Vivid

  He shrugged his wide shoulders. "I'm all but convinced your gender makes you unsuitable, but I may be wrong."

  "Mr. Grayson, your community needs a physician. My gender shouldn't matter."

  "If it hadn't mattered, my aunt would have mentioned it early on. She knew what she was about, believe me."

  "She knew you were prejudiced against women doctors," Vivid said.

  Nate smiled. She'd asked the barbed question so innocently, he hadn't even felt the sting of the shiv until it slid between his ribs. "Let's just say she knew you weren't the type of physician I had in mind."

  "You had a man in mind, since doctoring is a man's profession."

  "I had in mind someone less beautiful."

  Vivid blinked. "So now my features make me unsuitable?"

  "For town doctor, yes," he said.

  "Why do you believe a man would be more suitable?"

  "The weather, for one. Winters here are hard. Ever try to pull a wagon and team out of a six-foot drift?''

  Admittedly, Vivid had not. She shook her head.

  "Then there's the traveling involved," he added. "The Grove's spread out over quite a few miles."

  "Surely there are maps—"

  "More importantly, I'm not certain how people will react, especially the men. You plan on treating them also, I assume?"

  "Yes, and I agree, some men may be put off by me at first. I'm even willing to concede some won't let me near them. However, I'm confident most will come to see me for what I am—a trained and qualified physician."

  Nate wondered if she was really that naive. "Men are going to see you as trained and qualified for marriage, so the sooner your husband arrives, the better it will be."

  "I have no husband, Mr. Grayson."

  That statement seemed to increase his woes because he removed his spectacles and rubbed his eyes as if he were very weary. "No husband," he stated softly. "Good Lord."

  "I take it you consider that to be a problem as well?"

  Silence.

  He stood and looked out over the land, then cast a glance at the gray sky. By his estimation, it would be storming later and the sooner he headed back, the better. "Look, Miss Lancaster—"

  "Dr. Lancaster," she corrected.

  "Dr. Lancaster," he repeated with an apologetic inclination of his head. "It's going to storm later today. I can't just leave you here, so I'm going to take you back to the Grove. You can stay a few days and see for yourself why it isn't the place for a woman to practice."

  "Your aunt didn't think that would be the case."

  "Well, when you meet Abigail, you'll understand. In her mind, women are capable of handling anything and everything."

  "Then she is an intelligent woman."

  "Sometimes."

  Vivid said, "Well, since I've no desire to reside in the Niles depot, I'll accept your invitation, Mr. Grayson, but only if you give me a fair opportunity to try to alter your opinion."

  "I very rarely change my mind," he told her truthfully.

  Vivid looked him straight in the eye and stated, "Then it's only right to warn you—I seldom take no for an answer."

  "Somehow I already knew that," he answered. "These your things?"

  Vivid looked to where he indicated. "Yes."

  "All this?"

  Vivid nodded.

  She watched him run his gaze over her possessions. She was about to explain that most of the crates held books and medical supplies when he asked, "Where do you keep the tame animals?"

  Vivid stared back, confused.

  "There's enough stuff here for a circus," he explained.

  Vivid was insulted, but upon taking an objective look at all the items she had stacked against the depot wall, she realized she did resemble a traveling show. She smiled sheepishly. "The animals arrive tomorrow."

  He simply shook his head. "I have to fetch the buggy. Wait here."

  Vivid watched him walk away.

  Moments later, he returned driving a small horse-drawn buggy. He jumped down and walked across the tracks and gravel to where she stood waiting on the edge of the platform.

  "Are you ready?"

  Tall as he was, he loomed over her like a city building and she could only hope all Michigan men weren't as tall. "Mr. Grayson, I don't believe your buggy's going to be large enough to haul my circus."

  "I've made arrangements with the depot agent. He'll store the majority." Then, looking down at her, he added, "If you can convince me to let you stay on, you can send for the rest later."

  Vivid ignored his verbal challenge for now. She hadn't counted on being separated from her things. She'd shepherded her circus cross-country without losing even one piece, and now she was being asked to abandon it to a stranger. Suppose it did rain later? She had medical supplies in some of her crates, and they had to stay dry.

