Chapter 22:

The Porridge Meter

"Don't give me that. I wasn't born yesterday," Ms. Camille spat, jumping down from the forklift. "Let's try this again. And this time, I want the truth."

The peeved woman had Trixie and Honey backed into a corner. And as she reached out and pulled Miss Belden forward, Ms. LeBlanc's long, pointed nails dug into the girl's arm.

The tigress in Trixie wanted to scratch Ms. Camille's all-seeing eyes out. But the detective in the girl was too focused on Ms. LeBlancs' pursed lips. There was no trace of lipstick on them, but the mouth of the water bottle in the cup holder attached to the forklift's frame was rimmed in shocking pink.

"What's the matter, cat got your tongue?" Ms. Camille continued, causing Honey to shrink further behind her bolder friend. "If local rumors are true, I bite. So why don't you save us both a little trouble? Hmm?"

Uncle Sam had introduced his ex-wife to the girls, so Ms. LeBlanc knew who the New Yorkers were and why they were in town. But the conversation hadn't gone much beyond hello—though Ms. Camille had mentioned that she'd seen the young ladies at Swamp Mama's.

But Trixie didn't trust Ms. LeBlanc—especially now that she'd spied the lipstick-stained bottle. "We'll tell if you open bay," she bargained nervously, glancing about for another means of escape. There was a door that led to the processing facility, but it was shut and padlocked.

Ms. Camille smirked and tossed her streaked black mane over one shoulder with a swing of her head. She was still gripping Trixie's arm and wasn't going to let go until she got what she wanted. "It's too hot," she returned coolly. "We wouldn't want the gators to spoil, would we? No, I think we'll keep it shut for now."

Honey was growing frantic and colder by the minute. "Trixie, just tell her already," she begged desperately. "If you don't, I will."

But the curly-haired girl had no intention of coming clean. And she wasn't about to let her friend do so either. Ms. Camille wasn't the only one who knew how to bite.

Miss Belden then sank her teeth into the hand, clenching her arm, and stomped on Ms. Camille's foot. As Ms. LeBlanc emitted a furious howl and released her grip, Trixie shoved the woman aside and made a dive for the lifter.

Locating the button that opened the bay, Miss Belden again ordered her honey-haired friend to run. But as the heavy door slowly began to rise, and Trixie made a break for it, Honey let out a scream.

Ms. Camille had caught Miss Wheeler in her attempt to flee and was now pinning her in a choke-hold. As the poor girl struggled to break free, the angry woman tightened her arm, causing Honey to cry out again. And Trixie spun on her heels.

"Had enough?" Ms. LeBlanc snapped as Miss Belden rushed up, hoping to pry the lady's sinewy arm from around her friend's neck. Mrs. LeBlanc may have been trim but was deceptively strong and tenacious.

Honey's hazel eyes were filled with tears as she nodded up and down. "We're trying to catch the poacher who's been stealing Papa LeBlanc's alligators," she blurted. "We didn't mean any harm, Ms. LeBlanc."

As Ms. Camille eyed Trixie for confirmation, the teenager cried, "That's the honest to God Truth, Ms. LeBlanc! So please, please, let Honey go!" Trixie then went on to explain how she and her partner had been looking for beasts with discolored gums.

At last satisfied, the hard-edged woman released her stronghold on Honey and then calmly folded her arms. "There now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" she asked. "My Benny told me you've been trying to figure out who's been messing with people's lines. So tell me. Did you find any suspicious gators?" Miss Camille smiled, revealing faint nicotine stains on her otherwise sparkling teeth.

Gulping, the nervous sleuths exchanged glances, knowing they were caught between a rock and a hard place. If Ms. LeBlanc was involved in the crime, telling her about the gator with the pink drool could be dangerous. On the other hand, if the girls showed Ms. LeBlanc the animal, she could tell them who'd sold it.

