Since she put her hand over her astonishing bosom and shuddered when she said it, he guessed she meant it, although he wasn’t totally convinced. “Hmm. All right, then, we won’t talk about it.”
She bowed her head. “Thank you.”
It was the bowed head that did Nick in. He just hated it when women tried to act pathetic around him. He knew better than most that females could adopt that posture for manipulative purposes at the drop of a damned hat. “Yeah. Sure.”
She frowned at him. “There’s no need to take that tone with me, Mr. Taggart.”
Before an all-out battle of words ensued, Mrs. Johnson entered the room and Nick had to stand up again. That’s what gentlemen did, or so his stepmother had taught him. He never did understand why; maybe so he could be available if one of the creatures fainted. Nevertheless, he liked Mrs. Johnson, so he stood.
“How do, Nicky?”
“I’m fine, thanks. You?”
“I’m just fine. Sit, sit,” she said, doing likewise.
“You should have let Charles go to school today, ma’am. How’s he going to get to be lauded as a hero if he can’t be around his friends?”
“Nicky Taggart, you’re really something, you know that?”
Nick only grinned.
“How about I pack up a picnic lunch, and you take Miss Gibb out to the lakes to see the scenery, Nicky. It’s about the only place around here that’s got any pretty at all to it.”
“Oh, please, Mrs. Johnson, don’t go to any trouble,” Eulalie cried before Nick could respond. He frowned at her.
Dammit, the lady had addressed the question to him, not her. “Uncle Junius suggested the same thing, Mrs. Johnson. That’s mighty nice of you to offer to pack a lunch.” He glared at Eulalie, daring her to contradict him.
She glared back. Figured. “Don’t be silly, Mr. Taggart. It’s entirely too much trouble for Mrs. Johnson.”
“Nonsense,” said Mrs. Johnson, who, from the expression on her face, was enjoying their little contretemps. Nick thought about glaring at her, too, but knew it would do no good. She knew him too damned well. “I think it’d be good for you to get out and about, Eulalie. You work too hard, and you’re never out in the daylight. A little sunshine will do you a world of good.” Her eyes had a mischievous twinkle in them when she turned to Nick. “And you, Nick Taggart. You need a day off. You work too hard, too.”
Nick said, “Huh.”
Eulalie said, “Well …”
Mrs. Johnson popped up from her chair. “Fine, then. It’s settled. I’ve already got sandwiches made.” And she bustled out of the room.
Still glaring, Eulalie said, “Honestly, Mr. Taggart, that woman has enough to do without packing picnic lunches for us!”
“She don’t mind.” Nick felt better about life now that he knew he was going to spend the day with Eulalie. Not, of course, that he admired her or anything. But if they were going to be bed partners, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to get better acquainted. He only wished she wasn’t such a thorny female. While her body was soft and lush, her personality was all spikes. Maybe Bernie had it right when he called her a cactus flower. He himself still thought of her as a prickly pear. On the other hand, all those barbs kept her interesting.
“Don’t you ever work?” Eulalie demanded.
The question surprised Nick. “Sure I do. Junius and I are the local blacksmiths. We work all the time.”
She sniffed. “I never see you working.”
“That’s because you only come out at night. Like a bat. Or a vampire.”
“Well, really!”
That line had been used on him so often, it only confirmed Nick in his opinion of females. Any time a fellow said something they couldn’t rebut, they’d say, well, really! in that snotty way. His faith in the ordered administration of the universe thereby restored, Nick sat back, content, and waited for Eulalie to get her traps together so they could ride out to the lakes.
* * * * *
The truth was, although Eulalie was loath to admit it, she was looking forward to spending the day with Nick Taggart. He was uncouth, true, and he didn’t treat her like a delicate flower, as did Lieutenant Fuller, but she liked him better than any of the other men she’d met in Rio Peñasco to date, perhaps because of that very prickliness to his nature. She sensed he wouldn’t lie to her, and Eulalie had good reason to value honesty.
