Author’s notes:

This universe begins approximately six years after the alternate ending of “Keeping Up With the Joneses”. If you have not read that story because you hate Jonesy, I encourage you to at least read the alternate ending. If you hate Jonesy, you’ll like my KK ending (the alternate ending dance remix version). J 

Of course, if you don’t want to read it, I’ll be nice and give you the gist. In this universe, Katie figures out in the nick of time that Jonesy is the scum of the earth, and she doesn’t marry him. Instead, she and Jim move to Ten Acres to live with Uncle James. This decision changes history, not only for Katie and Jim, but for several other characters throughout the series. This universe will explore how everything might have been different had Katie not married Jonesy.

At the conclusion of the alternate ending, Katie and Jim were helping to clean up Ten Acres, Katie’s good health was returning, and Jim had just run into that harum-scarum Belden girl. J    

Chapter One

“Yoo-hoo! Anybody home?” Trixie Belden stuck her sandy head in the kitchen door of Ten Acres.

          Katie Frayne smiled and cheerily called, “Come in, dear!”

          Trixie Belden and her brothers, Brian and Mart, were frequent guests in the Frayne home. They were all close friends with Katie’s fifteen-year-old son, Jim. Of all the Belden children, Katie was perhaps most fond of the curious, curly-headed girl.

          “Whatcha doin’?” Trixie asked, plopping in one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

          “Just baking some cookies,” Katie answered with a grin. “Although I don’t know why, considering Jim and your brothers aren’t here to eat them.” The boys were all at summer camp, acting as junior counselors. They were expected to return home in another month.

          Trixie sighed loudly. “Golly, it sure is lonely around here without the boys. I wish I could’ve gone to camp, too.”

          Katie grinned at the exuberant girl before her. She knew that it was killing Trixie to be left out of the fun. “They’ll be back before you know it. I got a letter from Jim the other day. I think he’s missing you.”

Katie slyly peeked at Trixie’s reaction. She suspected that the sandy blonde had a crush on her son. And she was quite sure that Jim was fond of Trixie as well, although neither of them made this fact known to anyone else.

There are just some things a mother knows, Katie thought, pleased at the slight blush on the young girl’s face. She put some of the freshly baked cookies on a plate, poured two glasses of milk, and sat down at the table with her son’s special friend.

          “What’s your mother doing today?” Katie asked.

          “Gleeps! I forgot to give you your message!” Trixie exclaimed, almost spilling her milk in her excitement. “Moms sent me over here to ask if you still wanted to ride with her to the Garden Club meeting later today.”

          “That would be nice,” Katie agreed. “Is your mother busy in her garden now?”

          Trixie nodded as she swallowed a bite of her chocolate chip cookie. “Moms is transplanting tomatoes.”

          Just then, gruff Mr. Frayne stuck his head through the doorway. He spied Trixie and groaned. “If it isn’t that harum-scarum Belden girl!” he complained loudly. “Why are you eating up all my cookies? Don’t those parents of yours ever feed you?”

          Trixie grinned at the old man. “I’ve saved a few for you, Uncle James.” Since she and her brothers had become close to Jim, they had gotten to know his elderly relative quite well. He had quickly gone from “Mr. Frayne” to “Uncle James”.

 According to Mrs. Belden, when Nell Frayne had been alive, James had been a lovable old man. The Fraynes had been kind to Peter and Helen when the young couple first moved back to Sleepyside from the city. The elderly Fraynes, not having any children of their own, adored Brian and Mart. They enjoyed playing with the rambunctious boys and were the children’s favorite baby-sitters.

However, when Trixie was just a small baby, Nell died from a bite from a copperhead, and James became a resentful, unhappy recluse. He shut himself off from the rest of the world, earning a reputation as a strange miser. He boarded up the upstairs to his home and let the property grow over with weeds. The mansion that had once been a showplace quickly became a rundown eyesore.

