Dan was in his room at old Maypenny's. He was expecting a log cabin much as the one Lincoln was born in. Instead, he found a rustic but well-built house, cedar shakes that were hand-hewn, and a large porch with several Adirondack rockers.

About fifty feet away was the stable and barn. There was a small paddock, and Dan heard the nicker of a horse as they alighted from the truck. "That's old Spartan, welcoming us back home," Maypenny remarked. "Let me show you the house and your room."

The spacious inside impressed Dan, but he remained silent. Mr. Maypenny's furnishings were simple and sturdy. You could almost have fit the Brooklyn apartment in the kitchen alone.

"This here's your room, Dan." Mr. Maypenny opened the door to a nice-sized bedroom. There was a double bed with a wedding-ring quilt on it. "My mother made the quilt," he added, his voice quiet. There were a couple of watercolors of the preserve on the wall. "Helen Belden, one of our neighbors, painted the pictures. I made the furniture."

The room also contained a tall chest, nightstand, and a small desk and chair. "That door there is to your bathroom. There's also a door in the hall. My room is on the other side of the bathroom, and I have a separate bath area. You can put away your things, and I'll warm up some stew."

Dan didn't say anything. He wanted to. He wanted to say how amazed he was at the old man's skills. He wanted to like his room with the homey touches.

But it wouldn't be cool to do so.

After Mr. Maypenny left. Dan flopped down on the bed, stretching his arms and legs out. A real bed instead of a ratty sofabed. A spacious room, all his own.

Maybe this gig wouldn't be so bad after all.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Back in New York City, the borough of Brooklyn to be exact, on a street that not yet been gentrified, an older boy, not yet a man, was talking to a young girl sitting on a stoop. She was thrilled that one of the Cowhands was taking an interest in her. A gang member, the leader. Maybe she could become his girlfriend.

Luke Allred knew exactly the effect he was having on the girl. He knew exactly how to use her to get what he needed. Bitches were all alike. Give 'em a little flattery, look at them as if they were the most beautiful thing ever, and man, you could hit the jackpot. Sex, drugs, or in this case, information.

"… his mother told my mother that they were movin' to some little town upstate. She got a job at this horse place, but my old lady told me that Dan's mother is a city girl and what does she know about horses? I just think she was jealous. But Dan's gotta go live in the middle of a stupid forest with bears and stuff with some old geezer who is supposed to straighten him out. Like, he'll probly get ate by a bear or… or a deer or somethin'."

Luke reached out and played with one of the curls tangled around the girl's face. "Ya don't say." He rolled his eyes. Even he knew a person didn't get eaten by deer.

"Yeah, some big limo came to pick them up. Danny didn't look so happy, though. He tol' me to tell you if you came around he was goin' to someplace called… uh…"

Luke's fingers tightened around the curls, and he tugged. Hard. "Where did he go?" His voice didn't sound all soft and rumbly sexy as it did a minute ago. He sounded dangerous as a chill ran down her spine.

"Ow! That hurts!" She stopped her complaining when she saw the look in his eyes. Dead and black, like the fish her mother brought home sometimes. "Sleepyside. He went to Sleepyside."

Luke released her hair and charmed her again with a smile. "Thanks, Lucia."

She frowned at his back as he sauntered away, calling after him. "Mia. My name is Mia."

He shrugged his shoulders, not bothering to turn around. "Whatever."

xxxxxxxxxx

Spider Webster was thankful he didn't have to pull a double. He grabbed a cup of decaf and muffin from Wimpy's, scarfed it down and headed home. Tad would be getting up and ready for school, and Mrs. Vanderpoel would be bustling around the kitchen, getting breakfast ready. She knew he really didn't like to eat in the morning after night shift so it would be something nourishing for her and Tad.

The trip home didn't take long. Not long at all. He was tired but full of questions about Mary Pat Mangan. Not the is she a criminal type of questions, but more along the man and woman type of questions. Why did he take her so long to get in touch with Regan?

She had a different last name. Was she divorced? From a different dad? How did Matt Wheeler get involved in all of this? Where had she been all this time? Man, he was getting as bad as Trixie Belden and Honey Wheeler.

It had been a long time since he was interested in that way in a female. It wasn't that he wasn't looking, but the nature of his job had made it difficult to form a connection. Oh yeah, there were the badge bunnies, looking to latch on to anything in a uniform. All they wanted was the prestige of being a police officer's wife, and later, being a police officer's ex-wife.

His job, the danger, the odd hours, tons of overtime, and the fact that he had a younger brother who was his responsibility seem to scare the girls away. At least, the type of girl that he would want to get involved with.

There was something about that Mary Pat Mangan that just touched him. Maybe it was those greenish eyes, not as intensely green as Regan's or even Jim Frayne's, but arresting, nonetheless. They seemed to swirl with secrets and sadness. What had happened in her life to put that there?

He entered the kitchen, aromatic with the delicious breakfast Mrs. Vanderpoel was preparing. He leaned down to give her a kiss on her plump cheek and watched as his brother set the kitchen table for them both. She was good for Tad, a motherly influence more able to teach him social graces than a tired, crabby cop.

He cuffed Tad on the arm. "Be good in school today, little brother. Make me proud."

Tad gave him a light tap on the arm. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever." He rolled his eyes. His face softened as he looked at the man who was more parent to him than his real parents, whom he could barely remember. "Get some sleep, big brother." Grinning he continued, "Because you never know when that Trixie Belden is going to take your job."

Spider had to grin. "Take my job? She and Honey Wheeler will probably be running the entire state before they're 21."

A short while later, one hot shower and a waiting featherbed saw Spider crash with a grateful smile. Before sleep claimed him, he again wondered if that hot sister of Regan's was involved with anyone.

xxxxxxxx

Regan left long before Mary Pat awoke. They talked for a couple of hours, getting to know the adult versions of each other. While Regan was familiar with MP's past, the only things she knew about him were that he ran away from the orphanage and now he worked for the mega-wealthy Wheelers.

How did he get from there to here?

It wasn't easy, he explained. He hated the orphanage without her. Regan took off, working upstate at small family farms. In the year since MP left the orphanage with Tim Mangan, Regan grew and grew. It was easy for him to pass as eighteen.

He worked under the table, as they say; doing whatever had to be done, reacquainting himself with horses. They had been devastated when their family farm was destroyed by fire and the horses sold to pay debt. Like most small farms, their parents mortgaged it to the hilt.

"I ended up in Saratoga, MP," he explained. "Working with thoroughbreds."

"They should have called you the Horse Whisperer instead of that guy who they did. You always had a special connection with them."

"I guess so." Regan grinned. "You still remember how to ride?"

"It's like falling off a horse," she giggled. "I haven't been on a horse in years," she admitted, wistful.

"Well, we have plenty over at Manor House. And they all need regular exercise. I'll reintroduce you to the joys of riding."

"What about Danny? I wonder how he's doing, over at Mr. Maypenny's. I really miss him, Liam. I hope I made the correct decision."

"I have no problems teaching Dan. Honey is an experienced equestrian, but I've had to teach the rest of the kids how to ride. I know he's your son, MP, but really, you don't have to worry. Thomas Maypenny is the salt of the earth type of guy."

"What made you leave Saratoga and come here? I would think it would be more exciting taking care of thoroughbreds rather than being a groom, even for someone as nice as Mr. Wheeler."

Regan looked sad, then a spark of anger ignited in his eyes. "It's a long, not so nice story, MP. I was… I was accused of doping a racehorse. I did not do it. I would never, never administer drugs to an animal like that. They didn't have enough proof to prosecute me, and I didn't have enough proof to prove my innocence. But, I knew even the whisper of the scandal would kill my chances in the racing world. Matt Wheeler had met me a couple times. He was purchasing Manor House and building a stable. He asked me if I would come to work for him, and I agreed. Working for Mr. Wheeler has allowed me to pursue my dreams of getting a college education and someday being a partner with him in a breeding operation."

Mary Pat grew fierce. "Of course, you didn't do that, Liam! I'm surprised they thought it of you. You should go back and clear your name."

"Someday, MP."

"It seems like this Matt Wheeler has been an angel for us both."

"Yes, he has. He's an extremely generous man to those he cares about. I can't tell you how many times he's taken the kids on trips and such. Speaking of the kids, I want to take you around in a couple days to meet everyone. Dan will probably be hanging out with them once he gets settled in."

"Tell me about them." God. She hoped they would be a better influence on him than Luke Allred.

"Well, Mr. Wheeler has two children. Honey is about 14 years old and just as sweet as her name implies. Or nickname I should say. She's not one of those do-nothing heiresses. She knows how to cook and sew. James Winthrop Frayne the second is the son of the house. Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler adopted him. He is the son of one of Mr. Wheeler's childhood friends. He's a great guy, an expert horseman, and I think Dan will have a lot in common with him. He was orphaned at an early age. His father died of cancer, and his mother remarried this brute of a man. She also died of cancer two or three years later in the stepfather abused Jim unmercifully."

"Oh, the poor boy!"

"He eventually ran away and found his way to Sleepyside. There was a whole lot of intrigue going on but suffice it to say he ended up being the heir to a fortune."

"I think I read about that in the papers."

"Yes, it was a rags to riches story. You don't hear too much about it anymore because neither Honey nor Jim are the kind of kids to flaunt their wealth. Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler consider Jim their son just as much as Honey is their daughter."

"And the rest of the kids?"

"Crabapple Farm sits in another hollow not too far from Manor House. Peter and Helen Belden have four children. Brian is the eldest boy, about a year older than Jim, even though they're in the same grade. He's a great kid, wants to be a doctor more than anything else in the world. Very responsible and honorable. Then there's Mart, he's 15. He's the joker of the bunch, and we all think he may have swallowed a dictionary at some point. Loves big words! The youngest son is Bobby; he's around six or seven and regularly gets into all kinds of innocent trouble. He is a scamp. Finally, there's Trixie. She's 14 years old, pretty as a picture and as smart as a whip. She regularly leads the rest of the BWGs on adventures, and I have to be honest, some danger. She and Honey want to be detectives, and I tell you, I think their partnership will rival anything that Arthur Conan Doyle ever dreamed up for Sherlock Holmes."

"Oh, my, you would think there wouldn't be much going on around here to involve detectives."

"You'd be surprised! Jim Frayne and Trixie Belden are a thing. Of course, she's too young to date, but I wouldn't be surprised if they got married in the future. Sometimes, you just meet your soulmate at a young age. Rounding out the BWGs is Diana Lynch. Her parents are Ed and Sharon Lynch, also very wealthy. She has two sets of twins as brother and sister. Larry and Terry are about Bobby's age and just as much a terror as he is. The other set of twins are Arielle and Aurora. I always felt sorry for Mrs. Lynch, because, man, what a brood! Diana is gorgeous in a movie star sort of way. But she's as beautiful inside as she is outside, and she is definitely Mart's girl."

