Cactus Flower (33 page)

      
“Thank
you, Nick.”

      
“You’re
welcome.”

      
He’d
got all the pins and things out of her hair and she’d put her shoes
on by that time. While Eulalie wrapped her hair into a knot and pinned
it in place, Nick got her shawl and put it around her shoulders. “Now,”
said he, “what the hell’s going on, Eulalie, and don’t leave anything
out. You can tell me all about it while I walk you home.”

      
She
clung to him like a limpet, a circumstance that worried Nick. This didn’t
seem like the Eulalie he knew and—God save him—loved. “Please
wait until we get home, Nick. This is more Patsy’s story than it is
mine. And I really don’t think I could stand to tell it more than
once.”

      
Nick
didn’t like it, but he agreed. He supposed it was for the best, since
he wanted to be alert in case anybody tried to jump them. He’d had
scoffed at such a possibility until tonight. Tonight, he wasn’t sure
of anything any longer, and the moon was new, and it was black as India
ink outdoors. “Do you expect this Blankenship bastard to have friends
hanging around?”

      
“Friends?”
Eulalie sounded startled. “Why, I … don’t know. Why?”

      
Why?
Because he was debating whether or not to carry a lantern, given the
relative blackness of the night. “Just wondering, is all.”

      
“Oh.
Well … I doubt it. I don’t think he has any friends.”

      
“All
right.” Still, he opted to forego the lantern. He didn’t want to
give any lurking villains a better target than he could help, just in
case Blankenship had formed acquired friends since Eulalie had last
seen him.

      
They
heard a soft murmur of voices before they saw Patsy and Gabriel Fuller.
Nick heard Eulalie suck in a quick breath.

      
“They’re
outside,” she whispered, as if their being outside was one of the
worst things that they could be.

      
“Probably
spooning on the back porch,” observed Nick with some satisfaction.
He tolerated Fuller ever so much better now that he knew the lieutenant’s
interest lay with Patsy and not Eulalie.

      
“But
she can’t be outside,” Eulalie cried softly, speeding up until she
was practically dragging Nick behind her—quite a feat, given the differences
in their sizes.

      
“Whatever
you say.” And Nick scooped her up and covered the last few paces to
the Gibb sisters’ house more quickly than Eulalie could have done.

      
Fuller
jumped to his feet when Nick suddenly erupted into the back yard and
set Eulalie on her feet. “Shoot, Taggart! I thought you were an outlaw
or something,” growled Fuller. He nodded at Eulalie. “Ma’am.”

      
Patsy,
too, was on her feet. She stared at her sister in trepidation, “Eulalie!
What’s the matter? Why are you home so soon? Why is Nick carrying
you?” Nick put her down, and Patsy rushed over and threw her arms
around Eulalie, who embraced her back.

      
Nick
eyed the two sisters and felt slightly disgruntled. He really wanted
to know what the devil was going on here.

      
Eulalie
released Patsy and held her at arm’s length. Watching her fiercely,
as if she feared for the state of Patsy’s nerves, she said slowly
and deliberately, “Gilbert Blankenship has come to Rio Peñasco, Patsy.
He was at the—”

      
She
didn’t get to finish telling her where Gilbert Blankenship was, because
Patsy uttered a sharp gasp and crumpled to the ground.

      
“Patsy!”
Eulalie tried to catch her sister’s body, but only succeeded in being
borne to the earth along with her.

      
“Shit,”
muttered Nick.

      
He
and Fuller both reached for the sisters at the same time. Nick managed
to get Eulalie on her feet, and Fuller picked Patsy up and headed to
the kitchen door. “Good God,” he said under his breath.

      
Nick
couldn’t have agreed more.

      
Eulalie
rushed to the kitchen to get some water, as Lieutenant Fuller laid Patsy
on the sofa in the parlor. Nick, who felt kind of useless, followed
Eulalie. “Anything I can do?”

      
“I
don’t think so.” She glanced at him and smiled tentatively. “Thank
you, Nick. I’m so glad you’re here.”

