Deep in the Heart

by Gilbert, Morris

  “Her name is Lucita Lebonne. Her husband, Gordie, died a few days ago. He was a friend of Clay’s, and Clay promised to look out for them.”

  “Seems Clay’s lookin’ out for lots of people these days.”

  “Yes, he is,” Jerusalem said, noting the sarcasm. She matched Jake’s gaze until he finally dropped his eyes. “What’s on your mind, Jake?”

  “Well, I been thinkin’ about the situation, tryin’ to find a way out of it.” He waited for Jerusalem to speak, but when she did not, he blurted out, “Look, it ain’t like I don’t care about you and the kids. You know I do.”

  “No, I don’t know that, Jake. Your being gone all this time speaks a whole lot louder than your words, I’m afraid,” Jerusalem said evenly.

  “Don’t be foolish! Of course I do,” he insisted.

  “Jake, just say what’s on your mind and be done with it.”

  “All right, here it is. I think I ought to find a place for Awinita and her kids to live, and I’ll come back and stay with you.”

  “What makes you think I want you back under those terms?” Jerusalem said. “Let me ask you one question, Jake. Did you ever really love me?”

  Jake Hardin could not face his wife’s penetrating glance. Instead, he quickly shifted his glance and looked to the mountains far off to the north.

  “Well, there’s different kinds of ways to love a woman.”

  “I’m sure you found that handy.”

  “I can’t give up Awinita and the kids. They’re my responsibility just as much as our kids.”

  At that instant Jerusalem knew that talking was hopeless. She felt angry and wanted to tell him what all his years of negligence had done to her and their children, but she knew it would do no good. She knew Jake lacked commitment, the very quality her heart had longed for all those years. She realized she had known about his unfaithfulness for a long time, but she was a determined woman and had set her whole personality to try to make her marriage work. Looking back on it now, she had experienced serious doubts about Jake’s long absences, which she never permitted herself to voice. Now she knew she should have faced up to it years ago, but it was too late.

  “I won’t live like that, Jake. It’s a lie, and you know it,” Jerusalem said with a finality. She watched as Jake summoned up an argument and then seemed to wither under her direct gaze.

  “Then I reckon it’ll have to be your way,” he murmured.

  “I suppose I’ll be going back to the States, Jake,” she said. “So this is good-bye forever.”

  “Jerusalem, I won’t get to see my kids grow up.”

  “You can watch your other family grow up,” Jerusalem said. She turned her back on him and walked away.

  Jake Hardin had no choice but to mount his horse and ride off. He had little enough hope when he came to talk with Jerusalem, and now he knew that a large part of his life had vanished.

  Clay had come out to give some grain to his horse, which he had hobbled some distance from the wagons. The sun was high in the sky, but dark thunderheads were rolling in, and it looked as though rain was coming. He looked up and saw Julie walking toward him. He knew her well enough to recognize she had something on her mind. “What is it, Julie?”

  “I’m worried about Jerusalem,” Julie said as she came up and stood before him. “Got an idea how we can help her.”

  “She won’t listen to it if it’s like your last one.”

  “She won’t have anything to say about it, Clay. Look, I’ve been thinking. I’ve never done anything good in my whole life.”

  “Well, me either . . . I guess.”

  “Yes, you have. You pitched in to save our family, but me . . . I haven’t done a lot to be proud about. Now, listen, Clay. Jerusalem’s dead set against our getting married, and maybe she’s right. She keeps saying that God meant marriage to last forever. You know how she is about things like that.”

  “I guess you’re right. That kind of backs her into a corner with no way out, if you ask me. I mean, with Jake takin’ up with another woman.”

  “Wouldn’t bother me. I’d shoot him, at least in the leg.” Julie’s eyes glinted, and she shook her head. “I knew what kind of a scoundrel he was a long time ago, but Jerusalem just wouldn’t listen to me. She said she wouldn’t give up on him. But here’s what we can do. We don’t have to actually marry, Clay. All we have to do is just say we are.”

  Clay stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

  “You don’t think these people go back and check county records or demand to see marriage licenses, do you? All you have to do is tell Austin that we’re married. Then he’ll sell us the land, and sooner or later we can transfer the title to Jerusalem.”

