A Man's Heart

by Lori Copeland

  “I know … please, Jules. Don’t be upset.”

  Pushing to her feet, Jules dusted her hands. People must think she was a cold person. “What happened?”

  “The cab service out here is awful.”

  Jules couldn’t argue. Getting a cab from here was like pulling goat’s teeth. A little hairy. “You could have called. I would have picked you up.”

  “I did call the house, but by then you’d left for the services. I ended up walking the last mile.” She brushed long silky tendrils out of her eyes. Bracelets jingled. “It’s hot. I don’t remember it being this hot this early in the year.”

  “It usually isn’t.” She finally met her sister’s eyes. It had been years since she’d seen her—how long? Mom’s funeral? Years fell away and Jules recalled the morning Mom got up and announced that she’d had enough. She gave her daughters a choice: stay with him or go with her. An hour later she took Crystal and deserted the battle front.

  Jules stayed because she thought Pop couldn’t make it alone, but there hadn’t been a day since that she hadn’t wondered if she’d betrayed Mom, if her life wouldn’t be different if she had gone with her and Crystal. Over the years, they wrote and talked on the phone, and Mom didn’t resent Jules’s choice, but eleven years old is young to be stuck in the middle of your parents’ failings.

  Crystal visibly squirmed under her appraisal. “I got your Christmas cards.”

  “Yeah. I got yours.”

  “You look good.” Crystal smiled. “Not aging a bit.”

  “Thanks. You too—you look the same.” Not true; her sister was even prettier wearing a long, gauzy skirt, oversized blouse and large jewelry. Lots and lots of big, flashy sundials glistened around her neck. Jules owned a pair of diamond studs Pop had given her one Christmas and rarely wore them.

  “I talked to Cruz and Adan when I came into town.”

  She was way ahead of her. Jules moved to her grandparents’ graves. Crystal trailed behind, chatting. “Cruz took me to Pop’s and when you weren’t there he suggested you’d be here. So, here I am. Oh gosh—this is Granny and Paw Paw’s grave.” The young woman knelt, running her tanned hand gently over the grassy surface. “I barely remember them.”

  She wouldn’t. She had been eight when Mom took off, and Mom hadn’t brought her back when Buck and Sue Matias died within a few months of each other. “Cruz brought you here?”

  “Yeah. He gets better looking every day.”

  Jules forced a tolerant smile.

  Crystal glanced up. “Sorry. I guess …”

  “I haven’t talked to Cruz lately.” If you could call four years “lately.”

  “He wasn’t at Pop’s funeral? He said he was.”

  “He was there. I just didn’t get an opportunity to visit.” And how did she know so much about she and Cruz’s past? Had Pop written and told her?

  Crystal answered the thought. “Sophie writes a lot—and sends the local paper.” She patted Granny’s grave and stood. “What do I need to do?”

  “Nothing. Everything’s done. Tomorrow morning Pop’s attorney will read his will. The place will be ours. We’ll need to agree on terms.”

  “Terms. Such as?”

  “Such as, I’ll buy you out.”

  “Oh. Those terms.” Crystal fell silent.

  “You don’t plan to come home, do you?”

  “No, I love Florida, the sun and surf. You know me. I won’t eat potatoes, let alone grow them.” She flashed another smile.

  “You still buy into that myth that potatoes are fattening?”

  “No, I don’t like the taste.”

  Frowning, Jules avoided her gaze. Didn’t like potatoes. She didn’t know a person alive other than Crystal who wouldn’t chow down on fries or a big Baker loaded with sour cream and chives.

  The women fell into step. Maddy grazed, bridle dragging the ground. How did Crystal intend to get back to the farm? “Is Cruz picking you up?” That’s all she needed after the trying day. It hurt enough when he hadn’t spoken at the funeral home.

  “No, I told him I’d either hitch a ride with you or walk.”

  “In this heat?”

  Crystal’s gaze sized up the mare. “Sophie says you and she ride the barrel races.”

  “We did until I decided to go back to college. Now we ride the annual Fourth of July rodeo.”

  “I remember that! Mom and Pop used to take us every year. We’d eat corn dogs, cherry snow cones and funnel cakes.” She shuddered. “I can’t believe I’d eat a once living thing.”

