"So I see."
At least he hadn't been able to read her last scandalous thoughts. Or had he?
He reached down, picked up the bucket, and without a word strode over to the pump.
Dismayed, Vivid followed.
He set the bucket below the spout. She tried not to stare as he undid the buttons of his cuffs and rolled the sleeves up past his elbows, but her eyes were instantly drawn to the beautiful structure of his arms. Watching the ebb and flow of the sculpted mahogany muscles as he pumped the handle made her begin a mental recitation of muscle names and tendon groups just as if he were a model in her anatomy class. Her fascination gave way to contemplating the muscles in his back and shoulders, and she wondered if they were as finely molded as the rest.
Shocked by her thoughts, she tore her eyes away. Definitely unladylike. When she glanced back she found him watching her with a gaze that made her throat suddenly go dry.
"Do you often play in the wind?" he asked.
Vivid swallowed. She no longer felt the wind or heard the rustle in the trees. There was only his gaze and her own pounding heart. "Uh, no, not usually, at least not since I've been grown." She sensed she was babbling so she stopped talking. She also realized that she was developing an attraction to this man, and that startled her.
"Do you need me to carry this back for you?" he asked, pointing to the full bucket.
"No," she said, shaking her head. "That won't be necessary, thank you."
She took the bucket from his outstretched hand. "I...should be going."
He nodded.
Vivid headed back to the safety of her cabin feeling his eyes following her every step of the way.
After washing up and getting dressed, Vivid coiled her hair into a knot and secured it low on her neck. She tried not to think about Nate Grayson and this morning's incident. "He probably assumes you've lost your mind," she told her reflection in the glass hanging on the wall. Her behavior hardly fit a woman wanting to be taken seriously, and she knew he would take great pleasure in pointing that out as soon as the opportunity arose. That she found him attractive was not an admission she took pride in. Nate Grayson had proven to be stubborn and opinionated. He had openly voiced a disbelief in her abilities. Such attributes hardly qualified him as a "catch" in a mama's book of eligibles, but here she stood attracted to a man she had as much business being drawn to as a goat had going to school, to quote her father.
Yet by the time Vivid left her cabin and walked across the yard for breakfast with the Graysons, she'd convinced herself that her attraction could be directly attributed to the residual weariness of her cross-country journey. She was tired. Were she properly rested, she would not be contemplating the deltoids and pectorals of a man she'd known less than five days, not even one as strikingly handsome as Nate Grayson; either that or she'd contracted the ague.
Vivid had breakfast with Abigail and Magic. Nate had already departed for town. He'd left instructions that she could retrieve the keys to her new place from him at his office.
After the meal, they all headed into town along with Cleopatra.
When they arrived, Vivid tied the buggy to the post outside her new office while Abigail and Magic went off to Miss Edna's store to enlist her help with the cleaning. Vivid then strode to Grayson's office. She walked in and found him standing near a black-bellied stove pouring a cup of coffee from a battered pot. He looked up at her entrance. "Mr. Grayson, I've come for—"
Those were the last words Nate heard. As she stepped further into the office he took in her full attire and lost all his senses. He stared, speechless, at the denim trousers encasing the lower half of her body. He'd seen other women in such male attire but he'd never been so affected. The trousers displayed the lean, lush line of her hips, tempted him with the enticing structure of her legs, and evoked the memory of seeing them bared by that morning's wind. On her feet were the boots he'd seen beneath her gown. He gave them, and the long-sleeved, red plaid shirt she wore, barely a glance other than to note the shirt appeared to be a few sizes too large, because his eyes kept returning to her denim-shrouded legs. In fact, the sight held him so absolutely riveted he didn't realize he was still pouring coffee until the hot liquid spilled over the cup and onto his hand. With a loud curse he quickly set down both pot and cup and shook his injured fingers.
Vivid rushed to him, her face filled with concern. "Are you all right? What on earth were you thinking?"
