Vivid (35 page)

"Well, Maddie, I'm real pleased to
know you."

"Pleased to know you, too,
Viveca."

"The Quilt Ladies should be by
sometime tomorrow."

Maddie snorted.

"You'll see." And with a
departing wave she drove away.

M
r. Crowley was right. The work to finish her new home took exactly
seven days.

On the evening it was finished, Vivid
walked around her new kitchen and ran her hands over the smooth wood face of
the beautiful cabinets Paul Crowley had built and installed. She walked into
the bedroom and marveled at the colorful rag rugs the Quilt Ladies had sent as
gifts and the emerald-green curtains Abigail had made for the window. The bed
taking up most of one side of the room had come as a gift, too, from Mr.
Crowley. He'd made the four-poster a few years ago hoping to give it to one of
his sons as a wedding gift, but, he told Vivid, as the men moved the bed into
her bedroom, that since it didn't appear any of them would be tying the knot
anytime soon, she might as well have it.

Because the bed had been built to hold a
Crowley, it was large. She took the opportunity to lie atop it for the first
time; the comforting cushion of the feather mattress enveloped her. She lay
there imagining Nate lying beside her and how it might be to have her babies
here. She missed him. Last night she'd dreamed of them making love and she had
awakened damp and pulsing. She wished he'd hurry home.

The next morning, Vivid went out to
inspect the small box she'd erected down on the road at the end of the drive.
She'd installed it so folks could drop off notes and pick up their medicine if
she wasn't around. When she found the box empty, she turned back and saw Magic
coming her way carrying the chicken-wire cage housing Hector.

Hector was a baby bird Magic had recently
found at the base of a tree in the heavily wooded area behind the Crowley
place. Vivid remembered how Magic had come to her that day, running and
shouting and cradling something in her hands.

"Dr. Lancaster, I found a baby
bird!" she'd called with a mixture of elation and concern. "Pa says
never take the babies from the nest but this one must've fallen out. I found it
on the ground."

The tiny gray form had been just big
enough to fill Magic's small palm. It reminded Vivid of Sara's dead child.

"Do you think it's going to
live?"

Vivid wanted to express doubt, but Magic's
face held such hope, Vivid didn't have the heart. "Do you know anything
about raising baby birds?"

Magic shook her head sadly.

"Neither do I."

Nate's voice interrupted the discussion.
"What do you have there, Majestic?"

Vivid gave a sigh of relief. As Magic's
parent he would be better able to handle such delicate subjects as life and
death.

"A baby bird, Pa, and I didn't take
it from the nest. It was on the ground. Do you think it'll live if I feed
it?"

Nate looked doubtful. "It needs its
mother, Majestic."

"But it doesn't have one, Pa. I think
I'm going to name it Hector."

"Magic, maybe you ought to wait to
see if it will live before you give it a name," Vivid said.

"If I give it a name it will
live."

Surprisingly, Hector made it through the
first few days. Vivid donated an old mortar and pestle to the cause and Magic
used them to grind up worms and fish scraps. Judging by the size and shape of
his beak, Nate determined Hector to be a type of hawk. Magic fed Hector from a
small spoon and gave him water with a tiny dropper. Despite the grim
expectations of the adults, Hector began to thrive. He had grown fat under
Magic's care, and soft ivory and black speckled feathers were now covering the
previously gray skin. The bigger he grew, the more demanding he became. Soon
the ground worms were no longer sufficient, it seemed. The more Magic fed him
the hungrier he seemed to be.

Vivid came back to the present as Magic
held up the cage for Vivid to see, "I think he needs real worms, Dr.
Lancaster. What do you think?"

Hector was now as fat as a small melon.

"You could be right, Magic. What
would you suggest?"

"Well, we could hunt worms tonight
after it gets dark. That's what Pa and me do sometimes before we go fishing.
You ever hunt worms?"

"No, Magic, can't say as I have. But
I'll help if you need me."

"Good," the nine-year-old said,
smiling. "Of course, I'll have to check with Aunt Gail to make sure I can
stay up late."

"Of course."

Abigail gave her permission, so that
evening around dusk, Vivid and Magic began hauling buckets of water from the
pump. Then Magic set about teaching Vivid how to hunt worms.

"First thing we have to do is get the
ground sopping wet."

Following Magic's lead, Vivid poured the
buckets of water into small areas of the vast grass in back of the Grayson
house. It hadn't rained in over a week and the ground was very dry. Vivid
slapped at the mosquitoes trying to make a meal out of her exposed neck and
arms and began to have serious doubts about worm hunting.

When the last bucket had been emptied into
the earth, Magic said, "Now we wait until the moon comes up."

The moon came up less than an hour later.
Aided by its light and that of the two lanterns, Vivid and Magic returned to
their soggy patch of ground.

"We have to be very quiet,"
Magic explained. "If the worms hear us they won't come out."

Too bad worms don't eat mosquitoes, Vivid
thought testily as she swatted herself on the back of the neck.

"Shhh!" Magic cautioned harshly.

A contrite Vivid quieted as Magic
whispered, "Now watch, Dr. Lancaster."

Magic used her lantern to illuminate a
small area of the grass. Any worm not fast enough to slip back into the earth
was snatched up by her lightning-quick little brown hands and tossed into her
earth-filled bucket. She would then move to a patch of fresh ground and repeat
the process. All in all it appeared fairly simple to Vivid. Shine the light,
grab a worm, and toss it into the bucket. In practice it proved to be a lot
more difficult. Vivid's hands weren't fast enough. She'd see the worm and grab
at it but kept coming away with nothing but wet grass and earth. It became very
frustrating, especially watching Magic going about the task with such ease.

