Read Cactus Flower Online

Authors: Alice Duncan

Cactus Flower (18 page)

      
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?”

      
“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.

      
“I
doubt that’s the answer,” he grumbled.

      
That
was enough for Eulalie. “And exactly why do you think that is, Mr.
Nicholas Taggart?” she demanded. “You claim that the women in your
family—
all
women, according to you—are sly, manipulative
creatures who, through evil means, make men do what they want them to
do. Well, what do you
expect
from an entire population that’s
rendered helpless, both socially and politically? How else can women
achieve justice in this ridiculous world except through
men
.
We can’t vote. We can’t hold office. We can’t be police officers.
We can’t own property in some states and territories. We can’t even
keep our children if the men in our families turn out to be brutal drunkards
and we try to escape! If the women in your family discovered that the
only way they could survive in the world was to get you to do things
for them, can you blame them?”

      
Her
vehemence must have startled Nick, because he looked at her as if he’d
never seen her before. Naturally, this reaction on his part fueled Eulalie’s
ire.

      
“Don’t
look at me that way! It’s the truth! Do you know that if a man stalks
a woman, like prey, and then brutally attacks her, he’ll get a slap
on the wrist from the authorities? Did you know that if a woman complains
to the authorities because a man is threatening her, she’ll be treated
as if
she
were the crazy party or, worse, as if she
encouraged
the monster? Do you realize that—” She broke off suddenly, worried
that she’d said too much.

      
His
brow creased as he frowned. “Is that what happened to you, Eulalie?
Did your husband hit you?”

      
Honestly
startled that anyone, even someone who, like Nick, had never met her
late husband, Eulalie said, “Edward? Good heavens, no! Why, Edward
was the gentlest creature alive.” In fact, although she didn’t say
so, if he’d been alive when Patsy had her trouble, he probably wouldn’t
have been a whole lot of help. Even thinking such a thing seemed disloyal,
so she ruthlessly shoved the notion aside.

Other books

The Lord of Illusion - 3 by Kathryne Kennedy
Bleeding Heart Square by Andrew Taylor
Totally Spellbound by Kristine Grayson
Death Kit by Susan Sontag
Translation of Love by Montalvo-Tribue, Alice
I Am Her Revenge by Meredith Moore
The Way We Were by Marcia Willett
So Little Time by John P. Marquand