Her hands were warm and firm as she checked his hand for damage. She looked up at him, then quickly around the office. "Is there a towel or—never mind, here—''
She proceeded to dry his wet hand on the front of her shirt. He knew she'd acted strictly out of reflex but his arousal was immediate, just as it had been that morning.
He looked down at her shiny hair as she peered at his hand. "It doesn't appear as if you've scalded yourself. You might want to run it under cool water just to be safe. Does it sting?"
She released his hand. He flexed it. "No."
"Good. If it begins to, let me know. And you really should be more careful in the future, Mr. Grayson."
"I will," he replied, but the sight of her continued to tempt him mightily. He wondered how long he'd be able to keep his hands off her. Since this morning, he'd thought of nothing else, a galling admission considering the circumstances. Her attire did not help matters. He decided it best he go sit behind his desk. Truth be told, she made him as hard as railroad iron, and in a few more moments his condition would be impossible to conceal. He heard her ask, "Are you certain you're all right?" "Certain, Lancaster. Let me get you your key." He walked as if he were in pain and Vivid remembered that the men would take their ailments to the circuit doctor. Had he really injured himself but refused to believe her competent enough to treat a scalded hand? Vivid sighed with disappointment, then said quietly, "I am capable of treating a simple burn, Mr. Grayson. You needn't wait for the circuit doctor if you're in pain."
Seated safely behind his desk now, Nate tried not to smile. She obviously had no idea what he needed to salve his real pain. "My hand's fine, Dr. Lancaster. Truly."
Vivid didn't believe him. "May I have the key, please?"
Nate extended the key to her and she took it from his hand with a curt "Thank you."
As she sauntered out, Nate forced himself to concentrate on some papers atop his desk, hoping they would distract him, but his will was weak. He looked up and watched those denim-clad hips until they disappeared from view.
After Vivid removed the padlock, Magic gently tossed Cleopatra inside and closed the door. Twenty minutes later, they opened it again. The cat strolled out with a small brown field mouse in her teeth. She laid the dead rodent at Magic's feet, then strode back inside. All in all, she made five trips. When she sat down after the last one and regally licked her paws, Magic proudly declared the job done and they could all go safely inside.
The wood boarding up the window front kept light from entering. Vivid stepped back outside to assess how the wood had been attached to the window frame and she determined that a good stiff crowbar would do to remove the boards.
"Well, hello, Viveca."
Vivid turned to see Eli Grayson coming up the wood walk.
She smiled. "Hello, Eli. Welcome back."
"Thank you. Quite a blustery morning, wouldn't you say?"
"Yes, it is. What happened to the warm weather?" The temperature had risen since the early morning hours, but still hovered at least twenty degrees below the warmth of the past few days.
"This is Michigan. We have a saying, 'If you don't care for the weather, just wait a few moments and it will change.' "
She smiled. "Is it really that temperamental?
"Would a newspaperman lie?"
Vivid ignored that barb and asked instead, "How was Kalamazoo?" She still found the name strange and decided that after things quieted a bit she would have to travel there.
"Still standing. Nate didn't marry you while I was gone, did he?"
>
"Of course not," she responded with a laugh.
"Good, then there's still hope for me."
Vivid shook her head, amused by his teasing.
"So what are you doing here?" he asked, gesturing at the shop.
Vivid explained it to him as she took him back inside. After he greeted his mother and Miss Edna, and surprised Magic with some new marbles, he offered to lend a hand in the effort.
With the aid of two crowbars, Vivid and Eli made short work of the wood covering the window. If Eli found it strange to be engaged in such activity beside a woman, he didn't let on. Vivid silently blessed him for being one of the few men she'd encountered here who seemed intent upon helping rather than hindering her quest. She did notice that he spent quite an inordinate time staring at her trousers and smiling, but she ignored it. She wore trousers most of the time; he and the rest of the men would simply have to become accustomed to the sight.