When neither young lady immediately responded, Uncle Sam's ex went on, "I'd sure like to get my hands on that no-good son of a gun. Whoever is behind the vandalism has been robbing us blind. Business has been down nearly thirty percent this year. True, the weather's been bad. But still… "

"Your business has been down?" Honey asked with surprise. If the alligator thief or thieves had sold the stolen gators to T's, the family's business wouldn't have been so significantly impacted.

Ms. Camille retrieved her water bottle from the forklift. Taking a swig of the liquid inside, she contorted her face as she swallowed it. The water was hot and stale from being in the vehicle all day. "Afraid so," Ms. LeBlanc returned once she'd wet her whistle. Terrance is convinced the thieves are coming up from St. Mary's Parish and then selling the gators to a buyer down there. There's one establishment in particular that's got a pretty shady reputation."

Trixie narrowed her eyes suspiciously. She wondered if Ms. Camille was trying to throw the girls off her scent. If the young ladies had indeed located a stolen gator, whoever had taken it had sold it to the LeBlancs. Still, Miss Belden had picked up on some uncertainness in the woman's voice.

"Is that what you think is going on?" Trixie threw to the wind.

"What does it matter what I think?" Camille returned just as randomly.

Only suddenly, what Ms. Camille thought mattered very much to Trixie. She was now certain Ms. LeBlanc disagreed with her husband. Miss Belden decided to show Papa's one-time daughter-in-law, turned sister-in-law, the alligator the girls had found. The teenager was sure it would blow the young lady's case wide open.

But unfortunately, it was Trixie's bubble that burst.

"That little thing?" Ms. Camille laughed as the girls pulled back the tarp and pointed out the gator in question. "No one in their right mind would steal a gator that small. Why, Robert Robert was embarrassed to have brought it in. It was a waste of a good tag."

"Mr. Robert brought it in?!" Trixie and Honey cried in unison.

"Are you certain?" Miss Wheeler asked as Ms. Camille swung into the seat of the forklift.

"You didn't look at the tag," her partner added.

Ms. Camille chuckled as she started up her vehicle. "I don't need to check the tag," she said. "I'm the one who purchased that gator from Bob. It's missing a hind rear leg. I felt bad I couldn't give him more for it. Trust me, Bob's no alligator thief." Trixie and Honey had failed to notice that a bigger beast had snacked on the creature.

"But I don't understand?" Honey mused aloud as she chewed on the tip of her hair. "How did Mr. Robert end up with one of Mart and Maxine's alligators? The animal definitely has a pink mouth."

"My guess is that it either slipped your friends' line or whoever has been cutting lines threw the pathetic thing back once they got a good look at it. Bob was just unfortunate to be the one who ended up catching it," Mrs. LeBlanc answered.

Trixie hadn't considered those possibilities, and she openly scolded herself.

"Yeah, well, don't feel bad," Camille told her. I thought you were onto something, too. So I'll tell you what. I'll keep my eyes open. And if I find any suspicious gators, I'll tell Benny, and he can relay the message to you. But you have to promise that you won't be sneaking back in here without permission. Do we have a deal?"

Trixie and Honey grinned. "Deal," the girls agreed.

Ms. LeBlanc then ordered the Sleepyside sleuths to skedaddle, and as Miss Belden and her friend started for the buying area, they heard the bay door closing behind them. Ms. Camille was determined to keep the young ladies out of the cooler. Apparently, the woman suspected the girls would break their word.

"I don't think I trust Ms. Camille," Trixie told Honey as the two walked along. "As soon as we get a chance, we'll ask Uncle Harold if he and Mr. Robert caught any gators that were missing limbs today. Ms. Camille may be covering up for someone, Honey."

Honey nodded. "That idea occurred to me, too," she admitted. "I don't think I like Ms. LeBlanc very much, Trixie. She's not at all like I thought she'd be."

As it began to sprinkle Miss Belden stepped up pace. The cool raindrops felt good on her skin, but she didn't want to get her dress wet. "How so?" she asked her partner.

