Cactus Flower (26 page)

      
“How
do, ma’am?” said Nick, removing his hat with much less of a flourish
than his uncle.

      
“Thank
you so much for helping my sister, Mr. Taggart,” Patsy said in her
tiny, breathy voice. “She’s told me of your many kindnesses.”

      
“Think
nothing of it,” muttered Nick. Eulalie could plainly tell that he
was uncomfortable being praised.

      
And
then came the Johnsons and the two lieutenants, and just as Eulalie
was preparing to go through the entire rest of the town, wishing all
the while that fewer people had come to greet Patsy so as to spare her
this ordeal, Patsy uttered a tiny, breathy squeak. And then she fainted.

      
Lieutenant
Fuller caught her just before she hit the dust. “Good God,” he said.

      
Eulalie
figured he didn’t know what else to say. “Patsy has been quite unwell
lately, Lieutenant Fuller. Perhaps you can carry her to the house?”

      
She
looked around for Nick, and realized he’d already gathered Patsy’s
baggage together, and he and Junius stood just a couple of feet away,
ready to escort the two ladies home. She appreciated them
so
much, and once again she realized that she’d never before met two
such helpful people. She smiled gratefully. “Thank you.”

      
And
then, because she loved these people, her new friends, she turned and
said to the crowd, “Thank you all for coming. I’m so sorry, but
Patsy has been very ill lately. I expect the excitement was too much
for her.”

      
Mrs.
Johnson hurried up to her. “Will you two be fit to come to supper
tonight? I can send Clarence and William over with—”

      
Eulalie
clasped her work-worn hand. “No. We’ll be fine. Patsy will be fine.
She’ll want to come to supper at your house, Louise. She just needs
to rest up a bit.”

      
“Well,
if you’re sure …”

      
“I’m
sure.” And she kissed the older woman’s cheek.

      
*
* * * *

      
It
annoyed Nick that Fuller got to carry the sister while he was stuck
with the baggage, but he guessed it wouldn’t do to fight the fellow
for her. Worse, it annoyed him to realize that he wanted to carry Patsy
because she was Eulalie’s sister, and Eulalie loved her, and he wanted
to be the one to protect everything Eulalie loved.

      
He
had it bad, and it peeved the hell out of him. He’d sworn since he
was a boy never to get entangled with a woman. His experience told him
that, except for a few older widows like Mrs. Johnson, females were
trouble. And here he was, wanting to play Sir Galahad for Eulalie Gibb.
He’d believed he’d struck the perfect bargain with her, setting
everything up on a businesslike basis. But no. Nick Taggart, the world’s
worst sucker, had gone and fallen for the woman. He made himself sick.

      
“Your
sister doesn’t weigh more than a feather, Miss Gibb.”

      
Fuller
sounded worried. He would, Nick thought uncharitably. Always trying
to get in good with the ladies, Fuller was. And the bastard knew that
the best way to win Eulalie was to care about her sister.

      
“She’s
been terribly ill, Lieutenant Fuller.”

      
“Please
call me Gabriel, ma’am. I’m off duty at the moment.” He gave Eulalie
one of his more charming smiles, and Nick would have leveled him except
that Fuller was carrying Eulalie’s sister.

      
Patsy
stirred as they approached the small, whitewashed adobe home. “Wh-what
happened?” She realized she was in the arms of a man, clapped a hand
to her hat, and whispered, “Oh! Who are you?”

      
“Lieutenant
Gabriel Fuller, ma’am, at your service.” Fuller turned his charming
smile on Patsy.

      
“You
fainted, dear,” said Eulalie, taking Patsy’s hand. “Lieutenant
Fuller was kind enough to catch you before you got all dirty, and he’s
carrying you to the house.”

      
“How
embarrassing,” muttered Patsy. “But I do thank you, Lieutenant Fuller.
Um … I’m sure I can walk now.”

      
“Don’t
be silly, ma’am. We’re almost there.”

      
Nick
snorted. Junius chuckled.

