"Your father and I cried like we'd never cried before," her mother said. "He covered you with the shirt from his back and brought you up here to his room. Your papa smeared your arms and hands with the insides of every aloe plant he'd brought with him, and then Abigail and I wrapped your hands, and here you are."
Her father kept aloe because burns were part of his profession. Since he invariably wound up cooking wherever he went, he didn't travel without it. "I want to see Papa and Nate."
"In that order?"
Vivid nodded with a smile.
Her mother left to bring in her father and Vivid thought back to the fire. Who hated her so much that they wanted her to burn alive? The question was still echoing in her mind when her father stuck his gray head in the door.
"Papa!" she rasped happily. He came over to the bed and hugged her as fiercely as her singed skin would allow.
She began to cough from the exertion but he waited patiently until she recovered. He said, "You turned every hair on my head gray with that stunt, girlie. Your papa is getting too old for this."
Then his face and voice turned serious, "Did your mother tell you it was arson?"
She nodded.
"Well, when I get my hands on whoever is responsible they'll know how I feel about someone trying to turn my youngest into a burned Saratoga chip!"
Saratoga chips, or potato chips as some folks called them, had been first introduced by a Black chef up in Saratoga Springs, New York.
"Well, they didn't succeed. But I can't fathom someone wanting me to die such an awful death."
"Everyone feels that way."
She suffered through another coughing fit before asking, "How's Nate, Papa?"
"Doing better now that he knows you're alive. When we thought we'd lost you...his grief rivaled mine." Joseph Lancaster paused a moment and gazed lovingly at his youngest daughter. "He's a good man, Vivid. A good, decent man. I'll be proud to call him my son."
"Thank you, Papa. I think he's very special, too."
Joseph bent and kissed her brow. "Rest now, I'll send Nate and your mother up."
When Nate walked through the door moments later, she began to cry silently. Seeing him made her so incredibly happy, she wanted to run to him and have him hold her tight.
Nate asked softly, "Are you crying, Lancaster?"
She answered tearfully, "Yes, Nate, I am."
Nate sat on the bed. He leaned over and brushed his lips against hers softly, "I thought I'd lost you, princess," he whispered. He'd only meant to kiss her lightly, then pull back, but the taste of her, alive and breathing, made him linger and want more. She wanted more, too, because death had almost claimed her and she hungered for the sensations that helped reaffirm her life. "I just want to look at you. Even with no brows and lashes you're as beautiful as the moon rising."
"What?" She immediately brought her hands up to feel her face but it was a useless gesture because she was bandaged. "Nate, get me that hand mirror on the vanity."
"No," he said chuckling softly. "This first..."
They shared heated, almost desperate kisses. He instinctively lifted her to his chest, careful not to injure her, but he needed her near. She needed him also and cried sparkling tears of joy as she kissed him in return and ran her bandaged hands up and down his back.
He broke the kiss and just held her tight, tight enough for Vivid to feel the burns on her back sting, but she didn't care. She was in his arms.
A soft knock on the door made them part reluctantly. Nate was standing politely at the bedside when Francesca entered, saying softly, "You should go now, Nate, she needs to sleep."
Nate looked down at her lying so vivid yet so fragile amid the bedding and wanted to climb in and hold her while she slept. "Rest up, princess."
Vivid didn't want him to go. "Will you come back and see me in the morning?"
"If your duenna gives permission."
Nate looked over at Francesca, and she smiled. "We'll see what can be arranged."
Vivid said softly, "Good night, Nate."
"Good night, brave princess."
That night Vivid was awakened by a severe throbbing pain in her hands. Anna Red Bird, who had stayed on to make sure Vivid would recover, brought up some willow bark tea for her to drink. A short time later, the fiery pain began to subside and Vivid went back to sleep.
Nate was allowed to help Vivid with her breakfast each morning. Her hands were still bandaged, though not as heavily.