Once the wood was removed, the light streamed in and the crew could better determine what they were up against. Dust and dirt mostly. There were a few dress forms tossed like cadavers in one corner and some dust-covered bolts of cloth in another, but other than those things, the front room appeared to be easy to clean up.
The two small back rooms had to be lit by the lanterns to be seen fully. They would require much more work. Spiders had taken over the space, and there were sticky dust-filled cobs throughout. The mice had also taken up residence in an abandoned mattress; their droppings and pieces of the mattress's cotton batting littered the floor, along with what appeared to be hundreds of acorn shells and other seed husks.
"Squirrels," Miss Edna remarked.
"There must be a fairly decent-sized hole in the walls somewhere," Eli said.
"How long has this shop been empty?" Vivid asked.
"Nearly a year now," Abigail said, leaning on her cane. "Reba, that was the seamstress's name, left last August."
"I was told she left because she didn't like the winter."
"Partially," Eli said, smiling at her as handsomely as his cousin. "Partially."
Then Magic piped up and said, "Becky Carpenter said she left because Pa wouldn't marry her."
Silence.
Abigail cleared her throat and said, "Majestic, dear, why don't you begin taking those dress forms over to the store and place them in Miss Edna's cellar."
"Sure, Aunt Gail."
She departed happily and they all began to work.
Vivid thought about Magic's revelation as she and Miss Edna swept up the debris from the dirt floor. Had the town's former seamstress really left because of unrequited love? Vivid remembered the night she and Nate Grayson discussed how he had lost all hope of finding a woman to share what his parents had shared. Had that hope died because of this Reba? Vivid finally decided it made no sense to wrestle with questions for which she had no answers. Besides, why worry over a man who didn't even believe her competent enough to treat a small burn?
Vivid and her small contingent worked full bore until a bit past the noon hour, at which point Abigail declared a luncheon break. Abigail, who'd spent the morning supervising everyone, left to retrieve the basket of food from the buggy. Magic tagged along to help, and when they returned, Magic told her great-aunt, “I promised Pa me and Cleopatra would have our lunch with him today. May I be excused?"
"Why certainly, dear."
Vivid watched Magic exit with a run.
"Walk!" her great aunt warned, too late as always.
After lunch, Vivid and her helpers went back to work. By mid-afternoon, though, she was alone. Miss Edna had to return to her store, and Eli left to take the tired Abigail and Magic back home and then head off to tend to business at the Gazette. Vivid thanked him and promised to treat him free of cost should the need ever arise. Eli asked her to have dinner with him instead and departed with a smile. Vivid spent the balance of the afternoon sweeping acorns and hauling the debris to a growing pile in back of the shop. She returned from yet another trip to find one of the Patterson twins inside the shop.
"May I help you?" she asked. Vivid remembered their names as being Abraham and Aaron but she had no idea which of the two stood before her now.
"You know which one I am?" he asked challengingly.
By his manner, she assumed him to be the more cantankerous of the two. "Aaron."
He didn't answer. She noticed then that he kept rubbing his right jaw and wincing. "Something paining your jaw, Aaron?"
"No," he replied almost too quickly.
"Are you certain?"
"Not letting a female doctor on me."
"That's your choice, Mr. Patterson. Why are you here, then?"
"Heard you were moving in. Just came over to get a look is all."
Again he held his jaw, but he quickly dropped his arm and said, "Reba Winston used to own this place."
"Yes, I've heard that."
"Good-looking woman, Reba."
Vivid hadn't heard that.
"Yep," Aaron said. "Right good-looking woman."
Vivid waited to see where this strange encounter was heading. He looked around once more, then added, "Well, just wanted to take a look."
"I'm pleased you showed an interest. Stop back anytime, Mr. Patterson."
He grumbled something that sounded like thank you, then left. Curious, Vivid walked to the doorway and saw him clutching his jaw as he headed up the walk. He was obviously in pain from something. Vivid stepped back inside, shaking her head at his stubbornness, and the stubbornness of one other man in particular.
