Reese glanced up at the clock behind Marges head. It read five-thirty, exactly the same time she arrived for her workout every evening.

"How come?" she asked in surprise. "I said Id be here."

Marge shrugged elaborately. "Silly me! I should have known that was as good as a guarantee!!"

Reese just shrugged at the gentle chiding and set about her routine. She finished three sets of leg and back exercises in ninety minutes, then went to the locker room to shower. She put on pressed tan chinos, a navy blue denim shirt, and a light beige blazer that covered the holster she secured under her left arm in a shoulder rig. She checked the mirror - the gun didnt show - and went out to meet Marge.

They walked down Commercial Street toward town and turned in at the Cactus Flower. It was still too early in the season to worry about reservations, but that would change within the next few days. They got a good table at the front windows overlooking the street, so they could watch the slow stroll of passersby as they dined. They both ordered margaritas while they looked over the menu.

"This isnt a date, you know," Marge announced after they had given their orders to the waitress.

Reese sipped her drink - it was strong and tart, and gazed at the woman across from her calmly. "It hadnt occurred to me that it might be."

Marge laughed. "This is Provincetown, Sheriff! When one woman asks another woman out to dinner, its usually a date."

Reese nodded solemnly. "Then why isnt this a date?"

Marge stared back, totally nonplussed. The startling handsome woman across from her was impossible to figure out. She gave nothing away in her expression, or her voice. Nothing seemed to surprise her, or throw her off stride. Marge wondered what, if anything, could shake her calm control. She also wondered what price that kind of control exacted.

Reese seemed completely without pretense, and Marge answered in kind. "Its not a date for two reasons - my expectations, and my intentions."

"How so?" Reese inquired. She voiced no challenge, only honest interest.

"Id be a fool to think youd be interested in me. For one thing, Im twenty years older than you-"

Reese smiled at that, shaking her head. "Hardly," she said, studying Marges tanned, well-developed form.

"Close enough," Marge grunted.

Reese waited while the silence grew. "And the other reason?" she asked quietly.

Marge blushed as she said, "Youre too damn butch to go for an old jock like me. I figure your tastes run more to the femme type."

Reese leaned back while the waitress slid their plates in front of them, contemplating Marges words. Marge was the second person in as many weeks to say that to her. She had never thought of herself as butch, and tried to imagine how she appeared to others. It was something with which she had no experience. Up until this point in her life, her rank had determined how others related to her, and how she related to them. The rules of conduct, including who you could "fraternize" with, were clear. They were frequently circumvented, but not by Reese. It wasnt that she agreed with the rules so much as she had no reason to challenge them. She had spent her life either preparing to be, or being, an officer. Her professional and personal life was one and the same.

"Im not so sure about the butch thing, but Im pretty sure I dont have any particular "type" of anything," she said after a moment.

Marge snorted as she busied herself with her food. "Trust me on this, Sheriff - if you go in for the politically incorrect terminology, you are as butch as it gets. Dont let it bother you."

Reese smiled. "Well, whatever you call it, it comes naturally to me. So - this is just a friendly dinner then?"

"Yes."

"Fair enough."

"Since were being all revealing here," Marge continued, "howd you end up in our little town?"

"I needed a job, and this was the right one for me," Reese remarked.

"So you didnt come here looking for love?" Marge asked half-seriously.

Reese smiled a little ruefully. "Not precisely."

"And you didnt leave anybody behind? No attachments?"

"No," Reese replied. "I dont have any attachments."

Marge shook her head. "You are definitely something of an oddity around here. Most people come here to find someone, or to escape something."

"Im not all that different. Its just not what youre thinking."

"And I dont suppose youre going to fill me in?" Marge prodded gently.

Just as gently, Reese replied. "Not tonight."

They finished their dinner in easy conversation. When Marge saw Reese glance at her watch for the second time, she asked, "You have to be somewhere?"

"The clinic," Reese replied. "Im supposed to stop by there and have some stitches removed. The doctor said shed be there until ten."

"Dont rush. Shes always there late. I live just down the road. She doesnt seem to do much except work!

