Tempting Fate

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic!

Chapter Twenty-Five

Her headlights sliced through the darkness. He didn't have any outside lights on. She pulled her car next to Jim's truck and turned off the engine. Her eyes surveyed the house. No lights were on. That meant he was in his workshop. "Probably the only place he could hide from his thoughts," she correctly guessed. She understood Jim. With a small smile, she grabbed her purse and stepped out of the car, prepared to do her worst. She squared her thin shoulders and headed towards the workshop on firm feet, her mission well in hand.

The loud rock music booming through the building hit her steps away from the workshop. "Goodness, Jim, why don't you turn it down a bit?" She opened the door, mildly surprised that it wasn't locked. She wouldn't have put it past him to try and bar anyone's entrance into his sanctioned kingdom. She stepped into the garage. The lights were on, flooding the place, and the music was mixed with the sound of his power saw. The smell of fresh cut wood attacked her nose, as it always did when she visited him here. He was hunched over a table, carefully cutting a piece of wood, while sawdust flew up in the air. She stood for a long moment, wondering if he would notice her, but of course he did not.

"All right, then, sweet brother of mine, the hard way." She quickly located the sound system that was currently sending mini vibrations through her body. It was a relief when she cut it off.

He glanced up the second the music died, his eyes confused behind his safety goggles. The firm set of his mouth didn't prove too welcoming. "Honey," he greeted her slowly, stripping off his gloves and his goggles. He took an extra long time making sure his saw was turned off and wrapped its cord carefully around it.

She realized why it was taking him so long and stood, her arms crossed and her foot tapping. She could wait him out. If it took all night, she would wait him out. She wasn't going to let him push her out.

"You're not going away, are you?" he called out, positive she hadn't gotten his message. He bit back a sigh. He didn't feel up to company right now, especially the type of company she had in store for him. He much preferred his thoughts, dark though they may be.

"Nope," she answered cheerfully. Taking his question as a welcome, she sauntered into the room, carefully skirting the different work benches and tables he had set up in the large room, and stopped by the wall that held all of his equipment. Each piece of equipment was suspended neatly and in its place, like trained little soldiers awaiting their battle plans from their general.

He replaced the power saw and then turned to her, eyes hooded, and no smile on his face. "What can I do for you, Honey?"

"The question is, what can I do for you?" she replied back with a sassy grin. She reached up and brushed the sawdust off of his shoulders. He jerked back from her touch but she persisted until all of the residue was gone. She had decided to try and keep things light on the way over, hoping that the tactic would be unexpected and allow her to cut through his already forming defenses.

"You know, Honey, it's getting late. If I remember correctly, you are pulling the early shift at the hospital tomorrow." He hoped that would make her leave. He was in no mood for any kind of conversation, let alone the kind that Honey wanted to dish out.

"I'm off tomorrow, actually," she replied with an easy grin. His groan wasn't disguised well and brought an answering merry twinkle to her eye. She could tell the exact moment when he realized there would be no avoiding her. "I finished up my four-day stretch today so I have three days off and all the time in the world." She motioned to the piece of wood he had been cutting and invited him to continue. "So go on. I can wait all night, if you'd like me to."

He grumbled something unintelligible under his breath. He couldn't work now anyway. "Fine. Have it your way." He stomped his way over to the corner that was his office and sat down in his computer chair, intentionally taking the most comfortable chair he had in the place. "Please, won't you join me?" The sarcasm could have broken glass.

"Why, I'd be delighted to!" Her forced cheer grated on his nerves, just as she hoped it would. Playing the game, she took an inordinate amount of time settling herself on the plastic lawn chair. "This is so comfortable, Jim! And I really love what you have done with the place. So rugged and woodsy. Do you have anything to drink?"

His eyes narrowed, slitted, but he didn't say anything this time. Reaching into the small refrigerator behind him, he pulled out a bottle of water and unceremoniously tossed it to her. "Just be careful you don't spill." He gestured towards the computer, printer and fax machine on the desk in front of her.

The childish part of her wanted to pretend to do just that, just to get his goat, but she trampled down on that particular wish. She had more important matters to attend to. Instead, she took a deliberate sip and set the bottle down at her feet, top back on. Primly, she folded her hands in her lap and began, "I bet you are wondering why I am here."

"The thought did cross my mind," he replied drily and with a sharp, pointed look at the clock. "It is rather late for a visit."

"Oh, it's never too late for your sister to drop in!" she responded gaily. She leaned forward, her hands on the desk, and stated in a loud stage whisper, "I bet you can't guess where I just came from."

"Manor House?" he answered, knowing that he wouldn't get any peace until she had said hers. He eyed her warily, the way a mouse would a snake, and waited for her to strike.