The Beldens tried to help their neighbor, but a bitter property dispute between Peter and James made the stubborn old man refuse further contact with the well-meaning family. His only dealings with his once-beloved Belden children were to yell at them to stay out of his yard. Trixie had been so small when all this transpired that she didn’t remember how James used to be. To her, he was just a mean, old miser who dressed like a scarecrow.

Katie Frayne, James’ nephew’s widow, and her son, Jim, had come to live at Ten Acres a few years before.  Once they moved in, Uncle James had slowly returned to his old self. The benefit of having loving family members there melted his bitterness. He even reconciled with Peter Belden, admitting he only argued about the boundary to break off contact with them. Uncle James maintained his gruff exterior, but Trixie knew he had a heart of gold underneath his grumblings.

          There had been a big change in the Ten Acres property, as well, when Katie and Jim Frayne came to live there. They had worked hard to restore the mansion to its former beauty. Now, Ten Acres was a clean and comfortable home.

          Uncle James enjoyed renewing the contact with his old friends. Peter Belden came over frequently to help with larger repairs. Helen Belden became close friends with Katie Frayne. James delighted in spending time with Brian and Mart, to whom he had often read stories and played hide-and-go-seek with when they were small. He was entertained by the antics of the newest Belden, Bobby, who at six years old was a bundle of energy and a constant threat of mischief. Uncle James often laughed so hard he had tears in his eyes watching the littlest Belden chase that “confounded mutt” around his yard.

But, though he would never admit it, his favorite Belden was the curly-headed blonde girl with the big blue eyes and the contagious smile. Uncle James and “Beatrix”, as he insisted upon calling her, had a special relationship. Always surrounded by boys, Uncle James treated Beatrix as the daughter he’d never had but always wanted.

James especially enjoyed watching the interaction between his great-nephew and this girl. He would sit back and behold their teasing banter and grin as Jim tugged one of Trixie’s wayward curls. Often, Uncle James’ green eyes would grow misty as he remembered the girl with curly blonde locks who had stolen his heart over sixty years ago.

Those blonde curls get us Frayne men every time, he’d think, glancing over at Katie Frayne, whose fair-colored waves were held back with a clip.

Uncle James would never admit it, but he was quite pleased that Beatrix had stopped by today to visit. He had been missing the energy and excitement the youngsters provided since the boys had been away. Uncle James grinned at the sandy-headed girl and grabbed a cookie. “What are you up to today, Beatrix? Your confounded dog isn’t chasing Queenie, is he?”

          Trixie wiped the cookie crumbs from her shirt. “I was just delivering a message from Moms. I’d better get back to see if she needs my help in the garden.”

          “Yes, I think you’ve eaten more than your share of my cookies,” Uncle James said with a frown that both Katie and Trixie knew was feigned. “And Katie, as much as I hate to, I’d better walk this little whippersnapper home. There’s been a strange dog sighted around these parts. Mr. Lytell said he heard it was foaming at the mouth. I wouldn’t want Peter Belden to sue me because Beatrix was bitten by some mutt with hydrophobia on my property.”

          “Oh, that Mr. Lytell is nothing but a big gossip,” Trixie said in exasperation. “And you know how he likes to exaggerate. I bet he made the whole thing up.”

          Uncle James’ face flushed with anger, and he stared at her through narrowed green eyes. “I never make things up, Beatrix Belden.”

          Katie laughed, enjoying the spat. “Oh, Uncle James! You’re letting that infamous Frayne temper get the best of you. Besides, Trixie wasn’t saying you made it up; she was talking about Mr. Lytell. And she’s right. Mr. Lytell has certainly earned his reputation as a gossip.”

          Uncle James pointed his finger at Katie. “Katie, you remember that mad weasel that Jimmy killed. Win kept the body and showed it to them warden fellas, and if he ha—”

          “I remember, Uncle James,” Katie interrupted. “We wouldn’t want anything to happen to Trixie, so you’d better walk her home. Jim would be very angry if anything happened to her while he was away.” She smiled as she noticed the tell-tale blush appear on Trixie’s cheeks.

          Uncle James snorted. “If I let anything happen to this little lady, that boy of yours would really let us have a dose of that Frayne temper.”

