A Man's Heart (20 page)

Burying her face in his neck, she drank in his essence. Aftershave. Soap. Cruz. His hold tightened and they swayed to the vocal strains …

Ronstadt lamented that she wanted to go back someday. So did Jules, but years of regret had taught her that you couldn't go back. You lived with your mistakes.

There hadn't been a word uttered, just a holding of each other. A cove in a storm. He would never show his feelings toward her, but Jules sensed they weren't as dead as he hoped or as hopeless as she feared.

Twirling her again, their eyes met and held as he brought her back. Goosebumps rose on her arms as their gazes locked and the steel guitar played in the background. Deep in those dark, tortured depths she saw a raw need, a need he fought. Cruz was a strong man; strong in his belief and abnormally strong in his sense of right and wrong. For Cruz, there were no gray areas in life. Black or white.

Jules lived in life's fringes, second-guessing herself, never quite sure of her decisions but gritting through them. Sophie accused her of caring more about others' needs than her own, and perhaps she was right. Maybe it was time to think of her needs, her desires. She had only one goal, and he was holding her right now, his pain so tangible she wanted to hug him, kiss away the hurt.

The music faded. For a long moment, they stood holding each other in the middle of the dance floor. If anyone noticed,
they didn't catcall or make a big deal of the improper and unlikely scene. It was the cold, “food's up” that came from Nick that broke the delicate silence.

Stepping back, Cruz looked a little stunned by what had just taken place. “I … thanks …”

“Thank you. Today — of all days, I needed to dance.”

Nodding, he stepped back to the pool table, and she slid onto the counter stool.

If she'd thought food sounded awful ten minutes ago, she realized she wouldn't be able to eat a bite now.

J
ules yanked tubers out of three tubs, and flung them into a fifty-gallon oil drum. One more attempt to recreate a flawless potato down the drain.

Leaning back on the potting table, she studied her notes. So far she had only come close to reproducing the magic plant, but close wasn't good enough. She had to have the exact combination, and she couldn't re-create it. Her phone hadn't stopped ringing since the news leaked out about her “almost” find. She'd turned down more suitors than she had bedspreads the past two weeks.

She glanced up when she heard a tap at the shed door. “Enter!”

Cruz appeared in the doorway and her heart did a cartwheel. Jeans and T-shirt hugged his stocky frame. She'd barely seen him since Sophie's service except for the occasions that he and Adan had stopped by to play with the children. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He stepped into the shed and eyed the tubs of dirt. “Still trying, I see.”

Shrugging, she closed her notes. “I assume you have a purpose for being here so early?”

“I came for the kids.”

Her brows knitted. “For the kids? This isn't your day to have them.”

His features sobered. “Sophie's gone. Adan and I want the kids.”

She put her hands on her hips and confronted him. “You can't have the kids. I keep them until you get the farm on an even keel.” Sophie made it clear that either Adan or Cruz should be appointed the legal guardian, but only at the proper time. “That's what we agreed on.”

“Oh bull. You know as well as I do that Adan and I were only appeasing Sophie. Those are our flesh and blood, and we're going to raise them.”

Jules's gaze clashed with his. “I have a legal paper stating otherwise, signed by Sophie and witnessed by her attorney.”

“So what? We'll take you to court and fight it.”

“And how do you plan to fight it? Neither one of us has the money to hire attorneys.” Her heart hammered. A judge would be more sympathetic to kin than friend, but she still had the legal document stating Sophie's last wishes. The mother's desires would surely hold weight in a court of law.

“I
don't
have the money, but I can call in a favor.”

Favor.
Of course. Cruz was well respected in these parts and he had many influential friends. She stiffened. But then so did she. Her chin lifted.

“Just try it and I'll call in some favors of my own.” The Delgados weren't the only people in the community with prominent friends.

“Fine.”

She nodded curtly. “Fine. But you'd better save your
requests for something you can win. Like a new irrigation system.”

His features darkened and she realized she'd nicked his pride. “Cruz … I'm sorry …”

“You're right.” He met her apologetic gaze. “My crops are dying in the field from lack of water. I'm three months behind on my bank loan, and they'll repossess my truck in a few weeks, but I
will
fight you on this, Jules. All I need is a good crop this season to get back on my feet. I can convince a judge that my sister's kids belong with family.”

She retraced her misspoken tracks. “I didn't mean to imply that you couldn't care for them. I know you can, but I know Sophie's concerns, and I'll fight you, Cruz.” The conversation was starting to sound like war room chatter. “Ethan and Olivia will come to you or Adan the moment either one of you are able to care for two children.”

He snorted. “And you are?”

“No,” she admitted. “The thought scares me to death, but Crystal's here to help.”

“Looks to me that Crystal is pulling the full load. You're busy all day in the fields —” his gaze swept the dirt tubs, “and butting in on God's business.”

“I am not
butting
in God's business!”

“Oh no? You honestly think you're going to create a perfect anything?”

“Well, half the men in the county believe I will!” They were shouting now. Pulling herself together, she forced calm. “I do more than my share around here.”

