Vivid

  Initially, Nate had been angry, too, at the ladies' decision, mainly because he'd stepped into the same trap. These manipulative episodes were becoming a bit too commonplace for his liking. First his Aunt Gail and Miss Edna and now the Quilt Ladies had turned against him to try to force his hand regarding the doctor. The women were a cross that the men of the Grove seemed destined to bear. Their small community had been blessed, or cursed, depending upon the point of view, with women who were not only intelligent, but educated. When the Grove was founded, his grandmother Dorcas made it the law that every child, male and female, must learn to read. As a result, some of the women who'd married men from outside their community could think circles around their husbands, a situation many of these men found outrageous. But what could Nate do? He certainly couldn't threaten to lock them away unless they began to mimic the docile, barely literate women of other communities, as suggested by one husband during last month's Men's Association meeting. Who knew the ramifications that might bring? The women owned many of the businesses, oftimes they voted as a bloc on Grove affairs, and generally they had their way when they wanted it. According to legend, during his grandfather's day the men once tried to rein in their wives. It resulted in a disaster so cataclysmic that even today Nate could not get any of the elder men to discuss what had transpired. The women won, that was all Nate and his contemporaries knew.

  Yet while he hadn't been pleased by this afternoon's outcome, once he calmed down he realized how much he enjoyed having Lancaster beside him, mad as hell at this unexpected turn of events, and that made him smile.

  Vivid kept telling herself this was a small town, reputations meant everything, especially to a woman practicing medicine. It didn't help. She continued to believe that Nate could have done something to bring about a more rational outcome, regardless of his protestations. Wasn't he supposed to be the authority in this town? She'd just resigned herself to having her new office only a few doors from his own, and now the Crazy Quilt Ladies had made the man a member of her staff. She glanced over and saw him smiling. "I fail to see the humor in this, Mr. Grayson."

  "Depends on your point of view," he replied.

  Admittedly, Vivid had only one point of view. “You should have told them you were unable to comply."

  "I tried. We already had this conversation, remember?"

  "You should have been more forceful."

  He grinned. "Your piano playing was forceful enough, Miss Bach."

  Vivid stiffened and whirled to face him.

  Her outrage would have warned off a less confident man, but Nate looked into her flashing eyes and stated, "The next time you're invited to play, before you begin, give me a moment to tiptoe out of the room first. Okay?"

  Vivid knew she was supposed to be angry with him. She knew that for that remark he deserved a blistering lecture on his duty as a gentleman, but she remembered pounding away at that piano and succumbed to the sparkle in his eyes. "It was a pretty atrocious display, wasn't it?"

  "Nothing pretty about it at all," Nate replied. "And you said you took lessons?"

  "Yes," Vivid stated with mock pride. "Believe me or not, I did, every Wednesday afternoon following school. The teacher's name was Madam Henry, and if you struck a wrong note, she'd smack you across the knuckles with a baton. I wished her to perdition many times. So if I play badly, it is Madam's fault, not mine."

  “Glad to see you can laugh at yourself. Many people can't."

  Vivid held his gaze a moment, then looked away, her confidence suddenly overcome by the odd sensations she was feeling.

  Nate enjoyed seeing nervous shyness take hold of her because it afforded him a glimpse of the woman she kept locked away. She'd given him a fascinating peek at that facet of herself last night during their conversation in her cabin about a man pleasing a woman. She'd stammered like a virgin bride in response to his words and it was not the reaction he'd expected.

  However, she'd conducted herself well this afternoon. The ladies were a major hurdle. Everyone knew they could be as touchy as a nest of hornets, and there were no guarantees they'd continue to offer the doctor their support, but she'd passed their tests with flying colors. Her manners were stellar. Nate noticed that even Brenna had begun to imitate the way Lancaster held her head and the way she raised her cup to her lips. Watching her conduct herself with such decorum and grace made him wonder once again how someone so elegant expected to survive in such a place as this. "If it will make you feel any better, you probably won't be needing me at your office."

