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Chapter Text

JANUARY 1832

"Papa! Papa! They're here! They're here!"

Five year old Alfonso de la Vega burst through the front door of the hacienda carrying a large, long package. The excited little boy was followed, at a more sedate pace, by his grandfather, Don Alejandro.

Diego emerged from the library when he had been reading yet another book about making wine. It was one of the few things he did lately; learn about wine making or checking on his vineyards. The vines he had planted five years earlier were finally going to mature in the fall. He was becoming rather obsessed with his grapes.

"Not so loud, Alfonso," he admonished. "Your mother and brothers are taking a nap."

"Sorry, Papa," said the youngster contritely. He lifted up the parcel to show his father. "The swords are here. Now me and Diego can learn to fight just like Zorro."

"That's ‘Diego and I'," corrected his grandfather. "And si, you can be just like Zorro." The old don smiled indulgently at his grandson and patted his raven haired head.

Don Alejandro had resigned his position as the alcalde of Los Angeles about six months earlier, a decision so far he did not regret. The new alcalde was the son of one of his amigos. Don Antonio Rodriguez was doing an excellent job and was also smart enough to seek advice from his immediate predecessor.

Alfonso waited impatiently for his father to unwrap the box. He was thinking about how thrilled his cousin would be about the weapons it contained. Diego wasn't really his cousin but actually his nephew. His adopted brother Felipe was the young Diego's father. But when Alfonso had been younger, he just could not fathom the relationship. So Felipe and Ana Maria became ‘Tio' and ‘Tia' and their sons, Diego and the nearly two year old Jaime became his ‘cousins'.

Cousin Diego, at almost five, was a year younger than Alfonso, who would be six in a few months, but only an inch shorter in height. The two muchachos were inseparable companions. They were often joined in their play by the younger Diego's cousins, Ricardo and Roberto Mendoza. The amount of mischief the four lads got into when they all got together was mind boggling.

It didn't help matters that almost since birth, the de la Vega boys had heard tales of the legendary fox of Los Angeles, El Zorro. They would sit and listen raptly for hours of their fathers' stories of the masked hero. Neither of them quite realized that Zorro had been Alfonso's papa.

The elder Diego had decided several months earlier that the two youngsters needed to learn to fence properly instead of constantly whacking at each other with sticks whenever they pretended to be Zorro. Felipe had also agreed it was a good idea. The boys' mothers needed a little more convincing, but finally had acquiesced. Diego had ordered four beginner's blades for them from Spain.

The de la Vega males were all admiring the finely crafted Toledo steel foils. Don Alejandro picked up one and gave it a few practices swings. "Nice balance," he commented. "These will do just fine."

"When can you start teaching us, Papa?" asked Alfonso, eyeing his abuelo with envy. "Today?"

Diego chuckled at the boy's eagerness. "No, hijo, not today," he replied. "How about tomorrow afternoon? We can go inform your cousin and Tio Felipe right now if you like."

"Si, Papa, gracias." Alfonso ran out of the house to the stables. He had been riding practically since he could walk and loved to help saddle his pony. Diego shook his head as he watched his son for a moment before turning back to his father.

"I do hope you know what you are getting into," said Don Alejandro drily. "It's going to take a lot of patience to teach children so young."

"I think I can handle it," replied Diego. "After all, I taught Felipe to fence. And look how well he learned."

"Si, that's true," agreed the elder de la Vega. But still he thought Diego was taking on more than he could handle. He had noticed a restlessness in his son the past few years and felt this desire to teach the boys fencing came from that dissatisfaction. It was obvious that Diego and Victoria were happily married, he was extremely proud of his sons and he had shown himself to be a competent manager of the ranch.

But underneath this contented exterior, Don Alejandro sensed that Diego missed the adventure and the exhilaration of his life when he had been Zorro. Diego was more like his father than he wanted to admit. But wisely, the old don kept these thoughts to himself. Far be it from him to stir up trouble.

"I'm going to check on Victoria and the twins before I go," announced Diego. "Could you make sure Alfonso doesn't leave without me, por favor?"

His father nodded his agreement and headed out after his grandson as Diego make his way toward the bedrooms. He first opened the door to the room where his twin sons, Alejandro and Francisco, who would be three years old next month, were napping. They had just recently been moved from the nursery to their new larger bedroom.

Diego smiled as he saw them snuggled together on one of their beds. They would often crawl into the other's bed as they didn't like being separated. He quietly closed their door then continued on down the hallway.

Again, he slipped silently into a bedroom, his own this time and gazed down upon his wife lying upon their bed. Concern etched itself into his face as he did so.

Victoria was expecting again and was about six months along. This pregnancy was quite different than her first two however. She had breezed through both of them with hardly a problem. Even the carrying the twins had been easy for her.

But this time, Diego sighed wearily, she was sick all day long. Dark circles had become permanent fixtures under her brown eyes and her complexion was very pale.

Victoria, being the stubborn person she was, kept insisting to her husband that she was fine The doctor had assured them everything was progressing normally. She also like to point out that Ana Maria had had a lot of morning sickness with Jaime, her and Felipe's last baby, who was now eighteen months old and perfectly healthy.

Diego looked down upon her, her raven curls mussed against the pillow. His eyes locked on the swell of her belly which she cradled with one hand. She was so beautiful and once again he thought of how lucky he was. His musings were interrupted as she started to stir.

"Hola," she said as she brushed the hair from her face. Sitting up slowly, Victoria gave him a weak smile. "Are the twins still asleep?"