Katie winked at Trixie. “You’re right as usual, Uncle James. I have some laundry to do before I leave for the Garden Club meeting, so you go ahead and walk Trixie home.”

          Trixie and Uncle James headed to the well-worn path between Crabapple Farm and Ten Acres. Trixie noticed that the old man was having difficulty keeping up, so she discreetly slowed her pace.

        “Do you really think there’s a mad dog around, Uncle James?” she asked.

         Uncle James wheezed as they made their way down the path. “That’s what I heard. Those critters with hydrophobia are awfully dangerous. I wouldn’t want one to attack you out here by yourself.” He covered his mouth as he was overcome by a raspy coughing fit. Once he got his breath, they continued walking.

          Trixie grabbed the old man’s hand. “I’m sorry I doubted you, Uncle James. I know you’re just looking out for me.” His larger freckled hand gently gave her own hand a squeeze. She noticed it felt clammy. “Are you feeling all right, Uncle James?”

          “I’m fit as a fiddle,” Uncle James snapped, but his voice sounded weak and his breathing seemed a bit shallow.  “Are you plotting to sneak in my house and hunt for my money?”

          Trixie sniffed indignantly. “I was just worried about you. You seem to be moving a little slower than usual.”

          “Don’t you fret yourself over me, Beatrix Belden. I’m fine.” He coughed and tried to catch his breath. They came to the Beldens’ property, the white farmhouse just in sight. “Think you can find your way from here?”

          “I’ll be all right. Thank you for walking me home, Uncle James.” Trixie gave the gruff old man a quick hug.

          “You run along,” Uncle James said, his voice containing a hint of tenderness. He patted her curls, then turned towards his own property.

          Trixie ran to the garden where she found her mother transplanting tomatoes. “Hey, Moms! Mrs. Frayne said she’d ride with you to the meeting.”

          “My goodness, Trixie!” Mrs. Belden exclaimed. “You’re going to get heatstroke running all the way from Ten Acres. It’s too hot out here for that.”

          “I didn’t run all the way, just the last little bit. Uncle James walked me home, so I couldn’t walk as fast as I normally do. He was moving kind of slow today.”

          “I hope he’s all right,” Mrs. Belden remarked. “Katie mentioned he hasn’t been himself lately. I’m glad you took it easy on him.”

“You know, Moms, you wouldn’t have to worry about me running in the heat if you and Daddy would get me that horse I’ve been wanting,” Trixie casually replied.

          Mrs. Belden raised her head long enough to roll her eyes at her daughter. “Are we back to this subject? I thought we discussed it at breakfast. If you’ll excuse the phrase, there’s no need to whip a dead horse, dear.”

          “Oh, Moms!” Trixie moaned, running her hands through her short, sandy curls. “I’ll just die if I don’t have a horse!”

          “Trixie,” her mother chided, trying to look stern, “if you died as many times as you thought you were going to, you’d have to be a cat with nine lives to be with us for one day.”

          “I don’t care!” Tears of indignation welled up in Trixie’s round blue eyes. “With the boys at camp this summer, I’ll die of boredom. I mean it, Moms.”

          “If you’re that bored, then maybe you can go upstairs, and help clean your younger brother’s room,” Mrs. Belden suggested with a twinkle in her eyes.

          “But, Moms!” Trixie exclaimed. “That’s not any fun!”

          “Well, I thought it might be a good way for you to earn the money for your dream horse, but if you aren’t interested…”

          Trixie’s countenance suddenly changed, and she was back to her exuberant self. “What do you mean, Moms? Could I really earn the money for my horse?”

          Mrs. Belden laughed. “You certainly can. There’s plenty to do around here with Brian and Mart away. I’ll pay you something every week if you help me with Bobby and the housework. And I know Daddy would be glad to increase your allowance if you do some weeding in the garden every day and take over Mart’s chore of feeding the chickens and gathering the eggs.”

