Elli politely stifled a yawn. "These extra-early mornings are tough," she said drowsily as she and Trent made their way into the Valley, past Vesta's farmland.

"Agreed," Trent said tiredly. "If you ever would prefer to stay at the clinic on one of your days off, just say the word."

Beyond the main bridge, they saw two blonde women deep in conversation. One wore a fuchsia sundress, and the other wore denim capris. "Good morning, Ella!" Elli called, waving.

The farmer looked up and waved back. She and the other woman crossed the bridge toward Elli and Trent. "I was hoping I'd run into you early today," Ella began cheerfully. "Here, I'd like you both to meet Muffy. She works at the Blue Bar and has adopted me as a friend. Muffy, this is Elli, Mineral Town's new nurse, and this is Trent, the new doctor."

"Charmed, I'm sure," Muffy gushed, winking playfully at them.

"Nice to meet you!" Elli chirped. Trent smiled and murmured the same.

"I'm not sure if you planned on dropping by the farm later to herb-hunt, but I wanted to let you know that the forecast is calling for heavy rain this afternoon, so you might want to get that out of the way early." Ella smiled. "You're both welcome anytime."

"Hm, that's right," Trent said thoughtfully. "We'll certainly be stopping by. I appreciate the head's up."

"Great, see you then!"

"Come by the bar sometime!" Muffy chimed in before turning to follow the farmer.

As Ella turned away, Elli leaned in toward Trent to whisper, "She seems much perkier than she did last week."

Trent nodded in surprised agreement. "I suppose it just takes a friend."

˙·٠•● Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ●•٠·˙

Steely grey clouds had crept across the sky by the time Elli and Trent made their way to Ella's farm. Elli and Ella lingered near the cabin for awhile, chatting, while Trent set to work on the patch of chokeweed, which had regrown abundantly since his first visit.

"So, what is it you are hoping to learn from this herb, if you don't mind me asking?" came Ella's voice. Trent looked up. She was standing a little behind him, her hands on her hips and her head tilted curiously to one side.

"Well, its self-regenerative properties are beyond anything I've ever seen before," he replied. "I'm interested in seeing if that can somehow be harnessed for medical purposes."

"And why have you been glaring at it so much this afternoon?"

Trent snorted in surprised amusement. "Have I?"

"Yes." Ella knelt down beside him and peered at the stem in his hand. "Like it insulted your grandmother."

"Maybe I have been," Trent mused. "As great as it is to have a ready supply of the stuff, I'm beginning to wonder if collecting it here is very effective at all. By the time I get it to Mineral Town, it's partially dried out and brittle. Additionally, I'd be interested in studying it at various stages of growth—but It grows so quickly that there aren't any juvenile specimens here." He sighed. "I'll admit to being a little frustrated that it won't grow in Mineral Town anymore."

Ella cringed. "You may have my mom and I to blame for that," she said sheepishly. "But, why don't you just take a cutting and propagate it in the Clinic's back yard?"

"I tried that last week with some of my samples," Trent sighed. "It shriveled up and died. Almost immediately, as a matter of fact."

"Hmmmm," Ella said. "Maybe we have to get the soil proportions just right. Maybe it's a pickier little weed than we thought." Her eyes glittering, she turned to the doctor in excitement. "I have an idea. We'll take a soil sample and build you a raised garden bed where you can cultivate it from a seed. It'll need to be, oh, sixty centimeters tall...You'll need a layer of topsoil, and I think there's some clay in the earth here—I'll dig some up. Here, if you follow me, I'll draw up a schematic."

"That would be amazingly helpful," Trent said eagerly, getting to his feet. "That is, if you're sure you have time?"

"Oh, it's nothing!" Ella called over her shoulder. She was beaming. "I love a good project."

Trent gave a short laugh, looking around at her farm. "I would never have guessed. This place is looking phenomenal, I've been meaning to say. When did you get the barn repaired? And the cow?"

"Two days ago," the farmer said proudly. They had reached her cabin, and the wind had begun to pick up, but she couldn't help shyly adding, "And I cleared this much of the field and planted this crop, too."

"That's incredible," the doctor said, smiling warmly at her.

"Oh, Elli," Ella called, "I think it's about to rain! You're welcome to hide out here, if you want. I'm just going to sketch up a garden box real quick for Trent."

The nurse looked uncertainly up at the sky. "I think I'd better head back to the Inn," she called back. "See you there for dinner, Trent?"

"See you," he nodded, before following Ella inside.