"Si," answered Diego. "Alfonso and I are going over to Felipe and Ana Maria's. Our son's package finally arrived from Spain."

"Oh, so the swords are here," Victoria commented as she rubbed her back. She shook her head. "I hope you know what you're getting into."

Diego held his irritation in check. Why was everyone questioning his instructing the boys in swordplay? Felipe was the only other person who understood his need to do so. And even so, he had noticed his adopted son throwing a concerned glance or two in his direction whenever the subject was discussed.

These thoughts were driven from his head as Victoria got to her feet then immediately plopped back down onto the bed, bringing her hand to her temple.

"Are you all right, querida?" Diego knelt down beside her, putting a steadying hand on her shoulder.

"I'm fine," Victoria declared as she rose up off the bed once again, this time a bit more slowly. "I just got up too fast. I'm all right, Diego," she added, a little peeved by his somewhat smothering solicitude.

"I can stay home, if you need me to," suggested her husband. He did not pick up on his wife's annoyance at his offer.

"I'll be fine, Diego," Victoria reiterated. "If you can wait a moment, I have some things for Ana Maria you can take with you."

Diego nodded then watched as his wife walked into the adjoining nursery. Or waddled might have been the more appropriate term. She had gained a little more weight with this pregnancy than with her others. But this brought a smile to Diego's face. The added pounds had been placed in the most alluring places.

Although it might have been his frustration doing his thinking for him. Since Victoria was so tired and ill all the time, making love was out of the question. There had been several occasions that she had wanted to do so, but Diego, fearing for her health and that of the unborn child, had made his excuses.

It was another reason he had spent so much time lately in his vineyards. He needed the distraction. Victoria came back into the bedroom, carrying a bundle of clothing. She eyed her husband curiously as she handed the garments to him.

"These are for Jaime," she instructed. "Just a few things that the twins have outgrown."

"Adios, Victoria," he replied before kissing her cheek. "We'll be back before supper."

"Adios." Victoria followed him out of the room and down the hallway. She stopped outside Alejandro and Francisco's room and waved as Diego glanced over his shoulder at her before continuing on his way.

Dios, she was so beautiful. Diego cursed his self imposed celibacy, groaning a little at the thought of at least five more months of it. Shaking his head to clear it, he passed through the front door and strode quickly to the stables where an impatient Alfonso was waiting for him.

Felipe leaned back in his chair and took off his glasses. I need an apprentice, he thought not for the first time as he rubbed his tired eyes. Another morning of reading legal texts had made them burn and itch with fatigue.

He had finally had to admit to himself as well as to everyone else that he needed to wear corrective lens. Several years earlier he had been struck on the head by falling rocks during an earthquake, rendering him blind. And even though he had regained his eyesight, his vision had been adversely affected.

His practice as a lawyer was growing as the need for him to do more and more reading. A couple of years ago, he had had to surrender to the fact that he needed glasses.

But otherwise, Felipe was thoroughly enjoying his life now. For the first time in his twenty-seven years, he was very happy. He had his beautiful wife, Ana Maria and two fine sons, Diego and Jaime. His chosen career was exciting and fulfilling. His horse breeding operation was coming along nicely as well. He could hear and speak and was surrounded by a family who loved him.

Felipe looked out the window of his office at the paddock where Viento and two other stallions were grazing. Putting his glasses back on, he could see out to where the pregnant mares were confined. If everything went well, he was going to have a busy spring.

His gaze then turned to the corral which held the yearlings. A grin crept onto his handsome face as he quickly made up his mind. The law could wait, Felipe thought as he tossed his glasses onto the book he had been perusing. Spending the afternoon working with the year old colts and fillies felt definitely more inviting at the moment.

Intending to find his old amigo, Paco, who now worked for him, he headed out of his office. The former de la Vega vaquero and his wife were Felipe and Ana Maria's only servants. Flora did most of the housework and helped Ana with the cooking and the children. Felipe remembered the argument he had had with his grandfather and father over the matter. Since he had refused to become Diego's heir when he had been adopted, Don Alejandro and Diego had made him accept a deal that gave him five hundred acres when he became a lawyer, another five hundred acres upon the elder de la Vega's death and then a thousand more upon Diego's death.

Felipe had not wanted to agree to this arrangement but finally acquiesced to the other two men's insistence. They had been concerned when he had built the modest adobe casa his family now lived in and became appalled at the lack of servants he and Ana had desired. Don Alejandro had offered his grandson his choice of ranch hands and house maids.

They just didn't understand, he thought with a shake of his head. He wasn't afraid of hard work and actually enjoyed it. It made for a nice contrast with the sedentary nature of his legal practice. He could only sit still for so long before he started to go stir-crazy.

He hadn't quite reached the front door when a loud rap sounded upon it. He opened it, saw who his guests were and said, "Hola, come in, come in."

Diego and Alfonso walked inside the casa. "Hola, Tio Felipe," greeted Alfonso. "Where's my cousins?"

Felipe didn't have time to answer as the boys in question came running into the foyer. "Alfonso, como esta?" asked the younger Diego upon seeing his cousin. Jaime toddled behind in his brother's wake and was babbling animatedly.

"Guess what, Diego?" said Alfonso before continuing excitedly, "the swords are here! And Papa says we can start our lessons tomorrow afternoon!"

Cousin Diego was suitably impressed as the elder Diego glanced over at the boy's father. "I assume that is all right with you?"

