“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.
“Sometimes I wonder about that,” said Patsy softly. “If I’d only been more firm with Mr. Blankenship when he first started coming around, perhaps none of this would have happened.”
“The man’s a lunatic, Patsy. It wouldn’t have mattered what you did,” Eulalie said firmly. She didn’t want her sister to sink into a melancholic state. This was going to be hard enough on the both of them without having to battle bleak and wintry moods.
“Do you really think so?”
“Yes. I really think so.”
Patsy sat with a sigh, her chair, too, facing west. “Perhaps you’re right.” She gazed into the firmament for a moment or two. The sun was low on the western horizon, and the clouds piling up in the deep-blue sky were edged with silver. The clouds themselves ranged from light pink to brilliant orange in streaks and slashes. “Oh, my, the sky is wonderful, isn’t it?”
“It’s the most beautiful sky I’ve ever seen. It’s always beautiful.” Eulalie hesitated, then added, “It sort of makes up for the landscape.”
Patsy’s low chuckle made her glad she’d said it. “Yes. I see what you mean, although I must say it’s not as bad as I’d expected.”
“Really?” Turning to assess the truthfulness of her sister’s statement, Eulalie was surprised to find that Patsy appeared content.
“Really.”
The sisters sat in silence, watching the western sky’s landscape change as they observed it. Eulalie felt a strange sense of peace pervade her being. For so many months, she’d been tense and worried and anxious. The move to Rio Peñasco, for all her outer bravado, had been terrifying. The wide-open spaces she’d heard so much about had made her feel insignificant, as if she might be swallowed whole and no one the wiser if she weren’t careful. She’d been frightened of the huge men she’d encountered here—starting with Junius Taggart and Nicholas Taggart—and she’d been terribly concerned that the ladies in the town would shun her because of her occupation.
But she’d discovered soon enough that the ladies in town were starved for companionship and new stories, and that the Taggarts and most of the other fellows in town might be rough around the edges, but they were good, decent people. In fact, although her heart ached when she admitted it, she loved one of them very much. And she was becoming accustomed to the vastness of the landscape. She didn’t feel nearly as lost as she had when she first arrived. In fact, she had a funny feeling that she might find the tall buildings and constant trees of her home state of New York a little confining now.
She was lost in contemplation of the sky, which was rapidly losing its color, when Nick showed up. His approach was virtually silent, something of a miracle for so large a fellow. Eulalie presumed he’d seen Patsy and her in the backyard, because he didn’t knock at the front door, but just appeared before them. His arrival was unexpected, and gave Patsy something of a start. Eulalie reached out and took her hand.
“It’s only Nick, Patsy,” she said softly.
“Sorry, ma’am. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Oh, no, Mr. Taggart, please don’t apologize. I’d only been so lost in the sunset I didn’t hear you approach.”
“You ladies mind some company?”
Eulalie was a little surprised that Nick seemed ill at ease. She’d never seen evidence of anything other than pure masculine dominance from this quarter.
“I’m sure we would be happy for some company,” Patsy said softly.
She’d averted her face, not that Nick could see her very well in the dark. But Eulalie knew that the moon and stars would soon be out, and then the night would be bright enough for Nick to discern Patsy’s scars. Her heart gave another twang.
“Why don’t you bring out another chair, Nick? You can set it here, next to me.” That would put him a whole person away from Patsy and make her sister feel slightly less uncomfortable. Besides, she wanted to feel him near her. She was absolutely lost, she thought glumly. She was in love with a man who not only disparaged marriage as an institution, but who didn’t have a very high opinion of women, either.
“Be right back,” he said, and vanished into the kitchen.
“He’s very nice, isn’t he?” said Patsy after Nick left.
“Yes,” said Eulalie, surprising herself. “He is.” How she’d misjudged him at first, she couldn’t imagine. She supposed she’d been so full of fear and trepidation, it had taken a while to allow herself the luxury of evaluating him by his actions. She’d been so determined not to be taken advantage of that she’d mistrusted everyone she met. She knew Nick had resented it, too.
With a sigh, she wished they could start over again, and this time get off on the right foot together. But, as she knew too well, life didn’t work that way.
Nick placed his chair beside hers, and before she realized what she was doing she reached out for his hand. “Thanks for visiting, Nick. Would you like something to drink?” Since this wasn’
t New York or Chicago, the “something to drink” would have to be water, but Nick already knew that.
