Oklahoma Territory, May 1882

Seventeen year old Beatrix Belden hurried from the schoolhouse to catch up with her best friend Diana Lynch. As usual, Di waited at the bottom of the steps for her trouble-prone friend.

“Same spiel?” Di asked.

Trixie, as her old friend called her, nodded, short sandy curls bouncing.

“Yes. Not paying attention in class, followed by the ‘If you want to be a teacher’ lecture. Honestly, you’d think she’d try something new,” Trixie grumbled as the girls began the walk towards their house.

Trixie’s younger brother Bobby, was racing ahead with Di’s siblings. Since their farms were next to each other, they walked the several miles to and from school together. Di’s two sets of younger twin siblings were good friends, Bobby assisting Terry and Larry in the perpetual torment of Missy and Cissy, who were a year younger.

The warm, humid Oklahoma day had both girls fanning themselves as they walked past the mercantile. Trixie’s curls were damp and clung to her forehead.

“I didn’t even try to explain to her I don’t want to teach. Can you imagine the horror?”

Daniel Mangan dismounted from the large brown gelding he rode, his brown eyes surveying Winekekia, what he figured had to be the smallest town in the Oklahoma Territory. There was a livery, a schoolhouse, a tiny general store, a blacksmith, and a jail. Tulsa was a couple days ride to the east, and Dan preferred the constant activity. There wasn’t even a saloon here! Though there were a number of buildings being built, the hammering the only sound in the still warm day.

Granted, he was here to do a job, not kick back and enjoy the whiskey and girls. A saloon would be coming along shortly though, he thought, eyeing the traffic.

An excited female voice caught his ear and he turned, wondering what the local girls looked like.

A short, curvy girl with sandy blonde curls was walking by, talking animatedly to her friend, who tall, slender, and gorgeous, with shiny blue-black hair that flowed around her shoulders.

Not bad, Dan thought to himself with a smile. The blond wore a long skirt of dark blue, her white blouse had a scoop neck and bright blue eyes sparkled with life. Her companion wore a long, plain dress of shabby gray fabric that had been mended several times.

“I don’t know Trixie,” the black haired girl was saying, “it seems unlikely.”

But Trixie wasn’t paying attention. Her roving eyes had fallen on Dan as they passed, and he gave her a slow smile, sending a pleasurable shiver down her spine and making her blush.

“Trixie?” Di was asking.

Trixie grabbed her friend’s arm and sped up her walk.

“Did you see that man?” she hissed.

“What man?” Di turned and saw Dan heading into the General Store. “That one?”

“Yes!”

“All I saw was a man, Trixie,” Di said patiently.

“There was something-he was looking at us funny!”

Di sighed. “Trixie, you know men have been noticing us more. Especially with all the strangers coming in.”

“Men have always noticed you, Di,” Trixie laughed.

“I don’t see how in this wretched dress,” Di said unhappily.

Trixie put one arm around her friend’s slender shoulders. “Don’t worry Di. This year has to be a good crop!”

“I hope you’re right,” Di said mournfully, “Trix, I overheard Ma and Pa the other night. If we don’t have a good crop this harvest, the bank could foreclose on us!”

Trixie gasped. “Oh Di, we can’t let that happen!”

“Your Pa has been so good to us, helping us out,” Di said sadly, “But Pa is heartbroken over how he doesn’t see a way to pay him back.”

“Well don’t you worry about it,” Trixie said fiercely, “We’ll find a way to make it better!”

***

James Winthrop Frayne II rode up the long pathway to the house. The scrolled lettering of JWF that was the family brand hung over the welcoming arch of the Frayne estate. Lush green lawns greeted him as his horse Jupiter cantered towards the sprawling white plantation house with its stately columns. White prairie rose bushes adorned the house.

Reaching the front of the mansion, Jim dismounted. A young girl of about twelve looked outside.

“Afternoon,” Jim tipped his hat to her, “I’m Mr. Frayne’s great nephew, is he home?”

“Your name sir?” she asked.

“Jim Frayne. He’s expecting me.”

“Yes sir. Please come with me. I’ll send the boy for your horse.”