      
Eulalie
ran on ahead to open the door. Standing aside, she ushered Fuller and
Patsy into the house, and smiled at Nick and Junius. “Thank you all
so much. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

      
“You’d
probably have managed,” Nick said churlishly. “You want me to put
this in Miss Gibb’s room?”

      
“Yes,
please.”

      
Eulalie
didn’t appreciate his comment. He could tell by her frown. He snarled,
“In here, Junius,” and led the way to the bedroom Eulalie had designated
as being for Patsy. Junius followed with a grin.

      
Fuller
put Patsy gently down on the sofa, but he spoke to Nick. “Know your
way around this house pretty well, eh, Nick?”

      
Patsy
murmured, “Oh, my.”

      
Eulalie
said, “Well, really!”

      
Eyeing
him over his shoulder and irked that he should take his rancor out on
Eulalie, who was the only one who might be hurt by his comment, Nick
snarled, “Junius and I built the place. Remember? I know where the
bedrooms are.”

      
“Right.”
Then Fuller returned his attention to the women. “Sorry, ladies. I
don’t know what I was thinking. Of course, the Taggarts know where
everything is.”

      
“Yes.”
Nick was pleased to hear the chill in Eulalie’s voice. “Thank you
very much for taking care of my sister, Lieutenant. But you’d probably
best be getting along now. Patsy and I have a lot of catching up to
do.”

      
Nick
would have applauded, but his hands were full.

      
“Yes,
ma’am.” Chastened, Fuller bowed to Eulalie, picked up Patsy’s
hand, and kissed it. “Please forgive me, ma’am.”

      
“Oh,
no, Lieutenant Fuller. I must thank you. You were so kind.”

      
Nick
decided he liked Eulalie a whole lot better than Patsy. At least Eulalie,
while spiky as a barrel cactus, could see through some people’s surface
charm. He plopped the trunk on the floor of Patsy’s room and returned
to the parlor in time to see Fuller bow one last time and depart. He
was glad to see his back.

      
Turning
to Eulalie, he said, “Is there anything else we can do before we leave
you two to catch up?”

      
Behind
him, Junius said, “It’s sure a pleasure to know Miss Eulalie has
some of her family with her now, Miss Patsy. She’s been missing you
something fierce.”

      
“And
I’ve missed her, too, Mr. Taggart. You can’t imagine how much. Thank
you so much for being such a help to her.”

      
“Junius
is just full of help,” Nick muttered. He cocked an eyebrow at Eulalie.

      
“Thanks,
Nick, I think we’ll be fine now.”

      
“All
right. We’re right close by if you think of anything else you need.”
He could have kicked himself as soon as the words left his mouth. Hell’s
bells, he’d spent the past fifteen years trying to get away from helpless
females. He didn’t need to make a capable, independent woman
think
she was helpless. In an effort to retrench, he said, “Although I doubt
that you’ll need us at all.”

      
He
heard Junius snicker.

      
“Thank
you, Nick,” Eulalie repeated. She narrowed her eyes at him. “We’ll
be fine.”

      
So
Nick grabbed Junius, and they left.

      
Chapter
Twelve
 

      
Eulalie
got a glass of water for her sister and sat beside her on the sofa.
“Are you all right now, Patsy? You scared me to death when you fainted.”

      
Patsy
shook her head. “I’m sorry. I must have been more fatigued by the
journey than I realized. That stagecoach is a rough ride.”

      
“It
certainly is. It nearly battered me to death, and I hadn’t been through
the ordeal you’ve been through.”

      
Patsy
set her glass on one of the apple-crate tables, and turned to embrace
her sister. “Oh, my Lord, Eulalie, I’m so glad we can be together
again! The Hollands took wonderful care of me, but I’m so happy to
see you again!”

      
They
cried in each other’s arms for a few minutes, before Eulalie, feeling
stupid, pulled away and wiped her eyes. “Good heavens, we never used
to be such sillies.”

      
Lifting
her veil, Patsy mopped her eyes. “No, but I think we deserve to be
silly for a few minutes.”

      
Eulalie
gazed mournfully at her sister’s face. “The scarring really isn’t
so awful, Patsy.”