The doctor glanced around briefly at the very small but tidy living space as Ella pulled a sketchbook from a drawer and spread it out on the small dining table. They stood with their heads bent over the table, measuring and murmuring and erasing, and did not even register the rainfall outside growing heavier and heavier until the first boom of thunder startled them so badly that they nearly conked their heads together.

Ella peered out her window. "Well, so much for that soil sample," she lamented. "I bet you wish you'd gone back to the inn with Elli when you had the chance."

"Not at all," Trent said airily, admiring the detailed garden box they had drawn up. "This was more than worthwhile. I'm looking forward to seeing how this turns out. Really, Ella. I thank you."

"Well, stay for supper? I have a kettle and a hot plate, and I can make a mean grilled cheese." Her eyes suddenly lit up. "Wait a second! How does warm milk sound? It's from my very own cow, and I've been meaning to try it. This cabin doesn't have great insulation, and it's about to get chilly real soon."

"It has been years since I had warm milk," Trent said. "That sounds wonderful. It's one of my favourites. Err, can I help?"

"Oh, no no no. Grab a seat on my, uh, floor cushion of honour." Ella cringed as she gestured to the cushion. "It's the best seat in the house."

"Where are you going to sit?" the doctor asked doubtfully.

"On my bed," she replied cheerfully, filling a small pot with milk and turning on the hot plate. "Don't feel too bad about it because it may honestly be more comfortable than that stupid little cushion. Oh how I miss a real kitchen!"

"I don't doubt that," the doctor snorted. "Although, you pick up a hotplate trick or two after spending a good part of your life in college dorm rooms. I'll write down some recipes for you. There's a lot you can do with enough imagination. And desperation, of course."

Ella grinned. "I do have plenty of desperation."

"My kitchenette at the clinic really isn't significantly better," he continued. "I don't see where I'm expected to lodge a family, if I had one. I'm beginning to suspect that clinic is specifically designed to prevent its tenants from forming meaningful relationships so we remain slaves to our work."

"Well, really, if you think about it, it makes sense. Dr. Hardy never married, and he was available 24/7 when we needed him. If you went and got married, you'd not be at our beck and call, and we simply can't have that," Ella teased, then looked at him thoughtfully. "Do you want a family?"

Trent grinned sardonically and quirked an eyebrow. "I can't count the number of times someone has asked me that. Do I look like someone who wants to spend their life alone with textbooks? Is it the lab coat? Be honest."

"I didn't mean it like that, I promise," the farmer laughed. "I'm just trying not to assume anything about anyone. Take me, for example. Everyone assumes I want to find Prince Charming and have lots of babies. What's with that? Is it the apron and bonnet?" she asked, gesturing at the invisible garments. "Be honest!"

"That's a good question. It might be the bonnet," Trent said, cocking his head thoughtfully as he appraised her. She crossed her arms and waited with amusement. "Ah, that's it. You resemble a young woman. And all young women aspire to a big wedding and lots of babies, don't you know?"

"Oh, of course. And all male scholars and scientists eschew romance in pursuit of their one great love: knowledge."

Trent settled down on the floor cushion of honour and readjusted himself until he achieved relative comfort, insofar as the lumpy pillow would allow. Ella poured warmed milk into a mug and handed it to him. "Thank you. At last, we understand each other!"

"Cheers to that." Ella raised her mug. "You know, I'm not opposed to the knight in shining armour, or whatever. As long as he's interesting. But contrary to popular belief, I don't want kids." She took a long drink of warm milk and braced herself for the question that would follow.

But it didn't come. "Cheers to knowing what's right for you," the doctor said simply. "I don't think I want kids either. My mother was a spectacular talent, a gift to the medical profession. She was also a doctor. My father, a nurse, faithfully supported her at every turn. They made massive scientific contributions and were phenomenal researchers. They lived in a big old house on the top of a hill and devoted all their time to their work. It would have been admirable had it not left me on the fringes for my entire childhood until they could send me away to boarding school. In short, I have no idea how to be a father, and my children would probably follow in my footsteps as I followed in my parents' simply because they wouldn't know what else to do with themselves. It almost becomes a question of free will at that point." He paused, then looked apologetically at Ella, who sat learning forward on her bed. "I apologize. That was more than I intended to say."

The farmer took a thoughtful sip. "At least you're reflective enough to understand how your childhood affected you and how it might continue to affect your own children. That's more than a lot of people can say," she mused. "Awareness is important, but it isn't always enough to help us break free of generational curses. Your childhood sounds like it was really rough in a lot of ways."

"What about your childhood?" Trent asked. "You seem really close with your mother."