          “Oh, Moms!” Trixie hugged her mother. “I’ll get started right away! I’ll go up right this minute and help Bobby straighten his room!” The young girl turned and bounded up the stairs. In her excitement, she missed seeing the moving vans driving to the huge estate that bordered Crabapple Farm on the west.

Chapter Two

          Meanwhile, at the Manor House mansion up the hill from the hollow, Matthew Wheeler oversaw the moving company employees as they unloaded his expensive furniture from their vans. Fearing they would mistreat his priceless and irreplaceable antiques, Matthew kept an eagle eye on the men as they unpacked the contents and placed them where Miss Trask, the estate manager, ordered.

          Matthew’s presence there certainly kept the movers on their toes. He had a power about him that demanded respect.  The head mover kept nervously glancing in Matthew’s direction and whispering to his men to be careful. The boss knew that one nick or gash in a table could cost him his job. Matthew Wheeler’s reputation as a savvy businessman garnered him much respect. People were afraid to cross him, in either his personal or business life.

          Once everything met his satisfaction, Matthew went to the stables to make sure his horses were being well cared for. He needn’t have worried; the newly hired groom, Bill Regan, was a perfectionist. The stables were cleaner than most homes, and the horses were fed, watered, and resting comfortably in their stalls. Regan, as he preferred to be called, was organizing the equipment in the tack room. Seeing his boss enter the room, Regan called out a welcome.

          “Hullo, Mr. Wheeler,” Regan said with a grin. “Does everything meet your satisfaction here?”

          Matthew studied the well-tended stables and patted the young groom on the back. “Looks good, Regan. I can see that you have a genuine concern for the animals. That means a lot.”

          “Thank you, sir. I’m glad to hear you say that. I really appreciate this job, and I intend prove it.”

          “Well, judging by your work so far, we’re lucky to have you,” Matthew replied.

The few facts that Matthew Wheeler knew about the young man were provided by Regan’s sparse résumé. He knew Regan’s full name was William Aidan Regan, he was twenty-two- years-old, and had grown up in an orphanage. Matthew’s security team did a background check on him, but didn’t find any arrests or outstanding warrants. 

Regan had worked the past couple years at an acquaintance’s stable as an assistant groom. His former employer was sorry to lose such a hardworking employee, but was glad to see him offered such a promising position and had given him excellent references.  Regan had no other places of employment listed on his résumé, but his experience seemed to belie the fact that he had only worked with horses the past couple of years. Matthew wondered if the young man had worked at another stable but had not listed it on his résumé.

          “Will you want to take Jupiter out for a ride later, or would you prefer me to exercise him?” Regan asked. “He’s getting kind of antsy and needs a good working out.”

          “Honey and I will go for a ride later this afternoon. I think it would be good for her to get out for awhile. It may take her mind off of things.” Matthew unconsciously picked at an invisible piece of lint on his polo shirt.

          “I know riding has given me a lot of comfort through the years,” Regan admitted.

          Matthew sensed that the young stableman was uncomfortable revealing something so personal, so he chose not to comment about it. He hoped that in time the groom would come to trust him and be able to confide in him. Matthew sensed Regan carried a great weight on his broad shoulders. 

          “Is your apartment comfortable?” he asked, changing the subject.

          Regan nodded. “Yes, sir. I wasn’t expecting to have an apartment all to myself. It’s the nicest place I’ve ever stayed in. Thank you for providing it.”

          “I’m glad you like it.” Matthew smiled kindly at his employee. “We want to keep you happy around here. Good trainers are hard to find.”  After a final pat on Regan’s shoulder, Matthew left him to his organizing.

          He went back to the house and found his thirteen-year-old daughter, Honey, sitting on the steps outside the house. “Did you get settled in your new room, Princess?”

          Honey nodded, her tawny-colored hair bobbing. “Yes, Daddy. It’s a lovely room.”

        Matthew was pleased. His daughter had picked out the furnishings and color scheme before they had moved in. He had hired a decorator to get the room ready as a surprise to Honey. Her suite was decorated with white organdy curtains and a matching bedspread. A big, white, fluffy rug graced the polished floor. The walls were covered with wildflower wallpaper that had accents of the yellow color that Honey adored. She had her own bathroom with a separate glassed-in shower and a sunken tub that was big enough to have served as a small child’s wading pool. 

