CHAPTER ONE

"Dot Murray!" Trixie exclaimed. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Iowa!"

"Well, right now I'm sitting on a rock with a swollen ankle," the pretty blonde replied, looking down at her own foot. "But, in more general terms, we just moved here a few days ago. My dad got a job transfer and we bought a house on Old Telegraph Road."

Trixie stared at her.

"Look," Dot grimaced in pain as she tried to move her ankle, "I realize you don't like me very much, but would you please help me? This hurts really bad."

"Oh, of course," Trixie moved towards her. "I'm sorry; I'm just surprised to see you. Here, if I bring Strawberry closer, you can try to mount with your good ankle."

With Trixie's assistance and more than a little pain, Dot was finally situated in Strawberry's saddle. Trixie carefully adjusted the stirrup to support her injured ankle, and began leading Strawberry towards home.

"Thank you," Dot sighed with relief as they began moving. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come along."

"You're welcome," Trixie said automatically.

They walked along in silence for a few minutes before Dot spoke.

"Look, I just have to ask you," she said. "Why don't you like me? I mean, we barely spoke when you were at your uncle's house, but even then I could tell you didn't like me. Did I do something to you?"

"Yes, you…" Trixie flushed and stopped speaking.

"What?" Dot asked.

"You danced with Jim," Trixie mumbled.

"Yeah…" Dot raised her eyebrows. "And you danced with Ned Schultz."

"Well, yes, but…" Trixie stammered.

"Is Jim your boyfriend?" Dot asked. "I don't make a habit of going after other girls' boyfriends. If he is and I stepped on your toes, I'm sorry. It wasn't intentional."

"No, he's not," Trixie tried to explain. "We just.."

Dot waited patiently.

"We have an understanding, I guess," Trixie finished lamely.

"I didn't know that," Dot said quietly. "Truly, Trixie, I wouldn't have asked him to dance with me if I knew or even thought he was taken. But I have to ask you this – if you have an understanding, why did he dance with me?"

"We didn't have an understanding then," Trixie admitted. "It was after that, on the plane ride home, that he told me I was his special girl."

"Then it sounds like maybe things worked out, after all," Dot smiled.

"Yeah, I guess so," Trixie replied. "I mean, we're still not technically together, but…"

"So, do you think we could be friends, then?" Dot asked. "I mean, you saved my life and all, so I'd like to at least call you a friend."

"I didn't save your life," Trixie laughed. "No one dies from a sprained ankle."

"No, but I would have stayed out in the woods all night and died from exposure," Dot insisted.

"In June?" Trixie laughed again.

"Snakebite?" Dot offered. "Bear attack? Giant killer mosquitoes? Missing Jersey Shore on television tonight?"

"Okay, I thought maybe we could be friends, but now that I know you watch Jersey Shore, I've changed my mind," Trixie shook her head.

"I don't really!" Dot protested. "I was kidding. But I think you actually can die from exposure even in June."

"And we do have some pretty big mosquitoes," Trixie agreed. "Lucky for you, we're almost back to Manor House."

"What's Manor House?" Dot asked. "Your house?"

"No, Honey and Jim's house," Trixie answered, leading Strawberry through the last of the woods and into the clearing of the Wheeler's home and driveway. "I live over that way, in Crabapple Farm. Strawberry belongs to the Wheelers, though, and their groom, Regan, can help get you home."

"My mom is home," Dot looked around as they walked towards the stables. "If he has a phone, we can call her to come get me."

"Okay," Trixie agreed. "That might be better, since one of the horses is about to deliver and Regan doesn't really want to leave her side."

"Really?" Dot smiled. "I love horses. I used to visit my grandpa's ranch in Montana every summer and he bred horses. I actually got to watch the babies being born a couple times."

"Cool!" Trixie exclaimed.

"It was," Dot nodded.

"Regan!" Trixie called as they reached the stable. "Hey, Regan, can you help me, please?"

"What's up?" the young groom emerged from the stables.

'This is Dot," Trixie pointed to the girl on the horse.

"Dot from Iowa?" Regan asked.

"I see you've heard of me," Dot replied drily, as Trixie flushed again.

"Sorry," she said lamely, looking at her toes. "Her family just moved here and she was out walking in the preserve. It looks like she sprained her ankle."

Regan moved forward and gently took hold of Dot's ankle. He tried moving it gently, but stopped with her hiss of pain.

"Sure does," he agreed. "Let's get you off the horse and get your ankle elevated while we call your parents. Are they at home?"

"My mom is," Dot answered, grimacing as Regan carefully helped her from the horse.

"Okay," Regan carried her into the stables, setting her down in a chair in his office. Pulling an ice pack from the freezer, he propped her ankle on another chair and placed the ice pack against it.

Trixie followed, leading Strawberry into the stable. As she began removing his saddle and harness, she watched as Regan handed Dot the phone from his desk.

"Mom?" Dot said as soon as the call connected. "I need you to come get me."

By the time Dot's mother arrived, Trixie had finished with Strawberry and put him back in his stall. She hung back as Dot explained to her mother how she injured herself.