Felipe nodded, still wearing the huge grin. "I don't think you have much of a choice." He indicated the two lads who were now pretending to lunge at and parry each other with imaginary blades.

Diego chuckled at the muchachos' eagerness. No, he thought, he was going to have an easy time teaching these boys all he knew about fencing. It was something they obviously wanted to learn. And Diego had always found a willing student was an obedient student.

Just then, Ana Maria appeared in the archway leading to the kitchen, causing Diego to remember the bundle that Victoria had entrusted with him. "Buenas dias, Ana Maria," he said as he handed over the clothing. "Victoria said these were for young Jaime."

"Hola, Do. . .Diego," she replied. It had taken a couple of years for her to break the habit of calling her father-in-law Don Diego. It still didn't seem natural to say just his given name. She hid her discomfort by examining the garments he had given her. "Tell Victoria gracias."

"I will," he declared with a smile.

"How is she doing?" asked Ana Maria.

The mirth faded from Diego's face but he hesitated only a second before answering. "She's just fine," he lied.

Chapter Text

Felipe and Ana Maria turned to look at each, both sure the other man was not telling the truth. Felipe just shrugged his shoulders at his wife. If his father didn't want to talk about it, it was not their business to question him.

Ana Maria had other ideas however. "Bueno," she replied. "If you don't think she would mind, maybe we all could visit tomorrow. You and Felipe can teach the boys and Victoria and I can catch up on our gossip. It seems like it's been ages since I've seen her,." She gave her father-in-law a challenging stare along with an innocent smile.

Diego saw through the transparent invitation. But as much as he wanted to refuse it, he knew he had no option but to accept it. To rebuff the offer would cast doubt upon the lie he had just told.

"I'm sure she will enjoy it," he said somewhat ungraciously.

Felipe, feeling the tension between his wife and father, decided to diffuse it. "I was just on my way out to check on the yearlings. Would you like to join me, Diego?"

The elder de la Vega had to smile a little at his son's diplomacy. "Very well," he agreed.

The two men walked in silence over the rocky ground. Felipe pulled a cigar from his shirt pocket, first offering it to Diego, who shook his head in refusal. Shrugging his shoulders, the younger man lit up the cheroot.

Diego finally broke the quiet. "How is the training coming along?" he asked.

"Good," replied Felipe. He pointed in the direction of the paddock. "See those two bays?" Diego nodded. "I'm carriage breaking them for Jose Montero. The rest I'm saddle breaking."

The yearlings noticed the men's approach and almost all of them sprinted away to the other side of the paddock. But one lone horse moseyed up to the fence and waited for Felipe.

He reached out and patted the filly's glossy neck. She immediately stuck her nose up to his shirt front. From his other pocket, Felipe pulled out a lump of sugar, which the roan quickly made disappeared.

"It seems she has you well trained," laughed Diego.

"Si, she does," Felipe chuckled as well. "Mariquita, she does love sugar."

"She seems fond of you as well," Diego observed as he stroked the other side of the yearling's neck.

"Si," said his son a bit abashedly. "I plan on giving Ana Mariquita for her birthday."

"I didn't know Ana Maria could ride," stated Diego.

"She can't." Felipe wore an impish grin. "She's going to learn. She just doesn't know it yet."

Diego laughed again. Then they both watched silently for several minutes as the horses ran about the corral.

"I miss it sometimes," Felipe commented solemnly.

Diego was perplexed by this statement. "Miss what?" he inquired.

"You know, the excitement, the adventure and yes, even the danger," explained his son. "I mean, it was an exciting time. And I was the only other person to know the truth. Me, a lowly peasant boy; I knew the biggest secret in Los Angeles."

"Zorro," said Diego gruffly, realizing now what the younger man meant.

"Si, Zorro," replied Felipe. "I think you miss it as much as I do."

Diego stared at his eldest son. Felipe was right, of course . He realized the young man probably knew him better than anyone else, including Victoria and his father. Way down in the recesses of his soul, he missed it too. He knew he shouldn't. He was extremely grateful he married the woman he loved, that he was the father of four fine sons with another child on the way, and for the fact he escaped the whole charade with his life. But... dammit, sometimes he craved the excitement and like Felipe said, even the danger the masked man had brought to his life.

"It's why you're going to teach the boys how to fence, isn't it?" inquired Felipe, although he already knew the answer.

"Si." Diego didn't even try to lie. He might be able to get away with lying to Victoria, his father and even to himself. But Felipe was another story. He shook his head. "Zorro is in the past now, hijo," he declared. "And that is where he is going to stay."

"I know," replied the young man. "But that doesn't mean you still don't..."

"I don't," insisted Diego a bit angrily.

Now it was Felipe's turn to shake his head. "You can tell yourself that, Diego. But we both know it's a lie." Sensing he was irritating his father, he changed subjects, albeit to another touchy one. "How is Victoria really?"

"I said she is fine."

Felipe sighed. "We both know that's not true either. It's obvious you're worried sick about her." He patted Diego on the shoulder. "She'll be all right, Diego. Remember, she's a fighter."

"I know," replied Diego with a defeated air. He glanced at his grown son and gave him a half-smile. "Well, I'll let you get back to your work. Tomorrow after siesta, then?"

"Si," confirmed Felipe. He absently stroked Mariquita's nose as he watched his father walk away. Once more he shook his head. It was frustrating. He knew what was bothering Diego but there wasn't anything anyone could do about it until the older man admitted it to himself.

"Come on, girl," he said to the roan. "Let's see if you're ready to try a saddle today."