The first morning he'd come in to assist, the meal had consisted of her favorite, hot oatmeal sweetened with maple syrup, butter, and sweet cream. He'd also brought her toast and tea. Vivid was ravenous and told Nate so, but her mother, seated across the room reading the Grayson Gazette, instructed Nate to feed her at a slow pace.
So he did. Nate slowly teased the tip of the first spoonful across her lips, then whispered, "Open for me, princess..."
The words were spoken so heatedly, and conjured up such sensual memories, Vivid felt herself flush with a familiar warmth. As he held her captive with his blazing eyes, she opened her mouth and the spoon slid in gently. Her lips closed and he glided the spoon out again.
He spooned up more and repeated each step: first the brush with the spoon, then the heated invitation, then in and—ever so slowly—out.
Her senses were spiraling in response by the time he'd coaxed her to eat a few spoonfuls.
Vivid was certain her mother had not counted on the meal turning into such an erotic exercise, and neither had Vivid.
Just about then, he slowly tore off a small piece of the toast. She watched him dip the bread gently into the sweet cereal and heard him say, "I know you like to dunk your toast...so here..."
Vivid took the offered morsel, then slid her tongue against his finger before he drew back.
His eyes flared in response to her play, and she whispered sensually, "You started this."
"I'm simply feeding you, nothing more."
For the next few days Nate fed Vivid her breakfast and fed her senses with his eyes and his voice. Were it not for her mama's presence, Vivid was certain she and the Thunder God would have wound up sharing the big canopied bed. With just a simple look he had the power to make her nipples harden and call to him from beneath her gown; make her lips part for the kisses he promised she'd receive once she was well enough. One morning as he fed her the most erotic stack of flapjacks with maple syrup she'd ever consumed, he described in a hushed voice the many ways he planned on loving her when she healed. Every morning when he walked into her room, her breakfast tray in hand, her desire awakened and flowed.
Vivid declared herself well a few days later. She told herself Nate's teasing had not entered into her decision—after all, she had recovered and was especially tired of being in bed—but Nate's eyes burned in her memory as she got up to get dressed.
Her hands no longer needed the dressing, but it would be a while before they were fully healed. Her palms had sustained most of the damage but faithfully, twice a day, she rubbed cocoa butter on them to help speed the process. The cocoa butter had been sent over by Miss Edna. Francesca had purchased every tin in the store.
She couldn't put on her stockings, however, or button her skirt or blouse. That problem was solved by Magic and Satin, who'd been visiting off and on for the past few days. When she asked for their assistance with her buttons and stockings, they helped eagerly, even as Magic asked, "Did they say you could get up today?"
"No, but I'm the doctor, right?"
"Right," Magic agreed.
When they were finished Satin looked up and said, "We're awful glad you didn't bum up, Dr. Lancaster."
She kissed each girl on her brow and said, "Me, too."
The Grayson front parlor was filled with people when she got downstairs, and at her entrance, the room erupted into cheers. She saw Abigail and Adam, Anna and her son Isaac, Nate, Eli, her parents, and Maddie.
Someone moved so Vivid could have a seat on the settee, and when she was s
ettled in she said, “I want to thank everyone for all you've done. If I had to be burned out of my home, I couldn't've had it happen in a better place."
That brought on a few chuckles and many smiles.
Vivid then asked about the search for the arsonist.
"We have nothing but this, so far. We assume it's his."
Nate held up a tattered red flannel shirt. Even after a week it still reeked strongly of kerosene.
"Or hers," Maddie pointed out.
"The shirt is pretty saturated on the front," Joseph said. "Maybe the arsonist accidentally sloshed a good bit of it on himself and then took it off as a precaution before setting the fire."
Everyone else had already agreed that Joseph's conclusion seemed logical and Vivid deemed the theory sound as well.
"But who would do this?" Magic asked. "And why?"
Magic and Satin had been so quiet, no one had even noticed them come in. Nate turned to his daughter and said softly, "Majestic, this is not a conversation for little ears, so why don't you and Satin go outside and play."
"But Pa, we want to help, too."