  Nate must have sensed her worries because he said, "The agent is a good man. You really don't need to be concerned."

  "He must make certain nothing gets dampened."

  "Everything will be taken care of."

  Vivid didn't want to leave her belongings behind, but she could see no other way out of her dilemma. With a small sigh, she began to search through the stacked luggage.

  "Bring whatever you think is essential," he told her.

  Vivid looked until she found the big brown valise that held some of her clothing and toiletries. She also picked out a slim black case that held another essential. She passed it to him.

  "And this is?" he asked.

  "My rifle."

  "Your what?"

  "Rifle," Vivid stated succinctly. "My mother doesn't let me or my sisters travel without one. Here, take this also."

  He took a small green case from her hand and asked, "What's in here, your bullets?"

  "No. Billiard stick."

  The answer rendered him speechless, Vivid noted with a small smile. Good. "I'm ready to depart now, Mr. Grayson."

  Vivid thought he had the oddest look on his face. It was a familiar odd look. She'd seen it on the faces of her teachers and professors back in San Francisco. She'd seen it many times on the faces of the men she beat at billiards, especially those who wagered and then lost large sums of money after playing with her. Her mother called it the look of a man meeting an unconventional woman. To break him out of his stupor, she handed him her brown valise, saying, “You wanted to beat the rain, remember?"

  He shook his head as if to clear it, then, staring at her with a shocked expression on his face, replied, "Yes, you're right. This way."

  Vivid grabbed her black medical bag and followed him back across the tracks.

  He placed her essentials behind the seat, then held out his hand to help her step into the buggy. Vivid placed her gloved hand into his palm, swept up her green skirts, and let herself be assisted aboard.

  He climbed in. Vivid hazarded a look his way and found him observing her very intently. She thought he might speak but he did not. He studied her a few moments longer, shook his head again, and turned his attention to his horses. He slapped the reins across their rumps, and the buggy lurched into motion.

  It was a humid day, and less than an hour later Vivid could feel the sweat beginning to stick to the blouse inside her jacket. The weather had been rainy when the train left Chicago last night and her suit had been just right for the temperature, but on this side of the lake the air was thick and cloying. If Vivid were traveling with a more cosmopolitan companion, she would have thought nothing of removing her jacket and letting the little breeze cool her, but she knew the men of the Midwest were far more conservative than those at home, and since she was still trying to make a good impression, she sweltered in silence.

  She still couldn't believe his attitude. She thought she'd left such narrow-minded people behind, but here one of them sat beside her, grim-faced as if he were the injured party. Had he really not been aware of signing the contract? Vivid thought not. Nate Grayson did not impress her as a gullible man.

  As they c
ontinued riding, Vivid refused to speak unless he spoke first, but after a while she couldn't keep silent because, frankly, Vivid enjoyed conversing. She also reasoned that if they talked, maybe they could learn a bit more about each other, and he might come to see that she was indeed suited to be the doctor here. “Is the weather always this warm in May?"

  "Sometimes."

  He said nothing more.

  Vivid tried another topic. “How long before we reach our destination?''

  "Two hours."

  Two hours! She wondered how on earth she'd pass the time if he refused to answer with more than two words. But even though she had to travel with a man who thought her unqualified simply because she wore skirts, she was determined to be pleasant. She'd always had an open, outgoing personality, and very few people remained distant in her presence. However, Nate Grayson seemed to be one of those immune to her natural charm. In the end she gave up trying to be polite.

