Vivid

  Vivid put on her jacket, stepped out of the buggy and followed Nate. She entered the store just as someone inside asked, "Where's the new doc, Nate?"

  At her entrance the place grew silent. Nate looked back over his shoulder at her and said, "She says she is."

  Vivid's eyes narrowed at his mocking tone and assessing eyes, but she stood silent as the small group of people in the store craned to get a good look at her.

  "Why, she's a woman," a man said with a gasp.

  "I'm Dr. Viveca Lancaster," she said in introduction. Silence followed—a reaction she'd become accustomed to whenever she announced her profession, but this time she was unnerved because she couldn't determine if the men and women watching her approved or disapproved of her.

  One of the men in the back finally asked, "She staying, Nate?"

  "Nope," he replied easily.

  Vivid's eyes widened at that announcement. "I beg your pardon?"

  "You're not staying. Next train back to Chicago is due in a couple of days. You'll be on it."

  "But I thought you—why?"

  He didn't respond. Instead he spoke to one of the women behind the counter. "Edna, she can stay with you until then, just send me a bill."

  He gave Vivid a brief nod as he passed her on his way out the door.

  Dazed from this sudden turn of events, Vivid turned to Edna and asked, "Does he really have the authority to send me back without his aunt's say-so?"

  Edna nodded. "I'm afraid he does, dear."

  Vivid let fly a very distinct curse and went after him. She hoped the saints noted how patient she'd been because she'd had just about enough. She thought an agreement had been worked out between them, so why had he suddenly changed his mind? He'd vowed to give her a chance!

  She looked left, then right until she spotted him. She quickened her pace, snatching open buttons on her jacket as she went. She felt betrayed. She was hot, tired, and frustrated. If he planned on sending her home, she'd go, but she wouldn't go quietly.

  She paid absolutely no attention to the people who'd trailed her from the store or to the farmers who stopped and stared curiously.

  "Are you that pig-headed and prejudiced that you would deny people a doctor?!" Vivid shouted at his back.

  He stopped and turned.

  "Yes, I'm talking to you," Vivid yelled. "Who in Jessy do you think you are?" She ran down the wooden walk until she was close enough to confront him face to face.

  Nate couldn't believe his eyes or his ears. He was being accosted in the middle of the street, in his own town, by a black-eyed little susan who obviously had no idea what she was about.

  "Mr. Grayson, you promised me the time to convince you."

  "Don't need the time. You won't do."

  "But that is not fair."

  "Lancaster, I have the health of three hundred people to take into consideration and I've made up my mind."

  Nate had thought this through and he was not convinced that this woman was right for his town. She was a female for one, and a young female to boot. He simply did not believe she would stay longer than a few months and he didn't want to have the people come to rely on her and then have her walk out on them.

  "Mr. Grayson, I insist we talk about this," Vivid stated, trying to keep up with his long-legged stride.

  He didn't slow his pace or look at her as he answered, "No. Now go on back to the store, and Edna will show you where you can stay until the next train comes through."

  Vivid stopped, totally outdone. What had happened to change his mind? she asked herself. She wondered if maybe he was suffering from some sort of mind derangement. It was as if the invitation he'd extended back at the depot had never been given. "Mr. Grayson!"

  He continued walking away from her.

  "Mr. Grayson!" Vivid yelled again. When he ignored her again and again, Vivid put away all sense of good manners. She looked around for something, anything to make him stop and talk to her. She spied a farmer tying up his team-drawn wagon to a post near where she stood. On the seat of the big wagon lay a rifle. Vivid walked over to the man and demanded, "I need to borrow your rifle, sir."

  The farmer seemed so surprised by her authoritative manner he handed it over without a word. Vivid quickly checked the shells, closed the chamber, sighted, and fired.

  The first shot blew her target's hat off his head and sent it flying into the dust. She handed the wide-eyed farmer back his weapon, smiled politely, and waited for Nate to come to her.