  Clay was caught with the idea. “You know, there’s something in that. To tell the truth, I didn’t like the idea of goin’ through with a marriage.”

  “No, you’re not the marryin’ kind,” Julie grinned, “and neither am I. But here’s what we’ll do. We’ll go find Stephen Austin and buy the land, and then—”

  “We have to become Catholics first. Steve Austin said it was one of the requirements of the grant,” Clay said.

  “I heard that the priest was down the road a ways havin’ mass. He can baptize us and whatever else he has to do.”

  “I expect he has to give us a paper.”

  “Well, come on, then. Saddle up that horse and saddle up one for me.” Julie suddenly grabbed him and threw her arms around his neck. Her eyes were dancing, and she laughed aloud. “I’m anxious to be Mrs. Julie Taliferro.”

  Father Michael Muldoon was a short, rotund man with black hair and merry blue eyes. He had been eating when Julie and Clay came in, and a pile of bones from a chicken littered his plate. He got up, and as soon as Clay explained the situation, that they needed to fulfill the law, Muldoon shrugged and said, “That is easy, my son.”

  Clay felt uncomfortable. “I’m not real sure that I’m fit to be a member of anybody’s flock, Father.”

  “Who is fit?” Muldoon said. His eyes went from one to the other, and he smiled freely. “I am a renegade, of sorts. I was thrown out of Ireland for bad behavior.”

  “Is that right, Father?” Julie’s eyebrows arched, and she leaned forward. “What sort of bad behavior?”

  “Oh, nothing to do with the usual sins of money or women. I had a theological difference with my bishop. He ran me out of the country for it. This was the only place that would take me.”

  “I’m sure you do a lot of good,” Julie said. “Is this going to be very complicated?”

  “Not complicated at all. I baptize you and give you a certificate, and you sign a paper saying that you are members of the church.”

  “Well, let’s get on with it,” Julie said. “I like to try everything once, and I’ve never tried being baptized.” Especially if it helps me get some land, she thought and winked at Clay.

  Jerusalem was worried about Julie and Clay. They had been gone for two days now, and she was growing weary of making explanations for them to the others, especially the children. She and Moriah had just finished cooking the meal and were working on supper before the open fire when she heard Moriah say, “Look, there come Clay and Aunt Julie.”

  Jerusalem stood up from the fire and turned. Clay and Julie rode right up next to the wagon, both dismounted, and Clay took the reins from Julie. He had an odd look on his face, and Jerusalem thought again how easy he was to read.

  Julie was smiling as she greeted them all. “Where have you been, Aunt Julie?” Brodie asked. “We’ve been worried sick about you.”

  Julie looked at Jerusalem but then turned to Clinton and winked at him. “Well, you ought to be happy, Clinton, strong as you are in your religion. Me and Clay just got baptized.”

  A silence fell over the group, except for Clinton, who said, “You got put under the water?”

  “No, we got sprinkled.”

  Clinton’s face wrinkled up. “Well, that ain’t no good. You got to be put under. If you was
n’t put down under, you ain’t baptized at all.”

  Julie only laughed at Clinton. She turned from him and was watching Jerusalem. “Show her the paper, Clay.”

  Clay looked as if he would have rather gotten back on his horse and ridden out. He started to speak, but Julie said sharply, “Just show her the paper!”

  Jerusalem waited as Clay pulled a folded paper out of his pocket and handed it awkwardly to her without speaking. She unfolded it and stared at it, then looked up. “You two got married after all?”

  “No, we didn’t get married,” Julie said quickly. She looked around at the kids and at Josiah, who had come in close. “We just said we were married. And we got baptized. That was all we needed to get the land from Mr. Austin. Nobody will know the difference.”

  “It’s really Julie’s idea, and I thought it was a good one,” Clay mumbled. “We’ll let a little time pass, and then we’ll sign the place over to you.”

  Jerusalem turned to Julie and could not speak for a moment. Julie came over and did something she had not done in years. She put her arms around Jerusalem and held her tightly. She pressed her cheek against Jerusalem’s and whispered, “It’ll give you a home, sis, you and the kids. It’s the only good thing I could do for you. Please accept this and don’t turn your back on me, Jerusalem.”