"Do you think they'll accept Dan? I mean, he was a member of a gang. He's probably done things that these kids wouldn't dream of. I hope their parents are accepting of him as well." MP bit her lip.

"Oh, I don't doubt that Trixie will be suspicious of him from the get-go. But once he proves himself, she'll be the best friend he ever had. The rest of them are not quite as wary. One of her brothers once remarked that she sees criminals lurking behind every tree. The problem as I see it, is that she's usually right!"

MP busied herself placing the coffee mugs in the sink. She wanted to ask her brother about Spider Webster but knew that he would tease her unmercifully. Instead, she asked about Tad Webster.

"What about that nice officer's brother, the one he spoke about last night?"

"Tad Webster? He's not a BWG. He's a good kid though. He'll be on the bus with the rest of them. I think he'll be accepting of Dan; he's another kid who lost his parents. Spider's done a good job with him. Now that they're living with Mrs. Vanderpoel, I know Spider is relieved that he doesn't have to leave his little brother in an empty house when he's on the night shift." Regan narrowed his eyes at his sister, adding a little fuel to the fire. "Spider needs to go out some, have some fun. He's been taking care of Tad since he was three years old. Spider missed out on all that wild and crazy stuff you get to do in your teens."

"Well, I hope he gets to do so." MP didn't add her other thought. She hoped he'd get to do so with her.

Her eyes widened, and her mouth bowed into an O. Now, where did that thought come from?

xxxxxx

He hated it.

Dan hated the school, the kids, the teachers.

He hated everything.

Mr. Maypenny drove him to school that first day, took him inside to the office, and dumped him there like a pile of trash. Everyone appeared all bright-eyed, helpful, and all looking like real dooshkabobs.

He'd never make it through the next two years here. He'd drown in a sea of milk, apple pies, and Chevrolets.

I'm built for boilermakers, steaks, and Harley Davidsons.

He wore his colors that day. Black jacket with the bright white lettering. The Cowhands. A mean lookin' branding iron seared the name into the leather, or so it seemed. The cute little girl assigned to take him to all his classes swallowed once when she saw him, paling at the sight of a real gang member.

Dan hated the stupid locker, hated the books, hated the whispers in the hall when he passed. Hated being the cynosure of all eyes. To cover his nervousness, he swaggered down the halls, cowboy boots clicking on the linoleum floors. And somehow that bravado carried him through the day.

Old Maypenny picked him up. Tomorrow, the bus would stop at the end of the long driveway to Maypenny's cabin.

And wouldn't that be fun?

xxxxx

"New kid in school today," Tad remarked over a mouthful of windmill cookie. Spider was getting ready to go on the night shift, and these few hours were precious to them both.

"Really? Don't eat so many cookies, Tad. You'll spoil dinner."

Tad rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. Anyway, everyone was buzzing about the new guy. Dan… Dan something. It seems he was a gang member in the City, or that's the rumor. He's living with Mr. Maypenny."

It was then Spider put it together. Molinson had informed the force that a gang member was being sent to Sleepyside for rehabilitation. A boy on the cusp of manhood. The kid hadn't done anything like murder someone, and he wasn't sociopathic. Just a boy in need of some direction.

Or so Molinson said.

And the boy's name was Dan Mangan.

"He didn't say much, just walked around looking out of place and angry. Scared, too," Tad mused.

"I think I met his mother over at the old Tomlinson place. Mr. Wheeler hired her to look after the place while the construction is going on."

"Trixie was suspicious. I heard her whispering with Honey in the cafeteria."

It was Spider's turn to roll his eyes. "When is Trixie not suspicious? I swear Mother Teresa could have come here to Sleepyside and Trixie would have thought she was smuggling in diamonds under her habit."

Tad barked out a laugh, spraying a little windmill cookie on the table. "True."

Spider hesitated. "Tad, be careful around him."

Tad glanced at his brother, saw the concern in his brown eyes. "Don't worry. I think our Ms. Belden is far more dangerous than Dan."

Spider opened his mouth to retort when Mrs. Vanderpoel came bustling into the kitchen. "Come on, men. Dinner is being served."

xxxxxxx

The whole cabin stunk like the convent of St. Michael's on Friday. Fish! Dan rolled his eyes. He would have much rather more of the delicious hunter's stew Mr. Maypenny dished up last night. At least it was meat and potatoes and some green bits.

Dan was working in his room, trying to cover the books handed out in school today. He stared at the stack on his desk. It was a good thing Maypenny picked him up today. His book bag must've weighed 75 pounds.

He kicked, just a little bit, at the side of his desk. All the other kids in school had cool book covers and here he was trying to make do with old paper bags. Man, what the hell! Was he back in the 60s?

The old man called from the kitchen that dinner was ready and to wash up. That was another thing. He didn't have to be reminded to wash up. He wasn't six years old anymore. Dan did so anyway and joined Mr. Maypenny at the rustic farmhouse table.

"Trout, caught fresh from the lake. It's best made simple, Dan. You'll find that in life a lot. A little bit of Italian seasoning, a few sprinkles of chopped parsley from the herb garden, and some garlic lemon butter. That's it. Put a couple of baby potatoes in the tin foil and bake. A simple and filling meal and it didn't cost an arm and a leg."

"The lake? I didn't see a lake around here." Dan scooped up several fillets along with the tender potatoes. It really did smell delicious, even if it was fish.

"It's further in the preserve, up towards Manor House. That's the Wheelers' mansion up on the top of the hill. Matt Wheeler has it stocked with trout occasionally, but wild trout are plentiful around here, too."

"Is it a man-made lake?"

"Nope. It's fed by surrounding streams and a spring. The Wheelers have a boathouse on it as well as a deck and pier. There's also a float several hundred feet out in the lake. The kids go swimming in the summer and in the winter, if it's cold enough, the lake freezes over, and they go ice skating."

Dan's ears perked up at that. "Ice skating?" That was one thing he did and did well. His mother and father used to go all the time. It was free and fun, and Dan found he had a natural talent for speedskating.

"Yes. You'd do well to try and make friends with the BWGs, Dan. Those kids are always having great adventures. Right now, I think they're planning some sort of carnival to help kids affected by the earthquake in Mexico."

He didn't say anything, just scooped up another forkful. Yeah, just what he needed. Hanging around a bunch of goody two shoes. Before you know it, he'd be wearing black horn-rimmed glasses, shirts with little alligators on them, and khaki pants that were too short at the ankle.

Cowhands were the bomb. While all the rest of them here geek out, his home was New York City, and he was going to go back, come hell or high water.

xxxxxx

The next few days were full as everyone settled into their new roles. Mary Pat cried herself to sleep several times, wanting to see Dan but knowing he had to adjust to his new status. Regan was back at the stables full-time, taking care of the five horses housed there.

Mary Pat was slowly transforming the guesthouse into a welcoming home. Mr. Wheeler and his charming wife Maddie stopped by with the architectural plans for the farm. It surely was going to be a showplace once all the construction was completed.

Mary Pat couldn't help but be awed by the grace and beauty of Madeleine Wheeler. She almost expected the socialite to be dressed in a designer gown with a 10-foot train. However, Mrs. Wheeler was wearing a pair of jeans – designer, to be sure – and a red plaid flannel shirt with a quilted vest over it. No doubt both latter items probably cost more than her week's wages.

Mr. Wheeler also helped her enroll in SUNY online. The office in the guesthouse had a state-of-the-art desktop computer system, and Mr. Wheeler provided her with a laptop. "You can take a few courses online to catch up," he told her. "When the fall session begins, you'll be able to go to campus to finish up your degree."

It was almost too much. Quick tears spurted into her eyes, and she began to thank him. Always at a loss with a woman in tears, Maddie quickly pushed Matt out of the room and turned to Regan's sister. So alike, yet so different. "Men can never handle tears, even when they're joyous ones. Mary Pat, we wouldn't do this unless we had confidence in you. It's not charity, you know. Everyone at times needs a helping hand. Not a handout, but a hand up. I needed it myself, not in any material way. I had more than enough, but I didn't have my daughter. Trixie Belden, indeed, the rest of the Beldens, provided that hand up."

"Helen Belden is so pretty and nice. She came over yesterday with the most astonishing cheesecake. Just to welcome me to the neighborhood, she said. We had a nice long chat. I'm going to open an account in her husband's bank. Imagine that. Me, having a bank account!"

"Count yourself lucky if you had one of Helen's cheesecakes. Matt and Peter call them sex on a plate."

Mary Pat was startled into a giggle. "It certainly tasted like it, from what I can remember!"

There was another interesting development in Mary Pat's life. Officer Spider Webster had taken to dropping in while he was out on night patrol. Just to make sure everything was okay, he had explained. After all, they couldn't have their newest resident upset or scared.

Of course, Mary Pat had to invite him in for coffee. They each spoke a little about their lives in that tentative getting to know you stage. And of course, she offered him a piece of Helen's cheesecake, which he recognized immediately.

Life was looking up, looking exciting, and the only note of discord in her life was the fact that Danny was not here with her.

xxxxxxx

Luke Allred was perched on a crate in the dilapidated, crumbling, abandoned brownstone. The Cowhands had co-opted it as their headquarters, and people on their turf knew enough not to trespass. He was using a matchstick to pick at his teeth as he gazed out at the members of his gang.

Idiots. All of them. The only one that had a lick of sense was Dan, and he was upstate living it up with the rich bastards who controlled the city.

Maybe Dan could be coerced to share the largess.

"Dick," and, man, how he hated that name. "I'm going to be taking a little trip to visit our friend Dan. You'll be in charge while I'm gone."

Dick Ryks grinned. It was about time Luke recognized his natural leadership abilities. "Sweet."

"Our club treasury is getting a little low on funds, and I'm going to be taking the balance of it to fund my expenses. Redeye and Jacko, you guys hit up that little bodega we did before. Mickey and Carson, you guys take the purse patrol. Remember, little old ladies. Try not to get caught like Dan did."

"When you coming back?" Carson hated mugging little old ladies. Maybe he'd knock off a bodega or two. Himself. Luke wouldn't be around, and how would he know where the funds came from?

"I'm leaving in the next couple days, and I should be back in a week. Remember, I'm not a very nice guy if you get me angry. Not nice at all." Luke looked out over all of them with that dead, black gaze.

"Yeah, we know." Dick shivered. He would not want to be on the other side of Luke's temper. Nope. Not at all. One thing he did know. The gang might be mucking around in low-level muggings and easy robberies, but Luke? Dick wouldn't be surprised to see him on the cover of Serial Killers Monthly in the future.