          Matthew smiled and sat down beside his daughter. He lovingly placed an arm around her slim shoulders. “Do you think you’ll like it here, sweetheart?”

          “Oh, yes. It’s a beautiful house, and I love having the horses here. It’ll be fun to swim in our very own lake someday,” Honey answered, her voice having a hint of sadness.

          “Is something wrong?” Matthew Wheeler would move Heaven and earth to please his only child. He could tell that something was bothering her, and if it was in his power, he’d do what he could to make it right.

          Honey shrugged. “I suppose I’m just lonely. I wish I had someone my own age around here to spend time with. Miss Trask is busy organizing the house, and I don’t want to ride or swim by myself.”

          “How about I take a ride with you after I get some work done?”

          Honey smiled at her father. “That would be nice, Daddy. I always enjoy spending time with you.”

          Matthew studied his daughter. Her tact was legendary, especially in one so young, but it was obvious that sometimes Daddy could not fill the void of a companion one’s own age.

        “You know, I went into town yesterday to open up an account at the local bank, and the bank officer I spoke with lives in that white farmhouse down in the hollow. He mentioned that he has a daughter just your age.”

          Honey’s hazel eyes sparkled and for the first time in a long time, a genuine smile brightened her face. “Oh, Daddy! Do you think she might come to visit?”

          “I don’t know,” he grinned. “If she doesn’t, maybe you can ride down to her house.”

          “Wouldn’t that be rude?” She looked aghast at her father’s suggestion.

          Matthew laughed. “It might be considered rude in the city, but things around here are a lot different. Folks are generally a lot friendlier in the country, where things are less formal. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if you and our little neighbor ran into each other very soon.”

          “It would be nice to have someone my age to spend time with,” Honey shyly admitted. “I was so sick at school that I didn’t get to make many friends. It would be wonderful to have my very own friend who lived down the road.”

          Matthew lovingly stroked his daughter’s honey-colored hair. “I know life hasn’t always been fair to us, Honey, but I have a feeling that things are going to get better for us here in Sleepyside. I can’t make up for all the time we’ve missed together, but I’m going to do my best to not make the same mistakes. We’re going to be a real family here.”

          “I love you, Daddy!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around her father. “I just know we’re going to be so happy here! I’m going to go get ready for our ride. Do you think we can leave in an hour or so?”

          Matthew nodded, too choked up to speak. His daughter’s simple embrace had filled his heart with more joy than all those millions he had in the bank. After she kissed his cheek, she ran inside the house to prepare for their ride.

Chapter Three

          Matthew stared out over his property. It was beautiful here. The trees, the flowers, the birds singing… Everything was so fresh and clean. It would be a nuisance commuting to the city every day, but it would be well worth it. He would endure any nuisance if it helped his daughter’s health return to her.

          Matthew sighed. Both his wife, Madeleine, and his daughter had always been sickly and delicate. The past winter had been especially difficult. Honey had gotten extremely ill at her boarding school and needed to be taken home. Madeleine was planning on attending some high society party and had been quite angry at the abrupt change of plans when Matthew insisted she accompany him to pick up their daughter.

          It had been well worth the bitter argument in the limo ride to the school to see Honey’s face when both her mother and father arrived to pick her up. Though weak and pale, her hazel eyes shined at the sight of her mother. Honey was so ill that they were forced to remain at the school for several days until she was well enough to travel. In fact, she had been so sick, that the doctors were not expecting her to live. Matthew Wheeler considered himself a very blessed man to take his little girl home.

          Once they arrived at their New York apartment, Madeleine gave full charge of her daughter to Miss Lefferts, who was Honey’s governess at the time. Matthew secretly thought that Miss Lefferts would have made a better drill sergeant than governess, but he was too afraid of his wife’s wrath to point that out.