"Well," Honey began slowly as they ducked under cover of the metal canopy, "after hearing about Uncle Sam's affair and the couple's divorce trial, I must admit I felt sort of sorry for Ms. LeBlanc. I pictured her as some kind of victim. But I don't think she is. Ms. Camille can be very manipulative when she wants to be. She went from being our worst enemy to our best friend awfully fast, don't you think?"

"Agreed," Miss Belden admitted. "Plus, indications are she smokes and wears pink lipstick. That means Ben's mom could be mixed up in whatever is going on at Anglers' Landing with the bait meat."

Honey stopped and glanced about for Uncle Harold. But Mr. Robert's truck and trailer were gone from the parking lot. The men had apparently called it a day. "After Lt. Hebert's call with Josette, I'm positive you overheard Bernie talking to Ms. Camille the other night, too, Trixie. Only I don't know how it all fits together."

"Yeah, neither do I," her friend replied. "And what worries me, Honey? Is that if we do figure out what's going on, we can't exactly go Sheriff Theriot with it—not if he's somehow mixed up in this mess."

Honey shivered. "I hadn't thought of that," she admitted.

"Thoughta what?" Hallie asked, loping up. She and Ben had arrived at the buyer's while the girls had been trapped in the refrigerator bay – as had Mr. Belden and Uncle Zach.

"Oh, nothing important," Trixie told her nosy cousin. "Shouldn't you be helping Ben unload the gators you caught, Hallie?"

The tall girl stifled a yawn. "Ah, he's got plenty of help," she returned. "Cap and Beau have the boat practically emptied. Besides, Ben's been riding me all day, and I'm gettin' tired of it. Partnerin' with Papa is gonna be a whole lot more fun, let me tell ya. He's a hoot when we're out huntin'." With the young lady's grandfather back in the saddle, the deckhand rotation was about to become a thing of the past. But that didn't mean Trixie and Honey had canceled their plans to check out Aunt Izzy's place and Gator Gardens on Friday. The girls would just go without Miss Flip-Flop.

"Maybe if you hadn't stayed out so late, Ben wouldn't on your case," the New York Miss Belden remarked.

Hallie grimaced and gave Trixie a roll of her bloodshot blackberry eyes as she changed the subject. "So ya wanna tell me what's up with the girlie stuff, Cuz?" she asked.

The curly-haired girl was tempted to tell Miss Sugar-Pops the truth, but instead, she gave Hallie the excuse she'd been giving everyone else. "My jeans were dirty," Trixie said.

And Hallie hee-hawed like a donkey. "Yeah, sure," she returned, snapping her cousin's shoulder strap. "You forget who you're talkin' to, Cuz. You're like me. You'd put on a pair of Mart's ol' grubbies before you'd put on a dress. What's really up, Cuz?"

Honey winced and suggested her best friend take the honest route. But the Sleepyside Miss Belden had let her pesky cousin get under her skin. "If you want the truth, Hallie?" Trixie exploded. "I'm sick and tired of living in your long-legged shadow. Jim's been paying more attention to you than he has been to me lately. And I thought maybe he might notice me for a change if I got dressed up." Once the words had tumbled out, Trixie realized they were the truth. She'd been using Beau as her excuse to wear the dress.

And that's when Hallie grew strangely quiet. "Sounds like you and I have similar problems," she said after a moment. "Any luck, Cuz?" she went on curiously.

And Trixie flushed. "I think maybe so," she admitted.

There was much to celebrate at dinner that evening. Papa LeBlanc was again sitting at the head of the adult table. And as his family and guests gathered around, the proud patriarch raised a toast to his captains and their crews. Together, the hunters had filled over one hundred tags!

"A couple more days like today, and we'll be tapping out!" Papa optimistically predicted as Trixie, Honey, and Dan served up the nightly meal.

Only refilling Papa's glass, Trixie was a bit more pessimistic. She thought Mr. LeBlanc ought to be knocking on wood. There was still a gator thief at large, after all, not to mention that cannibal critter Houdini. Either one could ruin the family's season in a heartbeat.

