A Man's Heart (13 page)

“I need to call Crystal and tell her what's going on.” Jules rummaged through her purse for her cell phone. First try,
there was no signal. She had to walk partway down the corridor to get a bar on her phone.

when she returned, she recoiled at the sight that met her. Both brothers, hat in hand, staring at the waiting room floor. The sobriety in Cruz's dark features broke her heart. She sat down beside him.

He glanced up. “Did you get her?”

“Yes, she's putting the children to bed. I told her I'd call when we knew anything for certain.”

The hands on the large overhead clock crept by. After an hour of repetitive cable news, Jules finally located the TV remote and switched off the set. Night sounds greeted the silence. Nurses going about their work. A meds cart rattling down the hallway.

was Sophie scared half out of her mind? The notion hit Jules like a wooden mallet. She'd never once seriously given thought to losing her best friend. Sophie could beat this; she'd overcome every other obstacle in her life.

Sometime around eleven a nurse appeared to tell them that Sophie was being moved to Critical Care. They retreated to the unit waiting area and resumed their vigil.

Hours dragged on. Jules determined to keep her eyes open but by midnight she was dozing. Head bobbing. She faintly remembered Cruz wadding a blanket someone had left into a pillow and laying her head down on the sofa. His familiar scent washed over her.

“You always smell so good,” she murmured. She reached up to touch his face before she drifted back asleep.

Around two-thirty, footsteps awakened her. Sitting upright, Jules pushed back her hair, noting the stern look on the doctor's features. “Sophie's stable.”

A sigh of relief left Jules like the air from a pricked balloon.

Cruz released a pent-up breath. “She's going to make it?”

“She's gravely ill, Mr. Delgado. She's been responding to treatment well, but as you know, we're fighting serious complications. We'll watch her closely.” The doctor shook his head. “I wish I could tell you more. Go home, get some rest. We'll call if there's any change.”

Adan spoke. “I'll stay with her the rest of the night. You two go home and get some sleep.”

“I don't want to leave her.” Cruz turned to Jules. “Go home. She'll need you in the morning.”

“Only one of us can go in there at a time,” Adan argued. “Both of you leave and come back in the morning.”

Cruz nodded and took Jules's arm and they walked out of the room and to the elevator. “I'll follow you home.”

“Thanks.” It was very late, and the highway would be a lonely one. Jules climbed into the Tracker, wiped her eyes, and then pulled out of the hospital parking lot. Adjusting her mirror, she saw Cruz's pick-up pull in behind her, a sight she hadn't witnessed in a very long time.

God, I've asked for many things: Sophie's full recovery, Cruz's forgiveness. I know that you're not a grocery store and I can't come to you with a written list. I guess this plea ties in with Cruz—doesn't everything that I ask lately? Let me find a way to win back his love. I promise the third time I'll take better care of your blessing.

A sense of peace drifted and settled around her shoulders with the weight of a feather. Sophie had a minor set-back — that was to be expected. Everything would be fine.

Just fine.

I
n both good and bad ways, Jules decided that night was a turning point. Two days later, Sophie returned to a private room. Jules resumed her daily visits, and Cruz and Adan battled the continuing drought. Eastern Washington was never known for sufficient summer rains, so every farmer had an irrigation system. Center pivots that could water fields well over 100 acres in size. Both the Matiases and Delgados had old systems that struggled to keep up with the crops. with harvest coming up, the daily battle for sufficient water supply and Sophie's illness took its toll.

Joe Fraker shook his head when Jules told him their system had broken down in the west field.

“we've got to replace that one, honey, or we're not growing potatoes next season.”

“I know,” Jules sighed. Her mind pictured the tubs of dirt in the shed. The new tubers were doing well, but it would be weeks before she knew if she'd hit on the right formula. If she had discovered the perfect spud, money would be flowing like wine.

Ethan burst out of the house with Crystal on his heels. He raced for “Aunt Jube” wrapping his arms around her legs.
“Ethan! Come back here!”

Crystal stood in the doorway, hand on her hip. “You come back here, dirty boy!”

Jules glanced at her sister. “What's wrong?”

“It's his bath time and he doesn't want to cooperate.”

Bending to meet the child's eyes, Jules said sternly, “You have to mind Crystal.”

“You hafta mind, Crystal,” Livvy parroted.

Sighing, Jules realized that the kids were with her and Crystal more than their uncles.