True, Crystal did soothe the kids' aches and bruises and tucked them into bed every night, but that was her job. It was all Jules could do to keep equipment running and fighting
pestilence. Harvest was coming up and soon she'd be busy day and night. “You can't have the kids, Cruz, and it's crass of you to come over here two weeks after we buried your sister and demand them.”

“Crass or not, those kids are mine and Adan's.” He turned on his heel to leave. Then turned back. “Adan wanted to come the night we buried her.” He stalked off.

“Cruz?”

He kept walking. “What?”

“Are you really that financially broke?”

Pausing he turned, his guard momentarily gone. “I'm that bad off. The old irrigation system played out, and I can't get a loan to cover a new one. I figure I have another three days, and I lose this year's crop. When I lose this year's crop, in addition to losing a field last year, that pretty well wipes me out.” He bit back a remark, and then said, “I want those kids, Jules. Regardless of what happens to the farm, Sophie's kids are flesh and blood and I want them.”

The image of her meager savings flashed through her mind and she knew the amount wouldn't cover his expenses, even if he would accept a loan. She had experienced the heartbreak of working with old equipment, the constant fear it would go out at a crucial time, the endless worry of lack of rain, harvesting the crop and getting it to the buyer. “What are you going to do?”

He shrugged. “Adan thinks he can find work in Pasco. I'll probably stick around here, find work on another farm.”

“What about the house?”

He shook his head. “I don't have any answers, Jules. I can't sell the house; nobody around here wants one that large. I'll lose the house —” He glanced up and met her eyes mockingly.
“Or we could get married. That was Sophie's scheme all along.”

Jules couldn't deny that she had come to the same conclusion. Why else would her best friend leave such a conundrum brewing?

“We could marry, and you could find that magic potato that's going to make you rich. That would solve my problem.”

She faked a condescending smile. “You devil-with-a-sil-ver-tongue. How you do go on.” Her smile faded. “Might as well join the herd. Every available man in the county thinks I'm so gullible that I don't know what they're after.” Were they ever going to be surprised when she was forced to admit she couldn't re-create the plant, hard as she tried, and she'd tried plenty hard. The realization sickened her, but it was looking more and more likely that her fortune had been short-lived.

A grin spread at the corners of his mouth. “Too bad Haute and Crystal are dating. He's one fine potato farmer; got a first-rate operation himself. With a magic potato, he'd be top producer around these parts.”

She threw a disdainful look. “Big deal. I only saw them go out once.”

“Oh. Then he's not taken. Good for you.” He was back to his old goading self.

“Why don't
you
date?” In the months she'd been back, she hadn't seen him with a single woman.

He lifted a dark brow. “Haven't you heard? I've sworn off women.”

“Really. All women? Or just Jules Matias.”

“All that I've met so far.”

“Too bad. There are a lot of good women out there.”

“Yeah, all of them looking for a flat broke potato farmer with two small kids to rear.”

“You don't have those kids yet. Don't count your chickens before they hatch.”

He winked. “Do me a favor, honey. Jot those particular women's names down for me, will you? I'll give them a call.” He turned and proceeded to the door.

She took a deep breath, then muttered under her breath, “There's one right under your nose, Goofus, one that would be content to eat dirt in order to be with you.” She rammed a trowel into a tub of dirt.

He turned. “Did you say something?”

Glancing up, she flashed a grin. “Talking to myself.”

E
arly the next morning Jules opened the kitchen door and a man slapped a white piece of paper in her hand. When she read the enclosed document, she felt steam boil out the top of her head. She'd just been handed a court summons. Cruz wasn't blowing smoke. He intended to fight Sophie's will.

The Delgados might be down to their last dime, but they still had plenty of sympathetic friends to fight their battles.

Jules burst into the den, waving the paper. “The nerve of him!”

Crystal glanced up, newspaper in hand. “The nerve of who?”

“Cruz and Adan filed a petition to break Sophie's will.”

Her sister's eyes softened. “Oh, how sweet.”

“Sweet!”

“They must love those kids very much to assume their responsibility.”

“Sweet,” Jules grumbled. “You do realize they'll be taking Olivia and Ethan away from us?”

“Isn't that their right?”

“No. Sophie wanted them to stay with me awhile and then later choose which man got them.”

“Personally, I think that was unfair of Sophie to ask that of you.” Crystal folded the court paper and set it aside. “We're not the children's family, Jules. I know you and Sophie considered yourself to be sisters, but you weren't, and honestly, if someone took your children away from me I'd fight them to the death.”

Pausing in the doorway, Jules let the declaration sink in. Crystal would fight to keep her children? The thought was totally unexpected. They barely knew one another, and other than a brief past, they were strangers. A more disturbing idea crossed her mind. Would she do the same for Crystal? She honestly couldn't say that she would—or if she did, it would be out of a sense of responsibility, not a selfless act.

Crystal got to her feet and stretched. “So, what do you intend to do?”

“Get a lawyer.”

“Isn't that awfully expensive—especially since you plan to give them to the men once they're financially able to assume responsibility? And you will make the decision. I know you.” She sighed. “Sophie didn't leave an insurance policy?”