  “It’s a wiener, Crystal. When you eat a wiener your last concern should be that something in it once had a face. Unfortunately, everything in meat was once something.” They approached the waiting mare and stood for a moment, uncertainty shadowing Jules’s mind. “Do you want a ride?”

  “Sure.” Gathering her full skirt, Crystal hooked her sandaled foot in the stirrup and climbed aboard, bracelets tinkling. Staring down at Jules, she grinned. “I haven’t forgotten how to ride.”

  No, she wouldn’t. When they were kids, the two girls had lived on ponies when they weren’t working the potato fields. Her sister reached to stroke Maddy’s neck. The gentle mare had been Jules’s constant companion before she left for college.

  Jules was never more aware of the two sisters’ diverse differences. Jules’s dark, short cropped hair, petite build, hazel eyes and tenacious approach favored the Matias side, while Crystal’s long-legged beauty, fair complexion and bohemian lifestyle flaunted Mom’s Swedish heritage.

  Cruz once said that because of Jules’s dogged nature she would make a good Apache, while Crystal would be hard put to swat a moth. Well, if perhaps she’d been the one to go and Crystal had stayed to work the farm, she wouldn’t be so stressed and hardened. Surf and sand was a long way from dirt and potatoes. Wonder if Mr. Delgado had thought of that? She grabbed the reins and swung into the saddle.

  Jules and Crystal made the thirty-minute drive to Pasco the next morning, and by ten-thirty occupied the two leatherback chairs sitting in front of Jack Meddleson’s massive cherry wood desk. Office walls tastefully contained the attorney’s framed accomplishments. Rich sea green carpeting set off paneled oak walls. Stylishly structured pictures of Jack’s grandchildren and wife lined the console behind his oversized chair. Jack handled Fred’s business matters since the day Pop bought the potato farm. Joe Fraker, Blue Bayou’s foreman, stood behind the sisters’ chairs at Jules’s request. Joe had been with Pop since the two started the business. Pop wouldn’t forget Joe in the will.

  Last night had been awkward. The sisters shared a plate of food from the massive casserole and meat dishes lining the kitchen counter. Crystal picked out meat and set it aside without fuss. The two had gone to bed early. Crystal’s old bedroom had long ago been converted into a guest room. This morning Jules told Joe to take the remaining food and floral offerings and distribute them among the employees. Two women — one a vegetarian — couldn’t make a dent in the overwhelming show of appreciation for Pop.

  Jack’s secretary laid a folder on his desk. “Would anyone like coffee? Perhaps a cold drink?”

  When the offer was refused, she quietly left and Jack opened the folder. “I know this has been a trying time for your family, so we’ll get down to business.” He cleared his throat. “I, Fred Matias, being of sound mind …”

  Jules’s brain registered her father’s last will and testament, picturing Pop, worn WSU Cougar ball cap in hand, twisting the fabric, wearing bib overalls, hoping to get his “business” over with as quickly as possible. Pop loved the Lord so the first request was allotted to the church. He gave five thousand, a tenth of cash on hand.

  Joe got four thousand dollars. When the amount was announced, the older man’s jaw went slack.

  The attorney read on. “Joe, you’re probably here supporting Jules, so just let me say I couldn’t have left this without all the years you’ve given me, years when you never complained, some years when we both didn’t g
et a red cent for all our hard work, but you’ve earned this and more, friend. I’ll be waiting for you at the Gate.”

  He left his father’s watch to Cruz. Jules sat up straighter. Jack glanced up and continued reading. “By now Jules will be on point, but you tell her that I find the man worthy, and I want him to have the watch to remind him that time goes by too fast. I regret the sacrifice the boy’s made on my behalf.”

  Cruz’s sacrifice? What about me, Pop? Jules shifted in her chair.

  The attorney turned a page. “He left a particular hoe to Miles Ledbetter. Said Jules would know why.”

  She nodded. “He broke the blade and never got around to buying Miles a new one.” That had been last summer.

  Nodding, Jack sobered and read on. “By now, you know that I had a burial plan and plot so you aren’t out that expense. Other than that, I leave the farm and all my worldly possessions to my daughter Jules.”