"It takes practice, Dr. Lancaster.
Keep trying, you'll get it."

Vivid kept trying but she didn't get it.
She felt as though she'd pulled up every blade of grass in the yard with
nothing to show for her efforts. The lack of success coupled with the
unrelenting attack of the blood-seeking mosquitoes had her ready to throw in
the towel when Nate's voice, dark as the night, caressed her from behind.
"Good evening, Lancaster."

She turned and found him standing only a
few feet away. The silent forces between them washed over her with such power
that for a moment she couldn't find voice to greet him.

"Hi, Pa," Magic said, popping up
out of the dark.

Nate picked her up and spun her around
until she was giggling with delight. "Hi yourself. Aunt Gail says you're
hunting worms for Hector?"

Once again on her feet, Magic replied,
“Yep. Pa, you should see how fat he's gotten. The ground-up worms don't fill
him up anymore. I thought real worms might be what he needs. Dr. Lancaster's
offered to help, but she's having a hard time getting the hang of it."

Vivid confessed truthfully, "I have
to admit worm hunting is much more difficult than it looks."

"You ought to let Pa teach you, Dr.
Lancaster," Magic suggested. "Pa is a champion worm hunter."

Vivid sought to nip that idea in the bud.
“Magic, your father has just returned from a long trip. I'm sure he'd much
prefer to go in and relax."

"Oh, I think I have enough strength
still to teach you some things before I head off to bed," he remarked
easily.

His words rippled through her.

"Good," Magic pronounced and
slipped away to resume her hunt.

Vivid still found herself more than a bit
tongue-tied. It didn't help matters when he said, "Seven days is a long
time to be away from you, Lancaster."

Every inch of her body called out to him
in longing.

"I dreamed of you," she
confessed before she could catch herself.

"We'd better hunt worms. I'd hate to
have my daughter come back and find us rolling in the grass. Follow me."

Under Nate's tutelage, Vivid had a modicum
of success. He taught her the importance of patience. "Let the worm think
he's in no danger, give him a moment to breathe, then pounce."

The strategy worked. A few minutes later,
Vivid caught her first worm. As she crowed with delight, Nate ran to retrieve
the bucket from his daughter. When he returned moments later, a very dejected
and empty-handed Vivid faced him.

"What happened?" he asked.

“After all that work, I opened my hand and
dropped the thing, and it got away."

Nate shook his head and chuckled,
"That's a cardinal rule, Lancaster. Never open your hand. You want to try
again?''

"Yes. I am not going inside until I
get at least one."

And one was all she caught.

All in all, though, it was a successful
hunt. Magic and Nate caught enough worms to keep Hector fed for at least a few
days, or so they all hoped.

That night, Vivid took a short sponge
bath, braided her hair, and slipped into a thin sleeveless gown. As much as she
craved Nate's company, she knew not to set her heart on seeing him again until
morning. He would probably put Magic to bed, then seek his own bed after the
long, tiring drive home.

She walked through the cabin and doused
the lights. The night breeze lifted the curtains and cooled the rooms. After
the heat and near-stifling humidity of the past few days, the change felt
wonderful.

She slipped outside just in time to hear
the rumble of thunder far off in the distance. She looked up into the sky and
saw fat dark clouds racing across the moon until they devoured it on another
booming note. The trees were rustling softly in answer to the far-off storm,
caressing the night with their sounds. Vivid could now appreciate Magic's
fascination with storms; the air seemed charged, fresh, and vital, making one
feel alive with the anticipation of what would come.

Nate's footstep on the porch was such a
familiar sound that she didn't even have to turn to verify his presence with
her eyes. She stood there, her back to him, and waited silently. The warmth of
him singed her as he came behind her and eased his arms around her waist. His
lips met the side of her neck as he pulled her back to fit himself more closely
against her hips. She shivered in response to his kiss of welcome.

When she turned to greet him with a kiss
of her own, he stayed her with a gentle squeeze of his hands on her waist and
whispered thickly against her ear, "No, stay just as you are, I want to
hold you like this for a little while..."

His lips traveled up the side of her
throat while his hands slowly roamed her body. She arched in invitation to his
hand as it began traveling brazenly over her thighs, her belly, then over the
tight buds of her breasts, bringing with it heat, passion, and the sweet
opening strains of desire.

Thunder boomed a bit closer and the wind
picked up as he turned her and slowly undid the small ribbons on the bodice of
her gown. He eased the halves aside, then flicked his tongue across one
straining nipple, then the other.

"You're so beautiful..." he said
softly.

Her head thrown back, Vivid shuddered as
he feasted.

It became harder and harder for her to
maintain her stance and he took sweet advantage. His hands and lips loved her
everywhere. While he continued to pleasure her breasts, he lazily rubbed her
loose-fitting gown over the sensitive flesh of her hips, raising it higher,
inch by sensual inch until he bared her, thigh to waist. His hand traveled up
and down her length, squeezing her possessively, circling her passionately as
he gently suckled each nipple in turn. He rubbed gently at the damp warmth
anchoring her dark thighs, then slid a caress over the citadel. She arched to
the sensations, wanting to experience even more.

Nate gave her more. He leaned down and
kissed her a long moment, then eased away. While their eyes held, he picked her
up into his arms and took her over to the swing.

She sat on his lap and he kissed her
again, deeply. He teased her nipples until she arched her body. His big hand
cupped her behind as he supported her, squeezing the flesh lovingly as he took
his time to make sure her breasts would never call for any other man's devotions
but his. He feasted as if she were made of chocolate. Her nipples were sweet
and ripe as summer blueberries, her hips lush as blooms in May. He wanted her
here and now, while the thunder echoed and the wind spoke loudly. He wanted to
ease her back and ease himself into paradise.