They paid a visit to the smithy before setting out to the lakes. Eulalie had never seen a blacksmith at work before, and the sight of Junius at the forge made her think of Roman gods. She had a strange wish to view Nick Taggart there in his leather apron, bashing away at a horseshoe or a …
“What’s that thing your uncle is working on, Nick?”
“He’s pounding out a crick in the axle of that wagon.” He pointed at a disjointed wagon resting next to the building.
“He must be very strong,” Eulalie said, thinking Nick must be very strong, too. She was alarmed when a tiny thrill ran through her at the notion that some time in the not too far distant future, she’d be given the opportunity to investigate Nick’s strength on her own.
“Yeah, old Junius is as strong as an ox.” Nick grinned at his uncle, who winked at him as he pounded on the axle. Lifting it with some huge tongs, he held the strip of metal over the forge with one hand, wiped his sweating brow with a handkerchief held in his other hand, and said, “You two going to have a picnic?” He nodded at the basket Nick held.
“Yup. Just came by for the gig.”
“It’s where it always is,” said Junius. “And Claude’s out back, like he always is.”
Giving Junius a bright smile, Eulalie asked, “Who’s Claude?”
Nick answered her. “Claude’s our horse. He’s a lazy son of a gun, but he’ll work when he has to.”
Since he walked off, Eulalie waved at Junius and scurried after him. She rounded the corner of the building, saw a horse, and stopped in her tracks. “Good Lord! I’ve never seen such a huge horse in my life!”
With a grin, Nick said, “Claude’s big all right. He’s got to be, because sometimes Junius or I have to ride him. Either one of us would bust down a regular horse.”
“What kind of horse is it?” Eulalie’s knowledge of horses was severely limited.
“Belgian draft horse. They’re big.”
“If they’re all as big as that one, I’d say they’re huge.” In truth, Eulalie had never ridden a horse before and didn’t particularly want to. She’d always considered regular horses big and frightening. Claude was a blasted monster.
He seemed to be an amiable one, however. As soon as he spotted Nick at the fence, he trotted over, shaking the earth with each thud of a huge hoof. Eulalie didn’t want to get any nearer than she had to, but Nick gestured for her to come closer. She shook her head.
“Claude’s a friendly fellow. You’re not afraid of him, are you?”
Eulalie thought about lying and decided against it. What was the point? “Yes.”
Nick made a rude sound indicative of mockery. “I didn’t think you were afraid of anything, Miss Independence.”
Giving him an exasperated frown, Eulalie snapped, “Well, I’m afraid of horses, so now you know. Especially huge horses, like that one.”
She had to admit, if only to herself, however, that Claude, munching happily on the carrot Nick had given him, didn’t look as if he aimed to leap over the fence and trample her to death. In point of fact, he had a rather placid expression on his face—not that Eulalie knew the first thing about horses’ expressions.
“He’s a big baby,” said Nick. “Really. Come on over and get acquainted. Claude’s never snapped at anybody, and he’d rather sit up and beg than kick anyone.”
The mental image of that monstrous horse sitting up and begging, as her uncle Harry’s dog Ginger used to do, was too amusing for Eulalie. In spite of herself, she smiled. “Promise?”
“Yes.” Nick sounded exasperated. “I promise. For Pete’s sake, Eulalie, you don’t
think I’d sic a horse on you, do you? We have a bargain, remember? And I’m looking forward to cashing in on it.”
Eulalie felt her face flame. “Well, really!” she said for the second time that day. She couldn’t account for the sardonic expression that crossed Nick’s face.
She did, however, approach Claude. Cautiously. She kept her arms at her sides.
“Pet his nose. Just stroke it gently.”
“I don’t want to pet him.”
“Don’t hurt my horse’s feelings, Eulalie Gibb. Claude is very sensitive.”
She eyed him slantways, decided he was joking, and kept her arms down.
“Honest. He’s a nice horse. Here, give him a carrot. Hold it in the palm of your hand, like this.” He demonstrated. “That way, he won’t nibble a finger by accident.”
The notion of that giant animal chomping on her hand made Eulalie shudder. Nick noticed and heaved a sigh.
“Shoot, you’re one stubborn female, Miss Eulalie Gibb. You know that?”
