Marissa slept the rest of the night and a good part of the next day. Irene gave Patsy the 411 on what had happened and what care instructions she had been given. Patsy checked on her little sister before she went to work and emptied her catheter bag.

About mid afternoon, Irene heard a 'thud' from upstairs and went to check it out. Marissa was trying to pick herself up from the floor. “Honey, what happened?” she asked as she helped her daughter back to bed.

“I fell out of bed, Mama.”

“Why? You never do that!”

“Just a bad dream. I have them now and then.” Marissa didn't want to cause her mother any more stress, so she downplayed the nightmare.

“Let's get you back into bed. Do you feel like eating something?”

“No, Mama. I'm going to get dressed and visit Charlie.”

“If you can't eat, you can't go outside. Stay right here in bed.”

“I'll have some crackers.”

“You will have something more substantial than that. Like a sandwich.”

“Half.”

“I don't negotiate with my children - you know that, honey. I will make an exception this time, only because you are sick and I think that keeping you from Charlie would do you more harm than good. Get dressed and I will go make it for you. Did your tubing come loose in the fall? Let me see.” She took a look at Marissa's nephrostomy and everything looked in place to her, but she would get Patsy to check it when she got home, just to be sure.

Marissa kept up her end of the deal and had half a sandwich before going outside to see Charlie, but she threw it up behind the barn. She really wished her mother would listen to her when she said she wasn't hungry or didn't want to eat. Irene meant well, but her body was so used to living on a few crackers a day, it did not want more than that.

She pulled some grass up and covered her lunch so nobody would see it if they came around the barn and went to see Charlie. She opened the gate and he lay on the grass with her sitting beside him and scratching behind his ear while she talked. “I have to go away next week, Charlie”, she said, “and I'll be gone for a couple months. I have to have an operation and Dr Maynard is going to do it - you remember him, right? If I don't have the operation, I will die, so I have to have it. It's going to be a hard recovery, and I'm going to miss you a lot, but I am going to see if Daddy will bring a laptop out here so I can talk to you via Skype or Snapchat or something. It won't be the same, but you will see me and hear me and you'll know I haven't forgotten you.” She didn't think he understood, but it made her feel better to tell him.

While she was visiting Charlie, Gideon Maynard called. He had hoped to reschedule her surgery for early the next week, but was unable to get an OR spot until Friday. “You can do the pre-op stuff Thursday”, he told her “so you don't have to come down until Wednesday. How are you doing with your nephrostomy?”

“Okay, I guess. I'm getting tired of this kidney giving me so much trouble.”

“It will be out soon, dear. I can't wait to get it out of you. How is Charlie doing?” the oncologist asked. He had developed a soft spot for Marissa's steer.

“He's doing great”, she replied. “His wounds are healing up. Daddy will take the stitches out a week to 10 days from now.” She turned to her pet. “Charlie, say hello to Dr Maynard.” Marissa put her phone on speaker and Charlie mooed. Gideon laughed.

“Can you send me some pictures of him, Marissa?”

“Sure. I'll take some new ones as soon as we're finished talking.”

The next night, Marissa had another nightmare and fell out of bed. This time, she dislodged her nephrostomy tube and Patsy took her to the ER to get it put back in place, giving Irene and Gael a break. Patsy was off for the next few days and had the time to attend to her sister's medical needs. The interventional radiologist on call, Dr Porter, asked Marissa if she had nightmares often. Marissa told him that they come and go. The doctor suggested that she get a hospital bed and sleep with the bars up to prevent her from falling out again before her surgery.

They got home just as the younger kids were getting off to school. Marissa and Patsy had their breakfast while they filled their parents in on the trip to the ER. “We'll get you a hospital bed, Rissa”, Gael said when they'd finished. “Patsy, can you find out where to get one?”

“Sure, Daddy. I'd like a nap first, though. I'm sure Marissa needs one, too. There's one other thing. The doctor thought it would be a good idea for Marissa to talk to someone.”

“Not needed”, Marissa said, irritation in her voice.

“What do you mean by 'talk to someone'?” Irene asked.

“Mama, I said it's not needed. Please drop it.” She abruptly got up from the table and went upstairs. Shortly after she'd undressed and got into bed, her mother knocked on her door.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course, Mama. I'm sorry I snapped at you. I don't know why I'm so cranky.”

Irene gave her a hug and sat down on the bed. “You're sick, honey. That makes people irritable. You've been through so much, Marissa, and through no fault of your own. I really think it would be a good idea to talk to someone.”

