Vivid (17 page)

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."

Nate sighed with frustration. He could
count on one hand the number of times he'd been driven anywhere by a female.

Vivid looked down at him and said, "I
assume driving is a man's job, too?" He didn't reply, but the answer was
evident She shook her head. "Mr. Grayson, if I could concoct a cure for
misguided male thinking, I would be a very wealthy woman indeed. Are you coming
or not?''

He smiled inwardly, went around to the
passenger side, and climbed in.

Vivid gently slapped the reins, and they
were off.

"So," she said, "I know now
to take the left fork instead of the right. What else should I know?''

He began to point out landmarks. Unlike
the big cities where markers were usually shops or streets or buildings, here
they were distinctively shaped trees, flowing streams, or the lay of the land.

He asked her at one point, "Do you
see that big willow over there?"

Vivid eased the buggy to a halt, then
looked where he pointed. The tree seemed to be miles away, across the rolling
clearing, yet its hanging branches made it distinctly visible.

"That's Adam Crowley's land. The fork
you took back there leads to his place. He's about three miles from us. If
you're ever out admiring the scenery again on that portion of the Grove, that
willow should be your beacon."

She ignored his sarcastic allusion, but
filed the willow information into her memory.

She started the buggy again and Nate
admired the way she handled it. "Your driving is not bad."

Vivid turned to him and asked, "Is
that a compliment, Mr. Grayson?"

"I believe it is."

"Two pleasantries in one day. Will my
constitution be able to handle such shock?''

He had to glance away or fall prey to her
sparkling eyes. "Just drive, Lancaster."

I
n her dreams Vivid felt someone shaking her roughly. She didn't
want to be roused but the jostling by the strong hand was insistent enough to
make her grudgingly open her eyes and realize she wasn't dreaming at all. She was
startled by a man looming over her in the darkness. He was bearded and as big
as a bear with the rifle in his hand glistening in the moonlight bathing her
room. She sat up slowly as she heard him ask, "Are you the lady
doctor?"

"Yes," Vivid answered nervously.

"My pa says I'm to bring you—at
gunpoint if necessary."

"That won't be necessary," she
told him, eyeing the long-nosed weapon. "If someone's been hurt, just let
me get dressed and we can go."

He eased his rifle down and Vivid
cautiously slid off the bed and asked him to wait outside, hoping the man would
be reasonable.

He nodded, then added, "No tricks
now. Hate to have to truss you up."

"No tricks," Vivid assured him.
"It would help to know who needs my help and why."

"It's our Jewel, she's real sick. We
can't wake her up." He stepped out of the bedroom and closed the door,
leaving Vivid the privacy she needed to dress and gather her medical supplies.

When they were ready to depart, her escort
mounted
a big gray stallion,
then pulled her up behind. "Put your arms around my waist and hold on
tight, Doctor. Don't want you falling off."

Under the eerie illumination of the
night's full moon, they galloped away. Vivid glanced toward the dark Grayson
house as they raced past. It came to her that maybe she should have left a note
about her whereabouts but it was too late, and besides, she had no idea of her
destination.

The giant's advice to hold on tight proved
sound indeed. He took her on one of the wildest rides of her life. For the
first few moments she tried to peer around his big frame to survey the terrain
ahead, but the trees and branches were rushing by so perilously close, she
pulled back and swallowed her fears. The horse beneath her seemed surefooted
and strong, the man controlling the reins competent. She had no choice but to
hang on and pray that they arrived without mishap.

The mad flight through the night ended a
few miles away from Vivid's cabin, and she sighed with relief when the giant
helped her dismount. She followed him to a beautiful house even larger than the
Graysons', with gables and cornices and trellises.

However, the stench inside was arresting,
gagging. Instinctively, Vivid brought a hand up to shield her nose.

"No one's cleaned the place since
Jewel took sick," her escort explained. "We've become accustomed to
the smell, I guess."

He led Vivid through a kitchen that hadn't
been cleaned in quite some time. China, cutlery, and cooking pots were stacked
almost to the ceiling on a large table in the room's center. A smaller stack
occupied the top of the cooking stove. In one corner a churn had been knocked
over and the contents left spread across the wooden floor. Vivid stepped
cautiously over the putrid puddle and kept her eyes focused on his back to
avoid seeing any more of the kitchen's wondrous sights.

The hallway off the kitchen led into a
parlor. There, amid the beautiful framed paintings of animals and birds gracing
the walls, dirty laundry reigned. Articles of clothing, enough to stock an army
regiment, lay in piles everywhere. Trousers, union suits, shirts, and socks hid
what appeared to be fine furniture.

"Jewel usually takes care of the
washing, too," the man said as they crossed the parlor and headed up a
flight of stairs, but Vivid was only half-listening. She couldn't decide which
part of herself, the doctor or the woman, was more appalled at the house's
state. The place was as filthy as a sty.

Upstairs, conditions were no better. It
was a wonder that every person in the household hadn't succumbed to some sort
of sickness, Vivid thought, feeling the beginnings of anger take hold. Her
escort was a big strong man; why in the world hadn't he bothered to clean the
place instead of waiting for poor Jewel to get better?