  Jules’s jaw dropped. She sensed Crystal’s swift intake, then silence.

  Closing the folder, Jack cleared his throat. “Short. That’s how Fred liked things.” His gaze focused on Crystal and then shied away. “Everything’s in order. The estate should be settled without a hitch.” Pushing back, he stood and shook Jules, Joe, and Crystal’s hands.

  Crystal’s expression remained pleasant. “Thank you, Jack. I barely remember you, but I know Pop thought the world of you.”

  “It’s good to see you, Little One.”

  Jules sensed that he wanted to apologize for Pop’s oversight, but didn’t trust his judgment. But then there were no words or reason why Pop had excluded Crystal from his estate.

  Outside, Jules sat in the Tracker organizing her thoughts before she turned to Crystal. “I don’t know what to say. Maybe Pop …”

  Crystal smiled. “What’s to say? Pop wanted you to have the farm, and I think that’s only fair.”

  “Fair?” Jules didn’t see anything fair about it, but Crystal appeared unfazed.

  “Pop was a good man, but you know his weakness was forgiveness. That was evident with Mom.”

  Yes, Mom’s one indiscretion with a young farmhand during a turbulent time in her early marriage had led to the fights. One was enough. Pop was a God-fearing, God obeying man in every way but forgiveness. You did the crime; you served the time. There were days when Jules feared she had the same unreasonable trait. “Rest assured that half the farm is yours. I wouldn’t think of taking part of your inheritance.”

  “You will think of it. I would have it no other way. End of subject.”

  When had she become so virtuous? And so insightful. Jules couldn’t figure her out. Give away half of what she owned? That made about as much sense as leaving a daughter empty-handed. Fred Matias would have given you the shirt off his back, but he could carry a grudge to his death, which apparently he’d done. But why resent Crystal? She was an innocent pawn in a war that she’d had no control over.

  Chapter 6

  What could easily have been an awkward silence turned out to be a pleasant ride home. Jules’s mind spun at the turn of events. Crystal couldn’t be that complacent that Pop had left her out of his estate. Not that he was a millionaire, but Jules considered the oversight to be an insult. Crystal was his child, for gosh sakes. Just because he and Mom couldn’t get along, why did he take it out on his own flesh and blood, especially when he’d loved his daughters, or claimed that he did.

  He sent Christmas gifts to Crystal every year — or had Jules do it. Birthday cards. Sometimes Easter greetings. Yet Crystal sat on the passenger’s side quietly humming “In the Sweet By and By” under her breath as though she hadn’t a care in the world. She’d matured. When Mom died, she’d left nothing but bills. There was no estate to settle. So the shell shop had to be running on a wing and a prayer.

  Pulling into the farm yard, Jules spotted Sophie’s car. Thank you, Lord. When Pop’s exclusion finally penetrated Crystal, she’d have someone to help calm her. She slid out of the Tracker and went inside.

  The Matias home, a simple rock farmhouse, a couple of barns, machinery shed and the potato cellars — underground storage units, was always open to Sophie. She’d had a back door key since she was nine years old, and she came and went as she wanted. It wasn’t unusual to come in from a cold winter’s day and find a couple of fresh loaves of Sophie’s bread waiting on the stove. For someone so domesticated and loyal, Jules couldn’t understand why the woman couldn’t keep a husband, other than her best friend had an uncanny knack for picking louses.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  Crystal came in and closed the door. “Hi, Sophie!”

  “Crystal.” The two women embraced. “Great to see you. It’s been a long time.”

  “Too long, but I don’t feel that I’ve missed a —” Crystal drew back. “What’s wrong?”

  Jules opened the refrigerator for a cold drink, turning when she heard alarm in her sister’s tone. A red-eyed Sophie seized her attention. She’d been crying. Streaked make-up and runny mascara marred her features. Closing the door, Jules approached the table.

  “Better sit down.” Sophie lifted a tissue and dabbed her eyes. Dropping into a chair, Jules faced her. “Is it one of the kids?”

  Sophie shook her head.

  “What is it, honey?” Crystal eased to put her arms around Sophie’s shoulder. “Whatever it is, we’re here with you. God’s in his heaven.”