“Nonsense. I just value my … fingers.”
“Huh.”
The sound of hoof beats behind them made Eulalie turn. She smiled when she saw the two lieutenants galloping into town.
Nick muttered, “Shit. Not fast enough.”
The two men pulled their mounts to a stop a few feet away from Nick and Eulalie. They didn’t do any fancy rearing stops today, a consideration for which Eulalie was grateful, since she didn’t care to be covered in dust any sooner than was absolutely necessary—and, since she now lived in Rio Peñasco, it would be necessary before the end of the day. She’d lived there long enough to understand that much.
“How-do, Miss Gibb,” said Lieutenant Fuller. “Nick.”
Nick said, “Hmm.”
“Ma’am,” said Lieutenant Nash, his face bright red. Eulalie didn’t know if it was because he was hot or because he was embarrassed. She also didn’t care a whole lot.
“You going to hitch that beast up to something, Nick, or are you just showing Miss Gibb the sights?” Lieutenant Fuller couldn’t have been said to sneer at Claude, but his face registered the closest thing to a sneer without producing one.
“Yes, as a matter of fact,” said Nick stonily. “I’m going to hitch him to the gig.”
“Oh? You two planning an excursion?”
Before Eulalie could confirm Lieutenant Fuller’s assumption, Nick said, “Yes, and you aren’t invited.”
Giving Nick a frown, Eulalie said to Lieutenant Fuller, “Mr. Taggart and I are going to see some lakes that I understand are nearby. Mrs. Johnson packed us a picnic.”
“And there’s only enough for two,” Nick added.
Eulalie got the impression that the lieutenant would have liked to tease Nick some more, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned to Eulalie. “I heard about what happened last night, ma’am, and I wanted to offer my condolences and to ask if there’s anything I can do for you.”
“She don’t need you,” grumbled Nick. “I’m taking care of her.”
“It never hurts to have more than one champion,” the lieutenant pointed out.
Eulalie thought he was nice to offer, even though he’d probably expect payment of one sort or another if she accepted. Again, almost against her will, she appreciated Nick Taggart’s basic honesty. Nick didn’t offer gallantry. He accepted a job. Since, however, she had Patsy to consider, she equivocated. “Thank you so much, Lieutenant Fuller. I don’t believe I need any other help at the moment. My sister will be coming to live with me soon, though, and it would be nice if a couple of brave, strong men like you two would keep an eye out for trouble.” She lowered her lashes and fluttered them once, knowing the lieutenants weren’t as cynical as Nick Taggart about such things. “I would certainly appreciate it.”
“We’d be happy to do that, ma’am,” said Nash, still red.
“Absolutely,” confirmed Fuller. “What’s your sister’s name, Miss Gibb?”
“Patsy. Patsy Gibb. She’ll be joining me soon.”
“But right now,” Nick said loudly, “we have to be getting on.”
“I thought you had to hitch up the horse first,” Fuller said sweetly. “Why don’t you do that, Nick? We’ll keep Miss Gibb amused in the meantime.”
Nick muttered, “Aw, hell.” But he led Claude out of the pasture and over to the barn where, Eulalie presumed, the gig was kept.
It didn’t take Nick long to hitch Claude to the two-wheeled gig, and Eulalie was glad when he drove it out to the little group still standing beside the fence. She liked the two lieutenants, but she’d rather be with Nick. She considered this a rather odd circumstance, but didn’t dwell on it.
Fuller helped her into the gig, Nick glowering at him the whole time. She smiled sweetly at the lieutenant. “Thank you so much.”
The lieutenant bowed grandly. “Any time, Miss Gibb.”
She waved her hanky at the two men as Nick clicked to Claude, and the gig took off in an easterly direction.
Nick said, “Asses.”
“They’re nice men,” Eulalie countered.
“Huh.”
Deciding to shelve that particular issue, Eulalie said, “How far are these lakes?”
“About five miles.”
“Ah. It shouldn’t take too long to get there, then.”
“Naw. About forty-five minutes.”