But Trixie's dark outlook only strengthened her determination to nab the poacher plaguing Bayou Chevrette. Much to the young sleuth's frustration, Uncle Harold had told Miss Belden and her partner that he and Mr. Robert had caught the beast with the missing leg. So, investigating the cooler at T.'s proved to be a dead-end.

But Detective Belden held onto the hope that the girls would turn up something helpful at Aunt Izzy's. They just had to. The girls were out of time.

Tropical Storm Diana had grown into a category 2 hurricane, with wind speeds topping ninety-seven miles per hour! The dangerous storm was still on its destructive course, and the weather station had issued high wind and heavy rain advisories for Monday.

Worse, Papa was insisting that he was going to stay at Anglers' Landing and ride out the hurricane.

"I'm not gonna leave my home!" he bellowed as Uncle Harold commented that his father-in-law should start packing his bags for Idaho. "If anyone tries to force me out, I'm gonna let them have it," Mr. LeBlanc added, raising an imaginary shotgun.

"Oh, Lucas, you don't mean that," Trixie heard Hallie's father reply. "You stayed with us during the last hurricane. Don't you recall? You said Ollie's cooking was so good you didn't want to leave. No disrespect to your cooking, Liz," Uncle Harold quickly added to the lady on his right.

But Papa had his mind made up. He was staying in Louisiana. And to Trixie's disbelief, Aunt Renee actually sided with her stubborn father. "We can't make him come with us if he doesn't want to, Harold," she said.

"But Renee, he's your father?" Trixie's Uncle returned.

Aunt Renee simply grimaced and said, "Oh, Harold. Don't be such a panty-waist. Papa will be fine."

Just as alarming, as the Sleepyside girl was refilling Uncle Zach's water glass, she overheard Papa's oldest son tell his wife that if his father did refuse to evacuate, he'd be on the horn, calling the men with the white coats to cart the old fool off. Trixie would later tell Honey that Uncle Zach had sounded dead serious.

But as Miss Belden prepared to top off Aunt Renee's drink, the woman laid her hand on Trixie's father's arm. "Your daughter looks absolutely adorable this evening, Peter," Aunt Renee said. "Just like a little Helen. Why all she needs is a flowery apron."

That's when the spitfire in the sunny sundress lost her cool. Trixie had had enough of Aunt Renee's slights and poured the pitcher of ice water directly into the woman's lap!

As Hallie's mother shrieked, Mr. Belden covered his smirk with his napkin.

"Gleeps, Aunt Renee, I'm so sorry," Trixie said, sounding saccharine sweet. "And after all those nice things you were saying about me. I'll go fetch a towel," she added.

Mart, meanwhile, had been snickering. But as his irked sister passed by, the amused young man began coughing.

"Oh, Mart, are you alright?" Honey asked as she delivered the last of the dinner bowls of gumbo and slipped into the empty seat next to the boy's.

Beau had been reserving the spot for Trixie, and the New York Miss Belden sighed with relief. Jim had been saving a place for the young lady, too. And she'd been fretting over which one to take.

Only coming back from the office with the towel for Aunt Renee, Miss Belden discovered there were bigger worries than the silly seating arrangement. Her brother hadn't stopped coughing, and now he complained of being achy.

"I didn't want to say anything earlier, but I've been under the weather all day," Mart said without his usual fancy words. "I don't think I'm going to be able to go gator hunting tomorrow," he added before going into another string of concerning hacks.

Aunt Liz and Daddy were immediately at Trixie's brother's side.

"At least he doesn't feel feverish," the motherly woman told Peter as she felt the young man's forehead. "I've been worried that one of you would come down with the croup. What your son needs is plenty of rest and ginger tea. Hopefully, we caught the virus in time."

Aunt Liz then helped Mart to his feet. "You go crawl into bed, young man," she ordered. "I'll call Mrs. Robert and be over with your supper shortly. Do you need your father to walk you to your cabin?"

