Off they skied, only to be stopped again by Jim in a few hundred yards. This time he didn't say a word, just held up his hand. The others, catching up to him, sensed the need to be quiet, but gave him quizzical looks.

Then they followed his gaze and saw two deer, magnificent graceful creatures, drinking from the opposite side of the creek. Every line of their bodies had a smooth purposefulness to it. One doe lifted her head and, looking directly at Trixie, stood as motionless as a piece of sculpture.

The Mystery at Mead's Mountain

This story is part of my Taking Chances universe. It is not necessary to read all the prior stories to enjoy this one. If you've not read the last two, here's a quickie synopsis to bring you up to speed on this one. Jim and Trixie have been married for 10 years. Their 8-year-old daughter Martina is pretty much a Muggle version of Hermione—strong-willed and extremely intelligent. Jamie, their son, is a typical six year old…bratty and rambunctious one minute and a sweet, cuddly angel the next. This story takes place in February. Standard disclaimer stuff: The characters from the original Trixie Belden series that appear in this story aren't mine. I've shamelessly used them for my own pleasure. They now belong to Random House, although I think it's a shame that these wonderful people have to be owned by a company. Anyway, I've not made any money from this project, so if RH wants to sue me, they'll not get much in return except for some ragged fingernails and a well-used thesaurus.

Winter Blessings: A Return to Mead’s Mountain

By Diann

Trixie climbed out of Jim's Expedition, her blue eyes shining with excitement as she surveyed the Alpine Lodge at Mead's Mountain and its picturesque surroundings. The cover over the driveway area in front of the main entrance protected her from the light snow that fell like small crystal sparkles from a dazzling Vermont sky.

She always felt a connection here, always felt proud that she had been an integral part in Mr. Wheeler's decision to buy the property and develop it with family and nature in the forefront. She smiled at two couples sliding by on their cross-country skies and the Black Lab bounding over the snow as his master threw a Frisbee his way. A group of hikers passed by, cups of steaming hot chocolate in their hands, chattering excitedly about the moose they had seen on the upper trail.

The pounding of a small fist on the glass of the passenger door behind her snapped her back to the tasks at hand.

Thud! Thud! Thud! "Mom! Let me out! I want to go sledding!" came the muffled voice of her six-year-old son Jamie.

Trixie opened the door that had been secured with the locks set in child-protect mode. As soon as the door swung free, Jamie, who had long since unbuckled his seat belt, pushed himself out of his seat. He twisted and stood as far out as he could while standing on the edge of the floor of the passenger compartment, his pudgy hands trying desperately to release the straps that held his sled to the roof rack.

"Hey, hey, not so fast," Jim said, coming around the back end of the vehicle. "We need to check in, get our all of our stuff inside our cottage, and make sure the children's sledding area is open. Okay, buddy?" He held up a red and gray parka while Jamie slid his arms in. Jim then scooped his son up in his arms and gave him an affectionate hug.

"Okay, Dad, let's just hurry up and do it!" Jamie replied, urging his father to get moving, and then began to excitedly point. "Look! There's a playground with a swing set, sliding board, and climbing tunnels. Can I go play over there?" Jamie pleaded as he squirmed to get down.

After setting his son down, Jim turned in the direction in which Jamie was gesturing and saw a fence-enclosed playground. Inside the fence were two snow-suited girls, who looked to be about Martina's age, building a snowman and several young boys crawling into the transparent plastic entryway that led to the kids' equivalent of hamster habitat tubes.

"Sure, sport, it's okay with me as long as you keep your jacket zipped and wear your cap and gloves and…."

"Yippee!" Jamie exclaimed, as he snatched his knit cap and gloves out of the coat's pockets.

"And," Jim continued, catching the about-to-escape boy by the shoulders, "if it's okay with your mother."

"Say it's okay, Mom, please!!!"

Trixie backed away from the front seat, where she had been collecting the usual road-trip trash and putting it into a plastic bag, and looked at the playground. She felt her mother hen's protective feathers starting to rustle. "Well, now, I don't know. The slide is probably way too slick with snow or maybe even ice to be safe and those boys look older than you."

"Mom! I'd not a little kid!" Jamie protested. "I'll bet they're nice kids 'cause Grandfather wouldn't let mean people come here."

"Well, I guess I can't argue with that logic," Trixie said, softening on her original stance. "Okay, but only if Martina will go with you and you promise to stay off the slide."

"I promise!"

"Martina…" Trixie started but then realized her daughter had not followed her father around the Expedition. "Where's Martina?"

Jim shrugged and bent over to look through the windows of the vehicle. "Ah, there she is. She's just standing at the back of the Expedition, but something sure has her attention."