With one last pat, Felipe strode to the tack room to find the promised item.

The next afternoon, Alfonso was almost beside himself with anticipation. He rarely napped anymore during siesta time, but today it had been impossible. He laid on his bed, deep in thought, picturing himself swinging his blade. In his mind, he was all dressed in black, wearing a mask. He was Zorro. And he was going to fight the bad guys.

"Alfonso," said his father quietly from the bedroom doorway, breaking into the lad's daydreaming. The boy sat up in a flash.

"Si, Papa?"

"Tio Felipe and Cousin Diego are here to start the lessons."

No words had ever sounded sweeter to the young Alfonso's ears. He eagerly leapt off his bed and followed his father through the hacienda and into the courtyard. There, waiting, were his uncle and cousin. Alfonso could tell the younger boy was as excited as he was.

"Well, then, let's get started," suggested Diego. He opened the box that held the swords and handed one to each of the boys.

It took several minutes and Felipe's assistance to show the lads how to grip the weapons properly. Alfonso and the young Diego looked at each other, both feeling the hold a bit awkward. Maybe this wasn't going to be as fun as they thought it would be.

The elder Diego smiled as he guessed their thoughts. "They're not sticks." He then picked up his own sword, the one that Sir Edmund had given him; the one he had used as Zorro. "Let's begin with the eight parry positions. Prime."

The two muchachos quickly imitated each move as Diego called them out and demonstrated each one. This went on for nearly half an hour until Diego sensed the boys were growing bored.

"All right, then," he said. "Let's try lunges now."

Alfonso and his cousin glanced at each other and grinned. They were really learning how to fence! They clumsily thrust their épées forward.

Again Felipe helped Diego as he correct the boys' stances. After a quarter of an hour, Diego once again called a halt. He glanced over at Felipe and winked.

"I think you're ready to try some blade to blade work now," he announced with a grin, knowing the two lads would be overjoyed by this statement.

And he wasn't wrong. Both Alfonso and the younger Diego were nearly jumping with excitement. Now the fun was really going to begin!

"Watch what Felipe and I do, then do the same," instructed Diego. Felipe picked up his own sword.

The two men saluted each other, then established themselves in the en garde position. The youngsters eagerly followed suit.

"We will take turns attacking and parrying." Diego motioned for Felipe to lunge at him. "Prime," he called out.

The sound of steel on steel filled the courtyard. The noise drew the attention of the people inside the hacienda. First, the twins, Alejandro and Francisco poked their heads through the archway leading outside. They were followed several minutes later by their mother, Victoria; Ana Maria and little Jaime, who was being carried by his mother.

Their audience made the young pupils a little nervous and they began to make mistakes. Diego noticed what was happening and also saw that the pair were starting to tire.

"That's enough for today," he stated. Alfonso and the younger Diego were both a little disappointed but deep down were a bit relieved as well. The muscles in Alfonso's arm were burning and his fingers felt stiff from griping the hilt so tightly for so long.

Both mothers looked down at their sons, then at each other and smiled. It seemed like the misgivings they had had when Diego mentioned teaching the boys fencing were unfounded. The first lesson had gone quite well.

"Maria has lemonade in the sala," announced Victoria. The two students ducked quickly inside the hacienda, the twins close on their heels.

"So how did it go?" inquired Victoria as she rubbed her swollen stomach.

"Quite well," replied Diego. "They both have a natural affinity for the blade, in my opinion."

Felipe nodded. He too was a little surprised by how swiftly the boys learned the basic skills. It was true, they had been pretending to sword fight for years, almost since they could walk.

The rest of them headed into the sala where Maria, the de la Vega housekeeper, was busily pouring glasses of the freshly squeezed lemonade. Plates of little cakes and fruit tarts also had been placed on the long table.

After they had all eaten and drank their fill, Felipe inquired about the vineyards. That query led to Diego talking about them and the various wines he was thinking of making for nearly half an hour. Felipe was sorry he asked as he noticed Ana and Victoria's eyes glazing over with boredom. Always the gentleman, he suggested that Diego show him the vines of which the older man spoke.

Diego eagerly seized the idea and the two men rose from their chairs, intending to leave the hacienda. Alfonso and the younger Diego also got to their feet.

"Can we be excused?" asked Alfonso. "Can we go outside to play?"

"Whoa, one question at a time, hijo," replied Diego, trying to keep a straight face. "And it's ‘may I', not ‘can I'."

"Sorry, Papa," said the youngster contritely but then swiftly changed his tone. "So may we?"

"Si," acquiesced Diego. The two boys started heading toward the door but his next words brought them to a halt. "Don't go near the river, muchachos. The rains last month left patches of quicksand near its banks. So stay away from it."

"Si, Papa." "Si, Tio Diego." The pair then ran out the door before anyone else could think of something else to warn them not to do.

Half an hour later, Alfonso and Diego stood on the banks of the Porciuncula River, throwing stones into its muddy, rushing waters.

"So what does quicksand look like anyway?" asked Diego as he heaved another rock into the river.

Alfonso waited until he heard and saw the splash it made before answering. "Regular sand, I guess," he replied with a shrug. "Papa says he's seen it swallow up a whole cow before."

"Whoa, I'd like to see that," stated his cousin, very impressed. "I wonder if my papa saw it too."

"Probably," responded Alfonso. He grunted as he picked up a very large stone and tossed it as far as he could. The weight of it almost flung him into the water as well. But luckily he regained his balance just in time.