"No, Aunt Liz, I'll be fine," the boy assured her. "You stay here and enjoy your dinner, Dad," he added.

Mart then apologized to Mr. LeBlanc. "Gleeps, Sir," he said, rubbing his sandy crew cut. "I'm sorry to leave you in a lurch. But maybe my sister can fill in for me, tomorrow? You wouldn't mind, would you, Trix?"

Trixie couldn't believe her ears! Was she actually getting a chance to go alligator hunting?! "Oh, I wouldn't mind at all! I'd love to go!" she cried excitedly. "But I don't know how to shoot? And I don't have a license?"

Maxine grinned. "You're not old enough to handle the rifle," she told the enthusiastic girl. "But you'd make an a-one deck hand, Trixie. I could have you licensed and certified by breakfast. That's part of my job," Max finished.

Trixie rushed up to her father. "Oh, Daddy, please, please, may I go?!" she begged. "I'll be very careful. And I'll do everything Maxine tells me to."

Mr. Belden felt like a heel. "I'm sorry, Kitten," he said. "But your mother made it very clear you weren't to go hunting."

The Sleepyside girl had been expecting the bitter pill, but it didn't make it easier to swallow. "But Daddy," she wailed in protest, "It may be the only chance I ever get!"

That's when Aunt Renee piped up, "Oh, Peter, let the girl go, all ready. Your daughter will be perfectly safe. You know Helen's being overprotective."

But Daddy didn't budge. "No," he told the hopeful young lady.

Aunt Renee snorted, sounding a whole lot like Hallie. "I guess we know who wears the pants in that family," she told her husband. "I wouldn't be surprised if Helen's got your brother wearing one of those flowery aprons, Harold."

Peter Belden bristled and got up from his seat. "Why should our household be any different than yours, Renee?" he returned, eyeing a sheepish Harold. "Come on, Mart. Let's get you back to the cabin."

After her father and brother left, Trixie went to the kitchen for a cold soda. The young lady needed some alone time. She needed to work through her disappointment at not being allowed to go hunting. Trixie had made the mistake of getting her hopes up.

So, grabbing a can of root beer out of one of the ice chests, the moping girl then plopped atop the cooler's lid, trying to convince herself that she really had no interest in wrestling alligators. "Who needs blistered hands and aching muscles?" Trixie thought, opening her drink. Besides, she and her partner had a mystery to solve. Miss Belden didn't have time to be off filling tags.

Trixie hoped Mart would be OK. If her goofy brother got too sick, Daddy would call Mr. Wheeler, and it would be bye-bye Bayou Chevrette. The New Yorkers would be going home, and she and Honey would be forced to abandon their investigation.

But rubbing her dripping soda can across her forehead, Trixie decided one unsolved mystery wouldn't be the end of the world. Why even the great Sherlock Holmes had unsolved cases. It was bound to happen to the girls eventually.

Only who was she kidding? Detective Belden wanted to nab that rotten poacher so bad her teeth hurt. And as far as gator hunting went? Oh, what Trixie wouldn't give to catch Houdini and strut around in gator skin boots in front of Miss Flip-Flop! "I'd show you who the real princess of the Bayou is, Hallie Belden!" Trixie muttered.

"And who might that be?" Beau chuckled, coming seemingly out of nowhere. It wouldn't be you, would it, Goldilocks?"

The pretty girl sighed. "Only in my dreams," she admitted.

Mr. Benoit snagged a peach from the fruit bowl on the butcher's block and sat down next to the young lady. "I don't know about that," he said. "You're already dressed for the part, Goldilocks. You clean up real nice, by the way."

Trixie snorted and made a face -so much for her plan to scare the boy off. "Thanks," she said dryly.

"No, I mean it," Beau went on after taking a bite of the juicy fruit. "Sugar-Pop's Mom needs to learn to keep her opinions to herself. But I agree with her on one point. You do look awful cute today. You're the whole package, Goldilocks."

