Cactus Flower (27 page)

      
Eulalie
lifted her eyebrows. “Yes, he is.”

      
After
what seemed like a million years of taut silence, Patsy grinned at her
sister. “I don’t blame you one little bit, Eulalie Gibb. Good for
you! I hope you and Mr. Taggart keep enjoying each other for the rest
of your natural lives!”

      
“Oh,
Patsy!” And Eulalie ran to the sofa and threw her arms around her
sister, and the two of them cried
again.

      
When
five o’clock rolled around, Patsy again donned her hat and veil, and
Eulalie led her to the Johnsons’ house, where Mrs. Johnson served
the ham and squash and taters that little Sarah had promised. Eulalie
knew Patsy would be embarrassed to remove her hat, but she also knew
that the people in Rio Peñasco would find it more odd if she continued
to veil herself indoors than if she revealed her scars to the world.
The good Lord knew, Patsy wouldn’t be the only person in town to show
evidence of a cruel and quixotic world.

      
She’d
warned Mrs. Johnson what to expect, and that good woman behaved as Eulalie
might have expected. She didn’t bat an eye, but greeted the sisters
with a hug and a quick kiss each. Then she took their outer wraps and
hats, handed them off to William with the order to hang them on the
hall hooks, and led the way to the parlor. “You two just sit yourselves
down in here, and I’ll have William bring you both a nice cup of tea
while my girls and I get supper on the table.

      
“Thank
you so much,” murmured Patsy.

      
Eulalie
knew she felt self-conscious, so she smiled and tried to act natural.
“Is there anything we can do, Louise? We’re not used to sitting
around while other people work.”

      
“Lord
bless you! I know that, Eulalie Gibb. But you deserve to be waited on
at least once in your life.” She winked at Patsy and went to the kitchen,
and Patsy and Eulalie sat on the flowered sofa that held pride of place
in the small parlor.

      
“She’s
very nice,” whispered Patsy.

      
“Indeed,
she is. And her children are delightful.”

      
At
that moment, William Johnson made his way into the parlor very slowly,
carrying a tray with cups, saucers, sugar, cream, and a teapot. He walked
slowly, unaccustomed to this particular brand of social behavior. Because
she felt a little sorry for him, Eulalie rose to help him.

      
“Thank
you, William. You’re quite the gentleman.” She relieved the tray
of the teapot, which was heavier than anything else.

      
He
blushed a vivid shade of scarlet, but managed to set the tray on the
table before the sofa without mishap. “Thank you, ma’am.” He bobbed
his head at Eulalie.

      
“Thank
you
, William.”

      
“You’re
welcome,” he said, and fled the room.

      
Patsy
laughed softly. “Poor boy.”

      
“They’re
all very nice children.”

      
Mrs.
Johnson entered the parlor and sat with a huff in the chair opposite
the sofa. “My girls are going to set out supper, but I thought I’d
come in here and take a cup of tea with you.” She poured out tea and
handed a cup to Patsy. “I hope you don’t mind, but I invited someone
to supper with us.”

      
“Of
course, we don’t mind,” Patsy said, taking the cup and saucer.

      
Eulalie
knew she was lying, but she also knew there was nothing to be done.
Besides, Eulalie suspected Mrs. Johnson had invited Nick and/or Junius—and
the two of them were so much like family, it hardly mattered. She accepted
a cup of tea with her thanks. “Who’d you invite, Louise?”

      
“Lieutenant
Fuller.”

      
Patsy’s
eyes widened. “Oh!”

      
Eulalie’s
eyes narrowed. “Oh?”

      
“Yep.
I felt sorry for the poor man. He carried you all the way to Eulalie’s
house, and then got sent home. He’s a nice fellow, and he looked so
forlorn, I couldn’t help myself.”

      
Eulalie
and Louise gazed at each other for a pregnant moment, each woman knowing
that Louise was playing a deep game. Eulalie wasn’t sure she approved.

      
On
the other hand, this would give Patsy an opportunity to practice overcoming
her shyness about being scarred. Lieutenant Fuller would most definitely
act the gentleman. She said, “I see. That’s … nice.”