Trixie walked around to see Martina, standing stark still, eyes wide and her mouth slightly ajar. Trixie followed the almost visible line of her daughter's stare and found that it ended at a well-built, dark-headed guy in jeans and a red Henley-style waffled pullover standing on the tailgate of a black 4x4 truck. He was handing duffle bags from the bed of the truck to two other fellows standing on the ground.

Oh no, thought Trixie. Eight years old is too young to start this. Although I have to admit, that the scenery is quite nice. Talk about your tall, dark, and handsome. Trixie then blushed to her blonde roots when she realized that he had grinned and gave a quick wave to her and Martina.

Martina gave a shy wave back then, with her face aglow, looked back at Trixie. "Mom!" she squeaked. "Oh…my…gosh! Do you know who that is?"

"No, not right off hand. Is that someone you know?"

"That's Brady Mendez!" Martina swooned, obviously star-struck.

"You mean the Olympic gold medal skier? The one whose poster is on your wall? Wow!" Trixie replied, as they watched him jump from the back of the truck and head toward the entrance to the main lodge area with his buddies.

"Wow is right!" Martina agreed. "The other two are his teammates, Will Burbank and Hank Steiner."

"I wonder what they're doing here since there's mostly cross-country skiing trails here. There is one downhill course, but it's small. Certainly nothing worthy of Olympic skiers."

"Hey! What's going on back there?" Jim called out, sounding like he was a little out of breath.

"Oh, yeah! Martina, can you take your brother over to the playground while your dad and I check in?"

Martina gazed at the closing front doors and sighed. "Well, okay, but if you see Brady inside, tell him I think he's the greatest!"

"Okay, sweetie, I'll do just that. Thanks!"

Trixie looked around to see Jim galloping in a circle with a giggling Jamie perched on his dad’s strong shoulders. She gave Jim the “okay” sign and then kissed Martina on the top of the head. “Have fun but stay inside the fence,” she admonished, as she took a step back. As she did, Trixie was jarred by the force of someone running into her.

"Ow!"

"Mom, are you hurt?" Martina asked, placing a hand on her mother’s arm.

"No, just a little wobbly." Trixie turned to apologize and saw the young man with whom she had collided picking up what appeared to be a gold chain from the concrete driveway. "So sorry!" Trixie said to him. "I didn't see you. Are you okay?"

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his black ski jacket and growled, "Yeah, fine." He strode over to the board where various information about ski conditions, powder depth, and hiking trails was posted. He erased "Open" next to the trail labeled "Big Spruce" and wrote, with a piece of chalk from the tray, the word "Closed." He tossed the chalk back into the tray and stalked off, nearly knocking over a pile of suitcases and tote bags that another arriving guest had put on the sidewalk.

"What was that all about?" Jim asked as he and Jamie joined the two girls behind the truck.

"Oh, nothing much. I stepped back and didn't see that guy coming towards us," Trixie explained. "We just had a bit of a collision."

"I don't know, Mom. I think there's more to it than that," Martina said emphatically, her narrowed eyes following the rude man's trek across the snow. "He was acting awfully mysterious about the necklace that went flying out of his hand when you bumped him."

"Now, Martina, there was nothing mysterious at all…" Trixie started but then stopped when she heard Jim snickering. "What?" she demanded.

Jim's green eyes twinkled as he ruffled his wife's blonde curls. "Now, just what are you going to do to bribe me to keep that conversation a secret?"

"Bribe you? What in the heck are you talking about?" Trixie said as she made sure Jamie's coat was fully zipped and that his hat covered his ears. "Oh, yeah, I see what you mean," she sheepishly answered her own question.

"Mom, can we go now?" implored Jamie, who had been unusually patient.

"Yes, go!" Trixie laughed. "Be careful, though. We'll come get you when we're finished inside."

As the Frayne children scampered toward the playground, Trixie wrapped her arms around her good-looking husband and snuggled contentedly against his chest. "Jim, it's so beautiful here. I can't believe it's been seven years since we were last here."

"Yeah, I know," he replied, stroking Trixie's back. He pulled her closer and dropped his head to nibble on her ear. "But you do remember that we took home quite a souvenir from that trip. Maybe we can recreate the setting. Hmmm?"

Trixie recalled their visit in January, nine months before Jamie was born. The recollection of the days was a little fuzzy around the edges, but the memories of the nights were still quite vivid. "Ummm, Jim, we'd better stop this before our rising body heat melts all the snow and we're forever banished from Mead's Mountain. Let's go inside and take care of the checking-in business first. Then, later, we can discuss taking care of this business."

"Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Frayne. Please let us know if you need anything or if something isn't just right in your cottage," the courteous desk clerk said as he handed Jim two door keys. "I'll send Joey right over to help you unload your luggage."