And that's when the last thing Trixie was expecting to happen happened. Beau Benoit bent down and gave the unsuspecting girl a kiss. Only it wasn't just any kiss. It was Trixie's first kiss. And it was right smack dab on the lips.

Initially, Miss Belden was too stunned to do anything. Why she didn't even blush. She just stared at the young man as if nothing had happened. Trixie was in total disbelief. She'd always thought Jim would be the first boy to kiss her. And that's when Miss Belden's cheeks started to burn. How dare the young Cajun take that away from her!

"Why did you have to go and do that?!" the outraged girl exclaimed. "I thought Hallie was supposed to be your special girl, Beau? Honestly, do you go around kissing all the girls?"

Beau laughed and tossed the peach's pit into the yard. He was clearly enjoying himself. "How else am I going to know which bowl of porridge is just right?" he said in self-defense. "Everybody's got a porridge meter, Goldilocks."

"Well, I don't," Trixie insisted.

"Ah, sure you do," the unapologetic Cajun went on. "The way I see it, you've got yourself three bears, Goldie. And I'd like to know where I rank on your meter. Somewhere between Slick-too-hot and Red–too–cold? Maybe what you need is another sample of porridge to help you decide."

Trixie shuddered. She didn't plan to let Beau kiss her again. "NO, Mr. Benoit," the lady said firmly. "I've had enough of your porridge. So, if you'll excuse me? I'm going to go eat my dinner before it gets too cold."

As the heated girl stood to leave, Beau rose and gently took her by the arm. "Are you sure, Goldie? Because I don't know what it is with you? But I find you just right," Mr. Benoit admitted, searching Trixie's eyes.

"The young lady said, 'NO'," came a stern masculine voice from outside the kitchen.

As Trixie and Beau glanced up, Dan Mangan folded his arms, and Hallie took off running.

"Easy, Slick," Mr. Benoit said as he backed away from Miss Belden with his palms up. "I was just making sure I heard the lady right. Don't worry. I understand the word 'no.'"

"Make sure that you do," Dan growled.

Beau then gave Trixie a two-fingered salute goodbye. And as he was pushing past Mr. Mangan, on his way back to the shelter house, the young man laughed, "Good luck with that one, Slick."

Once Beau was out of earshot, a very embarrassed Trixie said, "Thank goodness you showed up when you did, Dan. Did you and Hallie hear much?"

"More than enough," Dan admitted with a grunt. "When Mr. Porridge Meter disappeared from the table shortly after you did, Hallie took off to find him. I suspected there might be trouble, so I followed. I found Hal spying on you from the bushes over there."

"So you decided it might be fun to spy along with her," Trixie said, catching an attitude.

"Hey, you're just lucky I'm not Frayne," Dan replied. "You don't dig Beau, do you, Trix? I saw you flirting with the guy at the buyer's this afternoon."

Trixie's hands flew to her mouth. "Jim didn't see, did he?" she gasped.

Dan grimaced and shook his head. "No, he was too wrapped up," he admitted.

Trixie emitted a "whew" of relief. "Thank goodness," she said. "Believe you me, Dan. I have no interest in Beau Benoit. In fact, I've been trying to drive the horrible toad off. Di thinks he's the kind of guy who likes girls who play hard to get. So we thought…"

Mr. Mangan groaned and cut his friend off. "Ah, come on, Trix," he said. "When did you start listening to Di? I may not think much of Beau. But from what I've seen, the guy's really into you. You should have been straight with him. You know better than to be messing with his feelings."

Trixie crumpled up her soda can and tossed it into the recyclable bin. "Mr. Benoit doesn't have any feelings," she harrumphed.

"Sure he does," Dan objected. "All guys have feelings. They may not wear them on their sleeve like you girls do, but that doesn't mean they don't have them. You've got three brothers. You should know that better than anyone, Trix."

Trixie frowned. Maybe Dan was right? Still, it was hard to take a guy like Beau, who played the field, seriously. "But you don't understand. He wouldn't leave me alone, Dan," she said in self-defense. "I had to try something."