“I only want to talk to Braxton”, Marissa pouted.

“You can't, honey. Even if we knew where he is, he can't take you on as a patient because of your friendship.”

“I know, but I could talk to him as a friend. I wanted so bad to tell him about the Cartel, and it would have explained a lot, but I just couldn't take the chance they would find out and harm him. Now that I'm out, I can't find him.” She began to cry. Irene wrapped her arms around her daughter and let her cry for a bit.

“Marissa, what do you think Braxton would say if he was here? About talking to someone.”

“He would want me to. He pushed me to do it in Denver.”

“There you go.”

“I don't know if I can trust anyone else, Mama. I'm pretty sure that Dr Lambert in Seattle sold me out to the Cartel.”

“If she did, that is a violation of her oath and she could be reprimanded if it could be proven. Most therapists are not like that.”

“My brain tells me that, but my heart won't listen.”

“Will you think about it, honey?”

“Yes, Mama.”

A bed was delivered to them the next day. It was on sale, so the Brennans decided to buy rather than rent. That way, it would be there when Marissa came back from Denver, should she need it, and they would have it for future use. Marissa insisted on paying half, she still had a lot of the money she'd saved for veterinary school, though a good part of it was tied up in locked-in investments. She still had some of the cash she'd brought with her as well and she hoped the FBI would let her keep the money she'd saved from her trips, but she wasn't counting on it.

A couple nights later, Marissa was with Charlie when the supper bell rang. She wasn't hungry, but she heeded it as she didn't want a confrontation with her parents. In the house, she cleaned up, then went to the kitchen were she reached for a box of crackers. Irene saw her. “Marissa, please have a proper supper. I made your favourite, roast beef.” Not wanting to argue, she took her seat at the table. Brent Evans had joined them for dinner, and had brought a friend. The blonde haired bespectacled man looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place him. Brent must have read her mind. “This is Chris Holden, you older Brennans might remember him - he babysat you when you were little.”

Stan, Patsy and Vicky remembered Chris and said hello. “What about you, Goober? Do you remember me?” Chris asked Marissa. The others laughed.

“I see you remember Bill's pet name for Marissa”, Stan said. “When he's not around, I try to use it as much as possible, just so she doesn't forget it.”

“Marissa, you used to ride around on my shoulders” Chris said. “Even when you were 8 or 9, you were light enough to carry around.”

“I remember”, Marissa answered with a smile. “I loved riding around like that, but I've graduated to riding horses now. And my steer.”

“I've heard about your steer. I'd like to meet him.”

“Didn't you become a doctor?” Vicky asked.

“I did.”

“What specialty?”

Gael butted in. “All right everyone. Let's say the blessing so we can eat.”

After the prayer was said, everyone dug in. Except Marissa. She took a little bit, obeying the rule to have something, but she didn't know if she could eat it all. “Is that all you are having?” Brent asked her. “You need more than that.”

“She'll be lucky to finish that”, Gael told him. “And if she does, it will be a miracle if she keeps it down.”

“I remember you didn't eat a lot way back”, Chris said to her. “But you ate more than that.”

“I used to eat more”, Marissa replied. “And I gained too much weight. Then ... well, things .... happened. It was easier to just have some crackers rather than cook a meal.”

“Honey, you don't have to cook now. You really should eat more”, Irene said.

“I can't, Mama. It makes me sick.” She was quick to add “It's not your cooking, I just can't eat much.”

“That is quite possible, Irene”, Brent spoke up. “Her stomach is so used to not having much in it, it may be rebelling on her when she does eat.” He looked at Marissa. “Marissa, you need to be in the best shape possible for your surgery. Nutrition plays a key role in keeping us healthy. Would you consider allowing us to put a feeding tube in?”

Marissa was feeling put on the spot. She didn't like it one bit. “No, Brent. Absolutely not.”

“Please think about it.”

“No. You know, I have half a mind to just cancel the fucking surgery.”

“Marissa Noelle Brennan!” Irene exclaimed in anger. “You may be 31 years old, but I can still wash your mouth out with soap!”

“I'm sorry, Mama. I don't want to discuss what he suggested any more.” She glared at Brent.

“Let's all calm down and change the subject”, Gael suggested. He hated confrontation and had always been the peace keeper of the family. “Kids”, he addressed the foster children “I think Becky is going to have her calf tonight. Would you like to go out and help me watch her after supper?”

