Cactus Flower

by Duncan, Alice

  “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 n
ot 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.”

  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.