  Jerusalem looked at Clay, who stood there silently chewing on his lower lip. She looked over at her children and at her grandfather, and when she did speak, she said, “I don’t feel right about this, but I don’t know what else to do. All right, we all understand that it must never get out that Clay and Julie aren’t married.”

  “We get to stay!” Brodie said quickly, and his eyes lit up. “We’ve got us a place?”

  “You got you a place,” Julie said. “No more sleeping under a wagon.”

  Julie stepped back, and Jerusalem saw that her sister’s eyes were damp with tears. “Well, it’s not right, but if it works out that we get a home out of it, I suppose I’ll have to put up with it.”

  Clay breathed a sigh of relief, for the whole way back he was worried about how Jerusalem would react. He walked over and dropped his hand on Brodie’s shoulder. “It’ll be your ma’s land one day soon, and then down the pike, it’ll be yours someday.” Clay looked at Jerusalem and saw that she was upset, so he tried to smooth things over. “It’s a bigger grant than usual, and it’s right next to the land that I got for Lucita and her kids.

  It’ll be big enough to make a cattle ranch, or big enough to grow plenty of cotton, if that’s what we decide to do.”

  “And there’s already a house on it,” Julie said with excitement. “You can move right in. It’ll be your house.”

  Despite the guilt she felt about what Clay and Julie had done, Jerusalem Hardin felt a sudden lightness of heart. She had felt like a wanderer ever since she had left Arkansas Territory. And she was tired from the long trip, always wondering if they would get attacked by Indians. Now she had a place to call home and a chance to start over. She saw how happy Brodie and Julie were as they gave each other a hug. Even Moriah and Clinton looked relieved that their traveling might finally be over. Taking a deep breath, she said, “All right, let’s go see this place.”

  As they pulled up to the house that sat only a few hundred feet from the Guadalupe River, Clay said, “Nobody’s lived in the house for quite a time, but before I leave here, we’ll get it all fixed up.”

  As she got down from the wagon, Jerusalem gave Mary Aidan to Moriah, then walked toward the house. Clay and Julie followed, and the others trailed behind. The house was two-story, made of frame, an unusual thing out on the Texas plains. Most houses were either adobe or bare logs that had been cut down and trimmed. This one had never been painted, and the wood had weathered to a silvery tint. A porch ran across the front. Jerusalem stepped up and saw that the door was open. As she stepped inside, she was startled, for something moved, and she almost cried out as a big red rooster sailed by her, clucking furiously.

  As they stepped in, a dozen or more hens started to cluck loudly. Brodie laughed and said, “They just lost a house, didn’t they, Ma?”

  “I guess they did, son.”

  They all went through the house excitedly. The first floor had a large room, which could be used for dining and living. Beside that was a smaller room, where the wreck of a stove still remained. Another door led to a hall that separated two bedrooms. And at the end of the hall, a rickety stair went up to the second floor, where there were two bedrooms.

  Jerusalem came down the stairs slowly and found Julie watching her anxiously.

  “It’ll be a fine house. Just needs a little cleaning up, Julie.”

  “You think so, Jerusalem? Can you be happy here?”

  “Of course I can.”

  Clay came in right then, and Julie walked over to him. “We did fine, Clay.” She hugged him and suddenly kissed his cheek, then turned and winked at Jerusalem. “Now, where’s the bridal suite for Mr. and Mrs. Clayton Taliferro?” She laughed at the expression on Clay’s face and then ran out laughing.

  “She’s a handful, ain’t she? I reckon this takes the rag off the bush,” Clay said, looking awkward as his face turned red.

  “Clay, be careful about Julie,” Jerusalem said.

  Clay grinned at her. “I’m always careful around grizzly bears and good-lookin’ women.”

  “A wise notion. What about Lucita and her family? She’s going to need a house too.”

  “We’ll have to hire some laborers to build her an adobe house for now. Can’t be too far away from this one.”

  “Why not?” Jerusalem asked.

  “Because of Indians.”

  “But we haven’t seen any Indians in weeks.”

