A Man's Heart (31 page)

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Authors: Lori Copeland

BOOK: A Man's Heart
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Chapter 42

W
hen Jules pulled up at the Delgado farm, Crystal asked, “What did they say when you told them we're coming?” The rambling farmhouse looked peaceful, probably for the last time in a good long time. Tractors and equipment sat silent; a couple of dogs lay on the back step.

“I didn't tell them.”

“They don't
know
they're about to become full-time fathers?”

Killing the engine, Jules shrugged. “No. I figure if they're going to be fathers they need to get used to schedule upheavals.” The exploding noxious fumes that rose from Olivia's diapers would be a good test of their parental dedication. No more using a straightened coat hanger to dispose of stinky diapers. They'd now be working hands-on with their charges.

She rolled her shoulders, trying to work out the stiffness. Cruz's truck was sitting near the house. At least one of the Delgados was home. Climbing out of the cab, Jules said, “Hold on. I'll tell them we're here.”

By now Cruz had stepped to the side door and peered out,
a cup of steaming coffee in his hand. A moment later the door opened. “What's going on?” His eyes noted the new Ford.

“We brought the children over.”

Frowning, his gaze traced her steps. “It's not our day to keep them.”

“I know, but Crystal and I have decided that the children belong to you and Adan. The accident proved that you have their best interests at heart when you put your life on the line for them.”

“You're dropping the suit?”

“I'll swing by the lawyer's office when I leave here. Where do you want their things?”

For the first time in her life she witnessed Cruz Delgado at a loss for words. He set his cup of coffee on a ledge. Speechless.

She peered around him. “Where's Adan?”

“Still asleep.”

Jules checked her watch. “It's almost nine o'clock.” “Yeah—well the harvest's over and he's catching up on some shut-eye.”

She turned and motioned for Crystal. “Bring them in!”

“Hey … hold on —”

She pretended not to hear his protest. The convoy started. Luggage. Toys. Various tricycles and Big Wheels. Cruz's dark eyes fixed on the alarming procession.

Two children, one bearing a diaper that would rival the Pasco landfill.

Jules deposited Olivia in Cruz's arms and then bent to kiss her. “Uncle Cruz is going to take care of you for awhile, sweetie. I love you.”

Olivia held out her hand and wiggled her fingers. The action broke her heart but she knew once the men settled into
their roles, they could do the job or kill their pride and admit they needed help.

Stepping aside, Jules made room for Crystal to say her good-byes.

Kissing each child, Crystal then drew them to her chest and held them for an overly long time.

Cruz found his voice. “Hey, look, ladies.” He held Olivia out for breathing distance. Jules had to admit that this was one foul-smelling diaper. “Shouldn't we have planned this …?”

“No.” Jules straightened. “Right's right. Sophie said when I felt the time was right that I should hand them over. Today, I feel it's right.”

“I'm still partially broke—”

“But you're well on your way to financial stability. Crops in, life can settle down a little. By spring planting you should have this father thing down to a science. I don't want to add anything to the Parkers' case to claim them. If you and Adan have them, the courts can't deny that the kids are where Sophie wants them.” Jules reached and gave his shoulder a friendly reassuring pat. “If we can help, don't hesitate to give us a call — and did I mention that Olivia is on this insane kick of waking up in the middle of the night? She won't go back to sleep until she's fed, but if you'll feed her something warm — milk, oatmeal, anything but junk, she'll eventually drop off.”

She turned and nodded to Crystal. “Ready?”

With one last hug for each child, Crystal walked back to the truck.

As the two women drove out of the yard, Crystal turned to peer out the back window. Jules glanced in the rearview mirror to see Cruz holding Olivia, Ethan beside him, surrounded by luggage and Big Wheels. Tears welled to her eyes.

Crystal glanced at her. “Olivia isn't waking up in the middle of the night.”

Jules wheeled out of the driveway. “I know.”

“But you told Cruz …”

“I'm just messing with his head.”

“That's a
terrible
thing to do after dropping two small children in his lap.” Crystal turned back, and crossed her arms. “I don't know how the man puts up with you.”

“That's the point. He doesn't.”

“You're either feisty or just plain mean.”

“Yeah,” Jules agreed. “I fear a little of both.”

On the way home, they rode in stony silence. Jules should feel a little guilty about the sudden change of heart, and she supposed that she did, a tiny bit, but not enough to change her mind.

Unfortunately, a man's heart was a bit hard to tame. And what she'd just done was downright mean but necessary. If she were to ever open Cruz's eyes to his need for her, it was now. She risked a last glance in the rearview mirror, confident the children would be back within a few days.

Chapter 43

S
omeone more profound than Jules once said: Life was like a leaf. Sometimes it was beautiful, exploding with color. Other times it was green, filled with life. Then at others the once beautiful, green thing died. And then it was barren for a season.

