Cactus Flower

by Duncan, Alice

  Nick said, “Huh.”

  The wind had died down, and the night, while not quite black as the pit from pole to pole, was doing a good job of realizing that condition. The moon lay on its back and grinned down upon her from among the stars, and Eulalie was startled to realize that she’d come to enjoy the smell of the desert. The air was so clean here. There was no slaughterhouse stench permeating everything as there was in Chicago, and no odor of too many people in too small a space mingled with garbage and horse dung as there was in New York City. Out here, only the crisp fragrance of creosote perfumed the air.

  And stars? She’d never seen so many stars in her entire life. Sometimes after she got home from work, she’d stare out her window at the sky and almost make herself believe that she could reach out and grab a handful of stars in her hands. She’d like to do that, and send them home to Patsy, so she wouldn’t be frightened anymore—although why Eulalie thought a handful of stars would help her sister overcome her misery, even she couldn’t have said.

  Pressing a cold cloth to her cheek, Eulalie frowned at Nick. “I need to discuss something very serious with you, Mr. Taggart.”

  “Yeah? What?”

  “The welfare of the Johnsons.”

  “What’s wrong with the Johnsons?”

  “Nothing! But for heaven’s sake, Mr. Taggart, you must realize that I can’t stay here any longer. Charles might have been seriously hurt tonight! I can’t have that poor boy rushing to my rescue! He’s only a child.”

  “Better not let him hear you say that. He did a pretty good job of holding those fellows off tonight.”

  “But he shouldn’t have to do that.”

  “I agree, but it’s not his fault you dress in nothing, sing at the Opera House, and then parade yourself all over town at night.”

  “I don’t!”

  Nick rolled his eyes.

  “Stop doing that!” Eulalie cried, incensed. She’d hoped to have a nice, private chat with Nick, and that he’d be receptive to the suggestion she aimed to make to him, but now she wondered if she’d been a little too sharp with him these past couple of weeks. She hadn’t pegged him as a particularly sensitive man, but, the good Lord knew, men were strange creatures. Maybe she’d hurt his feelings or something. “I have a very serious problem, Mr. Taggart, and I’m hoping you’ll be willing to help me with it.”

  “What’s your problem? The Johnsons? Hell, Miss Gibb, they aren’t the problem. You are.”

  “I am not a problem!”

  Another eye roll. Eulalie decided it would be better to ignore it.

  “This problem concerns my welfare and that of my sister.”

  “Yeah? What’s your sister’s name?”

  “Patsy. Patsy Gibb. She will be joining me in Rio Peñasco as soon as we can make arrangements.”

  “Couldn’t she get a job in Chicago either?”

  His tone was more eloquent than his words, and Eulalie knew he’d begun to doubt her story. She decided to tell him part of the truth. “My sister suffered a horrible accident some months ago, Mr. Taggart, and is unable to work at all.” It hadn’t been an accident; it had been a cold-blooded assault, but Nick didn’t need to know that.

  “An accident?” He didn’t sound quite as skeptical as he had before.

  “A terrible accident. She was grievously injured, and is only now recovered enough to make the trip west.”

  “Why does she want to move west? Aren’t there more amenities in Chicago?”

  “She wants to move to Rio Peñasco because I’m here! Curse it, Nick Taggart, why are you being so obstinate? My sister needs me! And, unfortunately, I need you!”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Yeah? How do you figure that? Junius and I already see to it that nobody gets at you in the Opera House and afterwards.”

  “Yes. And I appreciate it very much.” This was it. She sucked in a deep breath. “But I need to find a place for Patsy and me to live, and it wouldn’t be fair to anyone for us to stay at the Johnsons.”

  Nick frowned. “You’d have to share a room.”

  “I don’t care about sharing a room with my sister! I care about our safety.”

  Nick shrugged. “Don’t know what to say about that, Miss Gibb. The line of work you’re in …” He allowed his sentence to trail off, but Eulalie got the impression he thought she ought to expect trouble.

  “Listen to me, Nick Taggart. I know I can take care of myself. I proved it tonight when I shot that idiot who attacked me.”