  “You generally don’t when they don’t want to be seen,” Clay said, then looked out at the land that stretched to the horizon. He smiled to himself. For once in his life, he felt good about helping somebody out, especially Jerusalem. He turned back to Jerusalem and said, “I know you didn’t agree with all we done to get this place, but—”

  “It’s all right, Clay. You and Julie have done fine for us.”

  A week went by, and everyone pitched in and did an enormous amount of work on the house. Jerusalem was exhausted, and she sat down on the porch to rest. The moon was up, and the children were all in bed. Even Julie and Josiah were exhausted and had turned in for the night. Jerusalem had stayed up to finish cleaning the dishes and also waiting for Clay, who was working on Lucita’s house.

  As she sat there, she heard Clay singing the song that had become habitual with him:

  I found a rose in New Orleans,

  Sweetest flower I’d ever seen.

  Coal black hair and sparkling eyes

  And rosy lips for telling lies.

  Deep in the heart!

  O deep in the heart!

  Naught can be lost

  That’s deep in the heart!

  Jerusalem smiled, for Clay was singing the sad ballad with all the gusto in the world as he unsaddled his horse and put him in the corral. When he stepped up on the porch, she said, “Go wash up, Clay, and then come inside and eat. I saved you a plate of food.”

  “Where is everybody?” he asked as he moved toward the washstand and began to wash his face.

  “They’ve all gone to bed. Everybody’s worn out. They’ve all been working from dawn to dusk to whip this place into shape. I suspect you are too. You’ve worked the hardest, and . . . well, thanks for all you’ve done for us.”

  “’Twas nothing, Jerusalem Ann,” he said as he dried his face and hands, then came over and sat down. They had managed to buy a few pieces of furniture, and now Jerusalem went into the kitchen and brought out a plate that had been left on the stove to warm.

  “Steak and potatoes,” she said, “and fresh biscuits and milk.”

  “I reckon I could eat anything about now.” After taking a bite, he looked at Jerusalem and said, “Why, Jerusalem, this all looks good.”

  Jerusalem
smiled and sat down and watched him as he ate hungrily. “How’s the house coming?”

  “We still got a ways to go, but it’s coming along. Should be done before cold weather.”

  “We got here too late to plant a garden, but Awinita has a big one. She gave me some vegetables that we can put up for the winter. Next year we’ll put in a big garden if you’ll break up the ground.”

  “Sure,” Clay said as he continued to eat.

  “I’ve got a reward for you for all your hard work.” Jerusalem got up and went into the kitchen again. She came out with a plate in her hand and set it down on the table in front of him. “Fresh apple pie. Awinita had a few apples.”

  Clay’s eyes shone as he lit into the pie and washed it down with the hot coffee she poured for him. Finally, he was finished, and she refilled his coffee cup and said, “Let’s go out on the porch.”

  Clay rose and followed her out on the porch, and they stood there looking out over the land. The moon was enormous, and a peaceful quietness had settled on the land.

  “The professor and Langley left today looking for Comanches,” Jerusalem said, breaking the silence they were enjoying.

  Clay shook his head. “I sure hope he don’t find none.”

  They were silent again for a while as Clay sipped his coffee, then he put the cup down on the rail. Jerusalem said, “Julie’s doing well. She’s working harder than I’ve ever seen her.”

  “I had an ornery horse once,” Clay said.

  Jerusalem stared at him. Clay Taliferro had a way of making odd remarks that seemed to have nothing to do with the conversation. “Did you?” she said.

  “Yep. Reminded me of Julie in a way.”

  “How was that, Clay?”

  “Well, she’d be good for six months, just waiting for the chance when I wasn’t looking to kick me or bite a plug out of me.”

  Jerusalem was amused at the comparison and laughed. “That’s Julie, all right. She’s got a good heart, but I’m worried about her. Her life is all wrong.”

  “So is mine, I guess.”

  Jerusalem did not answer. From somewhere far off a coyote yodeled toward the moon, one of the many night sounds she had grown accustomed to. The sound rose in the air and then faded away. She looked up at the moon, then turned to Clay and said, “You bit off more than you bargained for, didn’t you, Clay?”