  "Oh, splendid, you're going to ignore their edict. Mr. Grayson, thank you so—"

  He looked into her dark eyes. "Hold on a minute. Don't get me wrong, I will be abiding by the ladies' decision because I don't want them camped in my doorway until I do. You won't be needing me because the men won't be seeking you out."

  Vivid searched his face. "I don't understand."

  "They're going to wait for the circuit doctor to handle their complaints."

  Vivid stared. "And this is supposed to make me feel better? Why won't they come to me?"

  She didn't really need the answer. She knew. She sat back against the bench and for a moment couldn't speak. Finally, she asked, "Will they keep their wives and children away also?"

  "Some will."

  "How do you know this?"

  "From listening to the talk down at the mill and out on the farms. You're a female; some see nothing else."

  "And you, is that all you see?"

  Nate sighed. Another one of her pointed questions. "You've only been here three days, Lancaster."

  "Yet three days is all the men around here need to keep their wives and children from seeking trained care."

  Nate didn't respond.

  "I suppose it would be silly of me to believe you've stayed neutral in all this?"

  "Now there you're wrong," Nate countered, looking her way. "I've made it my business to let folks decide on their own."

  Vivid held his eyes. "Then I apologize."

  "Apology accepted."

  He thought it only fair she know which way the wind blew. As he'd predicted, folks were already choosing sides. Unfortunately, the lines were being drawn mainly by gender. Women on one side, men on the other. Adam Crowley, a boyhood friend of Nate's late father and the man Aunt Gail deemed the bane of her existence, wanted Gail to be censured. He said she'd overstepped her bounds by bringing in an untrained young female without council approval. Abigail had been charged to search for a doctor, and while no one denied her judgment, no one had expected a female, either.

  Yet here she sat, and Nate had given her permission to stay, albeit temporarily.

  "When will my office be ready?" she asked, refusing to let him see how devastating his revelation had been to her spirit. A big part of her wanted to run home to California and wail in her mama's arms. Didn't these men know anything about dreams?

  "I really don't know. I'm having trouble finding someone to take the job since everybody's planting." Nate could see that she was upset by the men's plans and was surprised by how disturbed he felt. For the past three days she'd had enough inner fire to fuel a train's engine, but it appeared as if the flame had been suddenly extinguished. She stared out over the roadside with distant eyes.

  "Would it be agreeable for me to do the work myself?"

  He looked over at her, and before he could open his mouth, she warned softly, "If you say anything about my ability to clean I will shoot you right now, not later."

  He inclined his head politely. "Pax, madam. I will give you the keys whenever it is convenient."

  "Thank you, I'd like to begin first thing in the morning."

  Later that evening, as Vivid sat in the chair in her front room watching the shadows chase away the last bit of day, she fought off the feelings of melancholy. She'd known coming to this place and proving herself would be a challenge and she'd anticipated some resistance, but she'd never envisioned anyone mounting a campaign against her. Had she really been as nai
ve as Nate Grayson accused on the day they met? Had she taken it for granted folks would be so grateful for good sound medical treatment that they wouldn't care what she looked like beneath her clothes?

  Maybe she had, but she still didn't want it to be true. The race needed women like herself stretching the lines of both gender and race, especially now when the country seemed bent upon moving back and not forward. These were frightening times and even more horror lay ahead if the political climate continued to play true. Every advance the race made was necessary if it was to survive. More women like Maria W. Stewart were needed, not fewer. In 1832 Miss Stewart, a Black woman, became the first American woman of any race to lecture to public audiences. And there was Mary Shadd, who in 1853 grew tired of being vilified in Henry Bibb's Black abolitionist weekly, The Voice of the Fugitive, and so founded The Provincial Freeman in response. By doing so she became one of the first women, and the first Black woman on the North American continent, to edit and publish a newspaper. Vivid herself owed a tremendous debt to another pioneering Black woman, Miss Rebecca Lee. Fifteen years after Elizabeth Blackwell became the first American woman to gain a degree in medicine, Rebecca Lee received hers from the New England Medical College. Had Miss Lee not pursued her dream, Vivid might not have been afforded the opportunity to succeed on her own.

