Vivid (28 page)

Nate used the teasing friction of his
fingers to raise the buds up nice and sweet, then, unable to resist, pulled the
chemise down below her breasts and loved her as he'd dreamed. Her breasts were
as virgin-ripe as the rest of her firm, lithe body. No man before him had ever
explored her until now. No man had ever bared her breasts to the moonlight and
his glittering eyes, or tasted her until she moaned his name, as he was doing
now. He was the first.

And the only one, he vowed possessively.
With renewed determination he pleasured her precious dark jewels until her head
dropped back on the swing.

Vivid tingled beneath his large hands
boldly tracing her thighs and the roundness of her hip. She could feel him
tugging her shirttail free from the waistband of her belted trousers. She
arched to give him better access, then sighed as his warm hands slid beneath her
chemise and up her bare back. The wanton warmth made her move closer against
him so she could seek his lips.

Her boldness made Nate groan and run his
hands greedily over the rich curve of her buttocks. As she leaned passionately
into his chest, he explored her thighs and legs with savoring hands. Emboldened
by her responsiveness and urged on by the throbbing in his manhood, Nate
loosened her belt buckle until it opened, then slid the length of leather from
around her waist. Next he began freeing the buttons on her pants one by one,
until he could slide his fingers over the humid skin of her navel. The thought
of what lay beyond drew his hand to circle lower. Suddenly his hand stopped and
he looked into her eyes with amused surprise. ''Viveca Lancaster, where are
your drawers?"

Vivid should have felt a tinge of
embarrassment at his discovery, but his hands began moving again, touching her
so gently yet so erotically she almost forgot what she'd meant to say. "I
don't wear..."

He pulled her pants down her thighs.
"They bunch up on my legs and..." Vivid lost her ability to speak
once he began to explore her.

He eased her across his lap. "Right
here..." he said, his hands moving to the core of her soul, “is that
lode-stone I told you about this afternoon. Its only purpose is to bring you
pleasure. I'll show you..."

Vivid could feel that part of herself
ripening and rising to his touch in much the same way her nipples had. Yet this
pleasure had its own unique heat; it was fuller, hotter, and more encompassing
than any other sensation she'd ever known. It only took a few more seconds of
his wanton lessons to send the moon crashing into the stars and for her to feel
as if she were at the center of the explosion. The buffeting aftermath left her
panting, keening, and stunned.

Once the world stopped spinning, she said,
"My goodness. What was that?" His hands were still tutoring her
slowly, letting her feel the remnants of her passion. She had never ever
experienced anything so glorious before.

He grinned down at her knowingly and
asked, "Something else they didn't teach you in medical school, I take
it?"

"Heavens, no. Nate, what did you do
to me?"

"I did nothing. Well, I take that
back..." he said, sliding his hands boldly over her moonlit breasts. He
smiled, watching her arch to the sensual command. "It's called a climax,
completion. The French call it
le petit morte.
''

Vivid fought to make her mind do the
translation in spite of him making her nipples rise and ripen once more.
"The little death?"

"The little death," he replied.

"Dying is probably not that
pleasurable," Vivid replied, still spiraling because he wouldn't stop
touching her. "But I understand why the French call it that..."

He kissed her lips. "So do I...Now
fasten your pants and go on in before I'm tempted to show you another path to
the little death..."

"Would you really?" Vivid asked,
nibbling softly on his tempting bottom lip. "When?"

"Go inside, brazen woman, before your
trousers wind up around your ankles and you find yourself sitting on something
a bit more lively than this swing."

He could see how perplexed his statement
made her and he chuckled at the confusion reflected in her dark eyes. "And
you call yourself a doctor," he teased.

Vivid had absolutely no idea what he was
intimating but from the sparkle in his gaze, she thought it might be something
she would like to try.

In the end, though, Vivid stood and
repositioned her clothing all under Nate's blazing scrutiny. As he watched her
redo her buttons, he felt his manhood throb painfully not only from being
denied but also from knowing that all this time she'd been bare inside those
denims. Had he known, he would have carried her off and pleasured her weeks
ago.

Vivid said softly, "Thank you for a
very...enlightening evening, oh mighty Thunder God."

He looked at her and smiled. “You're
welcome, brave princess. Now go on in and get some rest. I'll see you in the
morning. Give me a kiss first though, Viveca..."

Vivid bent to give him a parting kiss and
he met it with his own sweet goodbye.

After she went inside Nate sat on the
swing taking in the night and waiting for the throbbing in his pants to stop so
he could get up and walk home.

It took a while.

V
ivid spent the next two days combing the Grove for anyone needing
her services. She also spread word that no one could become ill, break a limb,
or step into a bear trap until she returned from Detroit.

On the morning they were scheduled to
depart, she, Magic, and Abigail were joined by Eli after their dawn breakfast.
They were placing their valises into the buggy they would be taking to the
Niles train depot when Nate, who'd seemed content to watch the proceedings from
the porch, strolled over to where the traveling party had gathered.

He stood before his cousin. All activity
ceased as they silently confronted each other. Nate then reached into his
pocket and pulled out a coin. "Call it in the air, cousin," Nate
instructed, then tossed the coin high and let it land in his palm.

Eli grinned. "Heads."

Nate opened his hand and showed it to Eli.
"Tails. Offer your regrets."

Eli looked into his cousin's eyes for a
moment, then, shaking his head, stated, "Ladies, it appears I won't be
able to accompany you to Detroit. My cousin will escort you instead."

Magic cheered, unmindful of the adults and
their intrigue.

Eli asked, "What if it had been
tails?"

"Then we would have flipped
again."