Both boys laughed as the rock made a loud ‘kerplunk'. Alfonso searched around for more big stones. As his gaze traveled up the embankment, he pointed out something to his companion. "What's that?"

"Where? I can't see anything," complained Diego. He started jumping up and down, hoping to get a better view.

"Over there, behind that tree," directed Alfonso. The youngster began walking toward it, his curious cousin right on his heels.

"Looks like a chimney," declared Diego, a bit unnecessarily as they could now see that was exactly what it was. "And look, there's a house too."

If such a poorly constructed hovel could be called a house. It was very small, not even as large as Alfonso's bedroom. It was built with a myriad of materials; bricks, sticks, mud and bales of straw. There were no windows and the door was just a dusty, ragged blanket tacked across the hut's only portal.

The boys moved nearer to it, wondering who lived in such a place. There were a few chickens scratching and pecking at the ground not far from what looked like the remains of a tiny garden.

"Maybe nobody lives here anymore," suggested Diego hopefully.

"Maybe," replied Alfonso. "We could make it our secret hideout."

"Si, just like Zorro's cave," agreed his cousin, taking to the idea immediately. "We should look inside, to make sure."

Alfonso had been thinking the same thing. But for some reason, he was very reluctant to do so. There was something a little odd about this place but he couldn't think why he felt so.

"You look in there, Diego," he said, the challenge clear in his voice as he indicated the hovel's doorway.

The younger boy shook his head. "I think you should. You're older than me."

"So? It was your idea."

"You want it to be our hideout."

"So do you." Alfonso realized this argument was getting them nowhere. He noticed Diego was staring at him with a look that unmistakably said that his cousin thought he was a coward. Well, he would just have to show the niño he was no such thing.

"Oh, all right, I'll do," Alfonso declared. Noticing that Diego's countenance had changed to one of admiration, he walked toward the torn blanket covering the entrance to the small hut.

He lifted his hand up so he could pull back the cloth so he could peer inside. But he was not given the chance. It was violently yanked aside, causing Alfonso to stumble backward several steps.

An old man stood in the doorway, a furious expression on his wrinkled, dirty face. "Who are you?" he asked in a angry, gruff voice. "Just what do you think you're doing on my land?"

Both Alfonso and Diego jumped, startled by the man's appearance and voice. Diego was the first to recover his composure.

"I'm Diego de la Vega," he stated boldly.

The wizened old man seemed to pale at this announcement. "De la Vega?" he queried, almost a whisper.

"Si," replied Alfonso, also getting over his shock. "I am Alfonso de la Vega. My papa and my abuelo own all the land around here."

The stranger mulled over these statements for a few moments. "I see," he finally said. "Well, I'm pleased to meet the both of you. Are you two brothers?"

"Oh, no," responded Alfonso. "Diego is my cousin. His papa is my Tio Felipe."

"He's a lawyer," Diego chimed in. "The bestest lawyer in the territory."

"So your father is...?" the man asked as he pointed at Alfonso.

"Diego de la Vega," answered the boy. "My cousin here is named after him."

"Diego de la Vega," echoed the old stranger. A mocking smile crept onto his leathery face as he muttered to himself, "Zorro."

He glanced at the two lads, taking in their healthy countenances and noticing their clothes, although streaked with dirt, were of the finest quality.

"Well, you muchachos are far from home, aren't you?" he inquired casually, tamping back down the anger he felt.

"Not really," Alfonso rationalized. "We were just playing in the river."

"I see," the man repeated, not missing the guilty expressions both boys wore. Obviously they either didn't have permission to be this far away or to play in the river or both. He smiled. "Well, my name is Juan Maldonado. Are you lads hungry? I have some bread and fruit."

"Oh no, gracias, Señor Maldonado," replied Alfonso. "We couldn't impose." The ways of a gentleman had been impressed upon the youngster almost from birth.

"It's no problem," said the old man. "In fact, I would enjoy the company." He grinned again. "I like little boys."

Chapter Text

Felipe and Diego walked slowly back to the hacienda after their inspection of the vineyards and the winery. The latter was in the final stages of construction and was due to be completed before the harvest in the fall.

The younger man was impressed by the care and attention to detail that Diego lavished on the operation. Felipe grinned as he realized it was all probably caused by his adopted father's frustrations. He chased the thought from his mind as he noticed that Diego was still speaking about the wine making process.

"...and that's why it's vital the grapes are picked at precisely the right moment," stated Diego. He glanced over at his son, who smiled and nodded. He failed to notice the glazed look in Felipe's eyes as he continued. "The sugar content is so important. It can make or break the quality of the wine."

Felipe chuckled, causing Diego to stop and stare at him. "What's so amusing?" the older man asked somewhat defensively.

"This sudden interest in viticulture," commented his son. "You don't even drink wine."

"It's not all that sudden, Felipe," Diego pointed out. "Remember that trip to France I took ten years ago to learn about wine making? It has just taken this long for the dream to become a reality." He turned and swept his hand across the rows of vines. "All this, Felipe, means employment for the people of Los Angeles. We're going to need men to pick the grapes, then process them into wine.

"Of course, we can't employ all of them year long but hopefully by paying them decent wages for their work, they'll be able to support their families," declared Diego. "Victoria has already promised to buy what she needs for the tavern. And the Americanos who own the new general store, they have agreed to purchase ten cases."

"Señores Temple and Rice have done quite well for themselves in the four years since they first arrived in Los Angeles and set up their shop," replied Felipe, seizing at the opportunity to change the subject to something other than wine.