  “Huh.”

  “And I’d have shot the other man, too, if poor Charles hadn’t stopped him.”

  “That damned belly gun of yours only carries two bullets, Miss Gibb. What if you’d missed?”

  “I carry a Colt Lightning Revolver, too, Mr. Taggart. Surely you haven’t forgotten that.”

  “Of course, I haven’t forgotten it, but I notice you didn’t draw it tonight.”

  He had her there. She muttered, “I couldn’t get at it. That awful man had me in a grip like iron.”

  “Anyhow, you’ll have a lot of explaining to do if you shoot every man who talks to you dirty.”

  “I don’t plan to shoot every man who talks dirty!” This wasn’t going at all well. Eulalie ought to have expected Nick to be difficult. He always was. She sucked in a deep breath. “What I’m hoping is that you will agree to protect Patsy and me.”

  He didn’t have a ready response to that. In fact, he only stood there—it felt more like a loom to Eulalie—and stared at her.

  She ran out of patience at about the thirty-second mark. “Well?” she demanded. “What do you think?”

  “About what?”

  Obstinate man! “About protecting me! And Patsy.”

  “Like how?”

  She huffed impatiently. “I don’t know how! But the men in this ghastly place seem to respect you, and do what you say. If everyone in town knew I was under your protection, I’m sure no one would bother me.”

  “Under my protection? Like how?”

  She wished he’d stop saying like how. “If everyone in town knew that you were my … my bodyguard, no one would dare molest me. Or Patsy.”

  “Bodyguard? How am I supposed to guard your body?”

  Her heart was pounding like a trip hammer, and Eulalie felt like battering Nick with her fists. She knew good and well the man wasn’t stupid, but he was certainly pretending to be thick headed this minute. “For heaven’s sake, Nick Taggart! If everyone thought we were … together, no man would dare approach me with improper suggestions!”

  “Together, eh?”

  She couldn’t recall the last time she’d heard him sound so cynical. Curses. Perhaps she’d misread his interest in her. Well, in her body. But she had to go on, because she really needed him. If some lout tried to break into her lodging after Patsy moved in with her, anything might happen. Poor Patsy was very fragile, both physically and emotionally, at the moment. “Yes,” she said. “Together.”

  “Hmm. What exactly is in it for me, Miss Gibb?”

  Here it came. Eulalie reached out and ran a finger along Nick’s broad chest. “I could pay you.”

  “Yeah? With what?”

  “Well … with money, if you’d like.” She prayed like mad he wouldn’t take her up on that suggestion, since money was the commodity she had least of.

  He licked his lips, and Eulalie’s heart soared. She had him! She knew she had him!

  “I don’t need money. I make enough money at the smithy.”

  “Well, then, perhaps I could pay for your services in some other way.”

  “Yeah? What other way?”

  “With services of my own.”

  He took a step back, and Eulalie’s arm fell to her side. Drat it, he wasn’t supposed to have done that! He was supposed to have fallen under her spell, curse the man!

  “All right, let me get this straight. You want me to protect your body, and in exchange, I get what? That same body?”

  “Well, yes. I guess you could put it t
hat way.”

  “I’m not marrying you,” Nick stated flatly.

  For some reason unaccountable to Eulalie, those bald words stung. She’d never let on. “I’m not proposing marriage. I’m proposing a carnal union. Your protection—of my sister and me—in exchange for my favors.”

  “Your favors, huh?”

  “You seemed interested in them once.” She hoped none of the hurt she felt inside leaked into her voice.

  “I’m as interested in ‘em as any other man. But I want you to know from the beginning that I’m not a marrying man. I’m not going to repeat my father’s mistake in that regard. No, ma’am. There’s no way I’m going to be at the mercy of a woman again in this lifetime.”

  “Well, really, Mr. Taggart! To hear you, one would think women are all terrible creatures.”

  He eyed her with what Eulalie could only term sardonic amusement. She stiffened.

