. I was so relieved when I was able to get in to see you directly. I still can’t really believe it.”

 

“I’m just a bail bondsman – same as you, apparently,” Jim said. “Don’t you meet with your clients?”

 

Trixie nodded. “We’re more of a family operation. We don’t have too many jumps, thank goodness. We’re small fry compared to what you do. But yes, of course someone in the family always meets with clients or families.”

 

Jim packed up a laptop and pulled an overnight bag out of his closet. “Is Honey in Sleepyside as well?”  Trixie frowned. Had a coolness invaded Jim’s voice? “What happened to your plans of a detective agency?”

 

Trixie shrugged. “I guess we grew up,” she said finally. “Honey is a lawyer now for Wheeler International so she works wherever her father sends her. But yes, she’s in Sleepyside this weekend. My brother Brian is on leave and is coming home for a visit.”

 

“Brian? Is that the brother who got bit by a snake?”

 

“No, that’s Bobby. Sorry. It’s Bob now, but you know – some habits are hard to break. Brian is a Navy doctor,” she said, proudly. “Mart and Bob work with me at Triple B,” she said, using her nickname for Belden Bail Blondes. "The three of us are blondes. So, we're bail blondes."

 

“Let’s go get some lunch,” Jim invited. “I’ll follow you up to Sleepyside and we can start working on the case this weekend.”

 

“I took the train down,” she said.

 

Jim nodded. “Okay, then I’ll drive you upstate,” he said.

 

Trixie’s mouth opened and closed like a trout, searching for air. “We’re having a picnic tomorrow to welcome Brian home this weekend. It’s his birthday and he’s on leave for a few days.” She had already impulsively invited Honey and Diana to the family function. Really – what was one more? “Would you like to join us?”

 

“If you don’t think your family would mind, I’d like that,” Jim said, guiding Trixie out of his office. Trixie smiled politely at the glamorous woman at the front desk.

 

 Jim merely nodded curtly to his assistant as they left the building.

 

“Oh, no!” Trixie cried as they exited. “It’s raining.”

 

Jim grinned. How had he gone over ten years without her bubbly personality to warm his days? He sighed internally. He’d been bribed, pure and simple. He’d let himself be lured in by the promise of a little easy cash. Okay, a lot of easy cash, but still. Damn, he’d missed her. “It’s just rain,” he said with a lopsided grin. He opened up his umbrella and they walked to a nearby restaurant.

 

“No, you don’t understand,” Trixie said, sighing with resignation. She practically heard her curls breaking free of their straightened status. “I straightened my hair,” she said, indicating the loose curls forming as they dampened in the humidity.

 

“There they are,” Jim said. He reached one large freckled hand up and tugged gently on one of her newly forming curls. “For a while there, I thought you’d lost those beautiful curls.”

 

Trixie looked up, up, up at Jim, for the first time realizing just how tall he was. “A snake bite and messy curls – is that all you remember?”

 

Jim laughed. “I remember a lot from that summer,” he confided. “If you tell me your memories, I might even tell you mine,” he offered.