      
Patsy
heaved a sigh that was almost as big as she was and fingered the worst
of her scars, a two-inch white pucker on her right cheek. “I feel
so self-conscious. I know others have to endure much worse troubles
than I, but … well, I’m not used to being …”

      
She
hesitated for so long, Eulalie said, “If you say you’re not used
to being ugly, I may have to take a strap to you, Patsy Gibb. You could
be scarred three times as badly as you are now and still be beautiful.”

      
Patsy
gave her a gentle smile. “That’s because you love me, dear. I’m
afraid the rest of the world might not be so kind.”

      
“Bosh.”
Eulalie knew her sister was right, however. The world could be a cruel
place. “I hope you don’t mind, but I accepted an invitation to dine
with the Johnsons this evening.”

      
“The
Johnsons? Was that the nice woman to whom you introduced me? The one
with all the children? I remember you writing to me about her.”

      
“That’s
the one, all right. She’s one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet,
and she’s generous to a fault. In fact,” she said, realizing with
surprise that she was going to tell her sister a truth, “I’ve found
most of the people in Rio Peñasco generous and giving. And forgiving,
too, since they don’t seem to mind that I earn my living by singing
in a saloon.”

      
“At
least that’s all you had to do.” Patsy looked searchingly at her
sister. “It
is
all you’ve had to do, isn’t it, Eulalie?
You wouldn’t pretend with me, would you?”

      
It
was Eulalie’s turn to sigh. “No, Patsy, I won’t pretend. And I’ll
tell you the truth. Mr. Taggart—the younger Mr. Taggart, I mean—has
agreed to act as our protector in exchange for … for my favors.”

      
Patsy
sagged on her end of the sofa. “Oh, Eulalie,” she whispered, and
she began to cry again. “I can’t believe what we’ve come to. I’m
so sorry I’ve put you through this. I feel as if everything is all
my fault.”

      
“Stop
that!” Eulalie cried, aghast. “None of this is your fault! It’s
all Gilbert Blankenship’s fault, and you know that. He’s the villain
of this particular drama.” She took a deep breath and decided to admit
another truth. “And besides all that, I … don’t mine. You know,
doing … that with Nick. He’s … well, I like him. A lot. And …
and, curse it, I enjoy it too!” She felt her face flame and pressed
her hands to her cheeks.

      
Lowering
the handkerchief into which she’d been weeping, Patsy looked at her
sister in wonder. “Eulalie … I can’t believe … do you mean you’ve
fallen in
love
with Mr. Taggart.”

      
Curse
it. Eulalie took an agitated turn around the parlor. Pausing at the
window, where she pushed aside the sheet she’d been using as a curtain
until Mrs. Sullivan had the new ones finished, she gazed out into the
amazing desert on which she now lived. She used to think there was nothing
here. She knew better now. She took a deep breath and examined herself
keenly, not wanting to fib to Patsy. “I … I’m not sure. I …
oh, bother.”

      
“It’s
all right, Eulalie. I know you must be confused. Mr. Taggart is …
well, he’s so unlike …” her voice trailed off.

      
“He’s
so unlike Edward,” said Eulalie flatly. “Yes, he is. He’s big
and strong and tough, and poor Edward was frail and weak—not morally,
of course.” She felt compelled to defend her late husband and to remind
herself and Patsy that she’d loved Edward madly.

      
“Of
course,” murmured Patsy.

      
Eulalie
watched as her sister surveyed the small parlor in which she sat. Patsy
said, “Mr. Taggart certainly seems to be a helpful man who is knowledgeable
about life on the frontier.”

      
“Exactly!”

      
“He’s
a blacksmith, you say?”

      
“Yes.
He and his uncle both. Junius reminds me of Uncle Harry.”

      
“Yes,”
Patsy murmured. “You said so in one of your letters.”

      
Silence
permeated the small room for a moment before Patsy broke it. “Mr.
Nick Taggart is a very large man.”

      
“Yes,
he is.”

      
“And
he’s awfully good-looking, too.”