        Miss Lefferts had numerous tedious activities planned for Honey to do while she recovered from her illness. Matthew wondered if the girl might prefer watching television instead of engaging in those dreadfully dull needlepoint projects, but Madeleine insisted it was a proper activity for a girl of Honey’s standing.

          One evening, while passing by Honey’s room, Matthew heard her sobbing. He quietly entered the room, sat on the bed, and took his fragile daughter in his arms. After crying a bit more, Honey told her father how she despised her uncaring governess. Honey had a math instructor, Miss Trask, who would make such a better governess, in her opinion. Miss Trask cared for her invalid sister, and Honey knew that she didn’t make a good salary at the boarding school.

          Deciding his daughter’s happiness was worth far more than peace with his wife, Matthew called Miss Lefferts into his office and relieved her of her duties. He then proceeded to call Miss Trask at the boarding school and offer her the position as Honey’s governess. Miss Trask happily accepted.

          Matthew’s feeling of well-being was short lived, however. After Madeleine discovered that Miss Lefferts had been fired, she stormed into his study and began screaming at him. She accused him of having an affair with Miss Trask and hiring her just so his mistress would be within easy access. When Matthew pronounced the charges ludicrous, she began hurling things at him and screeching obscenities.

          They engaged in a fierce screaming match, neither refusing to budge. Matthew insisted that Honey’s desires be considered first. He believed hiring this Miss Trask would help his daughter’s recovery. However, Madeleine insisted that Miss Lefferts stay and continue teaching their daughter manners and proper social graces. Madeleine was sure that this Miss Trask would not be a suitable governess, and would eventually turn their daughter into a dungaree-wearing commoner.

          Once she discovered that Matthew would not budge, Madeleine threatened him. She insisted that Honey was her daughter, and her namesake, so she would be the one to plan Honey’s future. She said Matthew would make decisions regarding Honey over her dead body. If he insisted on being difficult, she would leave him immediately, file for divorce, and gain sole custody. With all the Harts’ influence and money, she was sure to get her way.

Deep in his heart, Matthew knew she was right. He was an extremely wealthy man by ordinary standards, but he could not compete with the Hart Empire. They made their money the old-fashioned way; they stole it. Two hundred years ago, William Hart made his money by manipulating his neighbors out of their land and selling it for far more than it was worth. His underhanded methods worked, in spite of being illegal.

The Hart family’s tradition of corruption worsened through every generation. Now, of course, they were so wealthy that their dishonest ways of building their fortunes were covered up or overlooked. They had become one of the most powerful and influential families in North America. Matthew knew that their ties to the judicial system would ensure his loss of custody of his only child.

He went to bed in the guest bedroom, tossing and turning all night long. He wanted to make his daughter happy. Her life had been a misery, spent in boarding schools and camps. Madeleine Hart Wheeler had never wanted a child; she wanted a suitable heir to the Hart family fortune.

After the recent scare regarding Honey’s health, he vowed to make several changes in the Wheeler house. He wanted to get to know his daughter and become a real father to her. He wanted to spend more time with her and discover what kind of person she was becoming. He wanted to learn what her favorite color was, what books she liked to read, what she liked to do in her spare time.

 Matthew was ashamed that he could run a multi-million dollar enterprise, know every single employee’s name, and have memorized the past five years’ quarterly profits, yet he didn’t know what his only child’s favorite food was.

However, he knew that if he made his daughter happy by getting rid of her drill sergeant governess, he could lose her forever. If he and Madeleine became involved in a nasty divorce, the Harts would do their best to turn Honey against him. Even worse, they would have total control of her life and turn his sweet-natured child into a money-hungry viper.

Madeleine’s nephew, Benjamin Riker, was a good example of this. After his mother and father’s divorce several years ago, the Harts gained custody of Ben. He was a bright boy, but had been practically ruined by the lack of supervision. Ben hungered for attention, and the only way he knew to get it was to get into mischief.

The trait Matthew despised perhaps the most was that Ben coveted the finer things in life, yet he had no desire to work. This lack of work ethic, combined with extravagant tastes, guaranteed Ben would follow in the Harts’ footsteps. Matthew Wheeler did not want his Honey to be corrupted.