Yeah, this was something to do for now to relieve the boredom, but soon he was gonna branch out on his own. He had a great acting ability and chameleon-like quality to help him slip into any role, male or female.

And there were a lot of gullible marks out there.

xxxxxxx

Dan made it through the first day on the bus to school and back. It was obvious what that nosy, curly-headed blonde thought of him. She didn't seem scared of him at all, just… disdainful. Yeah, that was the word.

He reached a sort of truce with Mr. Maypenny, too, as they settled into their new normal. Dan would come home, do his homework, and then set about doing chores with the old man. He just hoped he'd have the same amount of energy Mr. Maypenny did when he was that old.

He'd never admit it, but his hands were blistered from chopping wood to lay by. It was hard, sweaty work, even in the cold. Later that night, the old man tossed him a tube and a pair of gloves. "Put that on your palms, Dan. It will help heal them."

Uncle Bill came over for an hour or so every day. The subject was Horses 101. At first, Dan was intimidated by the large animal. Man, standing up close to one of them was a lot different than watching them on film.

"Spartan is a good old boy. A gelding. Do you know what that means, Dan?"

"Nah. We didn't have too many horses running around the streets in Brooklyn," he replied flippantly.

Regan flushed a bit with that quick Irish temper but held his tongue. "Male horses are stallions. As with any herd animal, you have the alpha male and his harem. They are very territorial about their females and of course get into a lot of altercations with other male horses. A gelding is a stallion that can no longer reproduce. Most of the time they are kinder and gentler animals."

Dan squinted up at his uncle. "Most of the time?"

"There's always a wild one in the bunch. In the stables that I manage, Mr. Wheeler's horse is a big black gelding named Jupiter. Jupiter is strong physically and headstrong mentally. Even though he is a gelding, I keep him away from our mares. He's a bit unpredictable. You can ask Trixie or Jim about that sometime."

"And what about Spartan here?" Dan could imagine being trampled to death in the little stall.

"Like I said, he's a good old boy. Gentle, soft mouth. He'll be a good mount for you to learn to ride. He loves apples. I want you to give him an apple a day, but when you do, extend your hands like this, palms flat. That will avoid him nibbling on your fingers, which can be painful." Regan paused. "I'd like to take you and your mom to dinner on Friday at Wimpy's."

"I'd like that." Simple words, no attitude, just gratitude. He wanted to see his mother, learn how she was coping. He was eager to tell her about his days and nights in the preserve, where the only sounds were those of nature.

Dan was also responsible for mucking out Spartan's stall. It certainly was not a job he relished. "Bad enough the streets are filled with dog crap. Who would've thought I'd be raking out horse crap." Mr. Maypenny had a compost heap in which Dan emptied the buckets.

School was, well, not bad if he allowed himself the truth. The school was a lot smaller than the one that he was supposed to be attending in Brooklyn. Most of the teachers there were engaged with the students, trying their best to help them understand the lessons.

But he still wanted to go home to Brooklyn.

Maybe.

xxxxxxxx

Hawthorn Street was the bad area of Sleepyside. A snaking, cracked, two-lane blacktop, it always seemed like a miasma of evil hung over it. Little patchwork lawns were mostly straw in the summer, pale green in the spring, as if it was an effort to grow there. Paint peeled on of the houses, and driveways were overgrown with weeds. The residents of said street were shifty-eyed con artists, according to popular opinion.

Evil called to evil, or so it was said. No wonder as the heels on Luke Allred's cowboy boots click-clacked along the splintered sidewalk, he felt right at home there, on that sad street.

Olyfant's Boarding House. Luke supposed the paint was once white; now, it was more of a dirty gray. The porch sagged, and the three steps up listed a bit to the left. The screen door had slits in it, and Luke wondered if someone tried to break in… or out.

Still, it was a step up from a rat-infested brownstone in Brooklyn.

A man sauntered out of the place, smoking a cigarette, and leaned against a column, his beady eyes on Luke. He was rocking a thick, black unibrow along with some shiny blue pants that were obvious leftovers from the 70s. "Take a picture," he smirked. "Lasts longer."

"Har-har. Got a room to rent for a day or two or three?"

Henry Olyfant shrugged a shoulder. "Cash up front. Fifty bucks a day."

Luke rolled his eyes. "For that dump? It's less at the Circle Motel in town." He turned to go.

"Thirty."

"Twenty-five and you have a deal."

Business had been slow, the winter was harsh, and Olyfant could use the money. Once spring rolled around, he knew his businesses would pick up, but now…

"Okay."

Luke followed the man inside. The place was just as decrepit inside as out. He peeled off fifty dollars and handed it to the proprietor, careful not to let the man see his wad of cash. Olyfant showed Luke to a room on the first floor, barely big enough to contain the single bed, nightstand, spindle-backed chair, and doorless closet.

"Bathroom is down the hall. If ya wanna use the kitchen, ya haveta buy your own groceries and clean up after yourself. You get two towels a week. If you need more, they are extra. Enjoy your stay," Olyfant grunted as he handed over the key. Front door is locked at midnight. The back door into the kitchen is left unlocked, but I suggest not wakin' me up."

Luke nodded and shut the door after the man, shoving the back of the chair under the knob. If all went well, he'd be living it up with Danny-boy and his rich friends.

xxxxxxxxxxx

It wasn't so bad, living out in the forest. He never would have admitted it to anyone, not even his Ma. There was a certain peace there, one not present when he was in the city. The air was pure, almost intoxicating. Several small snowfalls gave the land a pristine look. He was astonished to see tracks of the animals that lived there.

His days were filled with catching up in school; afternoons and nights in the never-ending chores. When Friday finally arrived, he was excited to be able to see his mother and tell her all about his new life.

It was amazing that she picked him up in the Jeep Mr. Wheeler had put at her disposal. This was a different woman than the one he lived with. Mary Pat looked relaxed, almost carefree. A big smile crossed her face when he climbed in. "I've missed you, Danny!"

He leaned over and kissed her soft cheek. "I've missed you too, Ma. Where's Uncle Bill?"

"We're going to pick him up now. I've found out he hates cars, hates to drive." Mary Pat shook her head. It was a measure of the love Liam had for her that he drove all the way to Brooklyn.

Dan rolled his eyes. "I can attest to that! Spartan perks up anytime he is near. He is a great teacher, though." Dan hadn't yet been up on Spartan's back, not until he knew every bit of tack, how to clean it, and the basics of horse anatomy. William Regan's love for the big animals shone through, and it was infectious.

Shortly after that, the trio was seated at Wimpy's in one of the large, comfortable booths. "They have great shakes and burgers here. Not as good as Mrs. Belden's but delicious nonetheless."

Mike came over himself, partly because Regan was a friend and partly because he was curious about the newcomers. "Good evening folks. How is it going, Regan?" Mike was the owner/operator of the establishment, a tall, thin, wiry sort of man.

"Hi, Mike. Mike, this is my sister, Mary Patricia Mangan, and her son Daniel Mangan. MP and Dan, this is Mike Brooks, purveyor of Westchester County's finest."

"Pleased to meet you, Mike." Mary Part gave him a bright smile. Dan merely grunted a hello.

In a little while, they were chowing down on a superb meal as the diner filled up with other patrons. Dan noted the group that came in, laughing and smiling. The BWGs. He knew of them from school and from his uncle and Mr. Maypenny.

He tried to tell himself that he'd never want to be a part that tight-knit group. As he stared into the wholesome, clean-cut faces, a large part of him wanted so badly to be there with them. What would it be like, to be with people who had your back all the time? Who did good things and helped the community? Who were respected and loved?

He stared down at his food. Man, what is happening to me?

xxxxxxxx

Luke Allred shivered in the cold night as he watched Dan from the park bench. Yeah, he was in there, warm and cozy, like nothin' was wrong. It was time Danny paid him back for everything he did for him. It wouldn't be too hard to find out where he was staying. It was a small town, and everyone knew everyone else's business.

It was just then that Spider Webster, in full uniform, and his brother Tad graced the diner. One day a week, the guys gave Mrs. Vanderpoel a break and went out to eat at one of Sleepyside's fine dining establishments. Wimpy's for good old American chow; That's Amore for Italian grub; or Golden Dragon for the best in Chinese/Japanese cuisine.

xxxxxxxxx

Tad spied the BWGs first and gave them a friendly wave. Turning, he noted Dan sitting with Regan and a lady who resembled the groom. Regan's sister. The town drums already beat out that tune.

They were on their way to a vacant booth one down from the trio. "Hey, Dan! You finally discovered Wimpy's!" Tad grinned at the dark, handsome teenager. "Regan."

"Hi, Mary Pat," Spider murmured. "How you doin', Regan? Mrs. Mangan, this is my brother, Tad."

"Hi, Tad. Dan, this fine gentleman is one of Sleepyside's finest men in blue. Officer Spider Webster."

Dan raised a black brow. "Spider?" He should have felt ill-at-ease or nervous. Instead, he sort-of admired the uniform and was consumed by curiosity about the man's first name.

Spider rolled his eyes. "It's a long story." He kept his eyes on Regan's pretty sister. "Well, we'll leave you to finish your meal."

"Nice to meet you, Tad," Mary Pat Mangan smiled at the boy. Tad felt the warmth of it envelop him from head to toe. He hadn't felt that earth-mother type nurturing since… well, since forever.

"You, too, Mrs. Mangan. See ya in school, Dan."

xxxxx

Outside of the diner, at his vantage point, Luke was filled with feelings of utter outrage. Consorting with the enemy! Mangan looked awfully chummy with that cop. Awfully chummy. And you know what happens when a criminal and a cop get friendly.

Snitching. That's what happens.

Dan Mangan knew enough to put a lot of the gang members away for a long time.

And he, for one, wasn't about to spend the next 10-to-20 in the salubrious confines of Sing-Sing or Attica.

xxxxxxx

An hour and a half later, Dan was trying to coax a recalcitrant Spartan into his stall. "Gentle and biddable, my ass," he muttered aloud.

"There's a catamount about, makes him skittish." A deep voice, not Mr. Maypenny's interrupted Dan's diatribe. His head shot up, and a tall redhead was standing on the other side of the rustic fence. "I'm Jim Frayne." Jim stuck out a large, freckled hand.

Dan took it automatically. "How do you know that?"

"Heard it howling last night. Spartan here probably heard it. All the horses up at the house are being bratty, too. Regan had a hard time getting them back in their stalls. They don't want to be confined if they have to fight or flight."

"Old Spartan here may be old, but he's pretty stubborn." Dan paused. "I've seen you around school."

Jim swung himself over the fence, an easy, practiced gesture. "Yeah. I've seen you, too. Don't worry. A couple more days and everyone will be talking about something else."

Dan couldn't help himself. "Like you would know." Damn horse was just standing there, unwilling to move.