The ride was bumpy, and Eulalie held onto her hat with one hand and gripped the seat with the other, for fear one or the other would become dislodged and land on a cactus. She eyed the countryside with interest. For almost a month now, she’d been looking at what most people in town called nothing. As Nick guided the gig along the barely discernible path, she revised her own opinion slightly. True, it was rugged country. And there was precious little green anywhere. But the geological aspect of the desert was interesting, as it was broken here and there by deep crevices, some of which ran along for several yards, and looked as if the ground had cracked.
“What causes those enormous cracks in the earth, Nick?”
“Water.”
“Water?” Eulalie turned to see if he was joshing her. Didn’t look like it.
“Yeah. Come summer, we’ll have thunderstorms and flash floods. You don’t want to be caught in an arroyo during a rainstorm. Folks drown that way.”
“That’s difficult to imagine,” murmured Eulalie. “Not that I doubt you.”
“You’ll find out,” Nick said. It sounded more like a threat than a promise.
As they increased their distance from town, Eulalie noticed other signs of geological activity. “My goodness, what’s that long, flat thing?”
“Mescalero Ridge. It’s a little … ridge. A rock ridge.”
“It’s not visible from town,” Eulalie observed.
“That’s because we’re in a valley.”
Again, she turned to look at him. Again, he didn’t appear to be joking. “Seriously?”
His mouth kicked up into a one-sided grin. “You’d never know from looking, would you?”
“No,” she agreed. “You wouldn’t.”
“Come summer, you’ll wonder why they didn’t start building on higher ground. We’ll probably have at least one flood. Maybe more.”
“Good heavens. If Rio Peñasco is so prone to flooding, why didn’t they build on higher ground?”
Nick shrugged. “Maybe they founded the town in the wintertime. Or maybe they just couldn’t tell.”
As nonsensical as it sounded, Eulalie thought he’d probably hit on the reason. If one merely inspected the countryside with ones eyes, it all looked as flat as a pancake. It wasn’t until you got out in it that one began to notice slight rises and dips. “What a strange country. I’ve never seen anything so …” she tried to think of a word that couldn’t be taken as disparaging. “So harsh.” She didn’t think Nick could take exception to that.
“Reckon not, if you’re from New York or Chicago.”
Curious, Eulalie asked, “Where are you from, Nick?”
<
br /> “Galveston.”
“That’s in Texas, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “On the gulf.”
“Is it like this there?”
“Naw. It’s green and humid there. It’s on the Gulf of Mexico, so it gets some huge blows, too. Winds so hard, they knock down houses and ruin ships. After one storm, two boats ended up in our yard, and we didn’t live right on the water.”
“Good heavens. I’ve heard about terrible storms like that.”
“They’re no damned fun. That’s one of the reasons Junius moved out here.”
“Is that why you’re here, too?”
His mouth twisted into a grimace. “One of ‘em.”
Hmm. Interesting reaction. “Do you still have family there?”
“No.” He hesitated for a second, then amended his curt answer. “My pa’s dead. My stepmother and four stepsisters still live in Galveston.”
“I see. Do you miss them?”
He looked at her with such incredulity that Eulalie guessed the answer before he said, “No!” in a voice loud enough to make Claude twitch his ears and Eulalie jump slightly on the seat.
“There’s no need to shout,” she muttered.
“You don’t know my stepmother and stepsisters,” he said grimly. “If you did, you’d shout too.”
“Hmm. I get the feeling I understand where your distrust of women originated.”
“I don’t distrust all women. I just don’t … trust ‘em.”
“There’s a difference?”
“Yeah. I like women, as long as I’m not involved with them.” He slanted her a glance. “On a permanent basis, I mean.”
“Perhaps you haven’t been involved with the right women.” Eulalie didn’t know why she felt an urge to defend her sex. She knew as well as anyone that most women, because of the nature of the injustice by which the world ran, had no option but to manipulate men in order to get what they needed or wanted out of life. Her own experience had been vastly different from that of the bulk of her sisters. Her family honored all its members as valuable participants in the acting game. They had to.
And still the women in her family couldn’t vote. Unfairness, which Eulalie had been very much aware of in recent months, attacked her and made her bridle.
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