This story takes place 3 months before Come in from the Cold. The title comes from a poem by Peter McWilliams. Thank you, Kyrie, for editing this for me. And thank you to everyone who has asked me when they can expect the next story. I can't even begin to tell you what it means to me! 

I dedicate the ending of this chapter to the new Queen of Cliffhangers, Carol! *bag*

The Secret Spaces of the Gods

Chapter One

Trixie woke with a start in a pitch black room and for one awful moment still felt like she was falling. She couldn’t remember what she’d been dreaming about, but whatever it was, it was bad. Bad in the way that makes your entire body jerk. So bad that your body simply won’t understand that it was just a dream.

Trixie took deep healing breaths for a moment, telling herself that it was just a dream, just a dream. But the hint of terrible, dark, faceless visions still danced behind her eyelids, images filled with loss, despair and a nameless, haunting fear. Trixie shivered. She did remember that there had been an awful, jagged, crying sound. And then an emptiness so complete that even the ground below her had vanished, leaving Trixie in a hideous free-fall through time and space.

It was no use—her body wouldn’t listen to her. She began the laborious process of turning onto her side, the advanced state of her pregnancy making even this simple movement difficult. And, as it turned out, all for nothing. Instead of encountering Jim’s comforting presence, there was only empty space. She felt ridiculous when she remembered that she wasn’t at home.

Trixie was in a hotel room in Washington, D.C., where she had testified in an FBI matter just that day. Trixie had known she couldn’t survive the 5-hour car ride with the current state of her bladder and had opted to take Amtrak and spend the night. Plus, it gave her an opportunity to have dinner with her friend Dana whom she had met online through her Lucy Radcliffe message board since she wasn’t returning to Sleepyside until the next morning.

I should have listened to her and not ordered that cheese steak with jalapeño peppers, she thought ruefully. She rolled onto her back and stared into space, brushing impatiently at her eyes when she felt moisture begin to pool in them. “It was just a dream, dummy,” she muttered out loud. She began her old trick of tensing and relaxing her muscles, but sleep continued to elude her. She just couldn’t stop re-living a dream that she couldn’t even really remember. Who was it making that awful crying sound? Was it Katy?

Trixie glanced at the clock. She shouldn’t—she really shouldn’t.  It was so late.

She tried counting sheep. She tried listing all the Lucy Radcliffe titles in order. She tried reciting all the Beatles songs she could think of in alphabetical order, but her heart continued to thump miserably in her chest. To add to the fun, the baby awoke and began merrily kicking her in the ribs.

Trixie sighed, gave up, and got out of bed. She found her briefcase and snapped it open, extracting her cell phone. She was surprised when Jim answered on the first ring and didn’t even sound sleepy.

“Hi,” she said softly.

“Trix! What’s wrong?”

Trixie sighed, but what else could he think at one o’clock in the morning? “Um, nothing really. It’s silly. I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

“No, I was up anyway. Think I’m getting the flu or something.”

Jim was never sick. “Really? Oh no!” She was relieved when he laughed a little.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll just take a few aspirin, and I’m sure I’ll feel better tomorrow.”

Trixie was feeling a bit better and was about to tell him to go to sleep when he pounced. “And enough about me anyway. What cooks? You don’t generally call this late for nothing.” When she didn’t answer, he added, “What is it, love?”

Trixie never could resist it when Jim’s voice got that tender note. “I just had the worst dream, and I can’t get back to sleep. And your child is kicking me!” she finished, a bit dramatically. Jim asked her what the dream was about, and she had to admit that she couldn’t remember it.

“How can you be scared of something you can’t even remember?” Jim reasonably wanted to know, but Trixie had no answer for this.

“I know. It’s stupid.” She paused, but her voice wavered a little anyway. “I wish I was there with you,” she admitted.

“I wish you were too. I can’t sleep unless I rub your back until my hands go numb,” Jim teased.

Trixie smiled and felt some of the dream finally fade. “And it’s really killing me, too,” she admitted. Although she’d had a few twinges during her pregnancy with Katy it was nothing like the ache that she was experiencing with this one.

She heard Jim sigh. “That does it. You aren’t testifying in any more FBI cases. I don’t feel good, and you’re clearly falling apart without me!”

They laughed softly together, and Trixie yawned. “Baby, I think I’m finally ready for sleep. But I need you to do something and it’s going to sound a little crazy…” She spoke for a moment.

She waited, and then she heard it, reassuringly gentle sounds that let her know that Jim had fulfilled her request and was now holding the cordless phone over Katy while she slept.

“Feel better, Shamus?” Jim whispered.

“Mmm hmm, “ Trixie murmured. “I miss you both like crazy.

“We miss you too. I offered to sing Katy her lullaby earlier, but she told me in this very serious voice that I read the story and you sing. That was the rule.” He affected the bossy little tone their daughter sometimes got in her voice.

Trixie laughed, her nightmare fading away entirely. “Sounds like Miss Katy.” She couldn’t hold back her yawn. “I think I can sleep now. Go take your aspirin and get some rest. And hey—the school won’t collapse if you decide to take tomorrow off. Mart and Regan can handle things.” Since it was still summer, there weren’t nearly as many academic classes anyway. Summer at Ten Acres Academy focused almost entirely on all the outdoor events the school had to offer, like hunting, camping, fishing, hiking and horseback riding.

Jim couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken an unexpected day off. “I’ll think about it. Sweet dreams this time. I’ll see you tomorrow night. Love you.”

“Love you too. Night.” Trixie shut her phone and set it on the nightstand, yawning broadly. She was willing to bet he went in anyway. She tried to picture her active husband taking it easy and couldn’t quite manage it.