"No, silly!" She batted his arm and giggled at his answer. It was hard work but she kept the silly smile on her face. "I've been to Mart and Di's." Wide-eyed, deceptively innocent hazel eyes watched him, carefully gauging his reaction. "Most of the Bob-Whites were there," she supplied helpfully when he merely sat up a little straighter and didn't respond. "Except for you, of course." She motioned to the work area behind her. "Had to burn the midnight oil, huh?"

"Something like that." He didn't add that he was only trying to keep himself busy and his thoughts at bay. He tried not to notice the way she deliberately didn't mention Trixie's name.

"You always work so hard," she complimented him sweetly and batted her eyelashes at him. She felt foolish but she forged bravely on. "Good for you, Jim. We did miss you, though. Mart and Di, Brian and I, Dan and..." The pause was intentional. She tapped a manicured finger to her chin and asked herself, keeping her eyes away from Jim, "Now, let me see. Who else was there?"

It took a full minute but he finally gave in and gritted out, "Trixie." The name felt like a combination of heaven and hell on his lips.

She gifted him with a beautiful smile, delighted that he had helped out. "Of course! How could I have forgotten her? Although it has been a while since we've seen her, you know, what with the whole fake death thing and all." She arched a brow, waiting to see how he would react.

He blew out a frustrated breath and leaned back in his chair, prepared to take the bull, or in this case, his sister, by the horns. "All right, Honey. Do your worst. You can stop all this frilly lady of the manor stuff. Even though you were born to it, it really doesn't suit you and it's getting old quick. Just hit me with it."

"You got it." Her mouth curved into a satisfied smile, amazed that he had given in so quickly. She had planned on acting the simpering debutante for a while longer. The Cheshire cat would have been jealous. She steepled her hands together under her chin, being sure to level her gaze on him. "Tell me why you pulled the disappearing act this evening, Jim. I think I've got it figured out but I want to hear you say it."

He picked up a pencil, absently rolled it around. He had known it would be coming. He'd only wished he had a good night's sleep before it had. Oh, who was he kidding? He wasn't going to get any sleep tonight. Too many tortured images were floating around in his mind. "I saw the ring," he admitted in a low voice, being careful to keep his eyes on the floor.

"Yes, I thought so." She was prepared to give him no quarter or comfort until he had shared it all with you. She ruthlessly stomped down the sympathy that wanted to well up within her for her brother who was obviously in wallowing in his own pain and concentrated on the task at hand. "That would be why you didn't greet Trixie with Brian and Dan."

"When I first saw her, I couldn't move. It was like all the energy had been sucked out of me." He recalled the first feelings of euphoria, only to be quickly dashed with disappointment when his eyes fell on that thrice-damned ring. "And then I saw the wedding ring on her finger."

"Did you hear why she was wearing the ring?" Honey questioned him, pleased that her confrontation with him was going so well. It was good to have him opening up to her, even if she had practically pushed him to it. "Were you around when Trixie was sharing her story with us?"

"Of course," he bit out, uncomfortable in the line of questioning. Her unmoving gaze made him want to squirm. He clamped down on the urge and continued in the same low, gravely voice, "I heard her say that is was part of her cover, that she was masquerading as a widow in order to keep herself safe."

"Excellent. You must have been in the kitchen, correct?" At his nod, she resumed her attack. "That is exactly how I predicted things had gone for you. And then you heard the biggest bombshell of all. Trixie has a daughter."

He couldn't hide the answering pain in his eyes. Honey bit back a small gasp. It was clear to her that he hadn't considered the fact that Trixie's daughter was, in fact, his own. When he didn't say anything, merely looked at some nonexistent spot on the wall behind her, she tried a different tact and offered softly, "I met her little girl tonight at Mart and Di's."

Jim closed his eyes in resignation. He really didn't want to hear about it. "I bet she's beautiful." It hurt his throat to get the words out.

"Of course she is. She turned three about a month ago, in April." She threw that out there, hoping that Jim would do the mental math.

"Three?" he repeated obtusely. It still wasn't getting any clearer for him.

"Yes, three." Honey shook her ahead, amazed at the stupidity that had taken over her brother. She sat back in her chair, a dazed expression on her face. She couldn't help it. She had to wag her finger at him. "You know, for someone who aced biology and math in school and in college, you suck at biological math. Your teachers would be very disappointed."

Jim glared at her, unsure why she was insulting him. "What are you talking about?"

"Three years old," she stated, counting her fingers for good measure in case he hadn't gotten the point. "One, two, three. Get it? It's a simple number. Most preschoolers can count to it." When his glare only intensified, she gave up and tried a different route. "Trixie's been gone for what, nearly four years?"

"Three years, nine months, and twenty two days," he responded, rubbing a weary hand over his face. He knew the exact amount of days. It would have surprised him to know that Trixie kept track, too. "That comes out to one thousand, three hundred, and ninety days."