      
“It
will be,” said Louise with more assurance than Eulalie felt. “I’m
sure we’ll all have a good time. Or as good a time as possible, with
five children at the table.”

      
The
sisters laughed a little out of politeness. Eulalie figured Patsy must
be wishing everybody would leave her alone right about then.

      
She
had no time to reflect on the matter, however, because a knock came
at the door, and Penelope rushed to answer it. Eulalie had noticed before
now that Penelope seemed smitten with the handsome lieutenant. He entered
the parlor, carrying his cavalry hat in one gloved hand, and proffering
a little bouquet of flowers in the other.

      
“I
brought flowers for the ladies of the house.” Somehow, he managed
to include all the women in the parlor in his elegant bow.

      
He
hadn’t seen Patsy’s face yet, Eulalie surmised. It wasn’t surprising,
since Patsy had bowed said face and turned slightly so that he couldn’t
see her right cheek.

      
“Aren’t
you the one!” exclaimed Mrs. Johnson, laughing. “Such a gentleman.”

      
“Thank
you, Gabriel,” said Eulalie, wishing he hadn’t come.

      
“How
very kind,” murmured Patsy into her lap.

      
Eulalie
prayed hard for her sister in that moment.

      
“Well,”
said Fuller, straightening and lapsing into a more relaxed attitude.
“Flowers are kind of hard to come by out here, but Mrs. Magruder let
me pick a couple of her roses and some of these white things.”

      
“Daisies,”
said Eulalie. “They’re very pretty.”

      
She
heard Patsy take a deep, sustaining breath, and glanced over. She wanted
to take her hand and offer her a measure of courage, but she didn’t
want to appear obvious. Besides, she knew her sister would get through
this. She only wished she could save her the awkwardness accompanying
these initial meetings with strangers. Patsy was strong. She would survive.
But she’d already suffered too much, both physically and emotionally.
She didn’t need to endure any more of life’s vicious buffets.

      
Patsy
turned and smiled up at Gabriel Fuller. Turning her attention to him,
Eulalie recognized the moment of shock in his eyes when he saw Patsy’s
poor scarred face. It lasted only a second, and then his brown eyes
warmed, and his grin turned into a pleasant smile. She honored him in
that instant and breathed more easily.

      
“We’re
awfully happy to have you join us here in Rio Peñasco, Miss Gibb,”
he said after the briefest of pauses.

      
“Take
a seat, Gabriel Fuller,” said Mrs. Johnson, rising from her chair.
Eulalie understood that she, too, had been figuratively holding her
breath, waiting for Fuller’s reaction to Patsy’s tragedy. “I’ll
go fetch a bowl for these pretty posies. You just take this chair here.
I won’t be sitting down much before we get supper on the table.”

      
“Thank
you kindly, Mrs. Johnson.” Fuller handed over his fistful of flowers
and stripped off his gloves as he sat. He put his hat and gloves on
the table next to him.

      
“It’s
nice of you to join us for supper, Lieutenant,” said Eulalie, searching
her mind for suitable pre-supper chitchat. She was usually pretty good
at this sort of thing, but her anxiety had taken up most of the room
in her otherwise agile brain. “And the flowers are really pretty.
I’m surprised roses do so well here on the desert.”

      
“According
to Mrs. Magruder, you have to be careful with them,” he said. Eulalie
got the impression he pounced upon roses gratefully, as if he, too,
were unsure how to carry on a conversation with a scarred former beauty.

      
Suddenly
all this shilly-shallying seemed stupid to Eulalie, and she decided
to confront the monster head on. “Poor Patsy suffered a terrible accident,
Lieutenant, as you can see, but she’s ever so much better now.”
She reached over and took Patsy’s hand. “And she’ll only continue
to improve now that we can be together again.”

      
She
felt Patsy’s start of surprise, but then she sensed her relax, as
if she were glad the monster had been dispelled. “Yes,” she said.
“I’m afraid I was badly scarred.” With a rueful smile, she added,
“The … er … accident put an end to my acting career.”