Jim raised his copper brows. "Like yeah, I would know. Not so very long ago I was a homeless runaway being stalked by my evil stepfather. Sounds like some sort of bad fanfiction, eh? Then I met Trixie and Honey and boom. Went from being a penniless orphan to having a family, a fortune, and a girl…" Jim's voice petered out. He didn't mean to say that much.

Dan rolled his eyes, tugging on Spartan's reins. "Like everyone in the whole school can't see that you and that blonde are nuts about each other. At least you have a family and a mom and dad." Dan turned away. His Da was dead, and his Ma gave him up to a total stranger.

Jim reached out and grabbed Dan's arm, turning him around. Those emerald green eyes had gone dark with temper.

"Don't think you have the corner on suffering there, Mangan. I watched my father die a painful, prolonged death from cancer. I watched my mother marry a brute who hated me simply because I looked like my father, and because she was so weak she couldn't be without a man. She died too, and I was left with him." Jim spat out the words. He lifted his shirt and coat. "See those hash marks? He whipped me like a dog. And nobody helped, not until I came here to Sleepyside."

Dan stared at the angry-looking welts crisscrossing Jim's back. "God," he breathed out.

"God? At the time Jonesy was whipping me, I was sure there was no such thing as God. If there was, how could He let this happen to me? To other abused kids? No, I didn't believe in God. First He took my father and then He took my mother. He left me with this guy who thought nothing of taking a horsewhip to me." Jim scrubbed long fingers over his cheeks. It was not something that he spoke about a lot.

"When I ran away I finally escaped from Jonesy, I did everything I could to get here to my great uncle. I lied, I stole, I cursed the people who left me in this situation. I was pretty depressed and angry when I finally made it here. And of course, what happened? My great uncle's fabulous mansion was a dilapidated wreck. I knocked and knocked, but no one answered. So, I broke in. It was a holy mess inside. I was exhausted, I was hungry, and I was damn scared. I found a shotgun, and I slept with it next to me on this crappy old mattress in the living room. And then, something miraculous happened."

Dan was enthralled with the story of Jim's life. "What happened?"

"Two girls broke into the mansion. I heard them and thinking it was Jonesy, leveled the shotgun at the entrance to the living room. Because at that point, Dan, I was willing to commit murder. If it had been Jonesy, I would've killed him. Even a life sentence in prison would've been better than life with him." Jim closed his eyes, shaking his head. A small smile tilted his lips as he opened his eyes again.

"Who were the two girls?"

"Honey Wheeler, my sister and a curly-haired spitfire named Trixie Belden. Honey was scared but Trixie? Man, she stood right up to me and demanded to know what I was doing in my uncle's house. I had a gun on her, and she was the one taking me to task. I met them and to tell you the truth, I've never looked back. I might have thought that God deserted me in my time of greatest need, but He didn't. I'm sure he led me here, led me to a life that I couldn't even imagine last year. Led me to a family I love, a sibling I didn't have, and a girl I admire more than anyone on earth."

"Yeah, well, what's the chance of me having a rich uncle?" Dan said, bitter.

"It's not about the money, Dan," Jim explained, patient. "It's about the relationships. I'm not going to lie to you and tell you that the money doesn't matter. It does, to a certain degree. It opens doors that were shut; it allows us to have adventures and trips most people don't have access to. However, if Honey and my parents were as poor as church mice, I still would be thankful that I was given a second chance. We're not so different, you and me. I don't know your story, I just know the rumors. Whatever you did back in Brooklyn, leave it all behind. You have a chance at a new start here."

"Well, your Trixie doesn't trust me. She made that abundantly clear."

Jim laughed, his green eyes filling with merriment. "Oh, Dan! It's nothing personal, believe me. It may take time, but when Trixie realizes you are really a good guy, they'll be no greater friend that you'll make."

It was at this point Spartan decided it was time to make his way into the barn. "You've given me a lot to think about, Jim. Thanks." He did, too. It wasn't like Dan was going to change overnight. He still missed Brooklyn and his old gang.

But, it was nice having enough to eat and not worrying that he was taking food out of his mother's mouth. It was nice falling into a soft, comfortable bed in the middle of the forest and not worrying that someone was going to break in or that something was going to happen to your mother as she went from job to job.

Even chopping all that wood wasn't really bad.

As Jim helped Dan get a stubborn Spartan ready for the night, his mind was whirling, and his emotions were awry. He was still being pulled towards Brooklyn, but if he was honest with himself, Sleepyside was taking hold of his heart.

xxxxxxxx

While Jim was talking to Dan, Spider Webster was stopping by Glen Hollow Farm. "How did you like Wimpy's?" Spider asked as he wrapped his fingers around the warm mug of coffee.

"Loved it! In fact, I love the whole town. It's just so nice and clean. I feel safe there. The shopkeepers are all so personable, and the residents have been welcoming. Dan looked great, even though he pretended to be still upset with the move. I think it's a good thing."

Spider rolled his eyes. "You know teenagers. They have to pretend to be cool and uncaring. Tad pulls that on me all the time."

"He's a nice boy, Spider. You did well."

"I couldn't have done it without the help of Sleepysiders. You know that old saying, it takes a village to raise a child? In my case it was true. I needed a lot of help at various times, and everyone was glad to do so." He paused, biting his lower lip. "Tonight's my last night on night shift."

Mary Pat felt a quick stab of disappointment. "Seriously? I'll miss our little coffee get-togethers."

"I've asked Chuck Dubner to drive by every so often."

"Oh, there was no need for you to do that. I guess in the first few days here, I was scared. I'm not anymore." But still, it was a little bit of a relief to know that Spider thought enough of her to make sure that someone kept an eye on the place.

"Mary Pat, I was wondering if maybe sometime you'd like to go out. On a date." Spider's knee was pumping furiously under the table. He hadn't asked a woman out in a very long time.

A warmth spread through her body. "I'd like that, Spider. I'd like that very much."

"How about Friday? We could go out to an early dinner in White Plains. I can show you a little of the countryside."

"That sounds lovely."

"How about if I pick you up around two? We can take a drive and then go to MacDonald's."

Mary Pat wrinkled her nose. "McDonald's?"

"No, Mack Donald's. M-A-C, not M-C. It's an Irish pub and restaurant. They have really good food, and it's casual, not dressy sort of place."

"Wonderful. It sounds great."

They were looking into each other's eyes, but the electric moment was interrupted by Spider's radio crackling into life.

"All available units, reports of a break-in at the convenience store on Hawthorne Street."

Spider stood. "Webster here. On my way. ETA 10 minutes." Speaking to Mary Pat, he shrugged. "The life of a police officer. I'll see you Sunday, Mary Pat."

She followed him to the door. "See you then, Spider." She stood in the doorway, watching him speed away. Did she really want to get involved with another first responder? Look what happened to Tim.

She raised a hand to her heart and pressed.

Yeah. She did.

xxxxxxxxx

Luke Allred was counting the cash in his room. The convenience store, Hawthorn Quick Mart, wasn't really so convenient. It opened up around sevenish in the morning, and the place was locked up tight by nightfall.

A couple of days of observation told him all he needed to know. The cashier was either the proprietor, an older man who was an alkie – he reeked of the stuff. When the geezer needed to sleep it off in the back, his equally soused spouse would take over for a few hours.

The shelves were not exactly stocked with healthful food. A wheezing old freezer held a few gallons of milk and some prewrapped cheese. The clientele was either food-stamp recipients from the neighborhood who were trading in their stamps for cash or cigarettes or people picking up scratch-offs or lottery tickets. Occasionally, a harried parent would drop in and get a couple of fast things, but Luke was sure they were either running numbers from the store or involved in low-level money laundering.

There were a couple of fake security cameras around the store. Luke could tell by the fact there were no wires or blinking red lights. It was an old trick by shopkeepers hoping to deter crime, but who didn't want the added expense and upkeep of a real security system.

The owners lived above the store in a tiny apartment that looked as if it were added on after the place lost its franchise rights. Even though they lived in what passed for a hotbed of crime in Sleepyside, they didn't have much that would deter a determined thief. Luke figured they weren't robbed because you don't piss in your own backyard, but hell, he didn't live here.

He waited a couple hours after the lights to the place went out, and he could see lights blazing in the apartment. It was dark enough and cold enough so that there weren't many passers-by. A quick and easy pick of the padlock in the back of the store and he was in.

A minute later, he was out with the contents of the old, broken register and the cigar box stuffed with cash under the counter. It was a nice haul. The one thing he forgot was to close the padlock up, but then again, he needed to make a quick exit.

What Luke didn't count on was the owner heading downstairs to place his empty liquor bottles in the dumpster, seeing the open padlock and calling the cops.

A short while later, someone was knocking at his door. "It's Olyfant. The cops are here. They want to talk to all of us about a break-in at the Quick Mart."

"Be there in a minute." Luke stashed his jacket, along with the cigar box full of cash in a hidey-hole he had discovered. It looked like moulding on the drywall, but if you tugged at it, the panel tipped out.

He stepped into the living room to find Olyfant, a uniformed police officer with a pad, and the only other occupant of the boarding house, a guy whose last name was Thompson. He was the last to join the party.

"Hello, I'm Officer Webster." Spider was well acquainted with Olyfant and the Thompsons. "You are?"

"Luke Allred." He wasn't going to offer more. That's how you got in trouble. Giving more information than was asked.

Webster's instincts went on red alert. He almost laughed aloud – his Spidey sense! "Well, gentlemen, it appears there was a break-in at the Quick Mart. Since you're less than a block away, I was wondering if any of you saw anything suspicious."

Olyfant looked surprised. "Seriously? Someone robbed old man Pulaski?" Man, what was the world comin' to?

"Yeah, broke in and got all the cash. He was throwing out some trash when he noticed the padlock was broken."

"I ain't seen nothin," Thompson growled. And even if he did, he wouldn't tell the cops. Not after they put most of his family in jail when all they wanted to do was spread the wealth a little.

"I didn't see anything," Luke said smoothly.

"You guys sure you didn't notice any strangers lurking around or see any suspicious vehicles? Someone casing out the joint?"

"I got a business to run here, Webster. I didn't see anything."

"You know the place has security cameras," Webster informed the trio of scowling men. He knew they didn't work, were fake, but these guys probably didn't know that. If one or all of them got nervous…

Thompson shrugged. "Won't show me robbin' the place. Now if that's all, I'm missin' my shows."

"Sorry, Officer… Webster. I didn't see anything." Luke hooked his thumbs on his belt loops.

"All right, if you remember anything, just get in contact with the police." Webster was frustrated. It was a long shot, but he had to try. He glanced again at Luke Allred and addressed him directly. "Staying long here in Sleepyside?"

