Ella knelt in the soil, mercilessly pulling out all manner of weeds that had so brazenly sprung up around her cucumber vines. If she wanted more fruit to grow, she had to tend to the environment carefully.
She glanced back with pride at the crates packed with produce stacked beside her shipping container, ready for pickup – and payment. Her first-ever harvest had been a resounding success. Overgrown and untended as they may have been, her father's fields remained healthy and rich: a mark of great care by an expert farmer.
Movement caught her eye as it lingered on the crates: three figures slowly making their way up the path to her farm. She snatched her gaze away and focused it on the weed in her hand, suddenly acutely and inexplicably embarrassed at the prospect of certain members of that party seeing that she had been looking at them before they had seen her.
"Helloooo! Ella!" called Elli's bright voice, rescuing the farmer from her own thoughts. "We're here!"
Ella sat up and turned to wave, as if seeing them for the first time. "Hello!" she called back, resting a hand on her sunhat and smiling.
Elli was outfitted in a light, long-sleeved linen dress, perfect for working in the heat and protecting from the sun. Hardy was, as always, in his crisp lab coat. And Trent was – looking at her.
When their eyes met, he briefly flicked his gaze away and then back again, as if guilty, before smiling in greeting.
"Trent has something to show you!" Elli called. The doctor looked momentarily bashful before rooting around in his satchel and pulling out a small photo wallet. Meanwhile, Hardy beelined directly for the shade of a tree.
Ella rinsed her hands with the water pump and made her way over. "I wanted to show you how the garden bed you designed is faring," he was saying as he flipped through the photos.
"Great!" The farmer glanced down. "Wow. Gorgeous shots of Mineral Town!"
"Oh, thank you, do you think so?" he returned, sounding slightly self-conscious. Beside them, Elli beamed with pride.
"Trent has a great photographer's eye," she added. "You should see his photos of Flower Bud Village!"
"Flower Bud Village?" Ella asked, turning back to Trent.
He shrugged. "My hometown. Several days' journey from here. Quite beautiful. But I wouldn't dream of pushing the photos on you."
Both the nurse and the farmer made a scoffing noise at the same time.
"His photos are art," Elli insisted.
"They're mesmerizing. Do you mind if I look at some of your Mineral Town photos?" Ella asked, her eyes trained greedily on a shot of the wood near Gotz's cabin.
"Oh, well, of course," Trent said. "Here." He pulled out a handful of the glossy images, taking in her interest with surprise. "I thought perhaps you were just being polite. Capturing scenes with a camera is a lot easier than drawing or painting them, after all."
Ella looked up. "Well, they're two different things, but I think it takes an equal amount of work to build up skill in either," she said.
"Both are art," Elli agreed. "Do you paint, Ella?"
"Actually - yes," the farmer answered, shooting Trent a sidelong look. "But I mostly sketch. I don't always get to the painting stage." Suddenly, she grinned. "Oh, duh. You saw my sketchbook when we drew up the blueprints for the garden box. I was wondering why you even compared photography to art!"
"There, see? You admit photography is inferior. You call your discipline 'art' and mine is just lowly photography," the doctor teased with a grin.
Laughing, Ella gently shouldered him in the arm. "You know what I meant!"
"Ella, I would love to see your art, too!" Elli said eagerly, gripping the farmer's arm.
Now Ella was sheepish. "Well," she began slowly, "Trent hasn't exactly seen it, either. He's seen that I own a sketchbook, that's all."
"I understand," the nurse smiled. "Please don't let me pressure you into showing us anything you're not comfortable with. Art is a refuge, and we would hate to intrude."
"What about your hobbies, Elli?" the farmer asked as she began thumbing through Trent's photographs. Scene after familiar scene captivated her attention: the Mineral Beach at sunset, with the red-orange sky reflecting delicately off the rolling waves; the bustle of Rose Square after a Spring festival – probably the horse races, judging by the massive striped tent; a quiet river landscape complete with a mother duck and her ducklings slipping into the placid water. Her throat suddenly felt rather full.