“That will be quite enough from you, young lady.” Jules shooed her into the house and turned back to the boy. “Ethan?”

He shook his head and clutched her jeans tighter. “Don't wanna take a bath.”

Crystal approached, giving the ranch foreman a smile. “Hi, Joe.”

He tipped his hat. “Miss Crystal.”

Ethan stepped in back of Jules.

“Honestly,” Crystal exclaimed. “He's been in a rebellious mood lately.”

“Want Mama!”

Jules sighed and patted his head. “She'll be home soon, sweetie.”

Crystal focused on the trowel in Jules's hand. “Working on your experiment?”

Nodding, Jules hoped to avoid the subject in front of Joe. But Crystal blurted, “Joe, did you know she's working on producing a perfect potato?”

Joe frowned. “That a fact?”

“Crystal!” Jules mentally groaned.

“She is.” Crystal sounded proud as a newborn's parent. “And she's very close. So close you had it last month, didn't you, Jules?”

Jules shook her head. “Not even close.”

“But the plant under the light —”

“Rotted.”

“But you're close.”

“I've … planted other versions. we'll see.” She reached for Ethan's hand and ushered him to the house. “Mind Crystal. Take your bath.” when she returned to the yard Joe was waiting.

“Need something else, Joe?”

“what's this about a perfect potato?”

“Nothing. Really. I'm doing my thesis on potatoes and I thought I'd try to grow a perfect one.”

“And you came close?”

“I thought I'd found one that showed real promise. It grew quickly, had beautiful spotless skin, needed little water and fertilizer, but overnight the thing turned a strange gray purple and put off this noxious smell.” It had taken days to rid the shed of the last experimental stench. “I've planted another mix.”

Removing his hat, Joe scratched his head. “Now ain't that something. Don't know of anyone around here that's ever tried anything like that.”

“Probably because everyone but me has better sense.”

“Well.” Joe settled his hat on his head. “I need to see if I can get that irrigation system going again. Need anything from the store?”

“No, don't believe we do.”

“I need to get some chaw before I go back to work.”

“You know that's a nasty habit.”

“I do.”

It was hard to argue with someone who wouldn't.

Late afternoon, the phone started to ring. Three calls in less than an hour. Two from guys Jules dated in college who were now divorced and on the prowl. One from a widow man who lived three counties away.

At first the friendly chats puzzled Jules until the dinner invitations followed—and they mentioned that they'd heard she was working on some kind of “experimental” plant?

Jules had closed her eyes and wished a pox upon her sister. News about her project had gotten out. Apparently Joe had innocently shared Jules's experiment when he bought his chaw. By now the whole county had to know what she was working on.

She smacked the plaster board beside the wall phone. Suddenly she was the most sought after single female in Franklin County.

Cruz studied the dry field, hands on hips, surveying the crop. Beside him lay the old irrigation pump, dead as a doornail.

Adan arrived in a cloud of dust. Climbing out of the truck, he said, “Can you fix it?”

“Not this time. The thing's gone for good.”

“Man!” Adan jerked off his hat and slapped the felt on his thigh. “And we're only a few weeks from harvest.”

“What harvest?” Cruz glared at the crop. “If this field doesn't get water soon, there'll be nothing to harvest.”

“Two years in a row, Cruz. We can't hold out if the crop fails this year.”

“What do you suggest that we do?”

“Get a bigger loan at the bank.”

“Can't. We're over extended as it is.”

“Can we rent a system?”

Cruz turned to give him a cynical look.

“I know — we don't have the money. What about borrow one?”

“How many farmers do you know that have a spare irrigation system lying around?”

“Martindale put in a new system last year. What'd he do with his old one?”

“Haven't heard, but if I were guessing, he got rid of it. If it worked, why would he have bought a new one?”

“Updated? A lot are doing that.”

“I'll call him, but don't get your hopes up. You talked to Sophie today?”

“This morning.” Adan shook his head. “She's so weak, Cruz.”

“Keep praying. She's going to make it.”

Adan's eyes scanned the field. “Lord's going to think I've got a lot of favors on my list. Sophie's health, new irrigation. Might as well throw in a new Diesel and a turkey dinner.”

“He's a big God.”

“Yeah.” Adan studied the dry soil, and then turned on his heel. “I'll drive over and talk to Martindale. If we're lucky, he's still got his old system.”

“Right,” Cruz grunted. “Just lying around for the taking.”