"And some people have resented that, haven't they?" asked Diego.

"Si," Felipe answered tersely. He had represented the two Americans for more than their share of lawsuits. Claims of damaged goods, rotten food, and other allegations of poor merchandise had plagued the storekeepers since they opened their business. Most of Los Angeles's citizens had welcomed the choices the new shop offered. But there were a few who begrudged the changes that were occurring in the fast-growing pueblo.

"There will always be some who will to cling to the old ways," commented Diego. "Father was saying just the other day that about one third of the pueblo's population is now Americans. And more are arriving every month, it seems."

"That's true," agreed his adopted son. "Did abuelo tell you the latest news?" He hoped that elderly caballero had because he didn't like to be the bearer of bad news. His profession as a lawyer had him conveying it more often than he cared to do so.

"No."

"An Americano is opening another inn in Los Angeles," Felipe informed the other man. "Almost directly across the plaza from Victoria's tavern. He's going to start construction next month."

Diego shut his eyes as he absorbed this information. A new hostelry in town would surely take away business from his wife's establishment. But there was more than enough commerce for the two inns to share.
It concerned Diego that she worried about the tavern as much as she did. She didn't need its income anymore and she left its day-to-day operation now to Mendoza. The soldier had retired his commission two years earlier and Victoria had immediately hired him as her manager. But Diego still knew her reaction to this news wasn't going to be pleasant.

The men had reached the hacienda , entering the courtyard via a side entrance. Victoria and Ana Maria were sitting close together on a bench with the younger woman whispering in the older woman's ear. They sprang apart guiltily at their husbands' approach.

"I'll just have Maria fetch those skirts for you," stated Victoria, trying to sound as normal as possible. "I can't believe I need them let out again so soon."

Diego knew that his wife's skirts had not been the topic the two women had been discussing so intimately. The pretty pink blush on Victoria's cheeks gave away the fact that something quite different had been the subject of the cozy talk. He was sure he didn't want to know what it had been but knew he would unwillingly find out anyway.

"Oh, it's no problem," announced Ana Maria, breaking into his thoughts. She wore a slightly amused grin on her lips. "I had to let mine out three times when I was carrying Jaime."

Felipe's expression matched that of his wife's, as he had a very good idea of the women's topic of discussion. He bent down to pick up his son, who was sitting on the tiled floor watching his twin cousins attempting to spin a wooden top. Jaime tried to squirm away as his father planted a kiss on his forehead.

"Are Alfonso and Diego still out?" inquired Diego after he had glanced around and didn't see the older two boys.

Victoria and Ana Maria looked at each other and both shrugged. "I guess so," Victoria answered. "They should be back soon. It's almost time for supper."

"They'll come back when they get hungry enough," assured Felipe. "I know I always did."

Any concern for the boys was shunted aside as Don Alejandro ambled into the courtyard. "Hola," he greeted them boisterously. It did his old heart a world of good to see all of his family gathered together. It hadn't been that long ago he had given up on having any grandchildren besides Felipe. Now he had a whole hacienda full. The old don kept praying fervently though that this coming child of Diego and Victoria's was a girl. He loved his grandsons but... A niña pequeña like the one he and Felicidad had lost, would make up for so much.

"Everyone is staying for supper?" he asked in way that made it sound more like a command. The old caballero grinned broadly as he was reassured that Felipe, Ana Maria, and their children were doing just that.

Diego winced as the news that Felipe had related to him earlier now tumbled from his father's lips. "Mendoza was telling me all about it," Don Alejandro was saying. "Right across the plaza, can you believe it?"

"Believe what, Father?" queried Victoria.

"An Americano is going to build a new hotel in that empty space between the bank and the old general store," declared the elderly don.

"Another inn?" his daughter-in-law echoed. She tried to keep the anger and fear out of her voice but failed miserably. She shot an unnerving glance at her husband that plainly read, ‘why didn't you tell me?'

"Si," confirmed Don Alejandro. "Señor Williams plans to start building next month."

Nobody said anything for a few minutes as they all digested this bit of information. Ana Maria sent a sympathetic glance Victoria's way. Fortunately the tension was broken by the arrival of the two boys.

"Where have you boys been?" scolded Victoria, taking out some of her anger on the unsuspecting lads. "It's almost time for supper."

"Sorry, Mama," said Alfonso contritely. "We didn't mean to be late." His cousin nodded in agreement.

"Well, no harm done," Don Alejandro said, trying to diffuse the situation. "Muchachos, go wash up."

The boys started to march into the hacienda but Diego spied mud on their boots. He halted their progress by stepping in front of them. "Alfonso," he said sternly, "did you go down by the river?"

His son threw a quick glance at his cousin and Diego could see the guilt on both their young faces.

"We didn't mean too, Tio Diego," piped up his namesake. "We just wanted to see the quick. . ."

The younger Diego's explanation was interrupted by a sharp elbow to his ribs by Alfonso. "We just wanted to see it real quick," he fibbed, trying to cover up his cousin's bluntness. "We're sorry, Papa."

"Alfonso," said his father, shaking his head. "You need to understand the danger. The river has been near flooding all winter. It's not a safe place to play."

"We won't go there again, I promise," vowed the youngster. He tried to look as angelic as possible, causing the elder Diego to suppress a chuckle.

"And to make sure you keep that promise," Diego said, becoming serious again, "you won't be able to ride your pony for a week."

"Papa! No, please!" Alfonso was heartbroken by this prospect. He barely noticed as his cousin also received the same punishment from his parents.

