Vivid (19 page)
Authors: Beverly Jenkins
Tags: #Historical Fiction, #African American history, #Michigan, #Fiction, #Romance, #Women Physicians, #Historical, #African American Romance, #African Americans, #American History
"Yes."
"Are you in love with him, yet?"
"Jewel Crowley!" Vivid said with
a laugh.
"I'm only asking because every woman in
town has been sweet on him at one time or another. The girls in the choir can
hardly sing sometimes for looking at him sitting in the front pew. Then there
was Miss Edna's daughter who came up from South Bend, last August first. And
Maddie's been in love with Nate since they were Magic's age. Have you met
Maddie yet?"
"No."
"Some folks don't like her because of
the type of place she used to run, but she grew up here. Nate and Eli never let
anybody talk mean about her when she comes to town."
Vivid wondered if this woman was the same
Maddie who ran the Emporium, the brothel she had heard about.
A knock on Jewel's door interrupted
Vivid's thoughts.
"How's my baby girl?" Adam
Crowley asked as he walked in.
"Come on in and see for
yourself," Vivid said.
As father and daughter smiled at each
other, Vivid slipped out, leaving them alone.
Downstairs, the brothers surrounded her
for news of Jewel. When Vivid related their sister's promise to accept their
help, they threw their hats to the ceiling and filled the house with sounds of
joy.
The sun had begun to set when Nate and
Vivid started for home. Beside him on the seat, Vivid sat silently, thinking
about the way he'd addressed by her Christian name earlier. The shock of the
moment had been akin to touching a hot stove. She'd tried not to dwell on her
reaction but her efforts were futile. She glanced over at him and thought he'd
become more handsome in the days she'd spent with the Crowleys. She hastily
looked away and chastised herself for her thoughts. It must be fatigue again,
she rationalized. After all, she'd worked
hard
the
past few days, even Adam Crowley had attested to that fact, so it was only
natural that she would be a bit more vulnerable to Nate Grayson's overpowering
masculinity.
However, the attraction she'd admitted to
harboring
the
other day had surfaced like an emerging
spring bulb. Despite the complications sure to arise, the shoots continued to
grow. Vivid could see no other alternative but to hope for a good hard frost.
The sky-high trees growing on both sides
of the road sheltered their passage beneath a canopy of green. The beauty of a
brilliant Michigan sunset filled Vivid's senses and served to uplift her
pensive mood.
Marveling at the trees and the beautiful
splashes of color provided by the wildflowers, she asked, "Will I ever
become accustomed to this?" without realizing she had spoken out loud.
"I never have, and I've been here
most of my life," Nate replied. "Wait until autumn, now that's
spectacular."
Vivid had seen autumn in the East, but her
studies had been so tiring and all-consuming that she'd had little time to
enjoy the metamorphoses of the seasons. "I can see why your grandfather
decided to settle here. Is the rest of this state as beautiful?"
"Pretty much. The lumber beasts are
clearing a lot of the forests north and east of here, though. They brag about
cutting down every tree on both peninsulas."
"That's not possible, is it?"
"If the lumber barons smell profit,
anything is possible."
Suddenly, a white-tailed deer darted
across the road. Nate pulled hard on the reins to avoid a collision, then
fought to keep the buggy upright. The abruptness tossed Vivid across the seat
and almost into Nate's lap. A blink of an eye later, calm returned and she
found herself staring up into his too close features. "Are you all
right?" he asked.
She was near enough to feel the heat
coming off his chest and see the rise and fall of his measured breathing.
"Yes, I believe so," she said, but she seemed unable to move back to
her spot across the seat.
He reached out and for a long, drawn-out
moment, lightly traced the surface of her bottom lip. "I worried when I
couldn't find you, Viveca..."
He lowered his mouth to hers, and Vivid
shuddered. The sweet intensity proved far more wonderful than she would ever
have imagined. He put his hands on her arms and pulled her close, then closer
still. Under the passionate coaxing of his mouth, she forgot everything—her
name, her profession, the fact that they were on opposing sides. When he
brushed his mouth across her lips, then slowly nibbled the parted corners,
Vivid melted like wax.