As the afternoon waned into evening, Vivid decided she could do no more today. The front of the shop appeared infinitely cleaner, but it would be several days before the back rooms were usable. She stretched to relieve her muscles of the tightness and aches. She'd worked hard today. After dinner she planned on taking a hot bath and going straight to bed. Tomorrow was Sunday, and Sunday meant church.
After closing the door and throwing the bolt, she took the short walk to Nate's office to ask if he wanted the key returned.
Nate had convinced himself that his reaction to Lancaster that morning had occurred simply because he'd been caught unawares. He had not seen many women in trousers. He doubted he'd be so bowled over by her a second time. Yet when he looked up and saw her at the door, he was thankful he was already seated. “Evening, Dr. Lancaster. Are you ladies still working?"
"No. Your aunt and daughter left a few hours ago."
"How's it coming?"
"Not too badly. The back rooms are a mess, but nothing that can't be remedied. I came to ask if I may keep the key."
"You might as well. The shop's yours now."
Vivid nodded and slipped the key into her breast pocket.
Nate tried not to be interested in the way her shirt brushed against her nipple as she buttoned the pocket flap, but he was finding it extremely difficult. "Do you need a ride?''
"No, Abigail left me the buggy. Your cousin Eli came by and took them home.
Silence.
Vivid felt compelled to explain. "He stopped in and remained to lend a hand."
"Always helpful, my cousin. How long did he hang around?"
"He didn't just hang around. He worked very hard and stayed past lunch. When your aunt tired, he drove them home." Vivid wondered if the tension between the two men was rooted in more than a difference in politics.
He asked, "Are you going to be able to get back alone?"
Vivid hadn't really thought much about the return trip. She'd made the ride into town only a few times but felt fairly confident she could drive back home without losing her way.
"How's your sense of direction?"
"I've no idea."
"No idea?" he repeated.
She shrugged. "I've never had to test it, so I can't say whether it is good or bad."
"Do you at least know west from north?"
Vivid didn't lie. "No, but I will learn."
Nate shook his head.
Vivid felt the
need to defend herself, "Mr. Grayson, we established your perceptions of my shortcomings the day we met. Surely not even you expect me to become a trailblazer overnight."
He looked over at her standing before him, dirty and disheveled from all the work she'd done that day, and replied, "No, you're right.
She smiled. "Are you actually agreeing with me?"
Nate wondered if there was a man on the planet able to resist her smile. "It seems I am. I don't plan on making it a habit, though."
Vivid didn't take offense. "Hannibal didn't cross the Alps in a day, Mr. Grayson."
"True, but how many times did he get lost?"
When Vivid turned and stalked out, they were both smiling. Vivid was lost. She pulled back on the reins and sat a moment looking around. The surroundings didn't appear even vaguely familiar. She should have taken that left fork about a quarter of a mile back. She emitted a soft oath, then picked up the reins and headed the buggy back the way she'd come.
As luck would have it, she reached the fork just as Nate Grayson, atop a big black stallion, rode up. He pulled back on the reins and waited for her to drive out of the brush and back onto the road. Hiding his amusement, he asked, "Admiring the scenery?"
"As a matter of fact, yes," she replied, chin up. "I wanted to see where the fork went, is all."
"Uh-huh."
She watched him dismount, then lead the horse a-round to the back of the buggy. "What are you doing?" she asked.
"Just move over," he replied. "Excuse me?"
He tied the horse's reins to the buggy and came back around. "Move over, I'm driving."
"You most certainly are not," Vivid stated. He looked up at her and wondered if every encounter with her would be akin to pulling teeth.
"Dr. Lancaster, you are going to be the main attraction at church tomorrow and no one will be pleased if you don't make an appearance because you couldn't find your way home."
"Mr. Grayson, I will admit that your directions may be needed, but I am perfectly capable of handling a one-horse buggy. If you choose to come along, I drive."