"I know you do, darling, but I don't want you or Satin poking around. The person that tried to hurt Viveca is very dangerous."
Magic glanced over at Vivid, who said, “Your father is right, Magic. I gave everyone a bad enough scare. We don't want anyone else hurt."
"Okay," she said, obviously against her better judgment.
Nate turned his attention to Satin. "Satin, I want your promise, too, no poking around."
She hesitated just as her sister had done, then gave a weak, "Okay, Uncle Nate," in reply.
He kissed them both and sent them on their way.
"Did anyone believe that performance?" he asked after their departure.
Laughter filled the room.
Vivid spoke up when the humor faded, "I do hope they'll take us seriously though."
Her mother snorted and said, “And this from La Brat Trabrasera herself. May your father and I live long enough to see your hair grayed by a child like you. She lived in a tree house for nearly two years. She'd come home some days looking like she'd been raised by bears."
Nate almost fell off his chair laughing.
Vivid took mock offense. "Mama! Nate Grayson, stop laughing."
Vivid looked over at her father. He said, “Vivid, you know good and well your mother is telling the truth. The day you were born I held you in my arms and looked down into your bright eyes, and you winked up at me big as day. I told your mama then and there, this one is going to be real different from the other two."
More laughter followed that remark and Vivid said, "Papa, new babies can't wink."
"That's what the doctor said at the time, but I know what I saw."
That afternoon, Vivid took a slow walk through her burned-out cabin. The flames had consumed everything from books to instruments. Only a few charred and blackened logs still stood to announce that there had once been walls. All the carefully documented medical histories she'd compiled on her neighbors, months of work, gone because some unknown person wanted to roast her like a piece of corn. In the back she found only the chains from her swing and the burned-out hulk of her brand-new stove. She hunkered down and fished the chains out of the ashes and debris. As she peered at it sadly she sensed Nate standing behind her. She stood and looked over what had been her life.
"I'll put up another swing in the spring," he promised quietly.
She would miss the swing very much, but the question kept echoing in her head, Who would do this? Aloud she asked, "What have I done to make someone hate me this much?"
Nate had no answer. She turned away from the cabin and let him escort her back to the house.
Anna Red Bird and her son had departed earlier that afternoon. Eli and Maddie took their places at the dinner table.
After the meal, Vivid's parents excused themselves to their rooms. It had been a long day for the recently recovered Vivid so she, too, excused herself.
Alone in Nate's room, Vivid realized she needed help with her buttons. She went to her parents' room and knocked on the door, "Mama?"
She heard scurrying and laughter inside and then silence, then laughter again. Then silence again, followed moments later by her mother calling, "Just a minute, Viveca."
Then she heard her mother say with a laugh, "Viveca, darling, unless the house is on fire, you'll have to come back later. Your father—"
"Go away, girl!" she heard her father shout. "Your mother and I are busy!"
She took the hint and went back to her room wearing a stunned smile.
Inside again, she lay down fully dressed and drifted off to sleep.
Around midnight, Vivid awakened feeling as if she were bound up in a sack. She got up and tried to figure out how to undo her buttons. Her fingertips were still too tender to accomplish such a delicate task and she had to give up. She sighed with frustration and began to look around Nate's room for a razor or a pair of shears. Maybe she could cut herself out. She found nothing.
The house was quiet as Vivid noiselessly made her way down to the kitchen. She knew Abigail kept shears in a drawer there. Surely she'd be able to handle a pair of shears long enough to snip away the buttons of her blouse and skirt. She could always sew them back later.
She made her way through the dark house with the aid of the moonlight streaming in from the curtains. She paused a moment when she saw the thin line of light beneath the door of Nate's study. Quietly, Vivid placed her ear against the door to make certain she wouldn't be interrupting anything. Silence. She knocked softly.
Nate opened the door, surprised to see her on the other side. He looked behind her, then hustled her in, hastily closing the door again.
"What's wrong?" Vivid laughed.
"Don't want your duenna to find us."
"You'd better put out the lights then."
"Good idea."