"It must get pretty busy, especially when youre the only doctor in town," Reese commented, remembering Victoria Kings resolute determination to make that dangerous journey over the rocks to aid the injured man. Her dedication was clear, and admirable.

"Sure its tough, especially if you use it as an excuse to avoid a social life! Dont you think there are plenty of doctors who would just love to live up here during the season and work for her?"

Reese regarded her silently. She felt a strong desire to come to Victorias defense, and a strange surge of anger at Marges criticism. Both responses confused her.

Marge didnt miss Reeses sudden withdrawal. "Hey, I like her," she said seriously. "I always have. Shes a great friend to the people of this town, and there are more than a few who would like to know her better, if shed let them." She shrugged as she reached for their check. "She doesnt seem to trust anyone to get too close, and thats a damn shame."

"Im sure she has her reasons," was all Reese said.

**********

Randy was on his way out the front door when Reese walked up.

"All through?" she asked the receptionist.

" I am," he said petulantly. "The last patients are in rooms, but at the rate shes going it could take her another hour. She can barely walk, and it serves her right - traipsing out on that jetty like some macho superhero! I wouldnt be surprised if she isnt on crutches tomorrow! And it wouldnt be the first time either!!"

His obvious distress belied the criticism in his voice. He was clearly worried about Tory, and Reese immediately liked him. He continued to fuss while he unlocked the door for Reese.

"Do you think shed let me cancel patients just because she needs to be in bed? Of course not!" He held the door open as he spoke. "You might as well go back to her office and wait. Its more comfortable there, and shell find you when shes finished. She insisted that I go home on time! Could do without me, she said. Ha! Wait until she sees that appointment book - good luck! Then well see who doesnt need me!"

Reese had to smile at the slender, attractive young mans tirade, but her thoughts were of the woman who had made a selfless gesture despite the cost. She was suddenly very anxious to see her.

"Ill go on back. Thank you."

Reese settled into the chair before Victorias desk, rested her hat on her knee, and let her eyes wander over the photos of the previous Olympian. Eventually she heard the approach of slow footsteps, and turned to greet the doctor. Victoria looked pale and drawn, but her eyes held a smile.

"Have you been waiting long?" Tory inquired as she eased herself into the leather chair behind her desk. She tried to hide a grimace as another spasm clamped onto her calf, forcing her to gasp.

"Not very," Reese said quietly. "Is there anything I can do?" Victorias pain was obvious, and watching her struggle with it made Reese feel helpless and uneasy.

Tory looked at her in surprise. "God, you get to the point, dont you? Why is it that my "handicap" doesnt seem to put you off the way that it does most people?" She was too tired and in too much pain to hide her bitterness.

"You have an injury, Doctor. "Handicapped" is not a word I would use to describe you," Reese remarked as she moved boldly around the side of Victorias desk. "Now, what needs to be done here?" she finished softly.

"I need to get this damn brace off," Tory said through gritted teeth, "but if I do Im not going to be able to get to my car."

"Well worry about that later," Reese said as she knelt down. She pushed up the leg of Torys jeans and studied the hinged metal device that extended from just below her knee to the arch of her foot. Her face was expressionless as she took in the criss-crossing of surgical scars and skin grafts over the damaged atrophied muscles. "Doesnt look too complicated," she said evenly. "May I?"

Reeses actions had taken Tory completely by surprise. She stared into the deep blue eyes that searched her face, suddenly terrified that she might cry. She was so used to fighting the endless discomfort and awkwardness alone, that the straightforward offer of help almost overwhelmed her.

"Please," she whispered, her throat tight.

Reese released the velcro bindings and gently eased the brace off. Victorias leg was swollen from the calf down, and her ankle was beginning to discolor. Tory gasped with pain as Reese softly massaged the injured tissues, bringing a sudden rush of blood to the area.

"Im sorry," Reese murmured. "We need to do something about this swelling. Ice?"

"Theres a cold pack above the sink in the treatment room," Tory managed, struggling with the physical pain and the unexpected emotional turmoil Reese had unwittingly provoked.