Shaking his head, Jim responded, "No, that's okay. We'll be fine. Thanks, Mr. Donohoe. By the way, are Wanda and Linda here?"

"Miss Wanda is attending a conference on hotel management this weekend. Miss Linda is in Groverville right now but should be back in her office tomorrow morning. Would you like to leave a message for her?"

"Yes, please. Just tell her that we'll drop in to see her sometime tomorrow."

"I'll be glad to do that for you," Mr. Donohoe responded pleasantly. "When you do come back, her office is down that hallway, " he indicated a door to his left, "and is marked 'Food and Beverage Manager'. I'm sure she'll be delighted to see you."

Jim once again thanked him and handed Trixie one of the keys as they turned to head back to their vehicle.

"Trixie! Jim!"

Startled, Jim and Trixie looked toward the gathering area around the lodge's roaring fireplace to see who was calling to them. They saw a lithe yet athletically built young woman in a dark blue, form-fitting stretch-knit outfit hurrying toward them. Her close-cut cap of wavy chestnut hair bounced with each step. She was waving frantically with one hand while she placed the other on the shoulder of an older gentleman wearing a red plaid sports coat in order to avoid a collision as she swooped around him.

Trixie looked at curiously at the fast approaching girl, not quite placing her. She looks a lot like Alyssa Milano, but who is she? Just then, the girl broke out into the giga-watt smile that had captured the hearts of people worldwide during the last Winter Olympics and Trixie realized it was….

"ROSIE!" Trixie screamed. She broke away from Jim and met Rosie in the middle of the registration area with a tight hug. "Oh, my gosh! I can't believe it! It's so good to see you!"

"I was so excited when Wanda told me you’d be here this weekend!" Looking over Trixie's shoulder, Rosie wiggled her fingers at Jim and called out, "Hey, there! How are you?"

"Doing great, Rosie. This is quite a surprise," Jim said warmly as the two women, each with an arm wrapped around the other's waist, walked toward him. "How are your parents?"

"Just super! They've both been very busy but incredibly happy since Mr. Wheeler named Dad as managing partner for all three lodges and made Mom the general manager of the new Snow Haven lodge. They are so appreciative of your father's trust in them. They work really hard to make sure they don't disappoint him."

"One of the reasons Dad has been so successful is that he is able to judge character and ability, and he knew he had a goldmine of both those traits in your parents," Jim responded. "It looks like the old saying about the apple not falling far from the tree is true. We were so proud of you during the Olympics! Every time you were on, we'd all gather around the television to cheer for you!"

Rosie blushed and dipped her head. "Aww, thanks, Jim. What a nice thing for you to say."

"It's true," Trixie affirmed. "All of the Bob-Whites were at the country club watching your last downhill run on the TV in the dining room. When they flashed your time on the screen and we knew you'd won the bronze, we all went nuts! We were jumping up and down, yelling and hugging, and making general fools of ourselves."

"So much so that the maitre d' came over and told us that hooligans were not allowed in the main dining room of the country club and suggested that we leave immediately for the Dog Wagon to congregate with our own kind!" Jim related. He and Trixie burst into laughter remembering the incident.

"I don't believe you! No way!" Rosie screeched in laughter herself.

"Yes way! It was quite the evening," Trixie said, when she could finally stop laughing long enough to speak.

"So what are you guys doing here? Having a romantic getaway, hmmm?" She winked at Jim and then waggled her eyebrows knowingly at Trixie.

Trixie sighed. "Ah, that would be nice but there's no way our kids would let us come up here without them. They've been so looking forward to this trip."

"Kids? As in plural?" Rosie asked in an astonished tone. "I knew that you had one, a daughter, I think. So there's more?"

"Gleeps! We do have a lot to catch up on," Trixie replied. "Yes, we have two—one girl and one boy. Martina is 8 and Jamie is 6. They're both out on the playground right now.”

"Are either of them interested in skiing?" Rosie asked.

"Oh heavens, yes," Trixie answered. "Well, Jamie is just getting the hang of skiing, but he is a little daredevil when it comes to sledding."

"Now I wonder where he gets that tendency?" Jim said, affectionately wiggling the tip of Trixie's nose with his forefinger.

"Hmph. Yeah, well, just who was it that hit the road at 15 to look for a job at a boys’ camp?" Trixie retorted.

Rosie grinned as she watched the banter between the husband and wife who were obviously so much in love. "What about Martina?"

Trixie rolled her eyes. "I swear she'd sleep with her skis on if we'd let her. She just got a new pair for Christmas and has tested them thoroughly. She also reads the cover off the ski magazine she gets every month." Just then Trixie made the connection between Rosie and the skiers Martina had spied earlier. "Oh! That explains it, or at least I think it does."

