A Man's Heart (26 page)

Jules awoke to see the sun fully risen, a bright ball in the blue sky. Getting up, she stretched, blew a kiss to the wind and left.

When she drove into the farm lot, she heard the familiar hum of potato diggers in the fields. Tons of russets piled up to twenty feet were going into storage. Joe was backing out of the equipment shed when she stopped him. Killing the engine, he smiled. “How's Cruz?”

“Two non-displaced rib fractures. He's in a lot of pain. Can you pull a couple of men out of the fields and send them over to the Delgados' place? Adan will be short of manpower for the next few weeks.”

Joe tipped his hat. “Sure thing.” He restarted the tractor and drove off as Jules proceeded into the house.

Crystal glanced up from the ironing board. “How's —”

“He's doing great.” Jules headed for the shower to wash off the landfill stench. “The kids okay?”

“They're playing house in the backyard. Ethan hates it.” Crystal unplugged the iron and trailed after her. “I'm going to give fifteen percent of my windfall to the church.”

Jules peeled out of her dirty blouse. “That's admirable of you.”

“I'm going to donate a new church wing in Lucille's memory.”

Jules reached to turn on the shower. “Does Reverend Williams know?”

“I spoke to him a few minutes ago. He was ecstatic.”

“The church has needed more room for years.” Jules turned. “That's very good of you, Crystal.”

“It's isn't my money. It's the Lord's anyway, and he saw fit to use it through Lucille. I'm sure she would be very happy. Want something to eat?”

“Thanks, but I need to get to the fields.”

“Okay.” Crystal left, closing the bathroom door behind her. Jules climbed into the shower, letting the warm water soothe her aching bones.

Cruz began the healing process. Adan drove him home from the hospital and Jules went with Crystal to deliver a chocolate cake.

“All of this for me?” Cruz asked. “You remembered that I love chocolate fudge cake?”

“I didn't.” Crystal glanced at Jules. “A little bird reminded me. A very thoughtful little wren.”

He turned to focus on Jules. “Well, thank the little wren for me. I'll enjoy this.”

Over the next two weeks, Jules happened to remember that he favored macaroni and cheese, pork chops, fried round steak and cauliflower with cheese sauce. He accepted each offering with an easy grin, and twice she and Crystal had stayed to eat dinner with the Delgado brothers.

As yet, Jules hadn't mentioned her plans to turn the children's care completely over to Cruz and Adan. Right now, harvest occupied Adan's mind, and Cruz wasn't up to caring for two small children, but she had told Crystal about her decision, and her sister had the expected reaction.

“I think that's how it should have been all along.”

Jules knew how close Crystal had grown to the children, and at times, especially lately, it seemed Crystal and Adan spent an inordinate amount of time together. Crystal was a born nurturer, and the kids and Adan deserved nurturing. A recurring thought begin to nag her: what if Crystal and Adan up and married? They could easily do so. That would solve everyone's problem and create an ideal solution. Yet in the back of her mind she had one last resort; make a complete fool of herself. And soon if she retained any hope of fulfilling Sophie's wish.

J
ules had lost complete control over her life; the recognition hit her like a prodigal homing pigeon coming home to roost this morning. Pop's death. Sophie. Cruz hurt. She was fighting emotions and Cruz at the same time. She had no control over events. She'd known that — hadn't she? She didn't control anything. She was trying to swallow the bitter reality pill. The void Pop and Sophie left was bottomless. Every day she felt their absence more — experienced numerous times throughout the day when it would hit her; she would never see Pop or Sophie again — not this side of heaven.

Frustration overtook her; a feeling she lived with daily now. How easy it was to talk of faith, hope, and a better tomorrow when you're up to your ears in life's muck. She flipped on the turn signals, intent on stopping at the small gas station for milk on the way home. The children went through gallons a week.

She spotted an old Ford pick-up, dents on both back fenders. It resembled the farm truck she was driving but it was Tom Spicer's old truck. A bunch of young guys from the area got together at Old Tom's place every week to ride some of
his bulls for practice. She'd heard about the Thursday night buck-out sessions — even knew a couple of young men who participated.

A grin formed. She'd never forget the time she and Sophie decided to meet Black Devil, one of Tom's prize stock, in person. The bull was old now, but in his day he was a ringer. He'd since sired many an offspring and every one got tougher to ride. Sophie and Jules's junior year in high school, Jules had decided to check Black Devil out on his own turf. Joe and Pop would never let her go near the animal at the area rodeos, and certainly not at the annual rodeo where Black Devil was the star attraction, but she'd longed to conquer that cantankerous animal since the day he had pinned her to a fence.

She wasn't supposed to be in Tom's field where he kept the bull, but in those days boundaries were meant to be broken. One summer night prior to Sophie and Jules's junior year of high school, they climbed Tom's fence, hopped into the pasture and taunted Black Devil until Sophie lost her nerve and ran for safety. Jules hadn't been so quick to back off. Black Devil cornered her between the fence post and the gate, head down, hoof pawing the ground. He looked mean as Lucifer and twice as big from this distance.

“Get away from me, you devil,” she'd yelled, screwing her sixteen-year-old face into a no-nonsense scowl.

The bull's head dipped lower. He snorted.

“Sophie,” she'd squeaked. “Help me!”

Sophie whooped and yelled, beating on the steel gate, trying to divert the beast.