"I'm sorry, Alfonso," said Diego. "I told you to stay away from the river and you disobeyed me. You have to be punished."

"We're really sorry," stated the younger Diego. "We won't do it again. Not even to go visit. . ."

Once again the boy's speech was disrupted by Alfonso who kicked him in the shin. The older boy shot the younger one a silencing glance.

Fortunately the elder Diego had stopped listening and had moved out of the boys' way. "Go wash your hands. If you're late for supper, you'll be in even more trouble. But not from me, from Maria."

He smiled as he said this, a grin cause by the scared looks on the lads' faces. They hustled off to go do as they were bid.

Diego's mirth disappeared, however, as he turned and saw his wife. The expression on her face foretold he was going to be in trouble himself later that evening once their guests were gone and the children tucked in for the night.

Ana Maria sat at her vanity table, brushing her long black curls. She had changed into her nightgown while Felipe tucked their boys into their beds. Felipe stood in the bedroom doorway after completing his task. He smiled appreciatively at the sight of his beautiful wife.

He came up behind her and began to massage her shoulders and neck. Ana spent a few hours a couple days a week helping out her mother, Leonora Ortega Mendoza, the pueblo's seamstress. That morning had been one of those days and the time spent hunched over sewing the fine seams made her muscles sore. Felipe did what he could to help make her feel better. Plus he just enjoyed touching her whenever he could.

"Hmm, that feels good," Ana Maria purred as he gently kneaded her shoulders. She set down the hairbrush and leaned her head back to look up at her husband. "Did I tell you about Ricardo and Roberto?"

Felipe shook his head.

"Ricardo got a ribbon for being the best speller in his class," declared his wife, her voice full of pride of her adopted brother. "And of course Roberto couldn't be outdone, so he earned a ribbon too."

"I imagine Mendoza was very excited," Felipe said with a smile. "He dotes on those boys."

Ana Maria laughed. "Like you don't spoil yours," she said teasingly. Felipe had moved his hands from her shoulders to her arms and in a motion that was no accident, his fingers grazed along the sides of her breasts. She shut her eyes and moaned at the unexpected caress. "I've been thinking, we should have another baby."

Felipe eyed her curiously. "What brought this on?" he asked.

"Oh, seeing Victoria pregnant," explained Ana, "and little Jaime is getting so big. He's nearly two already. And. . ." she added somewhat despondently, "he starting to wean himself."

Felipe knelt down beside her chair and leaned close to her ear. "What were you and Victoria whispering about when Diego and I came back from the vineyards?"

Ana Maria turned so she could speak directly into his ear. Felipe chuckled at first, then his eyes grew big.

"You mean... they've never...?" he managed to choke out as he stood upright. Felipe glanced down at his wife. "I mean... we do that all the time."

"I know."

"Do you think she'll try it?"

"I don't know," replied his wife with a shrug. "She was upset with him about the boys." She gazed up at him with a look in her dark brown eyes he knew very well.

"Are you sure you want another baby so soon?" asked Felipe, trying not to think of the surprise his adopted father might receive that night. He himself would love another child. But he did worry about having too many babies too soon. Diego had told him long ago that childbirth took a heavy toll on women.

Felipe wanted to make sure his Ana was around for a very long time. "I mean, you are still nursing," he pointed out. "You probably can't even get pregnant yet."

Ana Maria rose from the vanity bench to press herself up against her husband. "I know," she said with a wicked grin. "I thought maybe we could just practice a little." She lifted her head and kissed him on the mouth.

"How did I get so lucky?" he asked once he could breath again. Not waiting for a response, he began to kiss her neck.

"I don't know," whispered Ana. "Maybe the same way I did. I love you, querido."

Somehow, Ana Maria's nightdress slid down into a puddle of white onto the floor before Felipe carried her over to their bed. "I love you too, querida," he murmured before kissing her once again.

Chapter Text

The evening passed quite differently at the other de la Vega household. Once their guests had departed and Alfonso and the twins were readied for bed, it was quite a while before Victoria and Diego had a chance to talk. And it would have been postponed indefinitely if Diego had his way.

He closed the door to Alfonso's room after he had tucked the boy in for the night. The lad was still upset with him for taking away his pinto for a week. "But Frijol won't remember me," Alfonso had wailed earlier. "He'll think I hate him."

Diego had remained firm in upholding the punishment. Finally the boy had resigned himself to his fate and grudgingly bade his father goodnight.

Don Alejandro had gone to bed right after Felipe and Ana Maria left. He had been out since dawn that morning, moving the cattle to their winter pastures. Diego hated to admit it (but not nearly as much as his father did) but the old caballero was starting to slow down. He complained more of aches and pains . Tasks around the rancho that five years ago were no problem now were getting more difficult for Don Alejandro to accomplish at all.

Diego's concerns for his father dissipated as he entered the bedroom he shared with his wife. Victoria was in her nightdress which prominently displayed her swollen stomach. He looked up from her belly to her eyes and gulped. Then he smiled. She was still beautiful when she was angry.

"Diego," she said softly, "I know that Alfonso deserved to be punished. He did disobey you. But to decide his punishment yourself... without... without consulting me." She was so mad she had trouble getting her words out coherently. "I am his mother, you know," she added defensively.

"I know."

Victoria sat down on the bed, suddenly weary. She stared down at the bulge that was now her lap. "It just seems like you are making all the decisions concerning him lately. It's like my opinion doesn't even matter anymore."