  Nate decided to avoid conversation because he needed to think. He admitted to himself that he was impressed by the lady doctor despite his opinions. That she'd made the cross-country journey unaccompanied spoke of her fearlessness. In the face of the rampant progression of Jim Crow and the frightening newspaper reports of the increasing violence perpetrated against members of the race by White Leaguers, Kluxers, and the like, she'd been undeterred. Furthermore, to be a doctor in this day and age, she needed to be a woman of strength. He looked up from the road to where she sat next to him watching the trees and scenery roll by in pace with the wagon. He saw her soft smile as her eyes followed a brown hawk soaring languidly above. She seemed to take pleasure in the surroundings, which he found surprising. Yet she still looked as if she'd spend more time shopping than doctoring. And the Grove desperately needed a doctor. When Doc Miner died last year, Nate had to ask Wadsworth Hayes, a traveling doctor, to add the Grove to his circuit. Hayes was an ancient man, nearly blind, yet he was the only physician available to treat the Grove's Black population. Nate and his Aunt Abigail harbored concerns over the man's methods of bleeding his patients to restore health and questioned some of his other remedies, too. But they had no other medical expertise to call upon. If Grayson Grove were not such a small and isolated community, they would not have such a frustrating time finding a physician. But the Black men graduating from medical schools like Howard and the closer University of Michigan in Ann Arbor were seeking to establish practices in larger cities such as Boston, Philadelphia, and Richmond. Nate had written many letters, but it seemed no one wanted to practice in a place like the Grove where payment for services was more likely to be rendered in chickens and vegetables than in coin. There were also no big city amusements available unless one counted the gambling and whores at Maddie's Liberty Emporium outside town. There were no theaters, no tea houses. Only occasionally was the Grove treated to a traveling troupe of Black actors or singers. The lack of cultural offerings had been one of his ex-wife Cecile's main complaints. Dr. Lancaster reminded him of Cecile in some ways. Both women were fashionable, intelligent, and dark-hued. He supposed the memories of his traitorous ex-wife played some role in his thinking. Cecile's departure had left him with a bitter taste for city women, and decidedly wary of the doctor's commitment to stay in a place such as the Grove.

  While Nate concentrated on the dilemma the doctor presented, Vivid concentrated on the countryside. Everywhere she looked she saw green. California was green, too, but not like this. Here in Michigan the variety of shades was dazzling to behold. Even under the cloudy sky of the humid day the majesty of nature could not be denied. Along the sides of the packed-earth road were large hardy trees whose full leafy tops kissed the sky. The foliage beneath the trees was thick with ferns and tall grasses. She spotted wildflowers of many hues and heard the calls of birds and the low hum of insects against the wild silence.

  "This is beautiful country," she remarked before she remembered she wasn't speaking to him. And for the first time since they'd left the depot he looked at her, really looked at her. Vivid felt a strange sensation course through her under his silent scrutiny. As he turned back to the road, she let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

  A large patch of black-eyed susans caught her eye. She wanted to ask him to stop because the flowers were one of her favorites, but she didn't want him to think her just another frivolous female. So she fought to keep the longing from her face as the wagon passed them by.

  He surprised her by saying, "That's a beautiful stand of susans back there."

  "Yes," Vivid answered. "Quite beautiful."

  Their eyes held a moment, then his went back to the road. "Where did you get your training?" he asked.

  "In Philadelphia at the Woman's Medical College."

  "They teach only women there?"

  "Yes, since 1850."

  Vivid felt it time to let this man know where she stood. "Mr. Grayson, do you really believe only men can be physicians?"

  "Until I'm convinced otherwise, yes."

  "But you've admitted you've never seen a female doctor."

  "Nope, I haven't, and neither has anyone else around here."

  "But that's hardly a reason to be so rigid in your thinking. You don't believe I could live here as a member of your community?"

  "Not as a doctor, no."

  "Why?"

  "As long as you don't mind a truthful answer, I'll tell you."

  She nodded that she understood.

  "You have two marks against you, the main one being you're a city woman."

  "Why is that a problem?"

  "Because women like you are useless out here. You're more concerned with the price of gowns than the price of seed."

  Vivid thought that a very prejudiced and harsh statement. "I beg to differ."

  "Beg all you like," he offered easily, "but I've yet to meet a city woman able to do anything besides complain about the lack of shops and how cold it gets here around the new year."

  Vivid thought about what he'd said for a moment and then responded. "Granted, I can certainly envision a city-born person being unhappy here, after all, where we are headed does seem a bit off the beaten track. However, one must adapt to life. If one makes the effort, happiness can be found anywhere. And besides, I've spent winters in Philadelphia; surely your winters aren't any worse."