  She didn't have to wait long.

  He very gently but firmly grabbed her by the upper arm, turned to the small gaping crowd, growled a very polite "Excuse us" to them, and escorted Vivid across the street and into a low-roofed log building. Once inside, he released her and closed the door. Then in a soft voice belying his anger he said, "You're not a doctor, you're a menace."

  Vivid realized her actions had been a trifle extreme but she'd had no other choice. "If I had a white flag, I'd raise it," she offered.

  His expression didn't change.

  "I'm sorry about your hat, but if you hadn't lied to me I wouldn't have lost my temper."

  Nate had no idea what to do with this woman. "Do you do that often?" he asked.

  "Lose my temper?"

  "No, shoot at people."

  Vivid looked down at her shoes a moment, then back up to his stormy eyes. "No."

  "Well, that's something," he stated. Nate noted that her suddenly meek manner reminded him very much of his nine-year old daughter, Majestic. Magic, as she was usually called, was forever in trouble of one sort or another, and when chastised she also played apologetic and meek. However, Majestic didn't have a meek bone anywhere in her body and Nate didn't believe this hat-shooting Dr. Viveca Lancaster had one, either.

  "You really do owe me an explanation, Mr. Grayson," Vivid said, wondering meantime if he planned on taking her back to the depot immediately or first thing tomorrow morning.

  "I owe you?" Nate replied in disbelief. "You shot my hat off in the middle of the damned street, woman."

  “I will pay for the hat, Mr. Grayson. But you impress me as being an intelligent man; why won't you give me a chance? And don't tell me any manure about it being because I don't have buttons down the front of my drawers like a man."

  Nate eyed her. Impressed by her challenging manner he shook his head in wonder. "Are you always so forceful?"

  "It's a necessary trait for someone like me."

  Before Nate could speak further the black-garbed Widow Moss came charging into his office towing his daughter, Majestic.

  Chapter 3

  He sighed. "Hello, Widow Moss. Is there a problem?"

  He knew that was an asinine question; neither his daughter nor the widow looked pleased. The widow's face had been set in a permanent frown since the day he'd hired her to be Magic's governess. Nate thought that the woman would be able to offer the child badly needed lessons in deportment. However, Magic, operating under no such misconception, had disliked the widow woman on sight. And the situation had not mellowed over time.

  "Who's she, Pa?" the girl asked, gazing at Vivid.

  Nate wanted to reply, "She's a menace posing as a doctor," but said instead, "She's a doctor. Dr. Viveca Lancaster, my daughter, Majestic Grayson. Dr. Lancaster, the Widow Moss."

  All three females nodded politely to one another, then Nate turned his attention back to the matter at hand and asked, "What's happened?"

  As usual, Magic opened her mouth to tell her side first, but one glance from her father's dark eyes and she closed it.

  The black-dressed widow gave Magic a smug look, then spoke. "Mr. Grayson, I have tried and tried to exercise some influence over this child's behavior but I cannot any longer. She absolutely refuses to cooperate."

  "Pa, I hate sewing."

  The widow leaned down to look the young girl straight in the eye and related sharply, "You liked it well enough last night when you sewed my drawers together!"

  Nate hid his laugh with a faked cou
ghing fit.

  Vivid was not so fortunate. The widow's statement caught her so off-guard the laugh bubbled out before she could choke it back. The breach of manners garnered her a stern look from Widow Moss and one of surprise from the child. When the widow turned back to Nate, Vivid took the opportunity to wink at the little girl, who responded with a beaming smile.

  The sour-faced widow continued, "I won't be working for you any longer, Mr. Grayson. This child has put snakes in my bed and rotten eggs in my bonnets, and I refuse to even think about that nasty incident with my shoes and the cow manure."