It was Luke's turn to shrug. "Maybe. It's a nice little town."

Spider Webster did not have a good feeling. He decided to run Allred's name when he got back to the station. There was something hinky about this whole situation.

After Spider left, Olyfant eyed his newest tenant. "You didn't have anything to do with the robbery, did ya, kid?"

"Not me." Luke stared into the man's eyes, looking as sincere as possible.

Olyfant didn't trust the little bastard. Allred might only be around eighteen, but Olyfant's crook-dar was pinging loudly. "You better be tellin' the truth, man. You don't shit where you eat." Quick Mart might be a hot mess, but Pulaski did a good business in illegal numbers and a few other unsavory businesses, in most of which Olyfant partnered.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Luke sensed the man didn't believe him. Maybe it was time to get the hell out of there, go collect Danny and get the hell back home to Brooklyn.

God only knows what a mess of it Ryks was making out of the Cowhands.

xxxxxxxxxx

Spider was paused on the porch of Olyfant's house. That kid, staying there. Luke Allred. He had a Brooklyn accent, just like Dan Mangan. Maybe Dan knew him. It was a longshot; Brooklyn was full of people and the chances two Brooklynites in Sleepyside, there for different reasons, knew each other was a longshot.

But hell, cases were solved with even greater coincidences than that. He'd ask Dan or ask Mary Pat. Allred looked like bad news, and Spider aimed to get him the hell out of Dodge. Or arrest him.

Whatever happened first.

xxxxxxx

Helen Belden sighed as she sat down in the cozy living room at Crabapple Farm. Peter, her husband, heard the loud exhalation and turned to her.

His beautiful wife's brows were furrowed, and she had her hands wrapped around a mug of steaming tea. "What's the matter, Helen?" Peter knew what she was going to say, at least in a global sense. It had to be one of the kids. Nothing else would make her look like that.

"I had a meeting at the school today," she began, taking a sip to fortify herself.

"Oh, God, tell me Trixie and Honey aren't finding mysterious goings on in the chemistry lab." Peter was only half-joking.

Helen snorted, a dainty sound, and Peter smiled to himself. That's exactly where Trixie got it from. "No, for once it wasn't the girls or Mart. It was the elementary school."

Peter's brows crawled up his forehead. Helen had the thought they looked like two black caterpillars and had to stifle a giggle. "Bobby?"

"Not in any trouble, thank goodness."

"Then what's wrong?"

"The school counselor and his teacher were there. They think he needs speech therapy. He's lisping out his words, and it's not getting better. Miss Jules heard one of the other kids making fun of him, and she wants to nip that in the bud."

"That's not so bad. Lots of kids need speech therapy."

"That's not all." Helen looked at the fire, watching it consume the logs. "They think that we baby Bobby too much. All of us, even the kids."

"He is only six," Peter began.

"I agree, but Peter, none of the other kids were like him at that age. Brian was practically reading medical books; Mart was doing stand-up comedy here in the living room; and Trixie thought criminals were lurking behind every tomato plant."

She paused, taking in a gulp of air rather than tea. "I think maybe they might be right. Bobby needs more responsibility. All the other kids had chores at that age, yet Bobby gets away with murder. We're always asking Trixie to take care of him, and she and the boys should pitch in to help. However, we're the ones who chose to be parents. Not them."

Peter pinched at the bridge of his nose. He could foresee that this was going to cause agita. "All right Helen. More responsibility for Bobby. I only hope we live through this."

xxxxxxx

Nobody could say that Luke Allred was stupid. Well, he did make a mistake in robbing that stupid little convenience store, but how was he supposed to know all the ins and outs of this crappy little town's criminals? It was time to get the hell out of here and back to his stomping grounds.

He had a pretty good idea where Dan was staying. Some old geezer down on Glen Road. There were whispers that this Maypenny character had a stash of money in his broken-down log cabin. And guess what? Luke and the Cowhands needed a stash of money.

He'd be heading out first thing in the morning.

xxxxxxxx

The next couple days were chock-full of activities for everyone involved. Now that Mary Pat was at Glen Hollow Farm, renovations could start ramping up. Mr. Wheeler, Regan, the architects, and the contractor met to finalize the plans and go over them with Mary Pat.

When all was said and done, Glen Hollow Farm would be a showplace. Mary Pat noted with appreciation that none of the men involved treated her as if she had nothing between her two ears. Of course, not being familiar with architectural plans she did have a lot of questions. But in the end, she knew exactly what her brother and Mr. Wheeler envisioned and how the architect was going to bring that vision to fruition.

She didn't say anything to Liam about her date with a Spider Webster. After all, it was only one evening. It was different when you went out with someone rather than sit in a comfortable kitchen having a cup of coffee with them. Her nerves began to niggle at her. What should she wear? What should she eat? She could just see herself dropping a whole plate of spaghetti right on her lap.

And worst of all, what would Spider expect at the end of the date? A handshake? A quick peck on the cheek or lips? Or would he expect to be invited into her bed? God, it'd been so long since Tim died. As she was stressing, she glanced at herself in the little mirror over the dresser. A serviceable bra and what she thought of as grandma panties. Nothing too sexy about that!

Maybe a trip to town and a little splurge on herself. There was a department store, Crimper's. Maybe she'd make her way to the lingerie department and from there to casual wear. It had been eons since she bought anything new.

Mary Pat placed a slender hand over her stomach. Even now, butterflies were running rampant. She only hoped that some sort of brilliant conversation would ensue, and she wouldn't make a total jerk of herself.

xxxxxxxx

Luke, a city kid, found the preserve quite intimidating. After hours of frustration, he was finally able to find Maypenny's cabin. It wasn't the old, broken down, dilapidated place he had been expecting. In fact, a sort of envy grew within him. Not that he wanted to be out here in the boondocks, but yet that little green monster inside of him grew jealous of the fact that Dan had a real home.

He broke into an old building not too far from the cabin. It looked like it had been an old schoolhouse at one time. Surprisingly, there were no benches or other wood in the place that he could break up to use in the fireplace. He noted the footprints in the dust but was smart enough to know those footprints were also overlaid with tiny particles. So someone had been there, he surmised, a while ago. Well, there were certainly enough dead trees within the immediate vicinity for him to go out and gather some firewood. There was nothing in the old building now except a few old burlap sacks.

Yeah, this would be a good place for a base of operations. Nobody knew he was he there and he could watch and wait.

xxxxxxxx

Friday took its sweet old time getting there. Spider talked to Tad and Mrs. Vanderpoel about his impending date with Mary Patricia Mangan, thus having to endure their merciless teasing. Not so much Mrs. V, but Tad was insufferable.

Spider stored it all away for the fast-approaching day when his brother would begin to date. Revenge, as Mart Belden proclaimed, was sweet. Saccharine sweet.

xxxxxxxxxx

Robert Belden, aglow with new responsibilities, decided that he would like to add another animal to the Beldens' menagerie. The big kitty that had been roaming the preserve deserved a nice home. His conscience pricked as he tugged on his jacket and sneaked out of the house at dusk. Moms and Daddy were going to be mad, but helping a kitty was a 'sponsibility. Trixie often said it was their 'sponsibility to take care of the poor animals.

xxxxxxxx

Dan, although he would never admit it out loud, was growing awfully fond of Mr. Maypenny. Although it sometimes seemed that he chopped wood from dawn to dusk along with other chores that were never-ending, Mr. Maypenny always treated him with respect and kindness. He began, a little at first, to stop bragging in school about being in a gang and how cool it was. Life here in the outskirts of nowhere was slower paced, gentler, and kinder than the frenetic pace of New York City.

Most of the Bob-Whites of the Glen were cordial to him. Brian, Jim, and Mart were really nice, honorable guys. They were interested in what he was saying and listened to him, unlike Luke who was dictatorial and a my way or the highway type of guy. Even Diana and Honey smiled at him and went out of their way to make him feel welcome.

Dan leaned against the ax for a moment, taking a breather. The only fly in the ointment, so to speak, was Little Miss Trixie Belden. The kids at school filled him in on her exploits, and he was full of admiration for her and Honey. Man, he could barely keep his cool when he was being interrogated by the cops, never mind being kidnapped and threatened with death like the two girls were. Trixie was still suspicious of him. Dan guessed that she had every right to be.

He only wished that he could find a way to break through her wall of reserve. He really did want to be her friend.

He resumed his chopping, the rhythmic strokes chasing away all thoughts and dreams to concentrate on the task at hand.

xxxxxxx

It was Friday; Luke figured tonight was the night. He had enough roughing it. It was cold in the schoolhouse, and he didn't want to make a large fire. People would see the puffs of smoke and get suspicious. He was tired, bored silly, and just wanted to get home.

He heard Dan talking about going up to that large house on the hill, Manor House, Luke thought Dan called it. Apparently, his uncle worked there. Dan was going to meet the guy for a quick bite to eat and lessons about horses. Big stinking animals! Truth to tell, Luke snuck into the stables when Maypenny and Dan were out of the house. Maybe there was something of value there.

Spartan nearly scared the crap out of him. And it smelled like horse crap in there, overwhelmingly so. It was disgusting to a nose fine-tuned to the distinctive smells of the city. Exhaust fumes, hot pretzels or chestnuts, the myriad of smells coming from food trucks parked hither and yon, and the scent of 9 million people crammed together.

Better any day than horse shit.

Luke thought he'd get it all done – rob the old geezer, tie him up, grab Dan, and get the hell out of there, in less than fifteen minutes. It was time they both made a return to where they really belonged and where the pickins weren't so slim for two resourceful criminals.

xxxxxxx

It was getting dark, and Helen Belden was pacing the living room. God, where is Bobby? That's what I get for listening to other people. Give him more responsibility. Ha.

Peter came over and put a comforting arm around her shoulder. He was already dressed in his outdoor gear, rifle at the ready. "We'll find the little scamp," Peter said with more confidence than he felt.

"He's so little, Peter. And there are bears and catamounts, and God knows what else in those woods."

"He's probably holed up in the stables fast asleep, Moms." Trixie felt a nervous fluttering in her stomach. Darn that little kid! Yet for as angry as she was, she was also equally as worried. Her father, Mr. Wheeler, Regan, and that new kid Dan were going to search for Bobby in the preserve. Mart, Jim, and Brian were headed toward town.

Just then, Sharon Lynch and Maddie Wheeler came rushing through the back door, clucking their sympathy for Helen as well as bustling around to make tea.

Tea and sympathy. It won't do much to find Bobby. She tapped her hands on her thighs, all the pent-up energy needing to be released and made her decision. Trixie slipped out the front door, determined to find her youngest brother and make him pay.