  “As far as I’m concerned, Miss Gibb—and this is based on my own experience, and I’m sure not all women are like this—but the only women I’ve ever had any truck with are sly, manipulative bitches. I wouldn’t trust a woman any farther than I can see into the desert tonight. They take and take and take, and when a man doesn’t give exactly what they want, they cry and carry on and make a man feel like two bits. That’s pretty damned low, in my opinion.”

  Hmm. Interesting. Eulalie really knew nothing about Nick, the man, except that he was big and strong and helped out a lot of people in town. She’d like to hear more about his background—but not now. “You don’t have to marry me, Mr. Taggart. I need your help, and I’m willing to pay for it the only way I know how. Patsy and I will probably need all the money I can earn just to survive.”

  “Hmm. Well …”

  “And I was hoping that perhaps you might be able to suggest a place for us to stay when Patsy gets here. I really hate to remain at the Johnsons, especially after the altercation tonight. It isn’t fair that small children should be put in jeopardy because I have to sing for a living.”

  “I don’t think it’s the singing so much as the costumes, if you don’t mind my saying so, ma’am.”

  Eulalie was fed up with this shilly-shallying. She snapped, “Are you going to help me or not? I guess I can always ask somebody else to protect me. Lieutenant Fuller looked as if he might be willing to protect a lady.” She hoped he wouldn’t pounce on the word lady and use it against her.

  “He lives at the fort,” Nick pointed out, relieving the lady anxiety, if no others.

  “Well, other women live at the fort!”

  “Yeah, but they’re married to men who are stationed there.”

  She lifted her chin. “Perhaps Lieutenant Fuller isn’t as averse to marriage as you are, Mr. Taggart.”

  Nick seemed to get larger. His chest definitely expanded. Eulalie was impressed. “Do you mean to tell me you’d marry that fool just because you want somebody to protect you? Or … wait a minute. Do you want to marry Fuller?”

  Eulalie couldn’t understand how this conversation had got so far out of her control. She’d thought she had everything so well planned, and here Nick was twisting everything she said.

  She stamped her foot. “I don’t want to marry anybody! I already married the man I loved!”

  Nick had been sucking in air, preparing, no doubt, to further harass her. When she told him she’d been married, the breath left him in a whoosh. “You’re married?” He sounded stunned, unless that was her imagination.

  “I was married,” she said, peeved. “My darling Edward died four years ago.”

  “You’re a widow?”

  “Yes. I’m a widow.”

  “I thought your last name was Gibb.”

  “It is Gibb.”

  “But isn’t that your sister’s last name?”

  “Yes. Gibb is our stage name.”

  “What’s that? A stage name.”

  Eulalie heaved an enormous sigh. She hadn’t meant to get in to this. But she didn’t suppose it would hurt anything. “Gibb is the name of my family. My great-grandfather, Mortimer Gibb, founded the Gibb Theatrical Company in New York City in 1834. We’ve been performing ever since. My husband’s last name was Thorogood, but I’ve always been called Gibb, because I belonged to the acting company by that name.”

  “Oh.” Nick scratched his chin. “I reckon that makes sense.”

  “Yes,” said Eulalie. “It does. Now can we get back to the matter at hand?”

  “I’ll be damned. I didn’t know you were a widow. So you’ve had experience, eh?”

  She stiffened. “I don’t know what you mean by experience, but if you mean do I know what men and women do together, yes. I do.” Her lovely lost Edward had been a tender and gentle lover. She had a feeling bedtimes with Nick might be a trifle more exciting. Not that she meant in any way to disparage darling Edward.

  “Hmm. So you’ll become my mistress if I agree to protect you and your sister.”

  Bluntly put, but Eulalie couldn’t argue with his conclusion. “Well … yes. In so many words.”

  “And you need a place to stay.”

  “Yes. With Patsy.”

  “And me.”

  “You’d live with us?” She hadn’t counted on that.

  He shrugged. “Don’t know why not. I’ve got a place behind the smithy. It’s big enough for two girls and me, I reckon.”

  “What about your uncle? I thought he lived with you.”

  “Well … we could probably work around that.”