"Oh, I love to sew," the brunette was saying rapturously. "I love to make exactly what I want and how I want. I made this dress with a day like today in mind."
Ella swallowed a couple of times before saying, "My mom taught me to sew a little, but I never really progressed beyond pillow cases. She always said that if you can make your own clothes, you're almost too powerful for your own good. I think she's right."
"I'd love to teach you," Elli said generously. "Maybe next time you're in town."
Ella smiled fondly at the nurse. "Deal." She blinked a couple of times before handing the photographs back to the doctor. "They're beautiful! They really took me home. Do you happen to have one of Mother's Hill?"
"Mother's Hill," Trent repeated slowly, thinking. "I'm not familiar with the name."
"Oh, I know it! It's the peak of the mountain just north of the lake, I think," Elli supplied. Ella nodded.
"That's it. It's my favourite place in all the town. Besides Mom's farm, I mean. And I'm already guessing you don't have a picture of that," she laughed.
Grinning, Trent shook his head. "Regretfully, I haven't trespassed to photograph anyone's property without permission. But I'll take a few photos of Mother's Hill for you, if you'd like."
"That would be nice," Ella said, her throat feeling full again.
"Here it is. The photo that started it all." Trent pressed another photo into Ella's hand. "Gotz magicked the box together for me in a couple of hours. The man is a genius."
In the photo, Trent – wearing a blue polo and his usual black slacks – was kneeling beside the wooden box he and Ella had designed that rainy afternoon only a week ago, offering the photographer a thumbs-up. A tiny red sprout was barely visible, poking its head out of the rich black earth.
"We have life," the doctor declared proudly.
"That photo isn't as nice because I took it," Elli said apologetically.
Ella laughed. "Oh, Elli! But this is awesome to see, Trent. It looks like our little scheme might just work. If it doesn't, you'll have to try a higher proportion of soil from either Mom's farm or mine. Don't worry, I'm sure she would be happy to give it to you. In exchange for a couple days' labour," she added wickedly.
"Maybe we'll just take it from here when you're not looking," Elli teased with a conspiratorial wink.
"Elli has a point," Trent mused. "We leave great empty pits behind every week anyway. I think you'd be none the wiser if we pilfered some soil..."
"I'd be a pretty sad farmer, not to tell the difference between weeded earth and soil thievery," Ella laughed.
"Maybe we will put you to the test," Elli giggled.
After the doctor and nurse returned to their usual foraging duties, the afternoon passed in its usual companionable, productive quiet. Ella weeded for several more hours and kept a pitcher of cool water filled from the garden pump for Elli, Trent, and Hardy. Sometime after 2 pm, the four shared a simple picnic lunch of jelly made by Elli's granny on bread. All ate eagerly and spoke little, fatigued in the late spring sun.
Once lunch was packed away, Ella heaved up a tightly packed crate of onions and cucumbers into her arms. "I'll be right back," she called, and with effort, she began hauling it away.
Trent watched her doubtfully. While she was certainly stronger than she looked, it seemed that she could use a little help with the crate – especially if she were taking it far away. But would she welcome the offer of help? When he glanced back at Dr. Hardy almost for permission, his craggy mentor was throwing him a significant look and Elli's arms were crossed.
"Er – Ella, let me help you with that," he began, stepping after her.
"No!" she said sharply, turning the crate away from him before glancing back to amend herself with a gentler, "Thank you, but I'm good."
He stood, bewildered, tendrils of dark hair sticking damply to his forehead.
"I'm sorry – I mean – I appreciate it, but I'm good," she continued apologetically. "I'd just rather go on my own."
Trent nodded slowly, not understanding even slightly. "If you're sure."
"I'm sure. Be right back," the farmer returned with her usual sunshine.