Rosie was clearly confused but too polite to say anything.

Jim, seeing the look on Rosie's face, chuckled. "It's okay, Rosie. Trixie sometimes has conversations in her head but only lets the rest of us in on it about halfway through."

Giggling, Trixie said, "You know me well, my hubby. What I was thinking before my mouth spewed forth the last half of my thoughts was that earlier Martina recognized Brady Mendez and two of his teammates. We were wondering why they were here, but since we now know that you are here, it makes more sense that they are here. See?"

Rosie exploded in laughter. "Trixie, I hate to admit it, but I know exactly what you're talking about."

"Ha! See, Mr. Frayne, it's been you out of sync all this time," Trixie said, giving him a saucy wiggle of her butt. "Seriously, though, Rosie, what's going on? Unless some drastic changes have been made, there are no slopes here that are set up for Olympic training."

Rosie nodded in agreement. "You're right, Trixie, there's not. There are eight of us, four women and four men, on a U.S. team that will be competing against five European teams in a few weeks near Zurich. We're here for a few days to plan strategy and watch films of our last two competitions to assess our strengths and take a hard look at what needs improving."

"That's really interesting, Rosie. Let me ask you this," Trixie said.

"Whoa! Whoa!" Jim interrupted. "Tell you what. You lovely ladies stay here and catch up on everything, while I take our stuff to the cottage before the Expedition gets arrested for loitering and our suitcases freeze into rectangle ice cubes."

The A-frame chalet with a wing off either side sat on the snow-blanketed hill behind the main lodge. The clearcoat stain on the cedar exterior kept the winter holiday home in the spirit of the Lodge’s overall “at one with nature” theme. Trixie stomped her boots on the grooved coco mat that rested on the concrete pad and saw that Jim had already put their skis, ski poles, and Jamie's sled in the rack to the right of the door. She smiled at the hand-tooled wooden sign tacked over the doorframe that proclaimed the cottage to be Winter Blessings.

Winter Blessings, Trixie thought. That's the name of my favorite Carl Stevenson painting. That's pretty neat that it's the same name as our cottage. With a turn of the brass knob and a push on the heavy door, Trixie found herself staring into an expansive, open-style room that was as magnificent as the painting.

Upon hearing the creak of the door, Jim twisted on the dark green corduroy sofa to see Trixie, her sparkling blue eyes surveying the room, come through the door. He tossed the latest edition of Outdoor Life onto the birch end table and rose to meet her.

"Hey, sweetie! Well, what do you think?" Jim asked as he swept his hand around.

"I can't believe this is called a 'cottage.' Just this one room is bigger than Mart's house!" Trixie exclaimed as she took in the wood-paneled splendor of the majestic cathedral ceiling that reached to a 20-foot peak in the center. Immediately in front and extending to her right, where Jim had been sitting, was a sunken living area. Two loveseats and a full-size sofa formed a U-shape in front of a large, black river rock fireplace in which crackled a warm, inviting fire. To the left was a kitchen fit for a gourmand with all the latest in kitchen appliances and gadgets, and a dining area with a round oak table and six chairs.

A large tower of boxes, brightly patterned in reds, golds, and greens, tied with a red satin bow, sat in the center of the table.

"Unless I miss my guess, that is a gift assortment from Harry and David's," Trixie said. "Who sent it?" She shrugged off her jacket and hung it on the coat hooks mounted on the wall beside the door.

"Your powers of observation are still as sharp as ever. Sit on the bench there and I'll help you with your boots. That is, indeed, an assortment of fruits and treats from Harry and David's," Jim confirmed as he unlaced and removed her boots and placed them inside the shoe tray next to his. "Bobby and Katie sent it to us to thank us for everything we did for them when they got married and for all of your help in getting their apartment fixed up."

"So that was the 'see-crud' Bobby was smirking about when we saw him before we left town! That's sweet of them, but those kids don't have any extra money to be sending us something like that," Trixie said. She felt bad knowing they had probably spent close to seventy-five dollars on the gift. She knew that Bobby's salary as a fireman and his part-time work at Home Depot just barely covered their necessary living expenses, especially since Katie was going to school full time and was not working.

"I know, but Bobby and Katie both think you hung the moon, and they probably got a lot of satisfaction in doing something for you," Jim reassured her. He then gestured over his shoulder with his thumb to the area just beyond the table. "Behind those vertical blinds are sliding glass doors that lead to a deck that has a spectacular view of the valley. In that wing," he continued as he pointed to Trixie's right, "are the bedrooms for the kids or other guests and a bath."

