Vivid (24 page)

"Is there a midwife in the
Grove?"

"Yes, I'm the midwife. Will you
drive?"

Vivid nodded and they hastened out.

"Oh, wait," said Miss Edna in a
rush, "I forgot the sign."

While Vivid waited out on the walk, Miss
Edna went into the store and came out with a large square of wood.
gone midwifing
had been painted on it in
large black letters, along with
key is at
the mill.

Miss Edna set the sign in front of the
store's closed door and explained. "While I'm gone, folks can still use
the store if the need arises. They simply go and get the extra key. Then they
get what they need, lock the door again, and leave the payment and key back at
the mill. I pick up the receipts when I return."

The women made a quick stop at Vernon's
barbershop. Vivid asked Vernon if he would tell the Graysons where she had gone
and he readily agreed. Vivid didn't want Nate searching the woods for her
again. With Vivid at the reins the two women passed the time on the road
getting to know each other better. Vivid liked Edna. Beneath the battered old
hat she wore, she had a keen mind and a ready smile. They talked about San
Francisco and Vivid's family. Then Edna told her about her daughter in South
Bend. Vivid remembered Jewel Crowley saying that Edna's daughter had fallen in
love with Nate. How many other women had fallen prey to his fatal handsomeness?
She wondered. She put Nate out of her mind and asked Edna, "Did you say
you've lived here in the Grove since the fifties?"

"Yes, I have. Came here from
Virginia. Of course, there were fewer people here then. Life was a lot harder,
too."

“Tell me about Virginia. Is it green like
this?''

"Nothing is as green as Michigan, and
I've seen a good portion of the country east of the Mississippi. After being in
the slave pens at Alexandria I could not believe the beauty here."

"You were in the pens in
Alexandria?" Vivid had heard about the pens from her father, who'd been a
slave in Kentucky.

"Yes, for nearly three months. It was
a horrible, horrible place full of sick, desperate, and dying members of the
race. Whole families were jailed in the Bruin and Hill pen in Alexandria when I
was there—babies, grandmothers. The only difference between my jail and
the big ones Deep South were that folks in Alexandria who were able enough were
allowed to write family members in hopes of having their bills paid so they
could be freed. Sadly, most wound up being purchased by another master or
mistress."

"My father said he'd heard of people
who'd died of starvation in the pens. You were lucky."

"Yes, lucky because my brother had a
very clever friend who had both French and African blood. He convinced the
owners of the pen that he'd been sent by the New Orleans merchant who'd paid
for me. Because of my fair skin and privileged upbringing, I was headed for the
fancy girl market in New Orleans."

Vivid had heard of those places also. The
women at those markets were chosen for their bright skin and cultured ways and
were usually purchased as mistresses by wealthy white planters or businessmen.
Some of the women wound up in pleasure houses, but all were sold for very high
prices.

"I am a Lee, of the Virginia
Lees," Edna continued, “and if you know anything about the Virginia Lees,
you know that there is a White branch and an African branch, and all are
related. I was the pampered companion of my mistress and half-sister,
Charlotte. We were the same age and had the same father but different
mothers."

"Then how did you wind up in the
pens?"

"When our father died in a hunting
accident, the land and slaves were given over to his brother. His wife took one
look at my face and sent me to the pens less than a week after she and the new
master took possession. I was her husband's niece, but it didn't matter. She
assumed I'd be a threat to the fidelity of her marriage."

"Couldn't your sister do anything to
prevent you from being sold?"

"Charlotte did what she did best, she
cried. My mother said being sold was my comeuppance for being so uppity. I
suppose she was right. Charlotte and I had grown up together; we shared a room,
wardrobe, tutors. I accompanied Charlotte on her grand tour of the continent
after her cotillion debut. We both were fluent in French and read Latin and
German."

Edna intercepted Vivid's stare and said
with a wry smile, "Yes, my dear, I was quite the cultured little Negress,
but I never considered myself a Black, not really. They were the help, I was
not."

"Edna, I can't believe you felt that
way."

"Oh, I did. I was as petulant and as
spoiled as a rich planter's daughter, because in reality I was. My mother kept
cautioning me about forgetting my place and acting as if I owned slaves instead
of being one, but I refused to listen. I was one of the most beautiful women in
the state of Virginia, Black or White, and no one could tell me a thing."

"How did the other slaves feel about
you?" "They hated my every step. Looking back, I don't see as how I
blame them. I gave them no respect and no quarter. I was a mean-spirited and
petty young woman in those days. The pens changed all that." "Your
brother, was he a slave also?" "No, my two older brothers were freed
when they reached eighteen years
of age. Masters did that
sometimes. They freed the sons but rarely the daughters. That practice alone
should have made me pause and ponder my place in the world, but it did
not." "So you wound up in the pens." "Yes, and the owners
of the pen contracted me sight unseen to a French businessman for the fine
price of three thousand dollars, in advance." "That's quite a
price." "I was quite the woman."

Vivid smiled and asked, "So what ever
happened to your brother?"

“He had to leave Virginia, of course.
Slave stealing in parts of the South was a hanging offense. When the real
representative from New Orleans showed up a few days later and I couldn't be
found, my brother and his friend became wanted slave stealers. Broadsides
featuring their likenesses were nailed up all over the county. Bruin and Hill
were very prominent slavers, they had a reputation to maintain. You can't be in
the business of selling slaves if you can't provide the buyer the goods."
Edna paused a moment as if thinking back. When she next spoke, her voice was
thick with emotion. "My mother, who'd had no part in the plot, other than
to write my brother and tell him of my plight in the pens, was sold Deep South.
My three sisters who were nine, eleven, and twelve at that time were
immediately taken overland to the fancy girl markets in New Orleans; the
youngest died on the trip there. Both of my remaining brothers were taken from
their families and jailed. My freedom came at a heavy, heavy price."