  Those women and many thousands like them had uplifted not only the race but the country as well, and just like Vivid they had to defend themselves from small minds and the rocks thrown at them by opposers in order to carve out their niche. When Mary Shadd published her first edition, she thought it best her name not be placed on the masthead of her own newspaper for fear the men in the abolitionist movement would not take her editorials seriously. Poor Maria Stewart caused such an uproar with her ringing antislavery speeches, she was driven from her home city of Boston. Yet these women did not give up.

  "Dr. Lancaster, are you at home?"

  Vivid's musings were abruptly interrupted by Abigail calling her through the screened door.

  Vivid greeted her, then pushed the door aside so she could enter.

  Abigail held her ebony cane in one hand and a covered plate in the other, which she handed to Vivid. "This is for you, dear. You missed supper."

  Vivid thanked her, then set the offering on the table. Vivid hadn't gone up to the house that evening because she hadn't had much of an appetite.

  Abigail walked over and sat in one of the stuffed chairs. While Vivid ate from the plate filled with green beans, potatoes, and ham, Abigail seemed content to sit quietly in the deepening shadows. Dusk had given way to the first clear black of night.

  Vivid ate in silence and when she finished everything on her plate, she realized how hungry she really had been. "Thank you, Miss Grayson. You seem to know more about what I needed than I did."

  "You're welcome. I expect you at our table every evening from now on, young lady, and call me Abigail or Gail."

  Vivid nodded with a smile.

  "So how did you fare with Caroline and the coven? I've spoken to Nate, but I'd like to hear your view."

  Vivid told her about the afternoon tea and even confessed the details of her awful piano performance. She finished by saying, "So whenever a male patient is in the office, your nephew must be in attendance also."

  "You and he aren't getting along very well yet, are you?"

  "Yet?" Vivid chuckled sarcastically. "Ever seems to be more the word. I lay this whole mess directly at his door."

  "Nate said as much."

  “No disrespect intended, Abigail, but your nephew is a very trying man."

  Abigail sounded amused as she said, "That is the truth, but we love him in spite of that fault. You will, too, eventually."

  Vivid stared, "Excuse me?"

  "Oh, dear, I mean that in a neighborly sense. My nephew, for all his faults, is a splendidly caring man. He wouldn't be heading this town if he weren't."

  Fortunately for Vivid, the darkness shrouded her skeptical expression. "Did he also tell you about the men refusing to see me, and maybe keeping away their wives and children?"

  "It's all over town. It's probably fortunate Caroline gave her approval, otherwise she might have lined up on the side of the men. But don't worry, it's mainly the men we always have problems pleasing, the men born outside the Grove. Nate hasn't declared one way or the other. Adam Crowley, damn his wooden head, is raising a stink also, but only because I'm involved. He's an influence here and should know better."

  Vivid wondered when she'd meet this Adam Crowley.

  "So, Viveca, in the face of all that has happened today and all that will undoubtedly happen before things become normal, what do you plan to do?"

  “This afternoon I had serious doubts about myself and where my dreams might be headed; however, the longer I sat here and thought about all the women who've come before me, the more I realized that they succeeded because they refused to give up. This community needs a doctor. I am that person. I'm here to stay and I will fight to practice."

  Abigail applauded. “Bravo, my dear. I told Edna you wouldn't run. One day I'd like to meet your mother. She must be an extraordinary individual to raise such an outstanding young woman. Bravo!"

  Vivid grinned under the ringing endorsement. "Do you have any suggestions as to how I might bring these men over to my side?"

  "I wouldn't worry about them for now. If the situation becomes serious, we'll implement a plan, but until then you just go on about the business of settling in and introducing yourself. Most folks are smart enough to see the light."

  They then discussed Vivid's plans for the office. Abigail offered to assist any way she could and also suggested that Vivid take Magic along to help with the cleaning. She even promised Magic's mouser, Cleopatra, to deal with any vermin.