"So here we have the living room, kitchen, dining area, and guest bedrooms." Trixie raised an eyebrow and bobbed her head toward the other wing. "Don't tell me that whole other section is the master suite."

Jim grinned and nodded in affirmation. "Yep! Sure is, but honestly I'm afraid to show it to you." He stood and then pulled Trixie to her feet and led her towards the sofa.

"Why?" Trixie asked in a surprised voice as they stepped down into the living area. "Is it nasty or smelly or filled with math books?"

"No, nothing like that. Just the opposite," Jim explained. "I'm afraid that once you see the king-size four-poster rice bed with its cozy down comforter, the coffee nook, the private deck complete with hot tub, and the bathroom that makes the Canyon Ranch Spa look cheesey, you'll not want to go home!"

"Holy cow! For real?! Eric really did create the perfect mountain getaway!" Trixie settled on the comfy sofa and pulled one of the hunter green, maroon, and beige knitted afghans across her lap.

Jim frowned as he questioned Trixie. "Eric? Who's Eric?"

Trixie clasped her hands over her heart, batted her eyes, and sighed. "Ah, Eric," she said in her most wistful voice. "I'm afraid that in the two hours that you and I were apart, I met the true man of my dreams. We had a passionate love affair, and he's promised to take me away and make me his queen."

"Oh, then Eric must be that old geezer in the plaid coat we saw in the lodge."

"Oh you!" Trixie laughed, lightly slapping Jim's chest. "Eric, the ski instructor that was here when we came to evaluate the property for your dad. Good heavens! That's been over 15 years ago!"

"More like 17, I think," Jim said. "Yeah, of course, I remember him, but what does he have to do with our cottage?"

"Rosie said that Eric's firm won the bid for the design and construction of the new family cottages. He personally drew the plans for each of the six units, making sure that each had its own personality but didn’t overshadow Mother Nature's beautiful handiwork."

Jim snapped his fingers. "I remember now! Eric told us he wanted to be an architect. Later on he told me privately that he was saving the money he earned during his breaks and his part-time job at school to help finance his education because he wanted to do it on his own, rather than using any of his mom's money."

"That's right. He was a lot like you in that respect. He didn't touch one cent of the money left to him by his grandfather until he graduated, completed his apprenticeship, and was ready to set up shop," Trixie said. "Rosie also told me that Eric invested a nice chunk of his inheritance and uses the interest to fund scholarships for kids who can't afford to attend winter ski camps. Isn't that super?"

"Wow, that is a great thing he's doing," Jim agreed. "I should contact Eric about drawing the plans for the new nature center we've talked about. Plus he might know of some boys that he could refer to the school."

"Speaking of the school, did you call and check on Scottie?"

"Yes, I did, and he's going to be fine, thank goodness!" Jim said, his face showing obvious relief. "I still can't figure out what possessed him to sneak out of the dorm during that horrible rainstorm and ride his skateboard down the driveway that was covered in a sludge of ice and snow."

Trixie shuddered, remembering the frantic call from the school's resident nurse two nights ago. "I don't know either, but I'm fairly positive he's de-possessed now. I know we did some outrageous things when we were in elementary school, but fortunately we were never seriously hurt." Trixie snuggled into the blanket and watched the fire form hot orange and yellow spikes as the hardwood burned into gray ashes.

"Oh!" Trixie called out suddenly. "Speaking of kids, where are ours? Jeepers, what kind of mother takes over 15 minutes to realize her children aren't around?"

Jim laughed and slid closer to Trixie. He surrounded her with his arms and pulled her soft body closer to him. "You're the best mother, Trix, so don't be scolding yourself. When I left you and Rosie and went outside, the children's activity director came over to introduce herself. It was time for the kids' nature hike and she asked if Martina and Jamie could go."

"That sounds like something they'd really enjoy. So I take it they …"

Her words were interrupted by her husband's mouth being planted firmly across her lips in a kiss that burned with a deep passion.

As their kiss ended, Jim lowered his head and gently nuzzled his face against Trixie's warm neck. In between soft nibbles, he informed her that their children had indeed gone on the nature hike.

"And, at least for now, we're alone?" Trixie whispered.

"Uh-hmmmmmmm," was the reply as he lifted the blanket, slid his left leg across her lap, and pressed his body against hers.

BANG! The front door flew open and slammed against the wall.

"DAD!!!! Make him leave me alone," Martina screamed as she ran in with Jamie hot on her heels, threatening to stick a piece of "ABC" bubble gum in her strawberry-blond curls.

"Well, darn! Back to the real world," Trixie choked out as she tried to sit up and push Jim away, both at the same time.

Jim shrugged and kissed his wife on her cheek. "Such is the life of Mr. and Mrs. Jim Frayne and Company."