As Ella and her crate trudged away, Trent turned back to find both Elli and Hardy glaring at him disapprovingly.
"You should have insisted," Elli whispered, as if Ella could still hear. Hardy's glowering silence seemed to agree.
"I won't insist on helping if she doesn't want help," Trent retorted defensively. "I don't think there's anything more disrespectful I could possibly do."
Hardy rolled his eyes and settled down in the shade to rest. Elli sighed in exasperation.
Feeling a bit grouchy himself, the young doctor resumed his chokeweed-pulling stance and began pulling the roots out with nothing short of a vengeance.
Only five or so minutes had passed in this fashion before a mortality-defying scream came resounding across the fields. A momentary shocked silence descended over the Valley, and even the medical team froze for a beat before regaining their senses and taking to their feet. The shriek seemed to have originated to the north of the farm.
Hardy hobbled after Elli and Trent, who dashed to the eastern exit from the farm. A path there led north, to some sort of pond that the nurse and doctor had only glimpsed on their first tour of the Valley – but at that moment, the sound of multiple urgent voices were disturbing the serene pondscape.
As the three arrived on the scene – with Vesta, Marlin, Celia, and Ruby hot on their heels – they found Rock and Lumina huddling around Ella, who stood leaning forward with her hands on her knees, as though she were about to hurl. Her empty crate lay toppled on the grass beside her.
Lumina looked up. "Dr. Hardy, please hurry!" she called.
Ella's face was white as milk when she looked up. Her eyes found Trent's first, and he was alarmed by her pallor and the gleam of tears in her eyes. "Ella!" he began in alarm.
Hardy cut in, putting one hand to her forehead and another on her wrist to check her pulse.
"Ella, was that you?" Elli asked in concern, taking the farmer's other hand gently. "Are you all right? My goodness, you're shaking like a leaf!"
"Take deep, slow breaths," Hardy urged firmly. "Your pulse is racing."
"I'm okay," Ella gasped out. "I just had a little scare."
"A little scare?" Elli repeated in astonishment. "I think the whole Valley heard you! What happened?"
"You need to sit down," Trent interjected. "She needs to sit down." He cast around for some shade. "There - under the tree."
Hardy nodded in agreement. Gingerly, he took Ella by the elbow and guided her towards a large tree that towered over part of the pond and the grassy lawn around it. Trent took the opportunity to make up for not insisting on helping before and offered her his arm, which she took. I should have insisted, he thought reproachfully.
Seated under the tree, Ella choked out a forced laugh. "I'm sorry. This is so ridiculous. I don't know where that scream came from." She leaned around Hardy to offer Vesta, Marlin, and Celia a weak little wave. "I'm okay! Sorry for scaring you!"
Trent expected the colour to start coming back into her face from the embarrassment of the whole affair, but she remained startlingly pale: whatever had scared her had done a thorough job of it. He knelt down and hesitantly put an arm around her shoulders. "You're still shaking!" he murmured in astonishment. "Slow breaths. Breathe with me. In..." he took a deep inhale and held it for two seconds. "And out." He slowly exhaled.
The farmer closed her eyes and followed his lead. Inhale, exhale.
Elli sat on Ella's other side and gently took her hand. "Oh, Ella, dear, what happened?"
Ella exhaled deeply. "It's so dumb. I'm so sorry. I just thought I saw a snake."
"A snake?" Trent repeated in disbelief before he could stop himself.
"You're a farmer and you're afraid of a snake?" Elli echoed, mystified.
Finally, warmth began creeping back into Ella's cheeks. "I know, it's stupid."
"It isn't. I am terrified of bugs," the nurse admitted confidentially. She patted Ella's hand comfortingly, which gripped her own like a vice. "I'm just glad I don't need to work with them! I saw a spider today in the chokeweed, and I swear I nearly fainted!"