He left her mouth tingling and slowly
moved down to explore the skin beneath her jaw, then the sensitive shell of her
ear. Vivid reeled from the heated trails he blazed, and from the lingering,
passionate way in which his mouth reclaimed hers.
He let her go finally, reluctantly, and
she sat with eyes closed, swaying. When she opened her eyes, he was watching
her, his face unreadable.
"Let's get you back," he said.
Vivid reclaimed her seat beside him,
feeling hazy from his kiss.
He picked up the reins and their journey
resumed.
From his bedroom window later that night,
Nate looked down on Vivid's cabin. He'd never meant to kiss her. One moment
he'd been dodging the white-tailed deer and the next...The next moment she was
in his arms and he hadn't wanted to let her go. Her virgin's mouth had been
just that, virginal, ripe. Even now, hours later, he could still feel the taste
of her on his lips. Women rarely affected him in such a manner. Since Cecile
he'd limited himself to playful dalliances with a lusty widow or two, but he'd
never let himself be so moved by a woman that he wanted to take her right there
on the seat of the buggy, as he had with Lancaster. He could offer no rational
explanation. He'd been frantic when he couldn't find her Sunday morning.
Abigail assured him there was no need to worry, especially since her medical
bag couldn't be located either, but anxiety had consumed him for the balance of
the day. His concerns multiplied when she didn't return the next night, so he'd
gone out to search. Finding her at Adam's had filled him with such relief, he'd
almost pulled her into his arms then and there.
Nate moved away from the window and
stretched out on his big bed, trying to make sense of his growing attraction to
Viveca Lancaster. Considering the potential for battle whenever they came near
each other, he couldn't understand what made him muse over the warmth of her
throat beneath his kisses, the feel of her hips against his palms, the scents
she wore between her breasts. By all rights, he shouldn't be thinking about her
at all unless it related to how long she'd stay before she headed off to a
place more in line with her upbringing. And she would leave, he was certain.
With that in mind, he'd be better off devising a plan for a replacement
physician instead of remembering how passionately she responded to his embrace.
But as Nate drifted off to sleep, his last
thoughts were of her lips.
B
y the following Sunday, Vivid was in terrible need of a Sabbath
rest because of all the sweeping, hauling, and scrubbing she'd been doing to
get her office ready. With Eli and Vernon's help, the holes in the foundation
and roof had been patched and tarred, and the Crowley sons had begun installing
her new truncheon floor. The cobwebs were finally banished from the back room
via the flames of a torch. On Thursday, an older man of Adam Crowley's age and
stature entered the office. He introduced himself as Hiram Farley and announced
that he'd come to encircle the base of the outside foundation with a screening
wire.
Vivid followed him outside, puzzled by
this announcement. She'd never heard of such a thing.
He was unrolling the wire mesh like a bolt
of fabric as he explained what he'd come to do. "Edna says the squirrels
got in."
"Yes, sir, they did."
"Well, after we nail this around the
foundation they won't be able to gnaw through. Rodents like familiar places and
they're probably gonna want to bed down in your place next winter, but this time,
tell them their boardinghouse is closed."
Vivid smiled. "How much do I owe you,
Mr. Farley?"
"Not a cent, little girl. This is me
and Adam Crowley's way of saying welcome to the Grove, Dr. Lancaster."
Vivid stilled. Had her visit to Adam
Crowley turned him into a supporter?
Hiram chuckled. "You impressed that
old lumber beast."
She was surprised by that bit of
information. "Mr. Crowley is a lumberjack?"
"In his youth he cut trees from here
to Superior. He didn't tell you, I take it?"
Vivid shook her head no as he took out
some tin snips and tools from the belt around his waist and knelt near the
rolled-out wire.
Hiram stated, "Adam spent the whole
time quizzing you, I'll bet."