"Hey, hey, what's going on?" Trixie yelled over the back of the couch. "Stop running in the house! Jamie, stop doing whatever it is you are doing to aggravate your sister! Both of you calm down, shut the door, and go get your baths!"

"Calm down, eh? That's good advice for the goose and the gander," Jim snorted under his breath.

After placing the last of the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, Trixie placed a dishwasher gel pack into the detergent cup and closed it with a snap. She then shut the door, selected her washing options from the panel, and pressed "Start."

"Amazing!" she said. "Can you believe how quiet this thing is? I can hardly hear it and I'm standing right next to it!"

"It's the thick stainless steel tub and the extra insulation the new models have," Jim explained. "Now come on over and be with your family in front of the perfect fire that your perfect husband, assisted by your perfect children, built just for you after you created such a perfect supper of spaghetti, salad, and garlic bread."

Trixie grinned as she dried her hands and tossed the used paper towel into the trash compactor. "How can I refuse such a perfect invitation?" She left the kitchen and joined Jim on the sofa, while the kids were stretched out on the plush woodland brown carpet. "Martina, now finish telling us about your hike today. You had gotten to the part where you had reached the fork in the trail."

Jamie shook his head and announced he was going to bed. "Mom, it was so embarrassing. I don't think I can listen to it again."

"Embarrassing? How?" Trixie quizzed Jamie as he pushed himself up from the floor.

"She was acting like a nut!"

"I was not!"

"Yes, you were."

"To your corners!" Jim called out to the young pugilists. "I'll tuck Jamie in and then I want to hear about your adventures today, Martina. In the meantime, you squaws fix some popcorn." He ducked just in time to avoid the pillow that was flung at his head.

Martina ate a few more kernels of the hot popcorn and took a sip of water before she continued. "So, anyway, after I had correctly identified a Fraser fir and a sugar maple, we came to a fork in the trail. The fork on the left went farther up the mountain toward some interesting looking caves I really wanted to evaluate for possible spelunking in the spring…."

Trixie choked at the thought of her precocious daughter "spelunking" anywhere.

"You okay, Trix?" Jim asked.

"Oh yeah, nothing that a good wringing of a certain brother's neck won't cure. Go ahead, honey, you were saying?"

"Yeah, so this one trail continues uphill," Martina swept her hands up in the air, "while the other one went downhill back toward the lodge," she finished by theatrically dropping her hands to the floor. "We were all excited when Pam—that's our leader, you know—when Pam started up the trail towards the caves."

Martina paused to select a few more choice pieces of her favorite snack from the bowl and then popped them into her mouth. "We hadn't gone very far when she stopped us to look at her map. Then she said we had to go back. Jamie and the other little kids started whining, but I, being the more mature of the group, simply questioned her as to why we needed to go back."

"Uh huh, you did, did you?" Jim responded, while Trixie seriously studied a loose string in her blanket as she tried to keep a straight face.

"Oh, yes. I pointed out that the atmospheric conditions were perfect, there was no indication of freezing precipitation in the immediate forecast, and there were no heavy accumulations of snow on any of the overhangs that might be a concern for an avalanche. Jamie and his friends were certainly yelling enough to cause one."

At the mention of the word "avalanche" Trixie looked up quickly as the events of many years ago came into sharp focus. "Caves!"

Martina was startled by her mother's sudden outburst and was momentarily nonplussed. "Well, uhhh, yeah, caves, but the mouths were narrow cuts. No one else saw them but me. That's why Jamie said he was embarrassed, because his little friends started saying I was crazy and making it up. But they were there! I saw them!"

"You're right, Martina, there are caves up there, but you are not to be doing any exploring up there. Understand?" Trixie said a little too severely.

Martina was obviously taken aback at her mother's strong tone. "Oh, okay, Mom," her voice quivered.

"Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry. Come here." Trixie held out her arms to her daughter. Martina crawled across the floor and let her mother enfold her in a warm hug. "It's just that I know you’re a curious girl who wants to learn about everything, and your dad and I worry about you getting hurt. So, why did Pam say you had to go back?"

Martina, now in better spirits, burrowed between her parents on the sofa and continued her story. "Well, even though Pam is well-trained in mountain climbing, survival skills, and is working on her degree in the field of outdoor recreational leadership, she is new to this area. After we took the trail, she decided she'd better check her map, just to make sure we wouldn't be encountering any dangerous situations if we stayed on that particular course."

"Yes, that's a very sensible thing to do," her dad agreed. "What did she say?"

"Well, she said…Oh! Mom!" Martina interrupted herself. "I forgot to tell you! You know that rude guy you bumped into today? His name is Rick and he's the new ski instructor here."