Jules felt as though she had entered her barren season. Without the children to care for, or potatoes to harvest, or the perfect potato experiment, her life was a brittle branch. Crystal visited the kids weekly — sometimes two or three times, but Jules steered clear of the Delgados and The Grille. Old behavior dies hard, and loving Cruz for most of her life wasn't an easy habit to break, but she was determined to break it.

She questioned Crystal daily about the Parkers' quest, but her sister said the matter was still under discussion. She couldn't imagine Cruz considering the proposal, but then she would have thought that he would have brought the children back by now, which he hadn't.

“They're thriving,” Crystal told her. “Happy as I've ever seen them.”

There was little Jules could do about that, but she was determined to put a stop to insincere suitors who wanted her for nothing more than her magic potato plant that would not, and never could, materialize. Like Cruz's love, the perfect potato was not destined to be.

She took out a front page ad in the
Community Gazette
stating her defeat:

Jules Matias's experimental potato research has been discontinued. Only God can create a perfect potato. Ms. Matias plans to abandon the study and turn her thoughts to new and inventive ways to fertilize tubers with less cost and manpower.

Surely the speculators would back off now.

Later that week, Crystal began preparations for returning to Florida. If Jules thought the house was quiet without the children, once Crystal left she knew that she would be living in a mausoleum.

“Why don't you come with me,” her sister invited for the third time.

“What would I do in Florida?” Jules lay on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. An odd sort of despondency settled over her.

“I don't know—lie in the sun? Swim? Shop? Enjoy the incredible sea food?”

“I can do all of that here.”

Crystal turned to stare at her. “Look at you. You haven't gotten dressed in two days.”

“For what? I have nowhere to go. The potato bins are full, and Joe's taking care of the farm.”

“Honestly? You seem a little down.”

She scratched her hair. She needed to shower and shampoo.

Two days on the sofa did do a job on a person. “Down?” She rolled to her back. “I'm not down.”

Packing a couple pairs of jeans, Crystal eyed her. “Why not come and help me? My assistant needs time to prepare to go back to college. Let Joe run the farm, and you come to Florida with me. You can lie in the sun while I run the shop. Get a taste of my life.”

“I don't want to go to Florida. I have too much to do around here.”

“Like what?”

“Like, help Joe. Invent cheap fertilizer.”

“Joe doesn't need any help, and fertilizers can wait. Get up, take a shower, wash that hair, pack your bag and come with me.”

“Nah. Too much effort.” Jules rolled to her side, staring at the television. “Are there any of those old
Beverly Hillbillies
reruns on?”

Sighing, Crystal picked up the phone. “I'm booking a ticket for you on my flight.”

Jules rolled to her back. Great. A bumpy, hair-raising flight. Just what she wanted.

Friday morning Jules trailed her sister to the check-in line. In her hand she carried a coach ticket to Fort Walton, Florida. From there, they'd take a cab to Crystal's shell shop in Destin. In the end, Crystal had convinced her that she owed it to Mom to glimpse her life “after Pop.” Jules, having nothing more to do than yawn, finally relented to one week. One week of sun and fun. She needed a year.

The Gulf of Mexico sparkled like a large green gem in the sunlight. Clear, tranquil: thousands of miles away from Washington State, potatoes and heartache.

The quaint shell shop with living quarters in the back perked her spirits. Like Crystal, there was placidness to the surroundings. Relaxing, tranquil. By the second morning when Jules sat outside the small residence sipping Crystal's special blend of herbal tea and watching porpoises leap and play in the water, she decided her sister had her best interest at heart when she'd bought that airline ticket. Here, her troubles felt less intrusive, if Cruz could ever be intrusive.

She sighed, amazed at how well he and Adan were handling full-time fatherhood. The big goons had taken to the position like women to chocolate.

An ache settled around her heart when she thought about Ethan and Olivia. She missed the little imps. She missed Sophie. She missed Pop.
Lord, they say that bad things come in threes. If it's possible, may I avoid a number four?

Crystal wandered out to join her. Out here, they could listen for the bell over the door, and enjoy the lazy morning. “Enjoying the view?”

Jules closed her eyes and drank in the sea air. Gulls swooped and dipped overhead. Egrets raced across the sand on spindly legs. “You were right. This is exactly what I needed. I can see why you and Mom love it here.”

“Yes.” She took a chaise next to Jules. “The sea brings me closer to God.”

“How so?”

“Maybe its power? I'm reminded how big and wondrous this world is.”

Yes, God was large and powerful. The thought had been
with her since she arrived. The sea, the waters. At night she watched the stars come out — so many thousands. A falling star reminded her of how Sophie used to say that it was a soul on its way to heaven.

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