"Luckily, Trixie was near," Dot finished, pointing at her. "She helped me get on her horse and brought me here."

"Thank you so much for helping my daughter," Mrs. Murray smiled at Trixie. "I can see why Andy Belden is so proud of his niece."

"You're welcome," Trixie said shyly. "I'm glad I was able to help."

"We need to get you over to the hospital," Mrs. Murray turned back to her daughter. "It looks like a sprain, but we'd better have it checked just to be certain it's not a break."

"I'll help you get her in the car," Regan offered.

"Thank you," Mrs. Murray said again. Together, she and Regan carefully helped Dot out to her mother's car, a late-model sedan.

"Thanks, again, Trixie," Dot said as her mother got into the driver's seat.

"You're welcome," Trixie waved. "Call me when you get home and let me know what the doctor says about your ankle."

"I will," Dot looked surprised. "I think my mom has your number."

"Helen Belden?" Mrs. Murray asked. Trixie nodded. "I do have it. Dottie will call you as soon as we get back home. Thank you!"

Trixie and Regan watched as Mrs. Murray carefully drove down the driveway, towards Sleepyside.

"Well," Trixie said as the car drove out of sight.

"Well," Regan repeated, looking down at her.

"That was interesting," she said.

"It was," he agreed, grinning slightly.

"She's not as bad as I thought she was," Trixie admitted.

"No, she's not," Regan agreed. "But jealousy can make a not-so-bad person seem a lot worse than they really are."

Trixie nodded.

"You okay?" Regan asked.

Trixie nodded again.

"Do you want to check on Lady with me?" he asked.

Trixie nodded a third time.

As they walked towards the stables, Trixie thought about the say. Was Regan right? Was it jealousy that made Dot seem so bad in Iowa? Was Trixie acting unfairly in thinking Dot wasn't actually a nice girl? Suddenly, she remembered a conversation that she had with Jim while still in Iowa.

"I was acting like a cat when all along I thought Dot was super," she recalled saying to him.

Just then, she and Regan both clearly heard the sounds of a horse in distress. They rushed into the stables and towards Lady.

"Call the vet!" Regan instructed as they reached the horse and saw her labored breathing. "The number is on the cork board behind my desk. She's in labor!"

Trixie rushed off to make the call, realizing she wouldn't be home for lunch after all.

Much later, a tired Trixie trudged home. Entering her house through the back door, she found her mother in the kitchen, Bobby at the table having a snack.

"Well?" her mother asked.

"A little boy!" Trixie smiled. "She had a little boy and he's the cutest thing!"

"Wash your hands" Moms told her, beginning to make a sandwich.

As Trixie washed her hands and sat down at the kitchen table, she kept talking.

"He's brown, the prettiest chestnut brown you've ever seen, with a black mane and tail. He has spindly little legs and the biggest eyes!" she gushed.

"I want to see him!" Bobby exclaimed.

"Later," their mother said as she placed a plate in front of Trixie. "I'm sure mama and baby are both resting now."

"Regan said you can come see him tomorrow," Trixie told her little brother. "I'll take you up there in the morning."

"Okay," Bobby agreed, taking his plate to the sink and washing his hands. "I'm going to take Reddy out to the orchard, okay?"

Reddy, the Belden's aging Irish Setter, raised his ears at the sound of his name. He pulled himself out of his bed in the corner of the room and walked to his young master's side.

"Okay," Moms agreed. "Don't go too far."

"I won't," Bobby promised as boy and dog went out the back door.

"Well, it sounds like you had quite a day," Mom's said, joining Trixie at the table.

"I did!" Trixie nodded as she ate.

"I received an interesting phone call about twenty minutes ago," her mother said.

Trixie raised her eyebrows.

"Mrs. Murray called me," her mother explained.

"Oh, Dot!" Trixie put her sandwich down. "How is she? Was her ankle sprained or broken?"

"It was just a sprain," Moms answered. "She'll be on crutches for a few weeks, but the doctor said it should heal nicely."

"Oh, good," Trixie picked her sandwich up again. "I'll have to call her back after I eat."

"Mrs. Murray explained that you did quite a good deed for Dot today," Mrs. Belden continued.

Trixie shrugged.

"I just helped her get back to Manor House," she said. "It wasn't a big deal, but I'm glad she's okay."

"Either way, I'm proud of you," her mother said. "I know that you aren't Dot's biggest fan, but you still did the right thing."

"Dot's not so bad," Trixie admitted. "I think I was a little too hard on her."

Mrs. Belden smiled.

"Maybe," she agreed gently, "But now you have a second chance to get to know her. Maybe you'll find out she's actually a person you'd like to know."

"Maybe," Trixie grinned sheepishly. Finishing the last bite of her sandwich, she took her plate to the sink.

"Can I call her back now?" she asked her mother.

"Certainly," she replied.

"Thanks, Moms!" Trixie called as she headed up the staircase to her bedroom. "You're the best!"

Helen Belden chuckled to herself as she walked into the den, settling with her knitting into her favorite chair – the one that allowed her full view of the orchard her youngest son was currently racing their dog through.

"That's my job," she said.