"Oh yeah?" Trixie responded with raised eyebrows. "That would explain why he was changing the board outside the lodge. He's going to have to work on his people skills, though, if he intends to work here for very long. Isn't that right, Jim?"

"Absolutely! Dad doesn't micromanage any of his businesses or properties, but he won't stand for rudeness from any of his employees, especially ones that have direct dealings with clients. We'll need to let Wanda know if Rick continues to act that way."

"Anyway, what made you think to tell me about the ski instructor?" Trixie inquired.

"Well, Pam realized that we were on Big Spruce trail, the one that Rick had closed. I could tell by the way she was looking around that she was confused about why the trail was closed." She turned to face Trixie, a serious look on her face. "When we started to leave, I saw something very strange!" Martina finished in a dramatic stage whisper.

It was all Trixie could do keep from laughing at Jim as he pantomimed making a noose, slipping it over his head, and hanging himself.

"What did you see?"

Martina leaned closer to her mother and answered in a conspiratorial voice. "Tracks! I saw two sets of tracks leaving the main trail heading toward the caves, but only one set coming back. And another thing, I swear I saw something shiny in the snow beside the single set of tracks coming back. That's really odd, isn't it?"

Trixie's "mother mind" raced with a dozen logical explanations, but her "detective mind" agreed with her daughter. "Now, Martina, you know you're not supposed to 'swear' to anything, but you're right, that is …."

A fit of coughing from Jim stopped her from completing her thought. She looked over to see him sternly shaking his head and mouthing ‘No! No! No!’

Trixie breathed out with a sense of defeat, knowing he was right. "But you're correct, there are caves up there. Maybe in the spring we can come back for the wildflower pilgrimage and take you and Jamie up that way. Okay?"

Martina rolled her eyes and sighed. Parents! she moaned inwardly. I guess I'll be fifty before I'm not considered a child!

Jim lay on the floor in front of the fire that had died down to a gentle glow, which gave a cat-like amber glimmer to his green eyes. Trixie sat straddled across the small of his back, pressing her palms together to warm the ginger spice massage oil before applying it to his supple, bare back.

"Did Rosie have anything else interesting to say?" Jim asked.

"She did, actually," Trixie said as she pressed her hands against his shoulder blades. "You saw the wood sign over the front door? Well, guess who made it and all the signs for the family cottages?"

Jim thought for just a second, then gave a small shake of his head. " I don't have the foggiest notion. Who?"

"Jenny!" Trixie answered enthusiastically, as she rubbed the muscles of his upper back.

"Wanda and Linda's sister Jenny? Wow! That's great!" Jim turned his head and settled his forehead on his crossed hands as he continued to enjoy his wife's ministrations.

"Isn't it? The puzzles she and her dad made were such a hit, that when she was 18 she began taking some arts and crafts classes at the community center to see what she could do on her own. She was really good with the wood-burning tool and started making custom-made signs for one of the gift shops in town." Trixie paused to squeeze a little more of the massage oil in her palm. "You know that she was a special friend of Eric's anyway. Remember how they just seem to click at her tea party for us? When Eric found out that Jenny was making the wood signs, he contracted with her to make them for his company."

Jim raised and twisted his head to respond. "Fantastic! And that applies to Jenny's accomplishments and your back massage. Are you sure you've never done this professionally?"

"No, silly boy, but I'm glad you're enjoying it." Trixie used the heels of her hands to knead down his back on either side of his spine.

"Mmmmmmmmm, wonderful," Jim sighed and then, realizing Trixie had stopped, lifted his head. "Hey, is my appointment time up?"

"Oh, sorry, no, I was just thinking about something else I found out," Trixie said, her thoughts gone to another time and place.

"Which was?" Jim inquired.

"Remember Martina and I saw three of the guys from the ski team, and then later on Rosie said that there were four men and four women on the U.S. team that were meeting here?"

"Yeah."

"Well, it seems that the fourth guy from the team is missing."

"Missing? What's the story?" asked Jim.

Trixie lightly spider-walked her fingers across Jim's back and explained, "While Rosie and I were talking, Hank Steiner came over and asked Rosie if any of the girls had heard from Mitch—that's the fourth member of the men's team. Mitch's flight was supposed to land at the airport in Montpelier about an hour before the other guys arrived. They had made arrangements to meet at the baggage claim area but Mitch wasn't there."

"Did they have him paged?"

"Yes, they did but got no response. They also tried calling his cell phone and called here to see if he had come on out to the lodge." Once again Trixie stopped and stared into the fireplace as though the low flames could somehow gel her thoughts.