  Eulalie doubted that. She decided to try a different tack. “Um … wouldn’t people look at me askance if I lived with you without benefit of wedlock?”

  The expression on his face could only be considered sardonic. “You’re worried about that now? After you propositioned me?”

  “I didn’t proposition you! Not exactly.” Frustrated, Eulalie went on, “Listen to me, Nick Taggart. My sister and I have been through a lot recently, and we might not be out of danger yet. I mean Patsy might not be out of danger. Because of her injuries and all, and the terrible suffering she’s been through. We need protection. But we’re not loose women, curse it! If I thought there was an alternative, I wouldn’t have suggested this bargain.”

  His face lost its sardonic cast and became curious. “What kind of danger? Mind telling me about it?” He sneered a little. “I mean, if I’m going to put myself in danger for you, you might just mention what you’re worried about.”

  Blast. She hadn’t meant to get into this, either. “I doubt that you’ll be in danger, Mr. Taggart. After all, you’re a big, strong man.”

  “Yeah, but even a big strong man isn’t immune to bullets, so if you think—”

  “Good heavens!” Eulalie tittered and couldn’t believe it of herself. “I’m sure there’s no danger of any shooting going on.” She hadn’t actually considered the possibility that Nick himself might be in danger if he took over the job of protecting her and Patsy. For probably the millionth time, Eulalie wished she’d been able to do more than hit Gilbert Blankenship over the head with a skillet. If she’d only had her guns then …

  But it was no use wishing things were different from what they were, as she well knew. “Don’t be silly, Mr. Taggart.”

  “Yeah? Maybe I don’t think looking out for myself is silly, Miss Gibb.”

  Feeling defeated and wondering how it had happened so fast, Eulalie sighed. “Of course you don’t. I didn’t mean to imply that.”

  “Don’t you two have any other family? Why don’t you go to your family?”

  Oh, dear. How could she explain her family? She loved them dearly—the remains of them—but she couldn’t picture either Uncle Harry or Aunt Florence being of much use to her in the protection department. And she’d be hanged if she’d subject her cousins to Gilbert Blankenship’s wrath. “I … we only have an elderly aunt and uncle. What could they do?”

  “Hmm. What exactly is it you’re worried about? A couple more drunks like those tonight?”

  Eu
lalie’s temper snapped like a dry twig. “Yes! Curse you, Nick Taggart, don’t you understand? My sister is very fragile right now. If those two drunken louts had decided to break into a house where Patsy and I live when I’m at work, what protection would she have? Don’t you understand? Even if they didn’t hurt her, they’d terrify her, and her condition is too shaky for that. But if everyone in town believes you’re living with us, then they’ll surely believe Patsy and I are both scarlet women, and that would only invite more problems! Why can’t you understand?”

  Nick held up both huge hands, as if to ward off her hot words. “All right, all right. I understand.”

  Eulalie took heart. “So you’ll do it?”

  “First I’d better understand exactly what it is. I think that’s fair, don’t you?”

  She sighed. “Yes.”

  “You want me to find you a place to live with your sister.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’ll reward me for protecting the both of you with … your favors.”

  The way he said the word favors made Eulalie think he didn’t consider them such. How discouraging. Nevertheless, she said, “Yes.”

  “But you don’t want the folks in Rio Peñasco to know we’re … exchanging favors.”

  Her teeth clenched. “Yes. I mean, no, I don’t.”

  “And your sister’s sick.”

  “Injured.”

  “Injured. And she’s in rough shape.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you don’t want her bothered by men like the ones that are always trying to get at you.”

  “Yes.” She pushed the word through her teeth.

  “Hmm.”

  Nick stood there and thought. At least Eulalie presumed he was thinking, although what he had to think about she couldn’t understand. The proposition seemed quite straightforward to her. She’d sleep with him. He’d protect Patsy and her. What could be simpler, really? If Nick didn’t know the full extent of the problems she and Patsy faced, it didn’t matter. Eulalie was sure nobody would ever find them in this place.

  She recalled Bernie Benson’s glee when he told her he’d been sending copies of the Rio Peñasco Piper hither and yon, and frowned.