      
“I’m
very sorry to hear that, ma’am.” Fuller added gallantly, “But
I can’t see that you have anything to worry about. You’re still
a lovely woman.”

      
And
then he blushed, charming Eulalie. When she glanced at her sister, she
saw that her sister, too, found the ingenuous comment felicitous.

      
“Thank
you, Lieutenant Fuller. You’re very kind.”

      
Patsy’s
smile still held its old beauty, Eulalie decided. Nothing could mar
the genuine goodness of her sister, really. Not even Gilbert Blankenship.

      
Fuller
walked the sisters home after supper ended and they had all thanked
Mrs. Johnson profusely for her excellent meal and delightful hospitality.

      
“What
a very nice woman Mrs. Johnson is,” said Patsy.

      
Eulalie
was pleased to note that she seemed calm and unembarrassed to be walking
with Fuller. The two had been friendly over supper, and Fuller had made
Patsy laugh twice, something of a miracle in itself, when he told her
tales of his life on a frontier fort.

      
“Mrs.
Johnson is a saint,” Fuller agreed. “She’s always got a kind word
and a piece of pie for any of us poor bedraggled soldiers who find our
way to town.”

      
“You
don’t look very bedraggled to me,” Eulalie commented dryly.

      
Fuller
grinned. “I spruced myself up for the evening. Wanted to be presentable
for two such lovely ladies.”

      
Again
Patsy laughed softly. “You’re quite the gallant gentleman, Lieutenant
Fuller.”

      
“I
do my best, ma’am.”

      
He
left them at their door with another graceful bow, and returned to Mrs.
Johnson’s house, where he’d left his horse.

      
Eulalie
ushered her sister into their little house, and both ladies sank onto
chairs in the parlor. Eulalie decided to see what Patsy had to say about
the evening’s entertainment before she commented. After sighing deeply,
Patsy did.

      
“That
was a wonderful meal. I’m surprised accommodations are so good here.”

      
“Oh,
my, yes,” agreed Eulalie with a grin. “Why, we even have a restaurant,
of sorts.”

      
“Goodness.”

      
“Its
goodness is fair, actually, but the quantities are grand.”

      
The
comment brought a smile to Patsy’s lips. The two lapsed into silence.
Eulalie noticed a dreamy expression on her sister’s face, and she
wondered if Patsy was thinking about Gabriel Fuller or her old, carefree
life in New York and Chicago. Civilization was trying its best to take
over Rio Peñasco, but it had a ways to go yet, and Patsy was the product
of a thriving metropolis. Eulalie hoped she wouldn’t find life too
harsh in the west.

      
Thinking
that a little of nature’s beauty might be appreciated under the circumstances,
she said, “Would you like to take a couple of kitchen chairs outside,
Patsy? The sunsets out here are really quite remarkable, and there may
be a little of it left.”

      
“I’d
like that. Where’s the wind you wrote so much about, by the way?”

      
Rising
and heading for the kitchen, Eulalie laughed. “I thought I’d blow
away the first few days I was here. Believe me, the wind was something
hateful. But it seems to have died down some now that it’s summertime.
People tell me that the springtime is the worst time for winds, although
they say the winter winds can be vicious, too.” She picked up a chair
and headed for the back door.

      
“I
suppose there’s nothing one can do about the weather,” Patsy murmured,
grabbing another chair.

      
“Not
much, although people are planting trees everywhere they can think of
to serve as windbreaks. Nick planted a little row of Lombardy poplars
out back. I’ll show you. He said they’d grow quickly.”

      
“That
was very nice of him.”

      
“Yes,”
Eulalie agreed. “It was.”

      
“I’m
so glad you’ve found a protector, Eulalie. You’ve had to be strong
all by yourself for too long. God knows, I haven’t been of any use
to you.”

      
Placing
her chair against the back wall of her home and sitting, Eulalie said,
“That’s enough of
that
kind of talk, Patsy Gibb. You couldn’t
help what happened to you.” She turned her chair slightly so that
she was facing full west.