Vivid

  Nate and Vivid both nodded, though their eyes were still locked on each other's.

  He went in, bellowing Abigail's name.

  Nate returned to kissing his wife-to-be, but the argument raging inside the house between Abigail and Adam kept getting louder and louder. "I should probably go in and make sure they aren't killing each other."

  Vivid, nibbling his lip, agreed.

  He slid his hand over her hips and squeezed her tight, then backed away. "Come on, we'll settle them down, then I'll settle you down..."

  Inside they found Adam standing in Abigail's study. Abigail had her lips pursed angrily as she sat at her desk with her back to him. The argument involved a book Adam had purchased for Abigail, but he refused to let her see its title or to relinquish it to her hands until Abigail had dinner with him. In the weeks since he'd announced his intentions at the church he'd turned Abigail's usually calm days into spirited chaos. When they weren't arguing over historical questions, he was gifting her with flowers, newspapers, and last week had rendered her speechless by presenting her with a beautifully carved cane. Vivid had been in the kitchen when he'd given her the dark wood stick and listened as he said, "You're going to marry me, Gail. Me, Adam Crowley, like you were supposed to have done thirty-five years ago."

  Today, however, Abigail had not been rendered speechless though Vivid could see her eyes coveting the book in Adam's hand. "It's a first edition, Abigail," he told her. "You've been wanting to add it to your library for a long time."

  When Nate asked to see the tome, Adam handed it over gladly. Nate looked at the title and said, "Aunt Gail, I think you'd better tell him yes."

  He showed the title page to Vivid and she smiled; even she knew how valuable Abigail considered this book. On the trip to Detroit she and Abigail had searched high and low for this particular volume but had never found it. "Nate's right, Abigail."

  In the face of that, Abigail surrendered. "Okay, Adam Crowley, dinner it will be."

  He handed her the book. They all watched her eyes widen with astonishment as she read the title, then began to slowly turn the pages.

  "Yes, Abigail," Adam said. "William Welles Brown's The Blackman: His Antecedents, His Genius and His Achievements."

  “Where did you find this, Adam?'' she asked in wonder.

  "Boston. I've had a friend there keeping an eye out for it."

  “This is truly a first edition?''

  "It says right there, 1863," he told her.

  From the smile shining in Abigail's eyes, Vivid didn't think it would be long before Mr. Crowley won the Battle of Abigail.

  Nate and Vivid slipped away now that the fireworks had been extinguished.

  “Where are we going?'' Vivid asked as he pulled her along behind him across the yard.

  "Someplace where there's privacy."

  Before Vivid could question him further, a wagon raced up and Sara James jumped down and ran across the yard screaming for Vivid.

  Vivid ran to her. "Sara, what's wrong?"

  "Oh, Dr. Lancaster, you must come quick. He's trying to kill little Quentin!"

  The panic and horror on Sara's face appeared very real. "Who's trying to kill Quentin?" Vivid asked.

  "Dr. Hayes! Come with me, please!" Sara begged, then clamped a strong hand on Vivid's wrist and began to pull her toward the wagon.

  "Sara, wait, I need to get my bag."

  "We don't have time! Oh, God!" She dropped Vivid's hand and ran back to the wagon.

  Vivid didn't hesitate, she ran to the cabin to retrieve her bag and heard Nate call, "I'm coming, too, meet me at the wagon."

  It took Nate nearly twenty minutes to get them to their destination. On the way, Sara explained that her husband, Quentin, had returned about a week ago. When little Quentin became sick overnight, her husband had fetched the circuit doctor.

  Sara did not wait for the horses to stop before she jumped down and ran to the small whitewashed cabin set a ways back from the road. Nate tied up the buggy while Vivid hurried after Sara.

  Inside the cabin a bed was positioned in the room's center. Around the bed were two men. Sara's pock-faced husband looked up at their entrance, as did a white-haired man who appeared to be centuries old.

  "What the hell you bring her here for?" Quentin asked his wife.

  Sara snapped back, "I'm not going to let him kill little Quentin. I want Dr. Lancaster to take a look."

  The older man standing beside the bed looked Vivid up and down but said nothing to her. Instead he spoke to Nate. "How are you, Nate?"