“No, thanks. Just thought I’d come over to see how you ladies are settling in.” He gave her hand a soft squeeze, and Eulalie felt better about things.
“Everyone has been very kind to me,” said Patsy. “And I can’t thank you enough for the lovely house you built for Eulalie and me, Mr. Taggart.”
“Aw, it was nothing,” said Nick.
Eulalie believed he actually meant that. How odd that two men in Rio Peñasco, New Mexico Territory, could build an entire house in a couple of weeks and think nothing of it. When she considered how many people it took to build houses back home, and how long it took them to do so, her mind almost boggled.
As the sky darkened and the moon and stars began to shine, Patsy’s reaction to the glories of these territorial heavens was everything Eulalie had anticipated. Nick continued to hold her hand, which she hadn’t anticipated, but which she appreciated.
“My goodness,” Patsy whispered. “I’ve never seen so many stars in my life.”
“It’s astonishing, isn’t it?” Eulalie laughed gently.
“It certainly is.”
“Guess I’m used to it,” said Nick. “But it’s real pretty.”
In the distance a coyote yipped.
“What’s that?” Patsy sounded wary.
“Coyote,” said Nick. “There’s lot of ‘em out there on the desert.”
“Oh, my, I’ve heard of coyotes,” said Patsy.
“Kind of a lonely sound, if you ask me,” said Nick. “But maybe that’s my own fancy.”
“I don’t think so,” said Eulalie. “They always make me shiver a little bit.” She thought of something Patsy might enjoy. “Wait until you see the owls out here, Patsy. They’re little spotted brown things, and they dig their nests in the ground.”
“In the ground?” Patsy sounded as though she suspected Eulalie of teasing her.
“Yup,” said Nick, taking over for Eulalie. “They’re screech owls.”
“That’s right,” agreed Eulalie. “None of your civilized hooting for these fellows. I made the mistake of walking up to an owl’s burrow, and got screeched at for my efforts. What’s more, the owl then dived at me and bumped my head. They have rather sharp talons.”
“Good heavens.”
“I suspect he was protecting his young. It’s that time of year, when the owlets hatch,” said Nick.
“True,” said Eulalie.
“Reckon this is kind of rough country,” Nick said, sounding slightly defensive to Eulalie’s sensitive ears. “But I think those owls have the right idea. Too bad more human pas don’t care enough to protect their kids.”
Both sisters turned to look at Nick. Eulalie couldn’t see him well, but she noticed the set of his jaw and wondered if his own childhood experience had given him a certain respect for the bloodthirsty nature of a father owl’s protective instincts toward his young. Her heart ached a little, and she felt a compulsion to reassure him. “It is rough, but it’s … oh, I don’t know. I think it’s marvelous, too. It’s certainly not an easy country. Every plant has thorns, and every creature is poisonous or has claws or something. But you get used to it after a while. In fact, I’ve come to like it a lot.”
“I’m glad,” said Patsy.
“And I agree with you about some human fathers.” Her brain had begun recalling and sorting through instances of human fathers’ insensitivity to the welfare of their children. She’d seen it often enough in New York, and even out here, although to a lesser extent. She spared a moment to be grateful for her own male relatives, all of whom, except perhaps her cousin Josiah Gibb, who drank to excess, were responsible and caring individuals. “As for the land, I think it’s funny that most of the native plants and creatures are either poisonous or full of spikes. I love it, but you have to be careful. We have scorpions, tarantulas, rattlesnakes, perfectly hideous insects called vinegarones, coyotes, and even the occasional cougar.”
“Goodness, what a dismal topic of conversation,” muttered Patsy.
Eulalie sensed her uneasiness, and decided she probably shouldn’t have pointed out the relative harshness of Patsy’s new home and the callous natures of some men. To make up for it, she said, “But the people here are wonderful. They make up for the … er, hardness of the country.”
Nick wished she hadn’t mentioned hardness. The only reason he’d come over here tonight was because he’d been in a state of semi-arousal all day long, and it was mighty uncomfortable. He’d been hoping maybe Patsy would be sleeping by this time. Glancing over to see if he might catch a glimpse of a yawn or another indication of impending exhaustion, he was startled when the moonlight revealed a terrible scar on her cheek. He turned away again instantly, but his heart had suffered a severe spasm. He hated when it did that. This was especially true since he’d been doing his very best since his sixteenth year to harden that organ against the manipulations of the female of the species.