The next morning, Matthew made the difficult decision to rehire Miss Lefferts and do his best to reconcile with Madeleine. Convincing himself he was doing this for Honey, he headed down the long hallway to grovel at his wife’s feet. Before he could get there, however, Madeleine’s personal maid ran screaming from his wife’s bedroom.

“Mr. Wheeler! Come in here right away!” she sobbed, pulling him into the room.

There he found his wife, asleep on the bed. Except she wasn’t asleep; she was dead. Apparently, she had once again ignored the warnings about mixing alcohol and sleeping pills and had overdosed.

And over her dead body, Matthew Wheeler gained control of his life.

Honey wept and mourned for her mother, as if Madeleine had been “Mother of the Year.”  Sweet Honey, nicknamed for her pleasant disposition, as well as her honey-colored hair, was so distraught that Matthew feared she would relapse. Watching her sob at the funeral, he decided to turn their lives upside-down in hopes of turning it right-side up.

Through their hardships, he learned a valuable lesson. He learned that you can have all the money in the world, and it will not make you happy. Money can buy a bed, but it cannot buy sleep. Money can buy food, but it cannot feed a hungering soul. Money can buy a house, but it cannot buy a home.

Matthew decided to move away from the hustle and bustle of the city to a little town called Sleepyside. He bought a mansion on Glen Road, complete with a stable, a lake, and a forest preserve. He hoped his and Honey’s wounds could heal in this beautiful setting.

He looked at his Rolex. In a few minutes, Honey would be down to go on their ride, and he still had not gotten any work done. He sighed, thinking of the forms that were piled up on his desk. It would take him all night to catch up from taking this day off.

With a rueful smile, he went into the house and went up the stairs. Work would have to wait; he needed to change clothes for an afternoon ride with his biggest and most important investment.

Author’s notes:

Thank you so much to my wonderful editors, Kaye and Kathy. I appreciate your help so much! I know it takes a lot of effort removing the “hillbilly” out of my writing!

Thank you to the lovely Carol, who found these beautiful graphics! {{{HUGS}}}

Thank you to those who enjoyed the alternate ending of “Keeping Up With the Joneses” and encouraged me to begin an alternate universe. I had a lot of fun writing this. My apologies to the Madeleine Wheeler fans out there. Believe me, this version was a lot nicer than the first one I started. J  I adore the Madeleine Wheeler that a lot of fanfic writers have created, but I didn’t care for the one in the books. I just didn’t buy that bit about her being too shy to be a good mother. So I killed her off. J

Although I didn’t care for Madeleine, I adore Matthew Wheeler, and I decided to give him a bigger part in this universe. And I have a soft spot in my heart for widowers. My mother died when I was 14, and my father was left to raise three children. I always felt the weight he carried, and I tried to portray that in Matthew.

I have grown to love Katie and James. One reason for this alternate uni was to explore their characters more. After writing for Katie in the Jonesy story, I really hated sticking her with that creep. She deserves better! By the end, I felt as if we were dear friends, and I couldn’t bear for her part in this story to be over.

And Uncle James is such a fun character! I’m so glad that I got a chance to know him. He’s very thankful that I’ve prolonged his life and brought his family back to him. He also asked me to thank the wardrobe department for the new clothes. Uncle James is based on my grandfather who likes to pretend he is gruff, but is really an old softie! I had fun mentioning that all the Frayne men had a weakness for curly-headed blondes. I bet those Fraynes have a lot of interesting family history. I’m glad I’ve had a chance to work with Uncle James and get to know him a little better.  However, I’m kind of worried about that cough…

And I suppose I should throw in the usual disclaimers. These aren’t my characters, and I admit to not only stealing them, but also wrecking the program with them! Some of the text from this story is directly quoted from “The Secret of the Mansion.” I didn’t ask Random House’s permission, but I doubt I’d get it, anyway! I promise to take very good care of these delightful characters and return them virtually unscathed. Well, except for Mrs. Wheeler… J

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