Right after she kissed him senseless.

xxxxxxxxx

Mary Pat Mangan and Spider Webster had no idea of the drama unfolding in the preserve. They were seated in MAC Donald's, not MC Donald's. It was a charming little place; a long bar took up one side of the room with an astonishing array of spirits.

The bar was separated from the dining area by a dividing wall about four feet high. The top was filled with lush greenery to help mute any noise. One side of the wall was lined with large booths, and tables were interspersed with a wide enough space between to allow for private conversation and ease of passage by the experienced serving staff. Of course, they had the usual Irish fare. Corned beef and cabbage; a delicious sounding Irish stew.

However, at their server's recommendation, they chose the Chef's Special. And oh my, how fattening that was! A grilled cheese sandwich with several different types of cheese dipped in a special batter, and then deep-fried. The food came to the table piping hot with a side of a special slaw that was made entirely by hand. Mary Pat could tell, because of how fresh and delicious it tasted. Most of the time, in the restaurants where she worked, the slaw came in plastic bags like one would buy at a grocery.

Soft, Irish music played in the background and both parties relaxed as the meal progressed. See, it wasn't so hard going out on a date. It wasn't awkward between them. They had the advantage of forging a friendship first.

And, it was exciting to think that that friendship was now taking the logical next step.

xxxxxxx

"Dan, remember. Stick to the trails. Don't go haring off into the preserve. If you need to contact one of us, you have the walkie-talkie." Mr. Maypenny was not quite lecturing Dan as much as advising him.

"I'm pretty familiar with the area," Dan responded. "I…" It was just then the loud howl of a catamount silenced the little group of men. Dan shivered, thinking of that little kid out there, all alone.

"We better get going," Peter said grimly. He just hoped that Helen didn't hear that. She was frantic enough; never mind knowing that the big cat was in the vicinity. "I don't want to kill the cat," Peter frowned. "They're quite rare. However, if it comes to a choice between Bobby and the cat…" He let his voice trail off.

Everyone nodded curtly. "Let's get going," Ed Lynch said. "It's getting dark, and the temperature is dropping."

They all headed off in different directions, calling Bobby's name. Dan Mangan was both proud and scared shitless at the same time. Everyone else had a weapon, but the only thing he had was a walkie-talkie. What would he do if he came across the big cat? His flashlight illuminated several sharp rocks on the trail. It may not have been a gun, but one of these rocks could do a lot of damage. He slipped several into his pockets and held one in his other hand.

xxxxxxx

Luke Allred had absolutely no trouble breaking into the cabin. He saw the gaggle of men, their weapons, and Dan looking like a skinny little shit among them. From what he could overhear, some little kid was lost in the forest and the men – and Dan – were going out as a posse to try and rescue him. How sweet.

Well, it will give him a chance to get into the cabin and surprise the old guy when he comes back. Luke was surprised at how nice the cabin was on the inside. It wasn't a broken down wreck as he was expecting. It was rather luxurious.

That thought fueled the fire burning within him, the rage. Dan was living the life of Riley while I'm stuck in a cold, nasty old building four days. That boardinghouse in town wasn't much better, either. I know that Olyphant guy was going through my things when I am out.

Yeah, I'm going to be glad to see the last of this crappy little town, and it's oh so saccharine inhabitants.

Now all he had to do was wait. He had the rope from the stables and the long wrench he had found there. Once the old man came in, all he had to do was conk him on the head and tie him up. Easy – Peasy.

xxxxxxxx

Trixie heard the yowl of the catamount. It seemed close. "Bobby! Bobby! Where are you?" She knew these woods like the back of her hand. But Bobby didn't. She thought about her youngest brother and his propensity for getting into situations. Maybe it was because she, Mart, and Brian were all close in age and had each other to rely on. Bobby was a lot younger than all of them. Of course, there were Larry and Terry now, but for a long time, it must've seemed to Bobby as if he were an only child.

The bigger kids always had something else to do whether it was chores, studying, or extracurricular activities. And of course, they all complained, loudly, when they had to take care of him. Well, maybe not Brian so much, but Mart and Trixie.

Just then she thought she heard a faint call for help. Turning in that direction, hoping against hope, she followed the sound of Bobby's voice. Low-hanging branches slapped at her face, tore at her windbreaker, but she didn't care.

The big cat howled again, closer. Trixie had no time to lose and began to push harder. She needed to find her brother.

xxxxxxxxxx

They strolled, hand-in-hand, down the street. It was cold, a bit chilly, but each was warmed from within. It was not just from the delicious meal they had consumed in the cheerful Irish pub. No, it was deeper contentment, radiating out from their souls.

Tim would've liked him. They would have been friends, these two men with hero complexes. One a firefighter and one a cop, both bent on protecting and serving. I wonder… Just then, she tripped a little, and he immediately caught her, grinning.

"Oh! I'm not usually so clumsy." She flushed and grinned back.

Spider looked into her greenish eyes. Not the green or Regan or Mr. Wheeler, or even the deep emerald of Jim Frayne's eyes. It was her own special color, flecked with tiny pieces of gold. "It will always be my pleasure to catch you, ma'am," he replied, a twinkle in his eyes.

Just then, a bubble of happiness surrounded them. It almost felt like something was goading him on, commanding him to kiss those perfect lips. As Spider lowered his mouth to hers, she lifted her chin to accept his kiss. And just like that, they were kissing on the sidewalk.

Before she surrendered totally to his kiss, she felt a warmth steal over her heart. Tim. She could almost hear him; almost feel the little pop when he left. He'll be good for you and Dan, Mary Patricia.

There was an instant of sorrow for what could have been. As Spider's lips moved over hers, Mary Patricia Mangan let go of the past and sought out the future.

xxxxxxx

"Bobby! Bobby!"

"Here, Trixie! I falleded down. Watch out for the hole."

Trixie skidded to a stop at the edge of the ravine. It wasn't deep, but the sides were rather sheer. Bobby was standing at the bottom; her flashlight revealed his dirty face with tears tracking through it.

"Hold on, Bobby. I'm coming down." Trixie glanced around with desperation, and then just decided to take the direct route down. She dangled her legs over the edge and slid down, rather painfully, on her butt.

Bobby was on her in a flash, burying his face in her curls. All anger melted away to be replaced by sheer relief. Her arms stole around him; the little guy was wracked with shivers. "Bobby, you're freezing. Here, take my windbreaker." Trixie whipped it off and wrapped him in it.

"It smells like you, Trixie. All warm and sunshiny." Bobby smiled for the first time in a long time. "I followed the kitty and I broughted some of Reddy's food." He showed her the can of dog food.

Trixie took the can. "How were you planning on opening it, Bobby?" The pull tabs were notoriously difficult to open.

"I was gonna bash it open with a rock. Pow! Pow! Pow!" Now that he was safe, Bobby was reverting to his rascal self.

Another howl from the catamount and Trixie dropped the can. "We need to get out of here, Bobby." Her voice was low and urgent. She flashed her light around the sides of the ravine. There were some roots and dried-up vines, but Trixie didn't think they would support them both.

"We can give the kitty some food!" Bobby giggled, still unaware of the danger stalking them.

Trixie crouched down to his level and placed her cold hands on his shoulders. "Bobby, listen. That is not a kitty. It is not playful. It's a mountain lion, and it's big, hungry, tired and far from its home. We're going to look like some delicious snacks for your kitty if we don't get out of here."

The little boy's blue eyes filled with tears and his lips trembled. "Really? A lion? I'm scared. I want Moms and Daddy."

Bobby buried his face in the crook of Trixie's neck and began to sob. Lions were scary, and they ate people.

"Shhh, Bobby. Shhh." Trixie clutched her little brother closer. There was something on the edge of the ravine. She had her flashlight and a can of dog food to defend them.

She only hoped it would be enough.

xxxxxxxxx

The giggle of a herd of teenage girls broke them apart. They smiled at each other, eyes soft and dewy. "Get a room, you guys," someone offered advice, and oh, how they wished they could. It was too soon, however, no matter how much they wanted to follow the advice.

It was an unspoken understanding between them. They both had impressionable teenagers; they wanted to set a good example for Dan and Tad. Besides, it was too new and too exciting after a long drought.

"I suppose we should be getting back to Sleepyside," Spider said, his voice low and hoarse. "As much as I'd like to stand here kissing you senseless, I don't appreciate an audience."

Dazed, Mary Pat could do nothing but agree by nodding her head. "I, um, yeah. Why don't we do that?"

They sauntered back to the car, taking their old sweet time. Spider's arm was draped over her shoulders, tugging her close to his warm body. It was just so nice to have someone to lean on, and the thought wasn't just Mary Pat's. Spider had the same opinion.

"What are you planning to do on Saturday?" Spider asked as they slid into the car.

"Mr. Maypenny invited me over to his house to spend some time with Dan. I hate this. I hate being apart from him. But you know what, Spider? I think it's doing him good. He's not quite as sarcastic with me on the phone when we speak. Mr. Maypenny says he's a good worker."

"I don't think you really have anything to worry about, Mary Pat. Tad has spoken to me about Dan. He says he's a pretty good guy and for my brother to say that, you know it must be so. Dan has a little catching up to do in school work, especially in English. Tad offered to tutor him, so I think they're going to be meeting after school for a half hour or so once or twice a week. Dan can get the late bus or hitch a ride with Brian Belden."

"Do you… Do you really think the kids are accepting him?"

"According to Tad, Dan's winning over friends. You know, it's not easy starting over in a strange place, especially when you leave a large city like New York City and move to a small, quiet town like Sleepyside. It takes time to adjust."

"I never thought that when I contacted my brother when Daniel got arrested that all this would happen." She shrugged her shoulders. "It's like a dream. I'm so afraid I'm going to wake up back in that crummy apartment in Brooklyn and Dan will still be in jail."

"It's no dream, Mary Pat. Sometimes things are just meant to be, and sometimes it takes a lot of waiting for dreams to come true." Spider glanced at the pretty woman at his side and then concentrated on the road. He wasn't gifted with a silver tongue, nor did he want to spew an avalanche of insincere sounding compliments.

There would be a time and a place, and he only hoped he had the words to express his feelings.

xxxxxxx

"Bobby, get behind me," Trixie hissed, pushing her brother in place. She picked up the discarded dog food can and bent slightly at the knees, hand raised. Whatever it was up there, it was getting closer to the edge of the steep ravine.

A flashlight, a bright one, shone full in her face, blinding her for several seconds. "Daddy?" she called up as she blinked her eyes.

"No, it's me, Dan. Trixie?"

"Oh, Dan! Bobby is down here, he's not hurt, but it's too steep to climb back up." Trixie didn't care he wore a black leather jacket emblazoned with gang colors. She didn't care about anything except getting the heck out of there as the big cat screeched in the distance.