"Look," Mr. Mangan went on earnestly. "I'm not one to preach. But what would you have done if I hadn't interrupted and Beau had tried to take things further?"

Trixie rolled her eyes. She'd had her fill of the conversation. "Like you said, Dan," she replied snippily. "I've got three brothers. I know where to put my knee."

Mr. Mangan went for a soda. He then shook it up and popped the top in the direction of the flippant young lady. As Trixie cried out and jumped back from the sticky spray, Dan said, "OK, Miss Smarty-pants. That might work if the guy was right in front of you. But what if Beau was behind you?"

Going for a damp paper towel to wipe up the mess the boy had made, Trixie admitted she wasn't quite sure what she'd do.

"I didn't think so," Dan said, taking a swig of what was left of his drink. "You need to be more careful, Trixie. You're small and pretty; if you keep putting yourself in bad situations, you better know what to do. Not all guys are nice guys who understand the word no. I think Beau does. But you can't take that chance when you're alone with someone. So promise me, when we get back to Sleepyside, you, Honey, and Di will sign up for Spider's self-defense class. He holds one for women on Saturday mornings at the rec center."

Feeling sheepish, Trixie promised. Knowing how to protect herself was proving vital in more ways than one. Things would have gone better with Ms. Camille if Miss Belden had known how to do more than bite and kick.

"Good. I'm going to hold you to it," Dan said, heading for the cupboard next to the grill. "Now go find Hallie and try to convince her to come back to dinner. I promised Aunt Liz I'd get some plastic boxes for Mart and Papa's food."

"Papa's food?" Trixie exclaimed with surprise. "Is he feeling unwell, too, Dan?"

The smirking boy chuckled. "No. But it's starting to get dark, and Mr. LeBlanc wants to get home before he turns into a Rougarou."

Trixie giggled and tossed the wad of paper towels she'd used to clean up the soda at her friend. "OK, so what's the real reason?" she asked.

Ducking, Dan shrugged. "Beats me," he admitted. "Papa said Uncle Harold was getting on his nerves, and he wanted to eat in peace. But who knows."

"Who knows indeed," Trixie thought, setting off to find the man's upset granddaughter.

"For the last time, Hallie Belden, I didn't kiss Beau, and I wasn't trying to steal him from you," Trixie said, full of frustration. He kissed me. So put down your duffel bag, and let's talk about this." The young lady had tracked her wayward cousin back to the girls' cabin. Hallie was packing her things, planning to move in with her father and Cap.

"Oh, right. So now ya wanna talk," Hallie spat, tucking her pillow under her arm.

Trixie grabbed the pillow and put it back on the convertible sofa. "What's that supposed to mean?" she shrieked.

"Like you don't know, Cuz," the Idaho girl growled. "Whenever I come around, you clam up and won't even talk to me. The whole reason I invited ya here was to help me with my boy problems."

Trixie hooted. "Help you with your boy problems?" she exclaimed with disbelief. You invited me here to get out of making beds and washing dishes, Hallie Belden. Honestly, what do I know about boys?"

Hallie grinned and collapsed on the arm of the sofa. "Apparently, less than I do, or ya wouldn't be wearing that dumb dress," she chuckled. But then, the dark-haired girl sobered. "What do you do to make Jim like ya so much?" Hallie inquired out of left field. "Despite what ya think, that lunkhead's only got eyes for you, Cuz."

"Do?" Trixie repeated. "I don't do anything, Hallie."

Hallie reached for the pillow and then threw it at the naive girl. "Geeze, Cuz. I mean, how far have ya gone?"

The Sleepyside Miss Belden's knees went weak, and she dropped into the nearest chair. "Jim and I haven't gone anywhere," she breathed uncomfortably. "I think you'd be better off talking to your Mom about this."

Hallie snorted. "Don't think I haven't," she said. "Mom's told me everything I need to know and made sure that I'm ready when the time comes. But how do I know when I'm ready, Cuz? I'm askin' 'cause you're the closest thing I've got to a big sister."