  Nate didn't want to think about that, either. One morning about a month ago, Widow Moss had stepped into her shoes only to discover them already occupied. He'd given Magic a good old-fashioned licking for that prank and she hadn't been able to sit for a week. Only after she'd gone to bed did he laugh until tears ran down his cheeks. Truthfully, he didn't like the widow any more than his daughter did.

  Vivid didn't know the prune-faced old crone well enough to form an accurate opinion, but she did like the little girl. Cow manure in the woman's shoes! Outstanding. Vivid wished she'd had that type of nerve at that age, although she did remember standing on the ornate balcony of her great aunt's house in Mexico City and surreptitiously dropping small spiders down onto the heads of the dinner guests below. She could still feel the sting of that whipping to this day. Had Majestic suffered a similar fate? Vivid guessed she probably had, but that would only deter her until the next time. Vivid's partner-in-crime had been her late grandmother Maria, founder of the Female Plotting Rebelling Society. Grandmother Maria believed that all females, regardless of age, race, or circumstances, should always be plotting rebellion to better the state of women. Vivid had been raised as a practicing co-conspirator. And the little girl at the center of attention here looked to be a prime recruit.

  "Magic, what do you have to say for yourself?" Nate asked after hearing the litany of sins from the Widow Moss.

  "She can eat her old bonnet. I don't want to be a lady."

  "Do you see, Mr. Grayson? No manners, no politeness, and no desire to be any better."

  "Apologize, Magic. Now."

  The girl did, grudgingly.

  The Widow Moss did not appear mollified. "Mr. Grayson, no amount of washing or deportment lessons will rid her of her bastard beginnings. She would try Christ himself."

  Vivid watched the youngster's shoulders tense under the slur and waited for Grayson to respond. "Widow, I'd advise you to keep such thoughts to yourself. Magic had no say in her birth."

  "Excuse me, ma'am," Vivid interrupted frostily. "Are you a Christian woman?"

  The black-bonneted head turned and nodded. From the look on the widow's face, she obviously had not forgiven Vivid for laughing earlier. "Of course. I attend church every Sunday."

  "Then maybe you can help me. There's a passage from the Bible that begins, let's see, I think it reads, 'Suffer the little children to come unto me...' I can't seem to remember the rest. Are you familiar with that passage?"

  Vivid watched the woman's whole body tighten as if it had been dipped in alum. The widow obviously knew the rest of the verse. "So," Vivid continued, "in light of that, do you really believe the good Lord would turn His back on this child?"

  The widow had no place to hide from Vivid's icy calm. "No," she finally answered.

  "Spoken like a true Christian. I'm a regular churchgoer myself. What time are Sunday services?"

  "Eleven."

  "Thank you. I hope to see you there."

  To Nate, the Widow Moss looked as if she hoped no such thing. He also didn't believe he'd be able to convince her to stay on in his employ. After the cow manure surprise, only Magic's sincere promise that the pranks would stop, and an increase in pay, kept the widow from quitting on the spot. Now, after the chastisement from Lancaster, there was not enough money in Michigan that would make the woman stay.

  Vivid realized she'd probably made an enemy of the widow but she didn't care. She walked over to Grayson's daughter and asked in a soft voice, "Majestic, since I'm new here, may I count on you to be my first friend?"

  "Oh, yes!"

  Vivid smiled. "Good. When I get settled maybe your father will let you come visit me?"

  Nate hated to see these two get together as he had no doubts his daughter's behavior would only deteriorate under the influence of the unconventional Viveca Lancaster, so he said instead, "We'll see, Magic. We still have to settle this matter with Widow Moss."

  "I've already settled the matter, Mr. Grayson," the old woman countered. "You will have to find someone else to take over as governess. I refuse to do it any longer."

  Nate sighed. "Well, I'm sure there's nothing I can say to convince you otherwise, so I thank you for your help. Send my the bill for your...drawers, and stop by the bank and tell Joshua to give you a month's extra pay."

  "Thank you, Mr. Grayson."

  She turned, blessed both Vivid and Magic with acerbic looks, and walked out.