  Nate thought she displayed quite a bit of naiveté in comparing the winters in Pennsylvania to the frigid wasteland that Michigan turns into from late November to late April, but he ignored it because he was more interested in her opinions on happiness. He turned to her and asked. "Is that what you believe, Doctor, that happiness can be found anywhere?"

  "Yes, Mr. Grayson, I do."

  "Interesting philosophy. Naive, but interesting."

  "If you embrace life, Mr. Grayson, happiness will follow. And if you believe I'm naive, so be it," she added with a shrug. "It won't alter my outlook."

  He asked then, "What do your parents do?"

  "My father's a caterer and my mother oversees our home."

  "Do they approve of your occupation?"

  "They raised me and my two sisters to make our own choices, so yes, my parents approve."

  Nate could see the perspiration beading around her hairline. "You're going to die in this heat with all those clothes on, Lancaster," he noted.

  "You won't mind if I remove this jacket?"

  He shook his head.

  Relieved, Vivid removed her gloves, stuffed them into her handbag, and undid the buttons of her jacket. As she went to remove it, she looked over at Nate and found him intently watching her. Ignoring him as best she could, she removed the jacket and placed it on the seat beside her. There was hardly any breeze but she felt much cooler. "Thank you for your consideration. I'll put the jacket on when we reach our destination."

  "It's not a problem. Folks know it's hot. Nobody expects you to be bundled up like it's November."

  Vivid wanted to undo the top buttons of her high-necked blouse, but she doubted folks would be that
understanding.

  "Can you really use that rifle?" he then asked.

  "Mr. Grayson, why would I bring a rifle cross country if I couldn't use it? Don't the women here shoot?"

  "Yes, they do, but you don't look the type who would know how."

  "Mr. Grayson, every woman needs to be able to protect herself, or are you one of those men who believe the best protection for a woman is a man?"

  Nate smiled. "You said that so innocently, Lancaster. Do you always ask questions that bite?"

  "I'm a doctor and I carry a rifle, what do you think?" she asked, smiling.

  "I think you don't suffer fools real well," he replied.

  "I think you might be right," Vivid answered.

  "Why didn't you try practicing in San Francisco?"

  "I did, for about a year. But our community already has two male doctors who are well-respected. I couldn't drum up enough patients to keep my doors open. When I read your aunt's notice in the local San Francisco paper advertising for a doctor, it seemed the answer to my prayers."

  Then she remembered that he'd said there were two marks against her, and so far they'd discussed only one. "You haven't explained what my second shortcoming is."

  "I don't believe you'll stay," he said seriously. His eyes held hers. "The first time a man proposes marriage to you, you'll leave—doctoring in the Grove will be the furthest thing from your mind."

  "You're wrong, you know. I'm here to be a physician. I'm not looking for a husband."

  "Sometimes a man doesn't care what a woman is looking for, especially if he wants her for his own."

  "I don't need a husband."

  "Every woman needs a man."

  "Only a man would say that."

  He chuckled. "Ah, Dr. Lancaster, you and I are going to butt heads often, I see."

  "Does that mean you will give me a chance and let me stay?"

  "I think I've pretty much made up my mind," he said, looking her way.

  Pleased, Vivid returned her attention to the landscape.

  He finally brought the horses to a stop before a cluster of small buildings erected in a clearing surrounded by trees. The largest was a log cabin with a sign across the front which read Grayson Grove General Store. Next to the store were a few other clapboard and log buildings with signs that read Grayson Livery, Vernon the Barber, and Bates Undertaking. Next to the undertaking establishment stood a newly built cabin with a large painted sign above the door announcing the Gazette. She was pleased to see the town had its own newspaper. She counted nine buildings of varying age and construction. Up the dirt road stood some type of mill in front of which men sat atop large wagons filled with cut trees. She guessed that this was the end of the journey, but Grayson gave her no indication either way. He simply got out, tied up the horses, and walked into the store. As his broad back disappeared inside, she prayed to the saints above to give her strength.