He was met with a chorus of “Yes!” Most of the Brennan offspring were so used to cows - and horses - giving birth, they no longer got excited about it. But the foster kids had spent the first years of their lives in town.

“All your homework has to be done first.”

“Don't keep them out too late”, Irene cautioned her husband. “It's a school night.”

“I won't, but they can stay up a bit later if they promise to get up without complaining in the morning.”

Marissa was relieved that she was no longer the subject and was slowly picking at her food. “I'll come watch with you”, she told the fosters. “I still love to watch a calf being born.”

“I need some help with making butter, honey. Could you stay in a bit to start the churns?” Irene asked. “Your father can call you if it looks like the cow is getting close.”

“Sure, Mama.”

“Chris”, Vicky said, “we got sidetracked. What specialty did you go into?” Irene gave her a look that said 'let it be', but it was too late.

Chris looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “Psychiatry”, he answered. Marissa froze.

“Is he here for Marissa?” Terry asked. He'd inadvertently heard Irene talking to his sister about the subject the other night.

“No”, Marissa answered as she got up from the table. Like she had done that day at Braxton's, she momentarily forgot she couldn't walk without crutches and took a step in the direction of the stairs. And as she had done that day over a year ago, her legs gave out and she fell to the floor, landing on her knee. She cried out in pain and tried to pick herself up. Gael was out of his seat in a flash and Irene rushed to her side as well. They got her up and back on her chair.

“Are you okay, Rissa?” Gael asked. He had been pissed off at her attitude, but he set that aside out of concern for her well being.

“My knee hurts.” She was bent over from the pain.

“Let me take a look at that”, Brent offered as he got up and went to her. He knelt on the floor and pushed her pant leg up to her thigh. Her knee was starting to swell. He palpated it and had her bend her leg. “I don't think there are any breaks, but it might be cracked. Can you go to town to get an x ray tomorrow? It doesn't have to be tonight.”

“We can get her there”, Irene replied.

“If it was my other knee, I could drive myself”, Marissa said. “But that's my driving leg.”

“I can come get you and take you to have it done”, Chris offered. “I'm not doing anything tomorrow.” He had recently returned to Edson and was looking for a place to set up practice. “I promise I won't shrink you if you don't want me to.”

“That would be a big help”, Gael responded. “We're busy getting ready for winter and I know Irene is doing something with the apples from our orchard.” His father had made one field into an orchard and they had apple, peach, cherry and plum trees. Irene preserved as much as she could to get them through the winter.

“I'm making apple sauce tomorrow, but if Marissa would rather go with me, I'll take her”, the matriarch of the family said.

Marissa was feeling guilty. It was her impulsiveness and forgetfulness that had put her in this situation. “It's okay, Mama. I'll go with Chris.”

“Then it's settled. Finish up your dinner, there's apple pie for dessert.” Marissa could never resist apple pie, especially with ice cream on top. Irene got an ice pack for Marissa to hold on her knee while she ate.

After the meal was over, she set up the butter churns for her mother. When she had done that, she said “Mama, I'm going to go see Charlie if there is nothing else you need done.”

“Be careful of your knee, honey. Maybe you shouldn't be walking on it.”

“I'll take the ATV, Mama.” She got up with her crutches and made her way to the back porch, where she put on her coat. A chair had been placed out there for her to sit on as she couldn't do it standing up. Chris had gone with Brent to watch the cow in labour. Marissa stopped at the barn and walked to the birthing stall to ask him if he wanted to see Charlie. Becky, the cow, was still a ways off from birthing, so he joined her in the ATV.

First, Marissa went to the horse barn and got an apple and cut it into pieces for Charlie. She had brought a baggie to put the pieces in - she could put that in her pocket. “I'll warn you - Charlie is a very big boy, but he's also a big suck. He won't hurt you. I take it Brent told you about him?”

“He did. He said you have quite the bond with the steer.”

“I do. I never thought I could get so attached to a steer. As you know, I grew up here and we raised them all the time for meat. I never got attached because I knew what their fate was. But I lowered my guard with Charlie and just couldn't send him to the abattoir when he got to the right weight. I didn't think Mama and Daddy would keep him when ..... when .... when I was gone.”

They had arrived at Charlie's pasture. There was a light on a pole, similar to a street light, by the pasture. Marissa had turned it on when she was in the horse barn getting an apple. Charlie saw them coming and jumped the fence to greet Marissa and this stranger. His human was relaxed and not showing signs of stress, so the steer was at ease, feeling that the stranger was safe.