"You do know your math!" She hid her concern behind her brazen praise. With a small sigh, she continued, "Well, let's see then. If Lexie was born in April..."

His head whipped around. He hadn't heard that name before. "Lexie?" he rasped out.

"That is Trixie's little girl's name." She saw a small ray of hope flicker in her brother's eyes. Maybe he wasn't as dense on the matter as she thought. "Well, we're back to birthdates, right? I'll do some mental math since biological math is not your strongest subject. Lexie was born the April after Trixie disappeared. If we go back nine months...that would be March, February, January, December, November, October, September, August...ah, July!" She grinned triumphantly at her brother. "It seems to me that little Lexie would have to have been conceived in late July of that year. I would have been in Europe with our parents and it would have been right before we started back to college." She tapped her polished fingernail on the desk. "Now I wonder who Trixie would have been with at that time..."

The hope broke through the fog that had surrounded his brain. "She's mine?" he managed to get out past the sudden large lump in his throat.

Honey held up her hand, continued on as if she hadn't heard him. "I only got to play with her for a little bit this evening. It was almost bedtime by the time I got over to the house. She has beautiful blonde curls, the cutest little dimples." She brought her eyes back to her brother's, leveled them on him like twin dueling pistols. "And the biggest, brightest, emerald green eyes you have ever seen."

And he felt foolish for the thoughts that had rampaged through him. He dropped his head in his hands. "Oh, good Lord," he managed to get out.

Honey finally took pity on him. She scooted her chair around the desk and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Her voice was quiet as she offered, "Her name is Alexis Kathryn, called Lexie for short. Trixie gave her Kathryn in honor of your mother." She laid her head on his shoulder.

He let the news sink in, thinking of a little girl slumbering only a mile or so away. His little girl. And then he thought of the mother. An ugly grimace crossed his face. He hadn't handled things well. She had every right to despise him. "She must hate me," he whispered in growing horror.

Honey smiled up at him, fresh tears glinting in her eyes. "No, not at all, Jim. I made her talk about it, too, you see. We pieced together the evening very quickly and came up with your reactions. We were very accurate, of course. There's nothing quite like the former Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency in action." She patted herself on the back and then added, a little apologetically, "I'm sorry but I had to tell her how much her 'death' affected you, too. I'm sure you would rather have kept it private or told her yourself. She knows how much it hurt you, what it cost you. Once I did that, I think she understood where you were coming from and why you reacted the way that you did. She's not mad at you and she certainly doesn't hate you."

"Thank you, I guess." His mind was still having a hard time grasping it. "So, when she went into the Program, she was pregnant. She had to go through all of that on her own, plus have a baby by herself." The magnitude of it hit him like a tone of well-placed bricks.

"I knew she was pregnant," Honey told him softly. She touched his hand, made him jump, and then she admitted, "Trixie told me about the condom. That day she left us I made her take a test. You don't need me to tell you but it was positive."

"We would have been married in September," he recalled wistfully. "If none of this had happened, we would have been together through it all." He ran his hands through his hair, sending the red locks out in different directions.

"Well, we can't change the past or what fate or destiny has in store for us," Honey replied sagely. "But we can make sure the future moves in the right direction. I can tell you that Trixie is going to bring Lexie to meet both sets of grandparents tomorrow. She's starting at Crabapple Farm and then heading up to the Manor House. She'll stop here late tomorrow afternoon. You can have them over for dinner."

God, but he liked the sound of that. "Tomorrow?" he repeated.

"See, Trixie doesn't hate you." Honey reached into her purse and pulled out a wallet-sized picture. "This is for you. I stole it from Trixie's purse." She laid it face down on the desk and gave her brother a great big hug.

"Thank you, Honey," he murmured in her ear. He eyed the picture but decided to wait until he was alone to look at it. "You have no idea what you have done for me."

"I think I do," she mumbled back, pleased with her evening's work. Trixie and Jim had a bit of a road ahead of them but Honey was confident she had set both of them on the right path. They would travel it together. "Have a good night!" With a whirl she was gone.

The room seemed empty after she left. And the picture on the desk seemed to be calling out to him. His fingers trembled a bit as he reached for it and he needed a moment to compose himself. Turning it over gingerly, he looked and promptly fell in love. It must have been her latest birthday picture. April, Honey had said. Lexie was dressed in a fancy blue dress, white tights, and gleaming black shoes. Her hair was piled high up on her head, tied with a matching blue bow that had tilted to the side. A few tendrils escaped to caress her cheeks and her shoulders. A large smile adorned her cherubic face. And the eyes. The green eyes Honey spoke about stared back at him, lively and full of mischief. He studied the little girl for a long time, taking in all the details, and felt a healing steal over his rather jagged heart. He didn't feel the answering wide smile that was on his face.