Jim looped Jupiter’s reins through the rail, patted his muzzle, and followed the young girl.

“I’m Alicia. My mam is Mr. Frayne’s housekeeper,” she said, leading Jim into the ornately decorated house.

Jim thought for a moment he had stepped into one of the Victorian houses from the East Coast. Lush carpets, rugs, wallpapers and furniture greeted him in each room. Vases, paintings and other knickknacks decorated the stunning house.

Taking his dusty hat off, Jim hoped his great-uncle wouldn’t mind the amount of dust he brought in with him.

“Mr. Frayne,” Alicia said softly, leaning over an elderly man who dozed in a heavy, floral covered chair, “Mr. Frayne, your nephew is here.”

James Winthrop Frayne Sr. gave a snort and opened his bright green eyes, looking a bit wild.

“Eh? What are you doing girl?” he demanded.

“Your nephew sir. You asked that he brought to you straightaway,” Alicia said patiently.

“Jimmy!” the old man got to his feet unsteadily but refused assistance from the slight girl. Embracing his grand nephew, James Sr. waved his hand at her. “Be gone, girl. Leave us menfolk in peace.”

Alicia curtsied and dashed out of the room.

“Jimmy, it’s so good to see you! I’d know you anywhere with that hair!” James beamed. His own hair had faded from the vibrant red that was their family trait, to pure white, and it was currently wild and askew. “That and you look just like your old papa and me.”

Jim hugged his great uncle. “It’s good to be here. I’m afraid I’m a bit dirty from the ride.”

“Pish posh. That girl can earn her keep to clean up. Sit, sit! Cigar?” James offered, reaching for a box.

Jim declined politely, abhorring cigars.

“Doc Ferris says I shouldn’t smoke but at my age, who cares?” James reached for one, then decided not to. “Not in the mood,” he grumbled.

Jim hid his smile. His great-uncle was exactly as his father had described him. Jim hadn’t seen the old man since he was a boy, and had only sketchy memories.

“You want to tell me about the rustling?” Jim asked, eager to get to business.

“Later, my boy, later. I want to hear how the family is doing,” James settled himself back into his chair.

Jim took the chair across from him to fill his uncle in.

***

Trixie hurried along the worn path towards Di’s farm. Something was nagging her about the dark haired man she had seen earlier. Her Ma Helen had packed a big basket full of crabapple jelly and fresh bread for Di’s family.

A horse’s whinny and a shrill scream broke her train of thought and she paused, placing the noise. Dashing through the woods to her left it was only a moment before she came upon another young lady, well dressed and sitting on the ground and looking furious as she rubbed her head.

“Goodness, are you all right?” Trixie knelt next to her, taking in the long green, velvet riding habit. Long, honey colored hair was swept back into an elegant ponytail, topped off with a pretty matching green velvet hat. Enormous hazel eyes looked up at Trixie from a pretty young face.

“Oh, I suppose so. Lady has never done that to me! Regan will be furious if she gets hurt!”

“Want me to go get her?” Trixie asked.

“Would you mind terribly?” the young woman asked.

“Not at all. Just stay there.”

“She went that way,” the young woman pointed.

Trixie hurried in the direction she pointed. The broken branches made it easy to follow the horse and sure enough, within minutes she had came upon a pretty gray horse with big, gentle eyes, munching happily on some wild grass.

“Hey there pretty one.” Trixie said softly, approaching slowly. “You gave your mistress a good scare. Come here.”

The horse eyed Trixie suspiciously, but the gentle tone coaxed her forward until Trixie could grab the reins. Lady willingly followed Trixie back to her mistress.

“Oh thank you!” the young woman smiled up at Trixie, from where she still sat on the ground. Trixie reached one hand out.

“You’re welcome. Need some help?” Trixie offered her tanned arm to her.

“Thank you,” the young woman stood. Slightly taller than Trixie, the slender woman was pale and Trixie noted how delicate her hand had felt through the white glove. The girl must have been a couple years older than her, Trixie thought. “I’m Madeleine Wheeler.”

