"What's this?"

Dr. Garrett grinned, opening the leather kit he was holding out to her. "15 years ago today, you started working here. Well, Ness, I thought you deserved a gift for that." In truth, he felt guilty for not having given her anything before. She refused his offers to have dinner with his family whenever invited, and since she didn't remember her date birth, he couldn't give her anything for that, either.

Gazing in the bag, Vanessa noted the various tools and consumables. This was a doctor's bag, almost matching the one Dr. Garrett used for house calls. "Thank you, Doctor," she smiled, accepting his gift.

"I thought we might up your salary again; what do you say Dr. Ness?"

"But I'm not a-"

Garrett waved his hand dismissively. "Well that's what I'm calling you from now on, anyhow. You can join me in surgery, and make house calls on your own, and-"

"I'd rather not," she interrupted. "Make house calls. By myself."

Dr. Garrett paused, then nodded, slowly. He paused to clean his glasses. "Of course, of course. Ness, I see you everyday; I think I take your looks for granted. Not easy being a gorgeous young woman in this world, is it?" he added sympathetically.

She knew his concern was genuine. Although she'd never said a word to anyone about what had happened to her, due to her looks, somehow Dr. Garrett always seemed to understand. When she requested the afternoon off because certain people were coming in for appointments, he didn't question it. When she began turning down dates (years ago) he didn't think it odd. He told her a story once, after treating a young woman for sexual injuries, that he'd had a daughter who was raped and killed by a gang when traveling. It changed the way he looked at pretty women, he'd said, as a tear rolled down his wrinkled cheek.

"And you have it ever the more difficult, don't you Ness – you know I don't believe you look a day older than when first we met!"

Vanessa blushed, looking down as she clutched the medical bag nervously. She wished he'd stop mentioning that. 15 years ago, she'd started there, when Dr. Garrett's hair was brown and back was straight. His hair became gray, his back crooked, his wrinkles showing his age, yet she honestly had not changed. It was supposed to be a blessing, but was becoming a curse.

Dr. Garrett laughed aloud, a gentle laugh. "No wonder the ladies in town won't be friends with you, they're all jealous!"

Face reddening more, Vanessa's mind raced to change the subject. "Who's our first this morning?" she called out to their receptionist, Dennis.

"All business again this morning, eh, Ness," Dr. Garrett mumbled, sighing as he pulled on his lab coat. The girl was quiet and cold, but she got the job done. He wondered what her story was, to make her like she was, but he would never ask and she would never tell.

OXO

"I knew I should have tied my cloak closer. You'd think, after traveling as much as we do, I'd get better at it! Ouch!"

"It won't heal unless I get the sand out," Dr. Ness mumbled in reply, tweezing out a grain from the sand burn on Moira's ankle. The middle aged woman was rather loud, and annoying her as she worked. "You should use wrappings next time."

"Huh?"

Rinsing the reddened area again, Vanessa spoke up a bit. "In principle, you need the loose cover of a hood, a cloak, boots, that sort of thing. But to keep the sand out completely you need to wear tight wrappings, tight clothing underneath, all over."

"Really, doctor, you're lucky you've got this nice, cool office. Traveling is so harsh," Moira sighed. "My husband needs to get out of this business!"

"Oh, give me a break," the man in question sighed, stepping into the office. "We're set up at the inn, I'm going to go wait in the front till you're done."

"Look at it, hon, it's worse than I'd thought."

"Actually, ma'am, it looks worse than it is. You'll have a new layer of dermis in no time." She turned away to mix up an herbal paste for the wound.

"See, there? You shouldn't have insisted on coming with me this time," Moira's husband huffed.

"Well how was I to know we wouldn't have a ride the full way?"

"That's the way things are outside the city," he replied, sounding somewhat impatient.

"Excuse me if this is the only vacation from the kids I ever get," Moira snapped.

Vanessa could hear them through her bundled hair, so clearly because her ears were so sensitive. But she didn't care to hear this, didn't care to be a part of anyone's life. She wanted them to leave. Swiveling to apply the paste to Moira's ankle, she ignored the lady's shudder and angry whispering. Damn this woman, she thought, damn her, that she has found a safe life and a safe man but complains about it all.

"I've goods to sell to pay you."

Hesitating, Vanessa glanced up to see that he was addressing her.

Reaching out to shake her reluctant hand, he smiled. "I'm good for it. Don't worry."

She looked him in the eyes to see that he wasn't lying, which he didn't seem to be. "Alright, then," she replied, turning away the moment he got 'that' look on his face. He'd gone pale and jaw slack all the sudden, there, and she hoped, again, that they'd just leave already.

OXO

Walking alone, alert, to her isolated little house at the edge of town, Vanessa clutched her volume to her chest and took in all that her peripheral vision allowed.

But she didn't notice the man standing in a shadow along the way. "Vanessa."

Her blood turned cold and she hastened her step. She saw him, but chose not to look. Turning pages, she squinted in the moonlit street.

"Vanessa, it's me – Marcus."

The name seemed familiar, but to her familiar was usually a bad thing.

"I was little when you met me – you fixed my broken arm. You lived in our barn."

"Leave me be, you've mistaken me for someone else."

"No," he insisted, striding alongside her now. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead, but the page hadn't taken full effect yet. "I know you. I remember."

She heard no ill will in his voice. Shutting her book, she continued to march quickly towards her home. "I don't care for anyone here to know me by that name, please," she whispered.

"You remember me, then. I've had dreams you were out there, I prayed you wouldn't die in a gutter – but look at you, a doctor!" Hands in his pockets, he sounded nervous, but happily excited. "I want to...to apologize for the way everyone treated you all that time. I wish I could have made them stop."

Mounting the steps to her door, she paused.

"You were beautiful and something special. I don't know why they couldn't see that. After you left I missed you something awful," he mumbled, shifting in the sand. "Well, I just wanted to tell you that, I guess."

Staring down at her hand on the door handle, she smiled. "You were nicer to me than anybody has ever been."

After a long, still silence, Marcus cleared his throat. "Secret's safe with me. Goodnight, then."

"Come in, please," she called as he turned away.

Smiling, he nodded, and stepped inside.