  "I'm fine. Dr. Hayes, this is Dr. Lancaster. Lancaster, Dr. Wadsworth Hayes."

  "Pleased to meet you, Dr. Hayes," Vivid said.

  "I'm not so fortunate. I don't like women around when I'm treating a patient," he stated.

  Vivid was taken aback by his attack. She gave Nate a questioning look and he shrugged in response.

  Vivid tried again. "Dr. Hayes, may I ask what the child is suffering from?"

  "No, you may not, little girl. Go away."

  Vivid looked at Quentin the elder, who sneered triumphantly, then at Sara, whose fear was still plainly etched across her face. Vivid had had enough of being polite. She walked over to the bed. Leeches were all over the little boy's face and arms. Horrified, she pushed her way to his side and began pulling them off. "Nate! Help me!" she screamed. The angry mouths of the suckers tore away small patches of skin as Vivid flung them away.

  The room erupted into chaos, shouts, and curses as Hayes and Sara's husband sought to restrain Vivid, but she fought them angrily, determined to rid the child of the leeches that were certainly killing him.

  "Get her out of here, Grayson!" Quentin yelled, trying to stay Vivid's hands. "This is my son, and I don't want her near him!"

  "Nooo!" Sara cried. She ran to the bedside and began snatching the leeches from her son's face and arms. Her husband cuffed her sharply with the back of his hand and she recoiled, sobbing.

  Wadsworth Hayes fought to hold back the still defiant Vivid and barked breathlessly, "Grayson, remove this woman or I'll have her arrested. Then I'll make damned sure she never practices medicine in this state again!" Nate grabbed Vivid around her small waist and lifted her from the fray. She screamed her outrage, cursing him with every fiber of her being as he carried her outside. Three days later, Vivid's greatest fear came true. Sara lost her last living child. Hayes had been unable to stop the bleeding once it began. Vivid had seen similar incidents in the wards back in Philadelphia. Sara's little boy had bled to death.

  The day of the funeral, Vivid was having a difficult time summoning the strength to attend. She knew Sara would be overwhelmed with grief and might benefit from her presence, but Vivid felt as if she, too, had lost a child, not to death but to ignorance. In the end, though, she did attend and stood in line with all the other people of the Grove who'd come to pay Sara their respects. Her husband Quentin had reportedly left town.

  After the burial ceremony, as the carriages and buggies filed sedately out of the graveyard, Vivid found herself unable to leave the gravesite. Unshed tears choked her throat and tightened her breath, but she could not cry. She was too angry, she realized. Angry at Hayes, angry at Nate, angry at the pock-faced Quentin, but most of all angry at herself for not being more forceful in keeping that butcher from the child. She was distracted for a moment by the appearance of the men who'd come to fill in the grave. When she asked if she could assist them, the reverend who'd conducted the service gave her a searching look, then silently handed her a shovel. She dug in beside the men and began to toss gentle shovels of rich Michigan earth down onto the small wooden box resting at the bottom of the hole.

  By the time the grave was a quarter filled, Vivid had tears streaming down her face. She saw the reverend glance her way, concern on his face, but Vivid kept up her rhythm, determined to at least help bury the child she'd been unable to help live.

  The unchecked tears began to blur her vision, so much so that she didn't notice Nate come up be
hind her until his hand gently stayed her shovel's movement. Vivid looked into his sad eyes and saw pain as deep as her own. He intimated his desire to bear the burden for her, but she shook him off, saying sadly, "No, I must do this," and went back to her heartbreaking task.

  The only sounds in the graveyard were those of the shovels biting into the earth, and the soft flicks of the earth as it landed. When Nate reappeared a moment later, shovel in hand, he took up a position at her side and added another voice to the mournful rhythm.

  On the ride home from the graveyard, Nate glanced over at her sitting so silently on the seat beside him. She hadn't spoken a word so far, and it worried him to see the redness in her eyes and the weary slump in her shoulders.

  "When was the last time you got a full night's sleep, Lancaster?" he asked gently.

  "Weeks, days ago, I've lost count."

  "You need to rest, you won't be any good to your patients if you're sick."