  Vivid thought the idea a splendid one. She enjoyed Magic's company and decided it might be an opportunity for the two of them to become better acquainted.

  Abigail stood with the assistance of her cane and strode to the door. "I will leave you now, Dr. Lancaster—"

  "Please call me Viveca."

  "Thank you, I'd like that. And Viveca, don't worry. Next year this time, you'll have proven yourself, and everyone will be trying to remember what the fuss was all about."

  "Thank you, Abigail."

  "You're welcome. Get some rest now."

  "Abigail?"

  "Yes."

  "Why didn't you tell your nephew I was female?"

  Abigail chuckled softly. “Because, dear, although my nephew is one of the most intelligent men I know, he's still a man. He would have given me all the silly reasons why a female would be unsuitable. I am the only Grayson female in many generations and I'm accustomed to having my way. We needed a doctor. I reviewed your credentials and found you qualified. I've also learned it is far better to beg forgiveness than to seek permission in some situations, and you were one of those situations. Does that answer your question?"

  Vivid grinned. "Yes."

  "Then again, good night."

  Vivid watched her walk across the grass until she disappeared into the night.

  Chapter 7

  The predawn chill in the cabin gave Vivid goose flesh as she left the warmth of her bed. It had been hot as blazes for the past few days, but this morning felt like San Francisco in January.

  The wood floor was cold and Vivid made a mental note to buy rugs soon. She hastened into her robe and pulled on her boots. Then she picked up the bucket and headed outside to the Graysons' pump.

  A brisk wind greeted her the moment she stepped onto the porch, whipping at her clothes so unexpectedly, only her quick hand kept them from flying up around her thighs. Laughing, she held her clothing as best she could then went about her business.

  The breeze felt fresh, invigorating, so much so that she set down the bucket and turned her face to the wind. It rushed over her, filling her with its sounds and vitality, and evoking fond memories of being young. She and her sisters had always been very imaginative,
and for the longest time Jess had Vivid believing that if she closed her eyes, stretched out her arms, and concentrated, the wind would make her fly. Vivid hadn't flown in many years. She took a quick glance around and, fairly confident she wouldn't be seen at such an early hour, she released her hold on her robe, then slowly extended her arms.

  "What the hell is she doing?" Nate whispered in amazement as he stared down at Viveca Lancaster from his bedroom window. She stood with her arms stretched out, slowly twirling in the wind. Then she stopped, held her robe wide, and let it unfurl around her, becoming a sail in the breeze. The thin, loose-fitting gown she wore alternately clung to her then fluttered outward. The capricious breeze blew the hem to her knees, then undulated it higher, affording him a startling look at her dark, slender legs in a pair of black Western-cut boots just before her hand clamped the gown down again.

  His arousal was immediate.

  If he had any sense he'd move away from the window and forget what he'd seen, but she called to him like a siren, and he'd already become ensnared.

  He watched as she resumed her slow twirls. Her hands held the robe wide again and it blossomed. She dipped it, then lifted it, making it ripple high, then low. She had all the enchantment of a wind sprite come out to play, and as Nate watched the breeze mold the gown tautly against her breasts and thighs, he discovered yet another facet to this dark jewel. This innocently sensual display proved a woman did dwell within the no-nonsense, serious doctor. Only a woman with a deep well of passion would be out taking pleasure from the kisses of the wind.

  Vivid knew she should pump her water, but the wind felt so invigorating and so glorious she let herself enjoy it a few moments longer. Truth be told, she wished at the moment to be on a deserted island where she could safely shed every stitch of clothing and feel the wind as nature had intended, on her bare back, her arms, her legs, her thighs. Decidedly unladylike thoughts, but Vivid didn't care. She felt free.

  "Good morning, Dr. Lancaster."

  Vivid spun at the sound of Nate Grayson's voice. Fighting the wind for possession of her clothing, she stared aghast. Where on earth had he come from? More importantly, what had he seen? Judging by those smiling smoke-dark eyes, plenty. "Um, good morning, Mr. Grayson. I...came out for some water."