In the hallway they walked through she had
to sidestep piles of sheets, pillowslips, coverlets, and blankets stacked
against the walls in mounds as high as Vivid's waist. The farther she walked,
the more determined she became to hold her tongue until after she'd seen the
patient. After she took care of Jewel, she would blister this man's hide for
living in such squalor.

He opened a door at the end of the hall
and Vivid followed him in. Five men were positioned protectively around a bed
upon which a woman lay.

The five were as big as the man at Vivid's
side, and all were similar enough in appearance for her to assume they were
related to one another. An older man stepped forward; he was even larger than
the others because age had added to his girth. He critically assessed Vivid for
a moment, then stated, "This is the new doctor? Why, she's no older than
our Jewel."

"I know, sir, but I got her here as
soon as I could."

"You did fine, son."

The older man then turned his attention to
Vivid. “Young woman, I am Adam Crowley, and these are my sons, Noah, Abraham,
Ezekial, and Jeremiah, and you met Paul."

The men, all of various ages, greeted her
politely, and Vivid nodded in turn.

Mr. Crowley continued, "As you've
probably heard, I'm against you being here. The wilds of Michigan are no place
for a cotillion girl."

Vivid raised an eyebrow at that tart
remark, but remained silent.

“However, since you are the only physician
available, you will have to do."

Vivid wondered if he was always this
brusque. She found Abigail's description of Mr. Crowley as having a wooden head
to be very apt indeed. “How may I assist you, Mr. Crowley?"

"It's my daughter, Jewel. Can you
tell us what's ailing her?"

The brothers parted like a fortress gate
to let her near the bed. Jewel was a beautiful, cinnamon-skinned young woman
but terribly, terribly thin. "How long has she been ill?" Vivid asked
as she bent close to Jewel and gently opened the lids of the sleeping woman's
eyes.

"On and off for nearly a month now,
but she wasn't laid low like this until yesterday," Jewel's father
answered.

Vivid was pleased to see that Jewel's eyes
were clear. She ran her hands lightly over Jewel's jawbones in search of
unnatural swelling. There was a bit, but not enough to signal any major
inflammation. Her forehead felt warm beneath her practiced hands but not
unnaturally so. The woman coughed in her sleep, filling the otherwise silent
room. "Mr. Crowley, I'd like to examine her if that's agreeable."

"That would be fine."

He did not bother to mask his concern for
his daughter, nor did his sons. All of them appeared genuinely distressed, so
much so that although Vivid waited patiently for them to leave, they all
remained standing there. "Gentlemen, may we have some privacy?" Vivid
asked gently.

Quickly, they all began mumbling apologies
and headed for the door, but Vivid could tell by the way they kept looking back
at the bed that they were departing with great reluctance.

Once alone with her patient, Vivid
conducted a preliminary examination and surmised that the young woman had a
slight inflammation of the lungs. However, the inflammation did not account for
the gaunt face, dull skin, or overall thinness. According to the men, Jewel had
not been ill long enough to have lost so much flesh. Vivid immediately ruled
out lack of nutrition as the cause because the giant brothers looked healthy
and well-fed. Curious, Vivid picked up the woman's lifeless hands and peered at
them closely. Vivid found her answer. Satisfied, she covered Jewel and went out
to join the men.

Adam Crowley confronted her immediately.
"What's your diagnosis, Dr. Lancaster? I tell you now, I will not have her
bled."

"Don't worry, Mr. Crowley I don't
believe in bleeding my patients. Your daughter is not in serious danger."

"That's good news," he said with
a sigh of relief.

"She has a slight inflammation of her
lungs. A recoverable illness given the proper rest."

"Is that why she won't wake up?"
Noah asked.

"No. That has to do with something
else. I'll explain, but tell me, what does Jewel do on a typical day?"

Vivid watched the brothers look at one
another, then Paul spoke. "Well, she gets the eggs first thing, then cooks
our breakfast and does the milking."

"After breakfast," Ezekiel
chimed in, "she starts the bread for the evening meal, then does the
washing. About midday we all come in to eat. After that, if it's not too hot,
she does the gardening."

"She feeds the chickens and slops the
hogs," added Noah.

"Is this every day?" Vivid asked
amazed.

"Just about," said Jeremiah.

Vivid looked around at the able-bodied men
and then said, “All of you need a buggy whip taken to your backsides! What do
all of you do all day long?"

"Hunt, fish, trap, why?"

"Because that girl is exhausted,
that's why she won't wake up! I'll bet my certificate she keeps this house
spotless, doesn't she?"

"Why, sure. How'd you know?"

"Because her hands and fingers are
cracked and red raw from soap and lye." Vivid looked around at the giant
men and then thought back on the woman lying silently in bed. "All of you
should be ashamed!"

"Now hold on a minute, young
woman!" Mr. Crowley spoke sharply.

One of the brothers interrupted his father
to say, "Dr. Lancaster, we would help if she'd let us, but she doesn't
like us in the house when she's working."

"She says we take up all the
air," another pointed out sadly.

Vivid could understand why Jewel would
feel that way. Having all of them in the room was a bit overpowering, but Vivid
saw that as only as an excuse. She asked, “So have any of you ever offered to
help with the chores?"