Vivid grinned. "As a matter of fact,
he did."
Farley nodded and smiled. "Well, you
go on back and do what you were doing and let an old man get to work."
Vivid smiled and complied.
In addition to Mr. Farley, Vivid had other
visitors during the week. The Quilt Ladies stopped in, as did Miss Edna,
curious farmers on their way to and from the mill, and the Patterson twins.
Vivid noticed that Aaron Patterson's jaw continued to plague him, but he
refused to let Vivid examine him.
The only person Vivid did not see was Nate
Grayson. He'd gone up to Kalamazoo for some business, Abigail informed her the
morning after Vivid returned from the Crowleys.
She didn't see Nate again until Sunday
morning. She stepped onto her porch and noticed him seated atop the buggy ready
to take them all to church. She shouldn't have expected any more than the impersonal
nod of greeting he gave her, but she was upset by his cool manner nonetheless.
Obviously, the kiss they'd shared had meant very little to him. In retaliation,
Vivid remained quiet and impassive all the way to church.
"Our church started out as a tent,"
Abigail explained to Vivid as they toured the interior of the stone and wood
structure before the service began. Unlike the two large A.M.E. churches Vivid
and her father attended, this church was small. However, Vivid had never seen a
more beautifully carved choir box. Every beam, railing, and pew in the
sanctuary gleamed from the care it obviously received.
"This is where we hold all our
meetings." Abigail gestured as Vivid followed her into a fairly large room
down the hall. Vivid looked around and smiled at the children's Sunday school
pictures proudly nailed up on a portion of the wall. There were shelves of
books and in one corner a lectern made of dark wood. A plaque near the doorway
listed the scheduled dates and times for a book reading group, a historical
society, the Men's Association, the Women's Club, the Quilt Ladies, and the
Bible class, which met every Wednesday at seven. "I never thought there
would be so many gatherings here," Vivid said, impressed.
"We're small but we try and keep up with
the rest of the country. Between my son's newspaper and my historical society,
there isn't a lot we miss."
"You head the historical
society?" Vivid asked, surprised.
"Yes, I'm compiling a history of the
race. I'll show you my work sometime."
"I'd be honored."
On the way out Vivid stopped to look at
the items displayed on the shelves of a doorless highboy. There were various
plaques honoring past and current reverends and a large, beautifully patterned
quilt.
Abigail came up next to her and explained,
"The Quilt Ladies took first place at last year's fair with that
quilt."
"It's beautiful," Vivid noted,
running her eyes over the delicate stitching and patterns. "But what in
the world are those?'' she asked, picking up the odd-looking items. They
appeared to be small balls fashioned out of burned wood.
"Lacrosse balls."
Before Abigail could explain further,
organ music filled the air. Vivid placed the balls back on the shelf. The
service was about to begin.
Vivid took her seat next to Abigail in the
Grayson pew at the front of the church. Nate and Magic were already seated. His
eyes held hers for a brief moment as she passed by, but they were the same
distant eyes he'd turned on her that morning, so she decided to put him and his
kisses out of her mind. As the choir came in, she concentrated on singing the
processional hymn instead.
Vivid's mother, Francesca, had been raised
in the Catholic faith, but Vivid and her sisters were, like their father,
members of the A.M.E., or African Methodist Episcopal faith. One of the first
Sunday school lessons she and her sisters learned had been the story of how the
A.M.E. church came into existence.
Prior to the mid-eighteenth century, most
free Blacks in the North worshipped in White Christian churches. Mainstream
denominations such as the Baptists, Methodists, and Episcopalians welcomed
Blacks into their flocks but rarely allowed them to pray with the main
congregation. Instead, Blacks were relegated to uncomfortable benches placed in
the back of the church marked B.M., for "Black Members," or forced to
sit in balconies and galleries that bore such names as “African Corner" or
the more denigrating "Nigger Heaven." Even the Quakers, who until
1830 stood at the forefront of the abolitionist movement, did not allow its
Black and White members to pray side by side.