"What became of your brother's
friend?"

That question made Edna smile, and Vivid
was glad to see she was no longer so sad. "That man went on to become the
infamous Black Daniel, a thorn in the side of every slave owner and slave
catcher from Georgia to the Ohio line."

Vivid grinned in confusion, "The
Black who?"

"Daniel."

"As in the biblical Daniel?"

"Yes. You should hear the stories
folks told about him. They said he stole hundreds, maybe thousands of slaves
before Appomatox. The slave owners had a bounty on his head so large, slave
catchers and their dogs were tripping over one another trying to bring him to
ground."

"I've never heard of him. Was he ever
apprehended?"

"He was far too clever to be caught.
He wore disguises quite often. No one really knew what he looked like for many
years until after the war."

"And this was your brother's
friend?"

"Yes, and Viveca, he was so handsome,
even more handsome than the Grayson men."

"That's pretty handsome, Miss
Edna," Vivid said, impressed. "Is he still alive?"

"Very much so. He's older now of
course, but he lives outside Detroit and is married to a friend of Abigail's
named Hester Montgomery. Oh, stop, turn here," Edna said, pointing to a
fork in the hard-packed road. "The Carpenter place is just ahead."

The birth of the Carpenter baby spanned
three days, but finally the stubborn baby girl consented to being born. After
dropping off Miss Edna at her apartments above the store, Vivid returned home
so tired that even the simple task of breathing seemed draining. She wearily
drove Michigan around to the back of the cabin and unhitched her. In spite of
the bone-deep fatigue, Vivid took the time to inspect the mule's hooves for
stones and burrs and to fetch her water and oats.

With the mule taken care of, Vivid stepped
up onto her back porch. She had only one desire: to go to bed and fall asleep
as soon as possible. She put her hand on the door, then stopped and stared at
the sight of the swing someone had put up on the far right side of the porch.
Fatigue forgotten, she left her medical bag at the door, then walked to the
swing. Where on earth had it come from?

It hung suspended from two sturdy lengths
of chain and looked as if it had been a church pew in a previous life. It faced
out over the countryside and had been bolted into position far enough under the
lip of the roof to let occupants enjoy the view even in the rain.

Vivid ran her hand over the smooth, polished
dark wood, smiling at the gift as she slowly walked around to the front. She
glanced down at the wide seat and halted, stunned. She raised her hand to her
mouth, and tears stung her eyes as she stared down in wonder at the beautiful
wildflowers. Her hands shook as she picked them up. "Do you like it?"

She spun at the sound of Nate's low-toned
voice behind her.

"Did you do this?" she asked
softly.

As they stared across the porch at each
other she read the answer in his eyes. She wondered what it might be like to
come home every evening to find him waiting for her in just this way.

He stood there, arms folded. "You
want me to take it down?"

She replied, "No, I don't want you to
take it down. It needs to be christened. Come join me."

He sat beside her on the wide seat. To
Vivid, the lulling gentle motion felt like heaven, especially after the
difficulties of the last three days.

"How did you know I needed
this?" she asked, turning her head to look his way.

"Just thought you'd like to have a
place to sit outside in the evenings."

Vivid continued to hold his eyes.
"And the flowers?" she asked.

"Saw them and thought you'd like
them."

"First a mule, then a wagon, and now
flowers and a swing. I may put you in charge of my happiness on a permanent
basis if you're not careful, Nate Grayson," she whispered.

"If all it takes is a mule and an old
church pew, I may take the job."

Vivid stared back at the softly spoken
reply.

Whether intentionally or not, he changed
the subject by asking, "How'd the Carpenter birthing go?"

"Poorly for the first two days, the
baby was breech. Would you really take charge of my happiness?"

He looked over at her and chuckled,
"Your people should have called you Curious, not Vivid."

"I'm a physician, it's my nature to
be curious." Then she added softly, "You haven't answered my
question."

"And I won't."

Vivid didn't press. He'd already told her
all she needed to know. "Thank you again for the swing. I couldn’t have
asked for a better homecoming present."

Having him seated at her side made for a
very good present also. Vivid decided. She'd thought of him often over the past
three days, wondering about his nightmares, his first marriage. She especially
wanted to talk to him about the nightmares but remembered Abigail's advice, and
so kept her silence.

The swing's rhythm was hypnotic. Vivid
could feel the weariness in her bones begin to melt away.

Nate turned to ask whether the Carpenter
baby had been a boy or girl, but she was asleep.

He carried her into the cabin and laid her
gently on the bed. He debated whether to undress her so she could sleep more
comfortably, but in the end he simply covered her with a blanket and headed
back to his place. He decided that when the time came to undress the lovely Dr.
Lancaster in bed, he wanted her wide awake.

The next morning, Nate was out hitching
his team to the wagon when he noticed her driving fast down the track that led
out to the road. He stepped into her path and waved his arms and she pulled up
on the reins and slowed.

"Good morning, Nate," she said,
"I apologize for falling asleep on you last night."

He wondered how much longer he would be
able to fight off the urge to drag her into his arms again. "No need to
apologize. Where are you headed?''

"Over to the Farley place. I'm taking
his medical history this morning and I'm late."

"Lancaster, you look dead on your
feet. Farley can wait, go on back to bed.''

"Nate, I don't have time to discuss
this. Mr. Farley is waiting, and I must go."