He wasn’t sure how Eulalie’s sister’s terrible scar could constitute manipulation, but he’d learned a long time ago to view all indications of feminine weakness with deep suspicion. Still, he wondered how she’d got that scar. Eulalie had told him Patsy had been involved in an accident. Could she have fibbed to him? It seemed mighty unlikely that a scar like that had been inflicted accidentally—unless hers was a circus family. That possibility hadn’t occurred to him until now. Hmm …
“Say,” he said casually, “you said your family acts, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” said Eulalie.
“Indeed.” Nick heard the smile in Patsy’s voice.
“Do any of them do any circus work?”
“Circus work?” Eulalie sounded puzzled. “You mean like trapeze acts and things like that?”
He was actually thinking of knife-throwers, but he said, “Yeah. Bareback riding. Sword swallowing. That sort of thing.” He supposed a sword might account for that scar, but the notion gave him the shivers.
“No.”
He glanced over once more and saw that both sisters were shaking their heads. Which meant they were either telling the truth or lying. Which also meant that, as usual, he didn’t know what to believe.
Damn it! He wished like thunder that females weren’t so damned difficult to interpret.
“Ah,” said he. “Just wondered. When I was a boy, I wanted to run away and join the circus.” He’d wanted to run away, at any rate.
“I understand that’s a common ambition among little boys,” said Eulalie.
“I suppose so.”
He heard a rustling sound and turned to see Patsy rising from her chair. She kept her face averted from his vision, and again his heart crunched painfully. However she’d received that awful scar, it embarrassed her. Poor thing.
Unless she’d deserved it, he reminded himself. Even as he did so, he knew he was being irrational. Nobody deserved to be hurt like that. The Gibb girls might be female, but so far they hadn’t exhibited the demonic attributes his stepmother and stepsisters had possessed in such abundance. He was still withholding judgment, but he sensed Patsy was more to be pitied than blamed for whatever accident had befallen her.
“I think I’m going to go to bed now,” said Patsy, patting a yawn. Nick suspected she’d actually lifted her hand to hide that scar.
Eulalie rose, too. “Do you need any help, Patsy? I know you’ve had a difficult day.”
“No, thank you. I’m fine.” She hesitated for a moment, then Nick saw her straighten her shoulders, as if she were bracing herself for an ordeal to come. He realized he was the ordeal when she turned, faced him directly, and held out her hand to him. “I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Taggart, for helping Eulalie and me. You’ve been wonderful. And so has your uncle.”
He rose and took her hand. “It was nothing, Miss Gibb. Truly. Junius and I were glad to help.”
After another couple of pleasantries, and after Patsy refused to allow Eulalie to follow
her into the house (“For heaven’s sake, Eulalie, you can’t leave your guest.”) Nick and Eulalie were alone at last under the starshine and moondust. Nick gazed up into the night sky and a sense of infinity enveloped him. For all the suffering people caused each other, the cold, sparkling universe didn’t give a rap. Men were such fools—and women were, too—to think they mattered much when compared to all that up there.
Neither of them spoke for a few minutes. Then Nick’s curiosity got the better of him. Softly, he said, “Is that scar on your sister’s cheek the result of her accident?”
He heard Eulalie sigh before she spoke. “Yes. She’s very sensitive about it. It is awfully noticeable, isn’t it?”
“Well …” he thought about lying, and decided against it. Eulalie Gibb was the only woman he’d ever met who didn’t need to be pacified with soothing fibs. “Yeah, it’s noticeable, but it doesn’t detract from her looks any.” He thought that sounded crude, so he muttered, “If you know what I mean.”
He was surprised when Eulalie reached for his hand. “I do know what you mean, Nick. Thank you.”
Feeling a little unequal to her gratitude, he shrugged. “It’s the truth. I’m … sorry it happened, but she’s still a beautiful woman.” Just like you, he silently added to himself.
“Yes. She is, isn’t she?” Eulalie was clearly pleased by his assessment, and that made him feel better. After a moment, she added more softly, “But the scar on her face is only one of them. She has other scars on her body. Not to mention her soul.”
“She does?” Nick was horrified to hear it. The story behind Patsy’s so-called accident was beginning to sound less accidental with every piece of information Eulalie leaked to him. “What kind of accident was it, anyhow?”
Eulalie hesitated, and for a second or three Nick thought she might actually tell him. He was disappointed when she only said, “We don’t like to talk about it.”
“Guess I can’t blame you for that,” he growled, although it was the truth.
“It was horrid,” said Eulalie somewhat defensively. “We didn’t think Patsy would survive for a long time.”
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