  “I just got a call from my gynecologist.”

  Jules tensed. Sophie’s annual physical. They’d found something unusual — maybe an abnormal pap? That happened. “Oh hey, whatever it is I’m sure it’s simple —”

  “It’s uterine cancer.”

  Silence seized the room. The ticking wall clock penetrated the thick air. Jules swallowed. “Scary, but they can —”

  “Stage three. They took a biopsy. It came back positive.”

  Bringing her hand to her mouth, Jules swallowed back panic. Stage three. The abysmal number rang in her ears.

  “Oh, honey.” Crystal held Sophie closer. Jules waited for the usual platitudes to follow: “It’ll be okay. They can do a lot these days — they’ve come so far.” But none of that happened. Crystal held her while the dam broke and Sophie cried, agonizing sobs that clawed at the heart.

  Sophie accepted a handkerchief from Jules and rubbed her eyes. “What’s going to happen to my children?”

  “Don’t even think that way.” The thought of losing Sophie was intolerable. She was twenty-eight years old. She’d barely begun to live her life. “Maybe there’s a mistake. Get a second opinion.”

  Wagging her head, Sophie declined. “They want me in the hospital today.”

  Jules’s head spun. Her mind couldn’t grasp the turn of events. First Pop. Now Sophie? She struggled to wake from the nightmare.

  Crystal broke the stagnant silence. “What can we do to help?”

  “I need someone to look after my children. Cruz and Adan said they will take them, but I need yours and Jules’s help. You know men.” She blew her nose. “My brothers don’t know beans about taking care of children. The big lugs are kids themselves.”

  “We’ll keep them,” Crystal offered. “I can hire someone to run the shell shop. There’s no reason I can’t stay here for awhile.”

  Sophie met Jules’s eyes. “I know what I’m asking is a lot—you’d have to be around Cruz more often than you’d like, but —”

  “I’ll do it,” Jules confirmed. Dread filled her. Not only would she be forced to deal with Cruz on a daily basis, she’d have to adjust to having Crystal around. She and her sister had been so distant—so foreign to each other. They were strangers with nothing in common but the blood running through their veins.

  “There’s treatment —”

  Sophie dismissed the hope with a wave of her hand. “Surgery first, then chemo and radiation.”

  “You can beat this.” Jules reached for her hand. “I know you. Right now you’re terrified, but we’ll fight this. Miracle
s happen every day in the medical field.”

  Nodding, Sophie wiped her eyes. “The children’s fathers are not to know about this. I don’t want Matt or Jake coming around if this doesn’t turn out the way we hope. They might try to get the children though that’s laughable. Cruz says he won’t let that happen, but you may have to help him fight, Jules. You know both my ex-husbands are no good. They’ve relinquished all paternal rights.”

  “Isn’t Matt in jail?”

  “Usually. I don’t know where he is right now. I don’t think you’ll have to worry about him or Jake, but whatever happens, those two men are not to have custody of my children. Nor the grandparents.” Sophie sniffed. “I want those children to remain here.”

  Jules wasn’t sure what she could prevent, but she’d give it her all. “I’ll protect the children, I promise, but you have to promise me that you won’t give up. This is going to be a hard fight, Sophie, but you’ve weathered some tough times.”

  Biting her lower lip, Sophie faced her, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I’m scared, Jules. I’m so scared.”

  “You can do it, honey.” Crystal drew Sophie’s head to her shoulder. “We’ll pray, and God will hear our prayers.”

  Shaking her head, Sophie buried her face in her hands. “It’s hard to believe in God right now.”

  “I know,” Crystal soothed. “I’d feel the same, but every day brings new hope.”

  And when had Crystal become so virtuous? Smart. Savvy. What happened to the old airhead Crystal? Jules shifted Crystal aside. Sophie didn’t need a sermon. She needed comfort. Pop had always seen that Jules went to church — God would hear her prayers. In truth, her spiritual life had slipped a little. Weekends she studied, but the times she came home she always accompanied Pop to church.

  “I’ll help Cruz and Adan with the children until you recover. When are you expected at the hospital?”

  “I’m supposed to go home, pack a bag, and check in.”

  “Who has the children?”

  “Ann Ramsey.”