"Okay, Trixie. I have a walkie-talkie. Let me call the others for help." Dan kept a wary eye on the underbrush, listening for any sounds the big cat may be slinking nearby. "Mr. Maypenny? This is Dan. I found Bobby and Trixie is with him. Trixie said Bobby fell into a ravine. She went down after him, but it's really steep, and they can't get out."

"10-4, Dan. I know just where you are. We'll be there in five or ten minutes. Over and out."

Dan poked his head over the side of the ravine as the catamount yowled. The hair on his arms bristled as he glanced around. "Listen, Trixie, you gotta get out of there. The others are at least ten minutes away, and that cat sounds close."

He shone his flashlight down the sides. "If you can boost Bobby up to that root, I can take off my jacket, and he can grab the sleeve. Then I can pull him up. After I get him up, if you can find a foothold and get yourself up there, I can do the same."

Trixie was freezing, tired, and more than a little frightened, not that she'd admit it to Dan or anyone else. Not even Jim. "Okay, Dan." She crouched down to Bobby's level. "Bobby, put your arms through my jacket. I'm going to lift you up and climb onto the root. Grab Dan's jacket as tight as you can, and he'll lift you up the sides."

Bobby started sniffling. "I don' wanna go, Trixie," he sobbed.

"Bobby, you have to. Daddy and Mr. Maypenny are coming to get us, too, but we need to get out of here before your kitty comes. Okay?"

"Okay, Trix." He placed his arms around his sister's neck and kissed her soft cheek. "You're the goodest sister."

Trixie snorted out a laugh. "I'm your only sister. Now up we go."

It took a couple tries for Bobby to grab the root and hoist himself up enough to use it as a foothold. Dan laid on the cold ground, inching over to the side as far as he was able. The sleeve of his coat just made it down far enough for Bobby to grab onto.

"Bobby? Hold tight. Try to use your legs to kind of walk up the side when I start pulling, okay?"

Bobby nodded, gulping. It was a long way down again, even if Trixie was down there.

"Bobby? Did you hear me?"

"Okay." He grabbed the sleeve and perched on the precarious root. Dan began the arduous task of pulling the kid up the side. It seemed to take forever, but in fact, with seconds Bobby's bright blonde head peeped up from the edge. One more mighty tug and Bobby was upon the solid ground.

Safe, or as safe as one could be when being stalked by a catamount.

xxxxxxxx

Spider walked Mary Pat to her front door. He didn't expect to be invited in, not that he didn't wish it were so. It was early days yet for their relationship, and he didn't want to rush things. He figured there was time for the relationship to ripen into something more permanent.

They faced each other, tiny smiles tilting the corners of their lips. Spider swallowed and took the initiative. Because that's what first responders did, didn't they?

"I had a great time tonight, Mary Pat."

"As did I. Thanks for taking me to Mac-not-Mc-Donald's." she let a little, girlish giggle escape. "Although those new juicy Quarter-Pounders…" she let the teasing words trail off.

"I'd, um, I like to see you again," Spider pressed on. "I know you're busy with the construction and school, and you never can tell what's going to happen in Sleepyside, but I really would like to make this work."

"I'd like that, Spider. Just give me a call when you know your schedule, and we'll figure something out together."

Together. What a nice, warm word for two people who hadn't had much of it.

Mary Pat went up on tiptoes and brushed her lips over his mouth. Not quite a lovers' kiss, but a little more than friendly. "Thanks again." She touched his cheek with her cool fingers, flashed a smile, and disappeared into the house.

Spider stood there on the porch, illuminated by the outdoor light, his fingers touching his lips. Wow. My toes are tingling. A delighted grin spread over his handsome face. Life was lookin' real good all of a sudden.

xxxxxxx

"Bobby. Stay right here and don't move." Dan gasped the words out, winded. He flopped over on his back, the coldness of the frozen ground seeping through his shirt. Man, if he hadn't been chopping wood for what seemed like years, he'd never be able to hoist Bobby up the side of the ravine.

Props to Mr. Maypenny.

Trixie, with Bobby safe on higher ground, methodically searched the steep sides for foot and toe holds. She was in good shape, strong, sassy, and there was no way she was going to end up as catamount food. A few feet to the left, she spied some roots that she wouldn't have chanced with Bobby in her charge, but thought she'd be able to use them to her advantage.

She began to climb.

xxxxxxxx

Something is wrong. Maypenny could not shake the feeling. He turned to the other men. "You all know where the ravine is, right?" At their nods, he continued. "I'm going to head back to the cabin." He handed Regan a thermos of hot chocolate. "For the kids," he added, gruff.

"Okay, I'll walk Dan back," Regan began.

"No need to, Regan. He knows the way. He's a good kid." With that pronouncement, the irascible old man slipped off into the dense woods, leaving behind an astonished Bill Regan.

xxxxxxx

Trixie was slowly inching her way up the side of the ravine. The ground was hard and slippery, making it difficult to get a good hold. Her hands were freezing, and she closed her eyes for a second, willing strength back into her body. She didn't relish falling backward and tumbling into an old tree trunk or another deadfall.

I'm almost there. One small hand shot over the cliff, but instead of touching the ground, a larger hand wrapped around her wrist. "I got you, Trixie," Dan grunted.

"Yeah, but who has you?" she quipped, making him grin with appreciation.

He gave a prodigious tug as Trixie pushed up, the momentum causing them both to lose their balance. A few seconds later, they were scrambling to their feet. Trixie faced Dan, her face and hands dirty but her singular, blue eyes alight with excitement. "Thanks, Dan. You're not so bad."

"You ain't so bad yourself, She-Ra."

Just then, the men came upon the trio. "Well, what have we here?" Peter Belden's voice croaked out. He was thisclose to crying with relief or taking young Robert Belden to the woodshed.

"Dan saveded me!" Bobby cried happily. "And Trixie saveded herself. Can I have a drink?"

xxxxxxx

Thomas Maypenny felt it gnawing at his gut. There was somethin' not right. He knew almost every inch of the preserve the Wheeler billions protected. Well, almost every inch. The labyrinth defeated even an old salt such as he.

He made his way to the old schoolhouse. Oh, those were the days! The farm kids walked for miles to come here when Glen Road was just a dusty trail. His father told him how his father and the menfolk cleared the land around the old building before using the fallen timber to erect the structure that withstood the march of the months and Bobby Belden's horrorcanes and 'lizards.

His sharp, woodsman's eyes noted the disturbance in the underbrush, the broken twigs. He clicked off his flashlight and approached the building, silent footsteps rivaling the vaunted tracking abilities of Native Americans.

Maypenny's route took him around the small building, searching for… what? He wasn't sure, not until something on the ground caught his eye. He squatted for a closer examination.

Cigarette butts. Dan doesn't smoke, and neither do I. Someone's been here. He crept to the door, noted it was slightly ajar.

Probably no-one in there. It's too cold to leave the door open. No smoke billowing out from the fireplace. Maypenny stood to one side as he pushed the door open and clicked on his flashlight

The room was a mess. There were empty candy wrappers along with discarded cans of beer. Bags of half-eaten chips were scattered on the floor, inviting vermin. Whoever had taken up residence here was gone now.

Maypenny walked the three hundred feet or so to his cabin after securing the schoolhouse. He'd need to send Dan out here to clean it up. Everything looked the same as he crept up on his dream house in the woods. The door was closed, and only the porch light was ablaze. He could hear Spartan nicker lightly in his stall. The intruder in the schoolhouse was long gone, so why was his gut telling him something else?

He opened the door and stepped inside, glancing about. He took no more than a step in when his vision exploded in bright, white lights before darkness consumed him.

xxxxx

Dan was sipping from the communal cup of hot chocolate, glancing at the faces of the men surrounding him. It felt good for people to be looking at him with approval and admiration written across their faces, rather than disgust or disdain. Mr. Belden thanked him profusely for getting Bobby out of the ravine, and even Mr. Wheeler and Mr. Lynch patted him on the back.

And the smile from little Ms. Belden warmed his heart. Dan was wearing his black leather jacket again, not too much worse for the wear, but somehow… it didn't fit. Instead, he coveted one of those bright red jackets worn by the BWGs, the ones Honey made and embroidered.

The ones that proudly stated the wearer was a member of The Bob-Whites of the Glen.

He walked briefly with Uncle Bill and Mr. Wheeler. "I'm proud of you, Danny. You did good." The words from his taciturn uncle were high praise indeed.

"Thanks, Uncle Bill. I was just scared that big cat would get to us before you did."

"So were we, Dan," Mr. Wheeler added. "We didn't want to, but if we had to…" he patted the rifle he carried. "They're so rare nowadays, it would be a shame to kill it."

They came to the place where the two men would continue upwards to Manor House. "Take care, young man."

"Talk to you later, Dan." Man, what a story he'd have for MP! Regan grinned. Dan was settling in just fine.

Dan gave a small salute and trudged on. Part of his brain remained on high alert for any signals the catamount was close by. The other part wrestled with his new and different attitude. Helping Trixie and Bobby felt good. The rush of adrenaline was unlike the fear he experienced when shoplifting. And he could see why Jim Frayne was so head over heels about Trixie. Man, that chick was one adventurous soul! But he'd never poach on some other guy's territory.

Besides, she felt more like a sister-type soulmate than a romantic one.

The heady feeling of helping fell on fertile soil. This was what it was like for his Da, for the first responders like police and emergency crews. Building something up was better than breaking something down. The thought was new, exciting, and full of promise. Maybe the Bob-Whites would let him skate in the Ice Carnival they were having for the victims of the Mexican earthquake. He was an accomplished speed skater, after all!

Dan strode into the cabin, a tiny smile tip-tilting his lips. One that was quickly extinguished by the sight of Mr. Maypenny. The elderly man was bleeding profusely from a head wound, and for a split second, Dan thought he fell. Then he got a glimpse of the ropes at the man's wrists and ankles. His gaze lifted to the sneering Luke Allred.

"'Bout time you got here, Danny-boy. I been waiting a long time."

"What are you doing here, Luke? I'm not supposed to have any contact with the Cowhands. It's part of my probation."

"Screw that, man. I just had to come up here and see what you are getting up to with all your rich friends. Livin' the life of Riley, ain'tcha?"

Dan hooked his thumbs in his jeans. He knew Luke. Knew him well. Maybe the rest of the Cowhands were penny-ante shoplifters, but Luke was someone different. If I let him see… see I care for Mr. Maypenny, he'll kill him. "Yeah, if you consider living in a dump where everyone probably marries their sister. And chopping wood almost 24/7."

"Nice place, though. Where's the cash?"

Dan rolled his eyes and huffed out a breath. "In the bank. Where do you think it is? The old man don't keep it here. If he did, I woulda been back in Brooklyn."