Eli seemed to assess Nate a moment before
asking, "That bad, is it?"

Silence.

Eli chuckled knowingly, "That bad.
Well, I've lost the war anyway, you may as well take my place." He then
began to remove his things from the buggy.

Abigail shook her head, mumbled something
about men and brains, then got into the buggy without another word.

Vivid, having witnessed this amazing
encounter, didn't know what to say or think, so she, too, joined Abigail inside
the buggy to wait while Nate went back into the house to fetch his traveling
gear.

Vivid and the Graysons boarded the
Michigan Central Railroad in Niles and took the day-long ride to Detroit. Upon
arrival, Nate hailed a hack and the Black driver helped them load their trunks
and then they were off.

Abigail had lived in Detroit for many
years before and after Mr. Lincoln's war and she proved to be a font of
information on the city. She pointed out the sights as the driver headed them
east. "That's the famous city hall, dedicated in 1871. We'll visit it
tomorrow, but from the top you can see the river and Canada."

The hack rode up the busy avenue and the
three adults smiled as Magic gawked at the horse-drawn trolleys. Vivid was
impressed by all the buildings and people on the streets. She hadn't known how
much she'd missed the hustle and bustle of city life until now. The voices and
sounds tugged at her heartstrings.

As they tooled past shops and businesses,
they all listened to Abigail tout the city's accomplishments in the
manufacturing of soap, paint, and Mr. Vernor's ginger ale. She also told them
about the important role Detroit played in shipping and promised they would see
the waterfront before they returned home.

They would be staying at Mrs. Fisher's boarding
house. Mrs. Fisher, a longtime friend of Abigail's, greeted them with
hugs and friendly smiles. She showed them to their rooms—one for the
women and a separate room down the hall for Nate.

They were too tired from the journey to do
any sightseeing so Nate rented a buggy from Mrs. Fisher's stable and they rode
to the home of Abigail's friend, Hester Vale Vachon.

"Is she the woman married to the
Black Daniel?" Vivid asked.

Smiling, Abigail asked, "How do you
know about that?"

Vivid explained about the story Miss Edna
had related.

"Yes, Hester's husband, Caleb, was
the Black Daniel. He arranged freedom for many before the war. Hester and Caleb
are fine people."

And they were. Caleb Vachon was as
handsome as Miss Edna said he would be. He had a complexion as light as churned
butter, but despite the age in his face and the gray streaking his hair, he was
still a stunningly handsome man. His wife, a beautiful ebony-skinned woman, had
prepared a fabulous meal. At the table Vivid watched the Vachons as they teased
and smiled at each other. It was easy to see the two were very much in love
even after being married over twenty years.

When the evening came to a close, the
Vachons walked them out to the rented rig. Abigail lingered over goodbyes with
her good friends, while Nate, Vivid, and Magic climbed in. Magic scooted onto
the driver's seat near her father while Vivid took a spot in the back.

"Pa, can I ask something?"

Nate looked over at his daughter and said,
"Certainly."

"Why does Mrs. Vachon have purple
hands?"

Vivid had also noticed the digo hued hands
of their hostess.

"She was a slave on an indigo
plantation when she was young. The dye colored her hands that way." Nate
leaned down and kissed his daughter on the forehead, saying, "Thank you
for being polite enough to hold on to that question until now."

Magic beamed with her father's praise.

The next morning after a hearty breakfast
at Mrs. Fisher's table, Abigail headed everyone out to tour the city. The first
stop was city hall. It was a magnificent structure with turrets and towers and
a balcony. On the lawn were six cast-iron deer which Magic found delightful.
However, the huge clock centered high on the upper face of the building drew
Vivid's attention.

"When the clock was dedicated on July
4 in '71, it was touted as the largest one of its kind in America. The famous
clockmaker W. A. Hendrie of Chicago called it his masterpiece," Abigail
explained.

Vivid read further information on the
clock, courtesy of the printed broadsides provided at the entrance. She read
aloud, "The clock's four dials measure eight feet and three inches in
diameter. The pendulum weighs one hundred and twenty-five pounds. The bell
weighs seven thousand, six hundred seventy pounds."

Nate whistled.

"And the clock cost two thousand,
eight hundred and fifty dollars," Vivid stated with amazement.
"That's quite a sum."

"Yes, it is," Abigail agreed,
"and you should have heard the outraged cries of the taxpayers at the
time."

Inside people were milling about in pursuit
of whatever business they'd come to conduct.

"Look at all the steps," Magic
exclaimed, marveling at the iron staircase. “How many do you think there are,
Aunt Gail?"

"I don't know, Majestic. Why don't
you count them as you climb to the top? I'll sit here and wait for you all to
come back."

Magic went outside to count the stairs to
the entrance and came back declaring there were thirteen in all. Added to
Magic's count were the sixty-seven to the stairway, the one hundred forty-three
to the clock, and the two hundred thirteen to the top.

Tired and winded, Vivid did not want to
climb another stair for at least six months. Fanning herself, she refused to
believe the claim that Detroit's oldest citizens made this climb to the top
regularly. She didn't think she'd ever lose the burning sensation in her legs.

But the view was magnificent. One could
see for miles around. The river stretched like a blue ribbon out before them,
dotted with many boats both small and large. Nate pointed out Canada, and Vivid
was amazed at how close it appeared. She now understood why the escaped slaves
chose to travel here. One could stand on the riverbank and see freedom
beckoning on the other side.

Climbers who made it to the top of the
Detroit city hall were also given an up-close look at the four iron maidens on
the cornices of the tower. Magic read the plaques underneath. "They are
Justice, Industry, Art, and Com—" She paused and called, "Pa,
what does this last one say?''