Trixie was both flattered and shocked. "Is Beau ready?" she ventured awkwardly. "He hasn't been pressuring you, has he, Hallie?"

The Idaho Miss Belden shook her head. "Beau hasn't done or said anything," she replied, much to her cousin's relief. "But he's a bunch older than me, and so are most of the girls he hangs out with. What happens if they're ready and I'm not?" Hallie was afraid of losing Beau.

"If Beau truly cares about you, he should respect your feelings and wait for you," Trixie replied. "If not, then maybe he's not the right boy for you, Hallie? Dan's a swell guy, and…"

"You can stop right there, Cuz," the Idaho girl interrupted. "Dan's a good kid and all. But I get the feelin' he's only interested in me 'cause you're off the market. Besides, the heart wants what the heart wants. That's why I'm wonderin' if I'm ready?"

Trixie wanted to crawl under the afghan, covering the deer's head. The discomforted girl wished everyone would stop suggesting that Dan had some kind of hidden crush on her. That idea was ridiculous.

But Trixie also understood where her cousin was coming from when she said the heart wanted what the heart wanted. Trixie's heart only wanted Jim.

"I'd say if you're questioning whether you're ready, then you aren't," she told Hallie. "Besides, you're awfully young, and I doubt you or Beau want to end up with any 'happy surprises', as Moms would say."

Hallie got up and went to the window. "You're right about that," she said, gazing at the slowly moving water. "Why does it have to be so confusin', Cuz?" she added wistfully.

"I don't know," Trixie returned. "It should be easy, but it's all so scary. At least you're prepared when the time comes. I'm afraid that when I'm ready, I won't have a clue what to do. When Moms and I talked, it was all about the birds and bees, with the story's moral being that good girls don't."

Hallie chuckled. "That sounds like Auntie. Sometimes, I wish Mom would just say no to stuff. It'd make my life a whole lot easier. Goin' to that party last night really kicked my tochus today. But I guess I had to learn some way that it wasn't smart."

Trixie thought about her own mother not allowing her to go alligator hunting. "Anytime you want someone to tell you 'no', feel free to call Moms," she told Hallie, groaning.

Hallie chuckled and slung her bag off her shoulder, deciding to stay. "Ditto with Mom," she said. " If ya need help knowin' what to do, Cuz, she's only a ring away. But I warn ya, you're bound to get an earful."

Trixie laughed. She had no doubt about that. But then the New York girl had a better idea. "I tell you what," she said. "What if I just call you instead, little sister? You can call me anytime, too, you know."

Hallie looked pleased. "Really?" she asked.

"Really," Trixie replied. "But I'm getting hungry. So what do you say we go finish dinner?"

The Idaho teenager agreed. But that's when the young ladies saw Mr. Belden coming up the walk. Trixie's father was rushing, and his daughter gulped. "Uh, oh! Something must be wrong with Mart!" she gasped, dashing for the door.

As Mr. Belden gave a knock, Hallie told her worried cousin to take a chill pill. "I'm sure your Dad's just comin' to check on us," she said. "Fuzz-head will be OK, Cuz."

But Trixie could tell from her cousin's voice that she was worried, too.

"Daddy, what's going on?" his daughter cried, letting her father in. "Are we going home? Has Mart taken a turn for the worse?"

"Easy, Kitten," Mr. Belden replied, smiling. "Your brother's doing fine. Mart's resting and eating like a horse."

"Then what brings ya here, Uncle Peter?" the Idaho girl asked.

"Hallie and I were on our way back to supper, Dad," Trixie added.

Mr. Belden grinned and herded the girls out the door. "That's good," he said. "Because you're going to need your strength tomorrow, young lady. You're going alligator hunting."

"What?!" Trixie exclaimed, freezing in her tracks. "But Moms said…"

"Your mother has changed her mind," Daddy laughed. "I called her from the cabin. And let's just say I don't think she'll be packing you any more dresses any time soon."