  "Today proves I'm not any good to my patients, sick or well."

  "There was nothing you could do."

  "I could've done something to keep that boy from being bled to death."

  "Quit blaming yourself. You did everything in your power."

  "Some power—I had the power to curse and scream and that was all. Maybe it wouldn't hurt so much if the child had died of an illness, something I couldn't cure, but he died from ignorance, Nate, pure ignorance."

  "It won't happen again."

  "Yes, it will. Ignorance is the hardest thing to cure."

  "No, it won't. At least not here in the Grove."

  "Why not?"

  "Because we have a fancy new city doctor named Viveca Lancaster."

  Vivid turned to him and looked into his eyes. “What are you saying?" she asked.

  “That I want you to have the position on a permanent basis, starting now."

  "Why now, why today?"

  "Because you're every bit the doctor you say you are, Lancaster, and I refuse to let Wadsworth Hayes near any of our people again."

  His eyes were serious behind the spectacles. She noted that he'd said "our" people as if she was a member of the community, too. Had the last few days not been so filled with tragedy, she might have been more joyous with his decision.

  "I'm sorry it took the death of a child to bring this about."

  "So am I, Nate," she whispered in reply. "So am I."

  They rode the rest of the way in silence. When they reached home, he halted the team in front of her box and waited while she hopped down and searched inside. There were no urgent pleas from sick neighbors, so Vivid climbed back in the buggy and Nate drove them to her door.

  "Are you going to be all right alone?" he asked as she turned to leave the seat.

  "I believe so. There's still a few hours of daylight left, I think I'll eat and then read a bit. Maybe write my family." The last couple of nights her dreams had been filled with gaping leeches and skeletal old men. She hoped she was tired enough to sleep dreamlessly tonight.

  "Come up to the house and eat," he offered. She shook her head no. "I'll be fine here."

  He searched her eyes for a long moment, then nodded.

  She jumped down and went inside the cabin.

  The next morning, Vivid awakened to find Magic tiptoeing around inside the bedroom with a tray of covered dishes in her hands.

  "What are you doing, young lady?" Vivid asked sleepily, sitting up.

  "Aunt Gail thought you might like something you didn't have to cook yourself when you woke up."

  Vivid noted for the first time how hot the cabin seemed. There was no breeze this morning, in fact, the heat inside felt like mid-afternoon.

  "What time is it?"

  "Past noon."

  "What?"

  Vivid jumped from bed, ran to her dresser, and picked up her locket timepiece. The small heart-shaped pendant affirmed Magic's words. It was two hours past noon.

  "Pa said we were to let you sleep," Magic explained. "He said I'd be in big trouble if me or Hector woke you up. Will you tell him you woke up on your own?"

  "Yes, Magic, I will. Where's your father now?"

  "Sitting down at the road with a shotgun."

  "Why on earth for?"

  "Keep folks from bothering you."

  "People are supposed to bother me, I'm a doctor."

  "Pa says if they're not dying they can come back tomorrow. Says you need to rest."

  Vivid shook her head. She had to speak with that man.

  "Are you going to eat now?"

  "After I wash up and speak with your father, I will."

  "Well, I'll go tell Aunt Gail you're up and about. Do you need me for any chores?"

  "No, dear."

  "Then me and Hector are going hunting over at Mr. Crowley's."

  "Have a good time and be careful," Vivid called as Magic stepped out onto the porch.

  Alone again, Vivid pondered the information about Nate and his shotgun as she peeled back the large napkin covering her food. A small stack of flapjacks running with butter tempted her eyes and appetite. She felt as if she hadn't eaten in days. She ran to wash up. Nate would have to wait.

  The meal finished, Vivid took the dishes back to the house and strolled out to the road. Sure enough, there sat Nate, back against a tree, newspaper in hand. The rifle lay across his thighs.

  "What is this I hear about you scaring off my patients?" Vivid asked.

  Nate looked up at her and gave her a smile that brightened an otherwise overcast day. "Afternoon, Dr. Lazybones."

  His voice was a caress.

  "Magic told me what you're doing. You really don't need to be out here, you know."