Luke stared at Dan, considering. Whatever he saw in Dan's expression and stance satisfied him. "What about that big house up on the cliff?"

"Manor House? I've never been inside, but they got a security system 007 would find it hard to penetrate. I heard the rich parents were afraid their little darling would be kidnapped."

"Grab your stuff and let's blow before the old guy wakes up. I don't think we should head toward Brooklyn. I heard the girls are hot and there's easy pickins out the in Cali. Maybe we should head out west."

"I ain't got no money, Luke. It's slave labor here." Please. Please let my gamble pay off.

"I got enough for both of us right now. Knocked over that convenience store on Hawthorne. Got a nice little stash from the illegal shit going on there."

"Okay. Give me a minute to throw some crap into my backpack."

"Hurry it up, Danny-boy, 'cause if you take too long," Luke paused, taking the time for a well-placed, vicious kick to the unconscious man's mid-section. "If you take too long, I'm gonna do more than kick the shit out of him."

Dan raced to his room, grabbing a backpack and throwing whatever he could grab easily into it. Luke followed him, watching Dan to just to make sure. Luke didn't get to be where he was in life believing everyone's words.

It was just too easy to lie and make it plausible.

"How are we gonna get anywhere, Luke? You have a car stashed somewhere?"

"I figure we'd take the one here."

Dan snorted out a laugh. "No car here. Just an old pickup truck with a manual transmission. I don't know how to drive one, do you?"

Well, this was something Luke hadn't figured on. "No. Shit." He thought for a moment. "We'll walk down the road to that white house. They always have a couple a cars in the driveway. I'm sure they're stupid enough to leave their keys in them."

"The Beldens' house? Maybe. Although I can't really see us making an escape in a mini-van."

"It'll do. Get a move on, Mangan."

As they left, Dan spared a glance at Mr. Maypenny. He was moaning, a low guttural sound that worried Dan. He needs to get to a hospital.

The minute the two were near the asphalt that signaled Glen Road, two men stepped out of shadows, rifled cocked and at the ready. "On the ground, asshole," growled Bill Regan.

"Dan attacked that old man," Luke explained, his words tripping over each other. "I tried to stop him. I just wanted to visit an old friend and boom, he went crazy."

Regan cocked his gun as Dan stared at Luke. "I said on the ground. Now. Not you, Dan."

Luke stared into the cold faces of Matt Wheeler and Bill Regan, calculated his chances of making it safely into the forest.

And then laid down on the ground. Matt Wheeler placed his gun barrel, as cold as the ice that formed in his green eyes, right against the younger man's neck. "If you move, I'll blow your head off." He glanced up at Dan. "Good thinking, son. The police and an ambulance are on their way."

"I didn't do anything like he says, Uncle Bill. Honest." So that's how it was. The big, scary gang kingpin would throw him under the bus in a New York minute.

"We know you didn't, Dan. We knew from the moment you flipped on your walkie-talkie, and we heard the entire conversation."

"I'm going up to the house to take care of Mr. Maypenny until help arrives. He's bleeding and tied up."

Regan handed Dan his cell phone. "Take a couple of pictures of the crime scene first. Just click right here."

xxxxxxxx

Spider Webster was on his way home from Mary Pat's when his cell phone rang. Units were on their way to Tom Maypenny's house; was Spider close enough to get there faster? Apparently, there was a B&E and assault. Medical team on the way.

He was already screaming down the road before the dispatcher finished her sentence.

His eyes opened wide when the headlights illuminated two men he knew well. Regan and Matt Wheeler; it wasn't exactly a surprise to see them in Trixie Belden's slice of Sleepyside, but the fact they had a man down on the ground with rifles pointed at the body was extraordinary.

Spider glanced at the black jacket and just prayed the body being held hostage wasn't Dan Mangan. It would kill Mary Pat. He stopped his vehicle to one side of the road, grabbed his service weapon and some zip ties and approached the men.

"What's going on, gentlemen?"

"These guys are nuts! Holding me hostage. I didn't do nothin'. It was Dan."

Matt Wheeler took the lead. "Bobby Belden got lost in the woods. We were all looking for him because there's a catamount about. Me, Pete Belden, Regan here, Ed Lynch, Mr. Maypenny, and Dan. Of course, Trixie had to get involved."

Spider rolled his eyes. The little blonde was always the center of the storm.

"Dan found Bobby and Trixie; Maypenny left to go home. Dan was in our company until we split up, Regan and me to Manor House and Dan to Maypenny's. When Dan got there, he discovered Maypenny was beaten up, and this little creep was in the cabin."

"Dan flipped on the talk switch to his walkie-talkie, so we heard the whole thing," Regan added. "Meet Luke Allred, the leader of the Cowhands."

Spider knelt and secured the man's wrists behind his back. As he was doing so, the ambulance turned into the driveway and bumped its way to the cabin. "Hope that Mr. Maypenny is okay." He turned to the perp with a scowl and Mirandized him.

Matt's walkie-talkie crackled to life. "They're taking Mr. Maypenny to Sleepyside General. I'm going with them. He might… he might have internal injuries and a fractured skull." Dan's voice was agonized.

Matt frowned at the report. "We'll meet you there, Dan." Matt had most of the conversation between Dan and Luke recorded on his iPhone. He hoped the courts would allow it. It was damning.

Molinson pulled up in an official police vehicle, lights flashing. Spider briefed him on the events of the evening and advised his boss he had read the perp his rights.

"Well, now, Mr. Allred, you are going to be spending a little time in our lovely facility," he said as he placed a seething Luke into the back seat of the police car. The ambulance passed by and the men looked up at it. "You better pray that nothing serious happens to that man in there." Molinson slammed the car door, almost wishing Allred's neck was right there in the middle of it.

xxxxxxx

Dan grit his teeth as he watched the paramedics work over Mr. Maypenny. In the harsh light in the back of the ambulance, the old man looked grayish. His wrists were purpled with bruises from being tied up, and Mr. Maypenny's breathing was labored.

So, this is what it came down to. Preying on the weaker among us. Luke isn't a good leader at all. He's just another stupid criminal. Everything in the past weeks in Sleepyside was leading up to this epiphany, which flashed in his brain like a sudden burst of white light.

The drive to Sleepyside Medical Center – a grand name for a small, rural hospital – took eons in Dan's estimate. In reality, the speeding vehicle was at the ambulance entrance within ten minutes. Dan gritted his teeth as Mr. Maypenny moaned as they moved him out and into the trauma room. When Dan tried to enter with him, a nurse barred the way.

"Let us look after him now," The trauma room nurse, who was probably named Ratched, informed him. "You'll just be in the way." She didn't mean it cruelly. Just then, Mr. Wheeler and Bill Regan almost tore down the automatic door trying to get in. They motioned Dan to the fairly empty waiting area.

"They wouldn't let me go with him," Dan complained, pacing.

"Dan, they need to examine him to determine the extent of his injuries," Regan placed a hand on his nephew's shoulder.

The boy was pale and shaking. Regan prayed the old man would make it. He didn't think Dan could handle another death.

"Let me go talk to admitting," Matt Wheeler added. "They'll need some information about Mr. Maypenny, and he's in no shape to provide it." The two others watched as he sat down with the admitting clerk, greeting her by name and providing details of the accident.

"We'll need to get his injuries documented," Annie frowned. She disappeared behind a door and returned several minutes later. "I've arranged for one of the staff who is specially trained in forensic exams to document everything. They'll need it for the police report and court."

"Thanks, Annie. As I said, he's covered as an active employee through my company, Wheeler/Hart International, LLC. Here's my card." Matt fished his ID out of his wallet. "Group insurer, phone numbers, and policy number are all on there. All my employees are sent to the insurer on an electronic roster monthly, so they'll be able to provide his coverage details even if they don't have his ID number."

It then became a waiting game. Dan paced the corridor outside of the waiting area. He couldn't see anything that was going on; however, at least they weren't calling a Code Blue. He was caught in a maelstrom of emotions. Worry; pride that he was able to get his message across to the others to prevent Luke from essentially kidnapping him; but most of all, guilt. If it weren't for his association with the Cowhands, Mr. Maypenny wouldn't be in this situation.

Bill Regan watched his nephew for a little while, letting him work off some of the energy. There would be a crash, that he knew, and he finally just said in his deep voice, "Dan."

"It's my fault, Uncle Bill. If I were never remanded to Mr. Maypenny's care, this wouldn't have happened. I should've stayed in New York and taken my chances there. I should've gone to jail."

Regan eyed the child that was so much a combination of Tim Mangan and Mary Patricia. He grabbed the boy by the shoulders, turning them face-to-face. "It's not your fault, Dan. Get that out of your head now. It's Luke's fault. He was the one who came here. He was the one who made these choices."

"But, he wouldn't have come here except for me."Regan shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. If it wasn't Mr. Maypenny, it very well could have been even one of the Beldens or me. You need to be here as well as Mary Pat. Luke needs to be locked up for a good long time."

"They'll probably do a plea deal," Dan said bitterly.

"Maybe in New York City. Not here, not when you have a troublemaker – an outsider – come in and disrupt the harmony of the community. Not when you have a beloved old codger like Maypenny involved."

"If he dies, Uncle Bill…"

"Maypenny? He's a tough old coot. Here comes the doctor now. Let's see what he has to say."

Dan lifted hopeful eyes to the physician's grim face.

"Good evening, gentlemen. I'm Dr. Dingell. You are waiting here for word on Mr. Maypenny, I presume."

"Yes, sir. How's he doing?"

"I'm not going to pull any punches – I guess that was a bad choice of words considering the circumstances here. Mr. Maypenny was pretty badly beaten up. He has a concussion. A couple of his ribs are bruised but thank heaven there's no fracture. He's going to be pretty sore for a few weeks. We're going to keep him overnight to keep an eye on his concussion and also to make sure that there's no internal bleeding. To be quite frank, I'm amazed at the shape he's in. I expect a full recovery."

Dan didn't hear the rest of the words. Something that was overtight inside of him loosened. Mr. Maypenny was going to be okay. He was going to be okay. His mother was going to be okay. A few seconds later, Mary Pat came running into the hospital followed by Spider Webster.

"Danny! Are you all right? How is Mr. Maypenny? Spider came to get me right after he booked that… That miscreant into the Sleepyside jail."

Dan Mangan gazed at his mother, the woman who had sacrificed so much for him. He noticed the way Officer Webster was watching her and the way she looked back. "He's going to be okay, Ma. He's going to be okay."

It was then, right there in the hospital, that he knew his life had taken a 180° turn. Yup. He'd stay here with Mr. Maypenny until he was discharged. Ma had a new beau, and he would bet almost anything that he would have a stepfather and a new stepbrother.

And maybe even one day he'd be wearing the bright red jacket that had BWG cross stitched on the back.