His comment drew Vivid's eyes to the lighted lamps and she wondered how long it would be before she stopped shuddering at the sight of a flame. She turned away until all the lamps had been extinguished. In the darkness Vivid relaxed a bit.
He opened the drapes to let in the moonlight. "How's that?" he asked.
"Nice," she whispered.
"Come sit with me then," he offered, gesturing to the small loveseat beneath the big bay window. Nate sat beside her, eased her onto his lap, and pulled her close. "Perfect," he declared.
And to Nate, for this period of time, things were just that: perfect. He never thought he'd hold her again after the terrible fire. The despair he felt when he first saw the cabin ablaze echoed within him still. He hoped it would be the last time he'd experience such wrenching helplessness. She'd survived, however, and because of that he could continue to bask in her smile and watch her stride confidently into a room. He could hear her laugh and see her tears, and rid himself of wondering how he would spend the rest of his life without her love, as he'd done that awful night. The emotions flared again and he gently pulled her close to stop the ache that came with the memories. He whispered against her hair, "What are you doing up so late?"
"I was on my way to the kitchen for Abigail's shears. I can't undo my buttons because my fingertips are too tender to work the holes."
He leaned back to peer down into her face. "Oh, really? Then basically you're at my mercy, is that correct?"
"Basically, correct," she agreed, looking up at him.
"Well, we'll take care of your buttons later. Tell me how you're feeling."
"I'm recovering, I guess. Feels good having you hold me again, though. Very good."
"I've missed you, too."
For a moment they sat in the moonlight, content just being together.
Vivid said, "You and Eli seem to be working out your differences. It's good to see the two of you friends."
He kissed her forehead. "We're making progress."
"It will take weeks, maybe months to restock my medicines and instruments. We can only pray a
n epidemic or something serious doesn't occur in the meantime."
"I wouldn't worry. The day after we found you, your mama began wiring the doctors over at the college in Ann Arbor about what she needed to buy to get your practice back on its feet. I suppose they wired her back, because she spent that whole next day over in Niles wiring folks in Chicago, Philadelphia, Boston, you name it, placing orders."
"Really? You said she did all this the day after you found me in the tunnel? I don't remember her being gone for a long period of time.''
"That's because you were asleep. You slept for a good three days."
He must have felt her shock. "Your father and I sat with you on the first day while Vernon took her to Niles."
"Three days?"
"You were drifting in and out, but yes, three days."
"It didn't feel as if that much time passed."
"Well, it did."
"Thanks for finding me."
He whispered in response. "Thanks for being alive."
Then she heard him say, "Now, what do you have to barter in exchange for this help you need?"
"I have kisses," she stated, her voice a quiet invitation.
He ran a long finger over her succulent mouth and replied, "As I remember, they are quite sweet, but it's been such a long time, I may need to sample a few to see if they are valuable enough to offer as exchange."
"I think you will find them priceless..."
He brought his mouth down to hers and found her welcoming kisses not only priceless but as sweetly fervent as ever. He teased her parted lips with his tongue, nibbled her with his teeth, and when he'd sampled enough, he reluctantly drew away.
Nate removed his spectacles and placed them on the windowsill behind him. In a voice as velvety as the shadows he requested, "Sit up a moment, princess."
Vivid rose to her knees on the settee between his spread thighs, and he began to undo the buttons on her blouse. She kissed his mouth and he paused to enjoy the treat. It had been such a long time since they'd had the opportunity to enjoy their passion, each wanted to savor the other slowly and without haste.
He spread open her blouse, then dropped his head to flick the tip of his tongue against the hollow of her throat. Her head dropped back under his fiery advance across the skin and she placed her slender brown hands upon his broad shoulders for support. She shivered in response as his hands cupped her breasts and raised the camisole-covered tips to his lips, then her body arched as he kissed her breasts until the fabric was damp and a moan slid from her lips. Before she could catch her breath he slid one breast free of the bodice, then boldly suckled the peak. He bared the other and to her delight pleasured it in the same wanton way.