“Beatrix Belden, but you can call me Trixie. Most of my friends do.” Trixie gave her a smile.

Madeleine returned it shyly. “I’ve never had a nickname,” she said wistfully.

“If your name was Beatrix, you’d find one, trust me.” Trixie laughed. “You must be new.”

“I am. We just moved here from New York. My father bought a cattle ranch.”

“Oh it must be the Straight Flats Manor!” Trixie exclaimed. “It’s the only one for sale around here.”

“Quite large, sits on a big flat plot of land?” Madeleine asked.

Trixie nodded, her curls bouncing enthusiastically.

“That’s it.” Madeleine sighed.

“Everyone around here calls it Manor House. Since old Mr. Straight moved out a few years ago it’s been empty. I’m afraid we’ve spent a lot of time trespassing and using your pond.”

“Oh please feel free to do so!” Madeleine said eagerly. “It’ll be so nice to have some friends!”

Trixie grinned. “ I live out on Crabapple Farm, over that way. You’ll know it in the spring when all our trees bloom. We grow mostly wheat though, for the main crop.”

“Oh it must look lovely!” Madeleine exclaimed, “We had some crabapple trees up in New York. I wonder if they’re the same breed?”

Trixie shrugged. “I don’t know. But they’re really pretty and my Ma makes the best jelly!”

“That sounds simply divine!” Madeline gushed.

“You rode an awful far way out, do you know where you’re going?” Trixie asked.

“I did until Lady threw me. I think she saw a snake! I’d swear I saw something slither that way with black diamonds on its back! And a rattle!”

“Sounds like a Diamondback Rattlesnake. Watch out for them. They’re deadly,” Trixie warned.

“Are there-are there lots of snakes out here?” Madeline asked timidly.

“Oh sure. But generally they don’t bother us unless we bother them. My little brother got bit a Pygmy Rattlesnake once. They’re especially dangerous because they’re so small, you don’t hear the rattle until they’re up on you!”

Madeleine looked rather faint to Trixie’s alarm at that point.

“Hey I didn’t mean to scare you!”

“I don’t like snakes,” Madeleine said. “How do you know all this?”

“One of my older brothers makes it a point to learn everything he can about the land. And everything else for that matter. He’ll take over the farm eventually,” Trixie replied.

“How many brothers do you have?” Madeleine asked eagerly.

“Three,” Trixie sighed, “and I’d gladly give you one if you like!”

Madeleine smiled. “I wish I had one. I’m an only child and it’s awfully lonely.”

“I would enjoy it,” Trixie said firmly. “At least for a while. Bobby’s awfully cute. Mart is just a pest but Brian is real nice. Why don’t you come by the farm later and I’ll introduce you?”

“Oh I would love to!” Madeleine’s hazel eyes were shining. “But I have to hurry back home now.”

“Your place is over that way. Follow that trail, it’ll take you right towards your stables. To get to our place, just take the main road that runs by you to the big oak, and when it forks, go left. You’ll know it by all the big trees. In the distance you should be able to see the wheat fields,” Trixie told her.

“Oh it sounds wonderful! I shall call on you very soon, if not tonight!”

Trixie watched with envy at the graceful mount Madeleine had, and waved to her new friend. Smiling, she continued on her way towards Di’s, thoughts of the dark haired man temporarily gone.










***

Author’s Notes
- A huge thank you to Julie, my editor!
- Crabapple trees grow quite well in OK, surprisingly enough.
- no copperheads in OK but the Diamondback Rattle and Pygmy Rattle are very real.
- Word Count, 2,091

Disclaimer: Trixie Belden® is a registered trademark of Random House books. These pages are not affiliated with Random House Books in any way, shape or form. No profit is made here, only entertainment. Images of Trixie Belden and other series characters are copyright © Random House books. Fenton Hardy is copyright © Simon and Schuster. Real life characters such as Alan Pinkerton belong to history. All references and characters and are used lovingly and respectfully, albeit without permission. All non-Trixie Belden characters belong to AmazonWitch,Inc.

This website is © 2005-2025 Mal. All rights reserved. All graphics created by Mal and may not be used without permission.