"Yeah, I am." Ella smiled. "She raised me practically all by herself, after my dad died. Do you know, I found out recently—" Ella stopped short, suddenly unsure if she was ready to share her new discovery with anyone. But Trent, leaning toward her earnestly with his legs crossed, felt like the right person to share it with. "I found out a couple days ago that my dad worked on this farm for years before I was born. He passed away when I was really little."

Trent gave a low whistle. "Hold on a moment... Wouldn't your mother have known that this had to be your father's former property when you told her you were moving to the Valley?"

Ella shrugged. "I think she suspected and just wasn't sure how to tell me. This move was hard on both of us, and I'm not sure if knowing this was Dad's farm would have made things harder or easier. It is what it is. At least now, I feel more like I belong here. I think it helps to know, now." She wrapped her arms around herself. "Around the time Dad got really sick, my mom and I moved to the farm in Mineral Town. I had a perfect, golden childhood there. I feel like everyone in town truly is my family. And my mom even found love again, with my best friend's dad. You know Ann and her dad, Doug? They run the inn in town. But my family is also cursed to go in circles, following our own footsteps. My kids wouldn't escape that, either."

"Farming?" Trent asked. He searched her face closely, feeling a piece was missing from what Ella was trying to say. "You're saying you wish you could do something else?" He sat upright. "Ella, it's never too late to—"

The farmer was shaking her head and smiling. "I love farming. If I weren't a farmer, I might be an artist. Or pursue education and open a rural school out here. It's really not the farming part that's the curse." She laughed ruefully. "It's a little complicated."

"Hear me out. Since you said that, I wrote an entire speech, and I don't want it to be wasted." He cleared his throat somewhat theatrically. "Ella, the world is rich and vast. There's something for everybody. If you're not sure this is what you want, then go out there and seek your fortune until you find it. Everything will still be here when and if you want to come back for it."

"Is doctor-ing what you want to do?" Ella asked with genuine curiosity. "You sound like you've put a lot of thought into it."

"I have, and it is," Trent nodded. "I did my share of fortune-seeking before medical school, and I'm sure of my calling. I just fear it consuming my whole life, as it did my parents'. I've seen some of the world, and I now understand there's so much more out there besides a career, even if you feel called to said career. I fear losing myself to it. I'm no font of life wisdom, but I would hate to see you waste yourself on something that doesn't light you up. If that's how you feel."

"Something that lights you up," Ella repeated, testing the taste of the words on her tongue. "I like it."

"Something to think about," Trent murmured, finding it difficult to peel his eyes from hers. When he finally succeeded, he directed them down into his empty mug.

"I will." Ella slid off her bed and collected his mug from him. "Um, on that note. Did you talk to my mom at all? I mean, about me?"

"Yes. And I never went off-script. She seemed glad to hear of it," Trent said, expecting the good news to bring immediate relief to the farmer. Instead, Ella's brow remained creased.

"How did she look?" the farmer asked.

"Fine. Worried, of course, but fine."

"Healthy?" Ella was wringing her hands.

"Ye-e-es," Trent replied slowly, raising an eyebrow. "Ella, you know if there's something I need to know about your mother's wellbeing, as her physician, that has to be between her and I."

"Uh, yes, sorry, it's nothing—nothing like that," Ella stammered. "Um—sorry. I'm just worried about her."

"You have that in common," the doctor said. Hesitantly, he moved toward her where she stood at the sink and rested a hand reassuringly on her shoulder. Ella felt her cheeks warm slightly at the touch. "Seems as though you could both benefit from calling each other a bit more frequently."

"You're right." She nodded absently and began scrubbing fiercely at the mugs.

The light in the cabin shifted as the sky beyond began to clear. The rain that had previously lashed at the window had relaxed to a gentle patter, and a watery sunbeam unexpectedly lit up the cabin floor.

"Hm. I should be on my way back to the Inn for dinner," Trent said, a touch regretfully.

"You're welcome here the next time the sky dumps its fury on you," Ella said, shyly at first. "Elli and Hardy too, of course. And maybe you could stay for dinner once I perfect those hot plate recipes you promised me! Elli and Hardy too, of course."

"Of course. I'll tell them," he promised. "And I'll get those recipes for you, too."

"Oh, don't forget the drawing for the garden box!" As Ella handed it to him, their eyes lingered briefly on each other. His eyes seemed warmer than before.

"Of course. Thanks for the blueprint. And the milk. And the company. You've given me a lot to think about." Trent flashed her one final little smile and ducked out the door, shielding the drawing from the light rain under his jacket. "Goodbye, Ella. Until next Wednesday."