Under his arm, Trent could still feel her shoulders trembling. He had never heard a scream like that before. A snake, really? Surely she had encountered them many times before on the farm. In fact, he was certain he had glimpsed the tail of a garter snake slithering into the grass near the chokeweed earlier that very morning. That didn't mean, necessarily, that they would cease to be scary, but what kind of snake would warrant a cry like that if you had grown up around them all your life?
Yet...if it wasn't about a snake, then the farmer was lying, and that didn't make any sense, either.
Ella inhaled sharply. "I think I just need to sit here for a bit."
"Would you like me to stay with you?" the nurse asked gently, never giving away that Ella was crushing her hand.
For a moment, it seemed like Ella was about to insist that everyone leave—but then she gave a quick, embarrassed nod. "Thanks, Elli."
The nurse shot Hardy and Trent a significant look. "Alright, alright, show's over," Hardy rasped, shooing the concerned onlookers away. "Give the gals some space."
Reluctantly, Trent lifted his arm from Ella's shoulders and stood. With his arm gone, she visibly began to shake until Elli wrapped her other arm around the blonde.
"They're fine. Let's go," came Hardy's rasp near his ear. Trent started almost guiltily in surprise.
"Hardy and I will be at the Inn if you need us," Trent said. He knelt down briefly to rest a hand on Ella's forearm. "Deep breaths. You'll feel better soon. You couldn't be in better literal hands than Elli's." The farmer felt her cheeks flush scarlet and flashed him the quickest smile she could muster in reply.
As the men made their way down the southern path, Ella rested her cheek on Elli's shoulder and let the nurse rub her arm reassuringly. She inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to match the timing Trent had demonstrated, and felt her pulse start to normalize.
"Thank you," she said to Elli after several minutes of silence.
"Of course," the nurse returned sweetly. "I know just how you feel. My little brother, Stu, has a favourite joke. He puts toads and spiders and beetles in my bed every so often. My bed! Can you imagine? The first time he did it, I screamed so loudly that my throat hurt the next day." She shook her head in disbelief at the memory. "He's such a little skunk. I've never reacted that strongly since, and he gets a timeout every time he does it now, but wouldn't you know, it doesn't stop him."
"What a little butt!" Ella exclaimed. "Then you must have to wash your sheets!"
"That might be the worst part of it," the nurse agreed. "Granny's scolding never bothers him, and the timeout isn't working. We have to think of something else."
"Do you live with your Granny?" Ella asked, remembering the homemade jelly.
Elli nodded. "My Granny and Stu are all I have," she confessed. "They've moved with me everywhere for all my schooling. I hope Mineral Town is where we can stay so Stu can finally have a normal childhood and make some friends. It's probably why he acts out."
Ella hummed empathetically and squeezed Elli's hand gently. "I'm sure he's going to love Mineral Town, and I'm sure Mineral Town doesn't want you going anywhere."
"Oh, I don't think so," Elli agreed cheerfully. "Rural clinical assignments aren't the most popular. But Trent and I both thought a small town felt right."
A strange thought popped, unbidden, into Ella's head: Were Elli and Trent more than professional partners? Did they choose Mineral Town as a good place to live and be a family together?
The farmer felt another blush coming on as she struggled to remember what the comment was Trent had made about the small kitchenette in his suite at the clinic. Too small for kids? Or too small for a wife? Or...both? He didn't want kids, but she didn't think he had said anything about being married – or about not being married?
It shouldn't matter if he were married or not, or if he and Elli were partners or not. It just made Ella feel guilty about looking forward to seeing him, particularly him, this week and hoping they might be able to have another conversation like last week's. She wanted to see more of his photos, and she wanted to show him some of her paintings. Maybe he wouldn't even find it too weird if she asked him to get a shot of her mother's farm for her. But knowing he might actually be committed to Elli just made wanting those things feel a little wrong.