She settled into the only position she could sleep in these days, annoyingly flat on her back, and felt herself drift pleasantly away. “Silly dream,” she mumbled before her eyes closed.

***

Jim cut the connection and stood gazing down at his daughter for a moment. He understood what it felt like to have bad dreams. The worst dreams of them all were the ones involving his little girl. Luckily, he rarely had them. He hoped Trixie would be able to get back to sleep.

He straightened the covers over Katy and softly kissed her forehead before returning to his own room, moving slowly. He was so damn fatigued, and every step he took made his bones feel as if they were made of glass. He went into the bathroom and stood before the medicine cabinet, blearily looking at his flushed face. He was dripping with sweat, and his eyes felt like they were cooking in his head. He gripped the edges of the sink as a sudden wave of dizziness hit him.

Whoa, he thought, taking deep breaths until his equilibrium returned. Damn it, he really was sick. He hoped Katy didn’t catch it, whatever it was. He opened the cabinet and shook three aspirins into his palm, taking them with a glass of water. The cool water felt good going down. He returned to bed and wearily slid under the covers. He couldn’t remember a time when he felt worse. He’d have to call his mother-in-law tomorrow and have her pick up Katy. And he needed to call Mart and Regan as well.

Jim’s head began to throb at the thought of everything that needed to be done. He found himself wishing he’d taken his brother-in-law Mart’s advice the other day. Mart had noticed the fatigue that Jim thought he’d successfully hidden and had told him he should take a few days off. That he’d been working too hard. Trixie had broached the very same subject herself before she left for D.C. so Jim had inwardly chuckled at the way the “almost twins” seemed to always be on the same wavelength. It was scary how much alike they were sometimes.

And he’d reacted the same way to both of them, telling them that he was just fine and he didn’t need a day off. He figured it was just the humidity, nothing more.

Jim finally dropped into a deadening sleep, wondering why he had to get sick when his life was so busy.

***

It was morning and Katy Frayne was hungry. She went downstairs so her father could fix her something to eat and was surprised to find the kitchen empty. She stood there for a moment in her bright red nightgown, shoving the curls that always got into her eyes out of the way before returning upstairs.

She went into her parents’ room and started to giggle at the sight of her father, fast asleep. This could be fun! She ran and jumped on him.

“It’s time to get up!” she sang, bouncing on his stomach. Daddy was obviously pretending to be asleep. Katy grinned. She loved to play games and especially with Daddy. She began to laugh and bounce harder, chanting, “Get up, get up, get up!” But he just lay there, which confused the little girl. Why wasn’t he playing? Why didn’t he swoop her into his arms and blow a raspberry on her tummy like he always did?

“Daaaaddy!” she protested, sliding off of him and curling into his side. She laid her head on his chest and frowned. She was suddenly scared and didn’t know why.

“Daddy?” she ventured, pushing herself onto her knees so she could gaze down onto him.

Daddy sounded funny, and he didn’t look too good. After a minute, Katy started to cry and shake him. She didn’t want to play anymore. She wanted her daddy to kiss her and tell her everything was just fine. Then they could go downstairs and make cinnamon toast.

“Wake up! Please wake up!” she sobbed. She suddenly knew they weren’t playing a game, that this was even more terrible than the time she thought a monster was hiding in her closet. On that occasion Daddy had shone a flashlight in the closet and had shown her that there wasn’t anything but clothes in there. That there wasn’t anything to be afraid of. He had stroked her hair and had told her that all the monsters in the world knew that he and Mommy lived here. That they wouldn’t dare come into her room because they would kill them all. That she would always be safe.

***

Trixie sighed and settled into her seat as the train pulled out of Union Station. As it turned out, she had slept fitfully after she had gotten off the phone with Jim, unable to completely shake the feeling that something was wrong. She’d be glad to get home and sleep in her own bed. Even if it is flat on my back! she thought ruefully.

The baby was due in about 3 weeks. And even though she wouldn’t be getting a whole lot of sleep for awhile, at least what little she did would be in her preferred sleeping position—partially on her left side and on her stomach, with her right arm draped over Jim’s chest.

“Are you all right?” a voice asked.

Trixie opened her eyes and smiled at the gray haired woman sitting across from her, assuring her that she was fine.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but you look a little pale and tired. Would you like an orange juice? I have an extra one,” the woman said, rummaging in the little cooler by her side.

Trixie gratefully accepted, and the two women began to chat, the older woman telling her about the three children she’d had and what her pregnancies were like. Trixie was used to this by now—there was something about the sight of a pregnant woman that made other women feel they had to share their child birthing stories. Trixie didn’t really mind unless the stories got graphic. And at least this woman wasn’t rubbing her belly. Trixie couldn’t believe how people would just walk up to her and touch her stomach. She didn’t mind when her family and friends did it, but these were complete strangers!

Her cell phone began to ring, and she flashed the other woman an apologetic smile as she rummaged through her briefcase and retrieved her phone. She recognized her own number on the screen and smiled.

“Hey Jim,” she murmured. “Feeling better?” She heard crying and unconsciously stiffened as an unwanted memory from her dream the night before suffused her. “Katy, is that you, angel? What’s wrong—where’s Daddy?” she said, trying to keep the urgency out of her voice. They had taught Katy how to use the speed dial on the family phone, but had also warned her that the telephone was not a toy. Katy knew that she wasn’t allowed to use the phone without permission, so Trixie didn’t know what to think. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

“I’m scared, Mommy. Please come home!”

Trixie gasped. “What’s happening?” she cried. The woman across from her looked at her with concern filling her kindly face.

Trixie barely noticed. She unknowingly dropped the orange juice onto the floor, the bottle slipping from her nerveless fingers as Katy’s answer made all the blood run out of her face.

“Daddy won’t get up!”

  Next

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