“Shush!” Jules knew if Tom or Pop knew they were in the field, there'd be a stiff price to pay.

Sophie quieted. “What'll we do?”

“I don't know. We have to stay calm. Pop will ground me for weeks if he knows I've trespassed on Tom's property.”

“Looks to me like Black Devil is going to skin you alive first.”

“Go get Joe.”

“Okay.”

“No, wait. Joe will tell Pop. Get someone.”

“Okay.”

“No, wait! What if Black Devil charges me? I'd be here, lying hurt, nobody to help. You better not leave.”

“Okay.”

“No, leave! Go get somebody!”

By this time Sophie was literally ringing her hands. Jules eased a step sideways and the bull snorted, pawing his hoof.

The stand-off continued for three hours; three long, excruciating hours. The sun sank, darkness covered the field. The stars came out. A light breeze blew Sophie's blouse as she clung to the outside of the fence, keeping watch. Neither girl could think of a way out of the predicament without alerting their parents or nosy neighbors on what they had done.

They decided to pray. They'd taken shifts. Sophie first and then Jules. Jules had gone through every plea she could think of and still Black Devil's hostile eyes pinned her, kept her imprisoned. The pleas momentarily ceased while they shared a Snicker's bar Sophie found in her purse. And then the prayers resumed. Sophie was now reciting the Lord's Prayer over and over. That day was the first time Jules truly became sold on prayer. For no reason at all, Black Devil finally tired of the game and wandered off.

Faint with relief, Jules climbed over the fence and dropped to safety. Sophie slumped to the grassy knoll beside her and
the girls lay prone, arms outstretched, sucking in deep drafts of air.

“Do you think it was prayer that did it?” “Had to be,” Sophie decided. “We'll have to do that more often.”

Jules caught back a laugh as memories swept her. Sophie was always quick to pray after that; sometimes the prayers weren't appropriate requests but God must have known the hearts of two young girls were pure with naiveté.

She pulled into the convenience store, changed her mind about the milk, and then wheeled back out on the highway.
Okay, God. You've taken Sophie—now take me.
Jules had never once dared God to do anything, but the dismal, cloudy day made her long for happier times. She might not be able to control her life, but she could fulfill a dream. And if God saw fit, he'd ease her ache.

Tom was prone to linger, talk with the regulars at the gas stop. He wouldn't be home for awhile. The truck headed to Spicer's place, about a mile down the road. He had two hundred acres he worked but not that often. Old Tom was a bit on the lazy side, but he didn't have an enemy in the world, and he owned some of the best bull stock in the community.

Ten minutes later she pulled in beside a fenced corral where the bull riders were already gathered. Killing the engine, she stepped out of the truck, greeting a couple of guys by name. Patrick Whitson walked over to the truck, grinning. “Hey, Jules.”

“Hey, Patrick.”

The young, stocky built twenty-two-year-old with blond hair and nut brown skin grinned. “What brings you to these parts?”

“Thought I might try my hand at bull riding.”

Patrick's grin folded. “Not a chance.”

“Yep.” She straightened, feeling at the moment invincible. If God wanted to take her, he would. “Always wanted to try my luck at bull riding, and I figure tonight's the perfect time.” Her gaze focused on the corral and one particular bull. Black Devil, large as life. He was dark and rangy, not as muscled as he used to be. She nearly felt sorry for the old guy. But his eyes were still wild and he still snorted like he could rip her apart. Her gaze shifted to the animal beside him. “That's one of Black Devil's offspring, isn't it?”

Patrick turned to trace her gaze. He focused on a young bull, sleek, heavily muscled. Mean. “Yeah. That's one of his boys.”

“Can I ride him?”

Patrick laughed. “I don't think so. Leastways, none of us has been able to.”

“I want to ride him.”

He let out a hoot. “Hey, guys! Jules wants to ride The Terminator!”

Several laughs broke out, but a couple of the men sobered. One spoke up. “She can't ride that animal. He'd tear her apart.”

“Come on, Jules. Cruz would shoot me point blank if I let you ride that animal.” Patrick shifted his stance. Jules knew she was putting him in a bind. Patrick and Cruz were buddies, but Cruz didn't run her life, and she'd known Patrick about the same length of time that Cruz had, so in her eyes that made them even up on loyalty.

“Then we won't mention this to Cruz. Okay?” Her expression softened. “Come on, guys.” She confronted the men's
somber faces. “Haven't you ever had a dream you wanted to live? Mine has been to ride Black Devil once, and now he's too old. Let me have a go at The Terminator. I'll take full responsibility for my actions.”

Activity had ceased. Men stood around watching the exchange. Jules knew she had Patrick between a rock and a hard place. Cruz would be furious if Patrick let her ride the bull and he found out.

Scratching the back of his neck, Patrick appeared to mull the thought over. “I don't know—what do you think, guys?”

“I say The Terminator will eat her for lunch.”

Several agreed with a decisive nod. Protests broke out, then naysayers.

A young man Jules didn't know spoke up. “I say she can take him.”

Stunned expressions sought to identify the voice. The kid grinned. “I have twenty bucks that says she can ride him.”

Bills started appearing. “I got twenty-five that says she won't last three seconds.”

“Thirty over here! I'll give her three and a half seconds.”

And the ride was on. Jules called above the fray, “I don't want this to turn into a gambling frenzy! I just want to ride The Terminator!”