Which meant, Ella realized grimly, that she clearly had the beginnings of some sort of buried feelings for him that verged beyond friendship. Even just now, as he had brushed her arm before leaving, she had to confess to a quiet thrill in her stomach at his touch and an unacknowledged hope that he might have some extra-professional interest in her wellbeing.
But – maybe Elli did just mean they were professional partners. The best way to find out was to simply ask, but Ella struggled to find the words to put the question indirectly to the nurse without giving herself away.
The farmer was quiet for so long that Elli began to frown. "Ella, honey?"
Just ask!
"Sorry," Ella replied quickly. "I was just lost in thought. Umm. That just made me wonder, and I'm sorry if this seems personal, but do you and Dr. Trent work together just professionally, or are you in a family medical business together?"
"Oh, my," Elli laughed. "No, goodness, no. I can see why you might think so, but no." She smirked coyly. "I'm promised to a wonderful gentleman I met while visiting Flower Bud Village. His name is Joe. I usually go to visit him during the summers, and now that I have a permanent assignment, he is making arrangements to move to Mineral Town!" Her face broke into a wide smile.
"Oh!" Ella laughed, disguising her relief as embarrassment at asking such a question. "Congratulations! I hope I can meet him someday soon!"
"I would love that," the nurse said earnestly.
"Well," Ella said, releasing the nurse's hand, "thank you so much for staying with me. It helped a lot, and I'm feeling much better. I think I'm ready to head back home."
Elli helped the farmer up. "Would you like to join us at the Inn for dinner?" she asked. "I'm sure the boys haven't eaten yet, and Ruby's cooking is worth the walk from Mineral Town!"
Ella smiled weakly. "Thanks so much for the offer. Maybe I'll take you up on it another time. For now, I think I just need a quiet night at home."
The two women walked together toward the Inn and parted at the pathway onto Ella's property. The moment the farmer was alone, she began quivering. The memory of the Goddess's cold green gaze still burned within her mind's eye.
The Goddess was weak. That was the whole reason Ella had been forced to move, under threat, to Forget-Me-Not Valley – to revive her father's old farm. The farm's health and the bounty it produced would breathe life back into the local Worship Pond, giving the Goddess another access point in the world and the ability to attract more followers once again.
But Ella hadn't seen the Goddess herself since she was a child; she communicated strictly through Ella and her mother's dreams. For years, she hadn't been powerful enough to manifest a physical appearance in one of her ponds. Until, apparently, today when Ella had dutifully made an offering of the season's first harvest.
The sight of the larger-than-life figure looming over her, in her world, speaking words Ella could hear and smiling her curling smile, had shot an arrow through the farmer's very soul and shattered every fibre of self-assurance and confidence she thought she had built up. All too suddenly, the Goddess's power over and presence in her life, the futility of her mission, and the inescapability of it all crushed her.
The scream that tore from her body had clearly not been the reaction the Goddess was expecting. The figure began to fade almost as quickly as she had appeared, but as she dematerialized, Ella saw that her satisfied smile had been replaced by an expression of twisted rage. That last glimpse tormented her now as she went about her evening chores with a zombie-like vacancy, nearly forgetting to put her newest cow back in the barn and neglecting to give Oakley his usual evening peppermint.
She was still transfixed by the frigid green-eyed gaze when she wandered absently to her front door and kicked over a large white paper bag she hadn't seen sitting in front of it.
The aroma hit her next: the scent of savoury broth wafted toward her, and her stomach grumbled appreciatively in response. Dinner? Of course – it must be late afternoon. Or evening? She wasn't sure how much time had passed. She quickly righted the bag, hoping nothing inside had spilled, and noticed that a note scrawled on a torn piece of lined paper had been slipped within: In case the hot plate doesn't cut it tonight. Hope you're feeling better.
Not so far away, Trent was in his room at the Inn, writing in his journal. But if he had been able to see the blush that bloomed across her cheeks or how she rested the photograph of him and the garden planter upright on her dresser, his inner musings would have been quite different that evening.