      
And
he didn’t feel useless any longer.

* * * * *

      
By
the time Patsy recovered from her faint, Junius had arrived. When she
did open her eyes, she started crying and wringing her hands and generally
behaving in a way that shocked Eulalie, who had always known her sister
to be strong and resilient—and thank God for it, or she wouldn’t
have survived this long. Eulalie’s relief was great when Gabriel Fuller
wrapped his arms around Patsy and held her during the storm. She was
also extremely grateful to Nick, who held her hand as they both watched
helplessly.

      
After
what seemed like hours, but was really only minutes, Patsy regained
her self-control. Using the huge handkerchief Fuller had offered her,
she mopped her cheeks and eyes and blew her nose. “I’m sorry,”
she said in a sniffly voice. “I was just so … shocked. And afraid.”
She gazed beseechingly at Eulalie. “Oh, Eulalie! Whatever will we
do?”

      
Run?
To Eulalie, that seemed like the only option, but she dreaded it. She
didn’t want to leave Rio Peñasco. She didn’t want to leave Nick
Taggart.

      
Anyhow,
if Gilbert Blankenship had found them once, he could surely find them
again. Unless, of course, the sisters found a town with no newspaper.

      
She
didn’t answer Patsy’s question immediately, since her thoughts were
in such a turmoil.

      
It
was Nick who spoke next, in a voice that snapped with disapproval and
suspicion. “Who the hell is that man, Eulalie? And what kind of hold
does he have over you?”

      
Eulalie
looked at him with surprise. “Hold? He has no hold over me. Or Patsy,
either.”

      
She
heard Patsy take a deep, ragged breath. “That’s not true, Eulalie.
These men deserve to know the truth. I … I don’t care anymore. They
need to know everything if they want to help us.” She looked suddenly
at Gabriel Fuller, who still held her in his arms. “But maybe they
don’t. I mean … oh, dear, I didn’t mean to presume.”

      
Eulalie
decided it was time to take charge. It was a demonstration of how much
Gilbert Blankenship’s presence at the Opera House had rattled her
that it had taken her this long to do so. Over the past few years, she’d
become adept at directing others. She cleared her throat. “Actually,
this is exactly why I made arrangements with Nick. Mr. Taggart.” Oh,
dear. She really had to get a hold on her nerves. “This possibility,
I mean. And to protect us from others, of course.”

      
Nick
said, “Of course.” He sounded quite sarcastic about it.

      
“You
don’t have to make any arrangements with me,” declared Fuller, shooting
a glower at Nick, who rolled his eyes. “I’ll kill the man if you
want me to.”

      
“The
sheriff might have something to say about that,” growled Nick.

      
“Well
…” Fuller appeared slightly chagrined. “Maybe so.”

      
“No
maybes about it,” Nick said. “I already tried to get rid of the
bastard, and Wallace stopped me.”

      
The
two men glared at each other. Drat it, her control was slipping again.
Eulalie said loudly enough to squelch any further comments from the
male contingent in the room, “Would you like to tell the tale, or
do you want me to do so, Patsy?”

      
Patsy
bowed her head and whispered, “You tell it. I … can’t.”

      
So
once again Eulalie cleared her throat. Then she began the story.

      
“Very
well. As you gentlemen all know—at least Nick and Junius know, because
I told them, and I assume Patsy told you, too, Lieutenant—Patsy and
I come from a long line of theatrical people.”

      
The
men nodded.

      
“The
Gibb Theatrical Company was established by our great-grandfather in
1834, over sixty years ago, in New York City. We practically grew up
on-stage.”

      
“Yeah,
you told me that before,” said Nick, scattering her thoughts. Junius
reached over and patted his arm, as if to tell him to calm down.

      
She
scowled at him. “That may or may not be the case, Nick, but please
stop interrupting me.”

      
He
rolled his eyes again, and she went on. “We traveled a lot on the
east coast and, of course, performed before all sorts of people, most
of whom appreciated our work and enjoyed our performances and left us
alone. It was an enjoyable life, and we both got a marvelous classical
education.”