Marissa showed Chris how to feed her bovine pet pieces of apple and they took turns. When the apple was finished, she took a blanket from the back of the ATV to put on the ground. “Here, let me help you”, Chris offered. Charlie lay down and Marissa got down on the blanket to give him ear scratches. “I can see the bond you two have”, he said as he sat down beside her.

“Charlie is great. I'm so glad Mama and Daddy kept him.”

“That's the second time you've mentioned your parents keeping him and you were surprised that they did. I take it that you hadn't asked them to look after him?”

Marissa was confused. Surely, he'd been told what had happened to her? “It's not like I was planning on going away.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“Did my parents put you up to this, Chris?” she asked, looking at him warily.

Chris sighed. He did not want to lie as he feared that would only drive her away. Yet, telling the truth risked that as well. “Yes”, he replied, deciding to be honest. “But please hear me out before telling me where to go. Your parents - and Brent - are extremely worried about you. They haven't told me what happened, they feel that is up to you to do, but they did say that you have been through a lot and are having nightmares. They think that you need someone to talk to and they feel you'd be more comfortable with someone you know and like rather than a stranger. So they asked me if I'd be willing to chat with you. This isn't official 'therapy', you don't have coverage under AHCIP yet and I don't think your insurance would cover therapy outside the USA. Also, I'd rather talk to you as a family friend than as a shrink. What do you think about that?”

Marissa nodded. “I can do that, I think. Does what I say stay between us?”

“Of course. I won't say anything to anyone without your permission.”

“You can talk to my parents and Brent. And my oncologist if you feel you need to. Oh, and Braxton, but it's doubtful you'd be taking to him since nobody knows where he is. But nobody else. Do you want me to recount everything that happened?”

“If you are comfortable doing that.”

“I'll try to keep it as brief as I can.” She leaned back against Charlie, who was chewing his cud, and once more told the story of being kidnapped by the Cartel and working for them, ending with her kidney infection and the nephrostomy.

Chris had listened intently to Marissa's story, trying to keep an impartial expression, even though he was seething with anger at how she'd been treated and what she'd been forced to do. When she finished, he was quiet for a moment, then said in a soft voice. “That's an awful lot, Marissa. How do you feel about it?”

“Chris!” she whined. “You're acting like a shrink!”

He laughed. “I guess I am. It's ingrained. I really want to know, though. What's the biggest emotion you feel when you think about it?”

“Anger!” Marissa exclaimed. “How else am I supposed to feel?”

“There is no right or wrong answer. Whatever you are feeling is valid. I'm sure there's more than anger.”

“I'm also terrified.”

Chris could see the fear in her eyes. “Of what?”

“Testifying. Them coming after my family again. And of my surgery and chemo.”

“Very understandable. We can work on that if you like.”

“I'm going to Denver next week and I will be gone for quite a while.”

“I know. We can talk on the phone, or on Skype if you like. Even if you don't want to talk about this stuff while you're recovering from the operation, I hope you will keep in touch.”

“Of course I will. Chris, I'm also pissed off that I lost my friendship with Braxton. They wouldn't let me contact him after they took me out of Denver. I was afraid that his phone would be bugged so I didn't try, except for that one email I sent from the library.”

“Don't give up, Marissa. If you are meant to see Braxton again, it will happen.”

“Chris, do you believe in psychics?” she asked after debating on whether to tell him about her encounter with one in the Bahamas.

He chose his words carefully. “I think there are a lot of frauds, but that doesn't mean that there aren't any genuine ones. Why do you ask?”

Marissa told him about Kezia and what she'd told her about seeing Braxton again. “I don't know how she could have known about him if she wasn't psychic.”

“It does sound like she may be the real deal”, he agreed. I'm glad you took her advice about getting out of the situation you were in. With your permission, I'd like to try to find Braxton. I may be able to do that using my professional credentials - the APA might be more likely to give another therapist information on where he is or at the very least, pass along a message to him.”

“Would you do that?” she asked hopefully.

“Yes, I would.”

“Oh, thank you, Chris!” For the first time in a long time, she had hope that she'd find her friend.

“You have to do something for me in return, Marissa.”

“What?”

“Keep talking to me. I'm pretty sure I can help you with your nightmares and dealing with the trauma you've endured.”

“It's a deal.”