  He shook the paper and folded it. "It's my property, I can sit where I want." He stood then and asked, "How do you feel?"

  She knew it would be a while before she could rid herself of yesterday's sad event. "I'm rested."

  Nate didn't press. He knew he could not bear her pain for her. He also knew she would not be down for long. "Want to go berry picking with me today?"

  "Berry picking? Sure."

  "You know, I'm still waiting."

  "For what?"

  "To be greeted properly."

  She smiled, remembering that they had been seeking some privacy when Sara James rode up a few days ago.

  "Do you want to be properly welcomed while we're berry picking?" she asked with sparkling eyes.

  "Maybe."

  Vivid's sadness retreated under the effects of his smile and the heat burning in his gaze. "Do I need to bring anything?"

  "Nope. Just let me go tell Aunt Gail and we'll be off."

  "Is Magic coming along?"

  "Not this time. Adam promised to keep an eye on her.''

  They were off less than an hour later.

  When they were a bit up the road, Vivid questioned the pile of items he'd loaded into the back of the wagon: lanterns, bedrolls, tarps, fishing poles. "Do we need all this for berry hunting?"

  "Where I like to berry hunt, yes, we do."

  “And where might that be?''

  "Oh, about a day's drive from here."

  Vivid's eyes widened in surprise. "A day's drive?"

  "Yep. I told Aunt Gail we'd be back in about three days."

  "Nate, I can't possibly be gone for three days."

  He simply smiled and said, "By the time I'm done berry picking with you, Lancaster, you're not going to care."

  "Such a humble man." She laughed, but the implications had her all a-quiver.

  They drove until past dark. He seemed to know where he was headed, however, so Vivid didn't worry. The lantern attached to the wagon's side lit the way for the horses, as did the added light of the glowing moon.

  "What happened to Eli's father?" Vivid asked after they'd spent a few moments chuckling over Adam Crowley and the Battle of Abigail.

  “Left her before Eli was born. The story goes that he was already married to a woman up in Muskegon at the time."

  "That's terrible."


  "I know. Aunt Gail thought he really loved her."

  "He just up and left?"

  "Miss Edna said he was after Aunt Gail's land. At the time she and my pa owned the Grove in equal shares, but according to my grandfather's will, none of the land could be sold without the approval of both."

  "And your father wouldn't agree?"

  "No. Evidently my father didn't like the man at all. He claimed to be an Oxford-educated scholar. Miss Edna said he was an overbearing windbag who thought the world revolved around his every word."

  "So where did Mr. Crowley fit into the picture?"

  "When the good Lord gave out pride, Adam was at the front of the line. The day Abigail married Eli's pa, Adam married Abigail's best friend, Meggie. Abigail moved to Detroit, then came back after the man left her."

  “If Adam loved Abigail so much, why did he let her marry another man?"

  "When the so-called Oxford scholar came into Aunt Gail's life, I don't believe Adam seriously considered him a threat. I think Adam just assumed he and Aunt Gail would marry. After all, they'd known each other all their lives. He and my pa were best friends."

  "So now here they are over thirty years later, trying to sort it all out."

  "Yep. A lot of wasted years in between."

  Vivid thought so, too, and was glad she and Nate were on their way to spending the rest of their lives together. She didn't want to squander any of the time they'd been allotted by the fates.

  Nate turned the horses off the main road and onto a narrow track that led back into the trees. "Almost there," he said.

  "There" turned out to be a small cabin standing alone in the darkness.

  Inside, Nate set the lantern on the mantel over the stone fireplace while Vivid looked around. The place was smaller than her cabin back home. It had only one room, but it was clean and dry. A big bed against the wall, a small eating table, and two chairs were the only furnishings.

  Vivid went back out into the night to help him bring in the gear from the wagon. Afterward, she dug into the big hamper of food for some dinner, while Nate saw to bedding down the animals. When he returned, they made a meal of smoked salmon and bread and a can of put-up pears.

  "What is this place?" Vivid asked.

  "Pa and Aunt Gail's old hunting cabin. Eli and I began using it once we became old enough to go hunting by ourselves. He must still be coming up here because the place is clean. I haven't been here in years."