      
And
that had nothing to do with the matter at hand, she realized when she
saw Nick shift restlessly in his chair. She was clearly putting off
the hideous revelation, and she told herself to stop it. She took a
deep breath. “About three years ago, a man named Gilbert Blankenship
saw our company when we put on a play in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. He
… he …” She hesitated, trying to think of a way to put such a
strange situation into words. Then she decided
to the devil with
it
and just went ahead and said it. “He formed an unnatural attachment—really,
I suppose one could call it an obsession—for Patsy.”

      
“I
didn’t even know him,” said Patsy in a pitifully wavery voice. “I
just began receiving notes and flowers from someone who seemed to believe
we had some sort of … relationship. A relationship of a romantic nature.”

      
“And
you didn’t?” Nick lifted his eyebrows, and Eulalie experienced a
strong urge to slug him in the solar plexus with her fist. She didn’t,
primarily because she knew from intimate experience that Nick’s solar
plexus, if hit by her, would probably break her hand.

      
“No,”
she said firmly. “She did not. At first we couldn’t figure out who
‘G. Blankenship’ was. That’s how he signed all his notes and letters.
Then, gradually, we became aware that the man seemed to be following
our company. Everywhere we went, there he was, too. He followed us from
Pittsburgh to Philadelphia to Chicago and back to New York. He became
more bold, too.”

      
Patsy
shuddered and tears leaked from her eyes again. “I swear to you that
I did nothing to encourage him. I didn’t even realize who he was until
he accosted me one day as Eulalie and I were shopping at Macy’s Department
Store.”

      
“Yes,”
Eulalie said, the memory making her skin crawl and her mouth tighten.
“He stepped right in front of us in the hosiery department and demanded
to know why Patsy hadn’t answered his last several letters.”

      
“It
was awful. He created an embarrassing spectacle. I was … alarmed.”

      
“Horrified,”
Eulalie corrected. “We both were. And we couldn’t understand the
man’s reasoning. He honestly seemed to believe that he had some kind
of romantic bond with Patsy. It was uncanny. At first, we thought someone
must be playing a bizarre joke on us, although we didn’t know why
anyone would do so.”

      
“Wait
a minute,” Nick said, his gaze flipping between the two women. “Do
you mean to tell me that this fellow you’d never met believed you
had
met? And, not only that, but that he and Miss Patsy were involved
with each other somehow?”

      
“Yes,”
said Eulalie firmly. “That’s exactly what I mean. It’s exactly
what happened. He thought that he and Patsy were in love with each other.”

      
Nick
said, “Huh,” and his frown was a picture of puzzled incredulity.

      
“It
sounds crazy,” admitted Patsy.

      
“It
is
crazy,” said Eulalie. “And it’s the absolute truth. Gilbert
Blankenship is crazy.”

      
“It
was … horrid,” said Patsy.

      
“It
certainly was. I … wasn’t as alert as I ought to have been,” Eulalie
said, guilt gnawing at her insides. “I’d recently lost my husband,
and I fear I wasn’t recovering from my grief as well as I’d expected
to.”

      
“How
could you have?” asked Patsy gently. “You and Edward were perfect
for each other. You had such a warm and special marriage. You were crushed
when he died. You’re not at fault for anything regarding Gilbert Blankenship.
He’s the one who’s insane. He must be.”

      
“But
I should have seen how mad Mr. Blankenship was and tried to do something.”
She noticed that Nick’s frown had intensified for some reason.

      
“What
could you have done?” Patsy said reasonably. “None of us expected
him to do what he did.”

      
“What
did he do?” asked Fuller.

      
“Well,
a lot of things, really.” Eulalie heaved a big sigh. “For one thing,
he continued to write and send flowers, but his communications changed.
From what had sounded like devoted, if unreciprocated and unasked-for
love, he started threatening Patsy with harm if she didn’t respond
to his communications. He demanded that she go away with him.”