"If you'll let me up, I'll massage your feet," Jim suggested. "I'm sure they made sure that Mitch's plane actually came in, didn't they?"

"Oooooo, that'll be nice," Trixie agreed, her face brightening. As they resettled themselves and Jim removed the sock from her left foot, Trixie continued the story. "Oh yeah, they did that while they were at the airport. The airlines did confirm that Mitch's flight arrived on time but, for security reasons, wouldn't tell them if Mitch was actually on the flight."

Using his strong thumbs, Jim began making long, slow stroking motions on Trixie's foot, starting at the base of her toes and working his way down.

"Oh my goodness, that feels scrumptious," Trixie moaned appreciatively.

"Did Rosie or anyone call Mitch's family or the authorities?" Jim inquired as he cupped the heel of her foot in one hand, gently grasped the ball of her foot with the other, and slowly rotated her ankle.

Trixie closed her eyes and let her chin drop to her chest. "They did call his parents, but no one was at home. They haven't yet called the authorities but said they would if he hadn't arrived or called by tomorrow."

A click from the kids' bedroom area caused both Trixie and Jim to snap their heads toward the sound.

"Must have been one of the kids going to the bathroom," Trixie mused. She then realized that Jim was on all fours, his face very close to hers.

"May I help you, sir?" Trixie murmured in a sultry voice.

"Why, yes, I believe you can. You see what I need is…." Jim slid his hand into her soft hair, pulled her closer, and whispered his final thought into her ear.

"Is that right? If you'll step into my parlor, I'll take care of that right away."

Trixie woke, drenched in sweat. She smiled, thinking it was the remains of their hedonistic tryst, but then realized that the heater was blasting hot air into an already sweltering room.

Good grief, we must have forgotten to turn down the thermostat for this end of the house, Trixie thought as she carefully put Mrs. Moo Cow on her pillow, tossed back the covers, and sat upright. She glanced at the clock and saw that it was almost 6:30. Well, heck, I might as well stay up and attempt those homemade cinnamon rolls like Moms makes.

She slid her feet into her fuzzy yellow slippers and grabbed her terry cloth robe from the floor. As she opened the door that led into the central room, a hard flash of cold air hit her square on. She hurriedly stepped through the opening and shut the door behind her. She slid her arms into her robe and quickly wrapped it tightly around her.

Brrrrr. From sweating hot to freezing cold. It'll be a wonder if I don't die from pneumonia.

Trixie snapped on the kitchen light and started to walk toward the thermostat. She then saw why it was frigid in the den and why the heater had kept blasting away.

The front door was standing wide open.

Whoa! How strange is that?!? Trixie's eyes darted around the room to see if anything was in disarray….or to see if she could spot an intruder still on the premises. Quietly she approached the living area and scanned the floor and behind the sofas. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, she padded toward the door, trying to convince herself that the kids must not have closed the door tightly when they had come in and the strong wind during the night had pushed it open.

As she secured the door, newsreels of JonBenet Ramsey and Elizabeth Smart flashed through Trixie's mind and a fist of fear pounded her chest.

Don't be ridiculous. They just didn't shut the door last night. That's all. But I will make sure they are tucked in, Trixie told herself as she headed to their rooms. Besides, why would anyone want to kidnap our kids?

An inner voice answered her question. Because they're the grandchildren of a billionaire.

Trixie felt as though she was slogging knee deep in sand, trying to reach the door of Jamie's bedroom. She calmed herself before turning the doorknob, lest she burst in and scare him needlessly.

Trixie breathed a sigh of relief when she saw a patch of blonde hair peaking out from underneath the covers. She tip-toed over and blew a kiss at his chubby cheek. She softly left the room and turned to open the door to Martina's room. However, it pushed open with just the touch of her hand.

The light from the rising sun filtered through the edges of the curtain and streaked a path across Martina's bed.

Trixie stopped short, her eyes wide, her breathing paralyzed. Her hands shot forward to grasp what wasn't there.

The sunlight fell on an empty bed.

To be continued.

This story was written in celebration of the fourth Jixaversary. Way to go, Cathy! ((big group hug!!)) It also includes the elements for Sydni's "Hearts Afire" GWP at the Trixie Belden Homepage: (1) someone new in town; (2) already-been-chewed bubble gum; (3) the phrase "I don't believe you"; (4) a plaid sport coat; (5) a skateboard; (6) a rainstorm; (7) a black 4x4 truck; (8) a fire of the writer's choosing; (9) Bobby having a see-crud; and (10) a passionate kiss.

Many thanks to Shana for her suggestions on how to improve a story that had been seriously lacking in descriptive details. A huge hug to Cathy for reading through the almost final version to check for stray punctuation marks and superfluous words and for her kind compliments.

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