  "What happened to your hat, Pa?" Magic asked, picking it up from where he'd tossed it on the desk. She stuck two small brown fingers through the hole and wiggled them. "Looks like it's been shot to death."

  "Accident," her father explained. He took the hat from her, saying, "Why don't you go over to the store and see if there're any new newspapers? Aunt Gail should be back by the time we get home, and she'll be glad if we bring her one."

  "Okay, Pa." The beautiful little girl with her pigtails and topaz eyes then turned to Vivid. "I'll come visit when Pa says I can, okay?"

  "That'll be fine," Vivid replied.

  Magic ran out.

  "Walk!" her father called belatedly.

  "You have a lovely daughter, Mr. Grayson."

  "Thank you, but she's a tornado sometimes."

  Vivid watched him walk to the desk and lean over to retrieve some papers. "Would you approve of her being the doctor here?" she asked.

  Nate looked her in the eye, surveyed her a moment, then replied, "My daughter grew up here. She won't run the first time we get a half-foot of snow."

  "And I will?"

  "I believe so, yes."

  Vivid shook her head at his stubbornness. "How does your wife feel about female doctors?"

  "I don't have a wife. It's just me, Abigail, and my daughter."

  Vivid wondered if he was a widower.

  Her eyes settled on his hat. "I'll pay for the hat," she offered again.

  "Save your money. You'll need it for the ticket home."

  “Mr. Grayson, I am not going home. I have a signed contract."

  "Since I don't remember signing it, how much legitimacy can it have?"

  "The papers, which you signed, were drawn up by my cousin Alejandro, who can stand before the bar not only in these United States but in Mexico and Spain as well. He gets very offended when someone questions the integrity of his documents."

  "So?"

  "And so, unless you wish me to bring legal charges against you, I expect you to honor the contract you signed."

  Nate looked at the sparkling challenge in her eyes. "You are going back, Lancaster."

  "Not quietly I won't."

  "No?" he asked.

  "No."

  Nate sighed and walked over to the window. A glance outside showed him that a small crowd had gathered, peering in to observe the proceedings. He pulled the curtains closed.

  "Okay. Since you are so hell-bent on having this job, it's yours."

  Vivid smiled in triumph.

  He walked back to the desk, "Don't look so pleased; this is only a trial—"

  Vivid protested, "The contract states—"

  "I read it. But if I conclude you're really not qualified, you're out on your bustle, contract or not. I'll take my chances with your cousin Alejandro and the courts. Things being the way they are for the race these days, we'd be lucky to get inside a courthouse."

  She knew he was right, but since Vivid also knew she was the best damned doctor these people h
ad ever seen, she saw no problem in accepting the modified agreement. “Fair enough, but why did you change your mind?''

  He leaned back on the edge of the desk, folded his arms across his chest, and replied in a pleased tone, "Because this way I can win the war without firing a shot."

  Her eyes narrowed in confusion. "I don't understand."

  "My aunt and her very formidable minions would hound my backside to the grave if I simply sent you home without giving you a chance. But if I sit back and wait for you to fall flat on that perfect little...face of yours, I can say I told you so."

  "Your support is duly noted," Vivid drawled and then added, "Do you prefer your crow hot or cold, because when I serve it, I'll need to know."

  He smiled.

  Further discussion was set aside when Magic returned with a strange man, about the same age as Nate. He nodded politely to Vivid, and she smiled.

  "Well, Nate, everybody wants to know, she staying?"

  Nate looked over her way. "Yes, Vernon, she's staying."

  Vivid smiled triumphantly in return, then heard Nate tell the man, "When you go to the depot tomorrow, Vernon, pick up her trunks."

  The man nodded, then asked Vivid, "Where do you want us to take them when we get back, Doc?"

  Vivid didn't have the slightest idea and she looked to Grayson for an answer. Magic spoke first, as usual. "Shouldn't she live where Doc Miner lived, Pa?"