Diego knelt down before her, taking her hands in his. "I'm sorry, querida.

"He's my son too," she declared. "Why didn't you take away the sword fighting lessons?" She laughed bitterly. "Because it's something you want to do, isn't it?"

Diego sighed. "I didn't think it would be much of a hardship since he just had his first lesson today. Not letting him ride Frijol is much more effective as a punishment."

"You're probably right," Victoria conceded, although she still wasn't happy about it. She looked away, biting her lip as another thought crossed her mind. One that had been plaguing her for a couple of months.

He could see the tears beginning to glisten in his wife's eyes and immediately felt contrite. He had been making decisions without consulting her and keeping certain things from her as well. But he rationalized he was only trying to keep her from unnecessary worry in her condition. He should have expected that Victoria would be upset with him once she realized what he was doing. He was not, however, prepared for the words she spoke next.

"Do you have a mistress, Diego?"

Totally stunned, he could not even begin to form an answer to her shocking question for several minutes. Then he stupidly shook his head and stammered out, "N.. no. No.. of course... Of course not. Why... why would you even think such a thing?"

The threatened tears began flowing down Victoria's face. "Because you've been so preoccupied lately. I can tell you've grown restless and you disappear for hours. And..." she added as she began to sob, "you haven't touched me in months."

"Dios mio, Victoria," he said more roughly than he meant to do. "You're going to have a baby. You haven't been feeling well and..."

"It's because I'm so fat, isn't it?" she queried through her tears. "You find me repulsive."

"Querida, no," he replied. Diego took her chin in his hand and made her look him in the eyes. "I love you, Victoria and no one else." He smiled roguishly. "I like that you've added a few pounds in certain places."

"So you are saying I'm fat," she spat out angrily. Diego rolled his eyes and thought he would have been better off keeping his mouth shut. Pregnant women and their moods. There was no correct way to deal with them, he was finding out to his despair.

"No, not at all." He gathered her into his arms and kissed her. "I love you," he reiterated. "There will never be anyone else. Believe it, querida."

Victoria pull away from him then tried to dry her face with her hands. "Prove it," she said challengingly.

Diego was surprised once again. "Prove what?" he asked curiously.

"That you love me and you find me attractive," Victoria dared.

"What do you want me to do?" He had a very good idea of what she wanted. But he was afraid. Of hurting her. Of hurting the baby. One of the things he had been keeping from her was that Doctor Hernandez had taken him aside after checking on Victoria two months earlier. The physician had been appalled that the couple had still been engaging in marital relations.

Victoria looked down at him seductively. "Oh, I think you know what I want," she said with a smile.

One glance at his wife's face told Diego that she wasn't going to take no for an answer. But what else could he say? "Querida, I. . .we. . .cannot. . .I mean.. . I don't want to hur..." he began to stammer as he tried to think of a diplomatic way out of this dilemma.

Victoria placed one of her fingers against his lips before he could finish. "I know something we can do that won't hurt the baby." The smile on her face told him he was about to find out what she and Ana Maria had been talking about earlier in the courtyard. Madre de Dios.

She leaned over as far as she could and he rose up to meet her halfway. Sure enough, what she whispered into his ear made his eyes grow big, among other things. Diego did have one stray thought though, however. How on earth did Felipe and Ana Maria know about such intimacies? It certainly wasn't something he had told his adopted son about when he had explained the birds and the bees long ago to the teen aged boy.

He sighed resignedly, accepting his fate. Then he grinned. It wasn't everyday that your very pregnant wife suggested something like this. He should be counting his blessings.

Which Diego did as he gathered Victoria into his arms and laid her down gently onto their bed.

It had been the longest week in Alfonso's young life. Never, since he had learned how to ride, never had he gone so long without riding his pony. He had spent as much time as he possibly dared out in the stable the past seven days. Alfonso hoped that by doing so Frijol would not have forgotten him.

Not even the weekly fencing lesson had cheered him up. All right, it had a little. His cousin Diego didn't seem too upset about his punishment though. He and Tio Felipe had come by themselves on the appointed day. And Diego had gotten to ride on a horse with his father.

It just wasn't fair, thought Alfonso. He had had to wait until the next day before he could saddle up Frijol and go out for a long ride.

And now another week had passed, seemingly much quicker than the previous one. And once again his cousin would soon be at the hacienda for another fencing lesson. Alfonso was almost as excited about the lesson as he was about what he and Diego had planned for afterwards.

"Now," said Diego as the boys and Felipe had gathered in the hacienda courtyard, "today, we're going to learn to riposte. Alfonso, Diego, assume the en garde position, por favor."

The lads eagerly raised their foils and followed Diego's instructions diligently. Alfonso liked to think he was learning faster than his cousin but knew in the back of his mind that he and Diego were evenly matched. That reality didn't stop him from thinking he was Zorro and his cousin was the evil alcalde.

All too soon, the lesson was over. Alfonso and Diego carefully wiped off their blades and put them back into their case. Once again, Victoria had a snack waiting for them in the sala.

"May we be excused?" asked Alfonso after he had eaten his fill of his mama's delicious flan.

"Of course, hijo," Victoria agreed with a tired smile.

"Gracias." Alfonso wiped his mouth with his napkin and glanced over at his cousin who did the same. The boys left the room in a cacophony of scrapping chairs.

"Did you bring the chocolate?" asked Diego once they were outside.

"Si," replied Alfonso. "And I hid a loaf of bread in the stable."

The cousins quickly found the trail they had taken two weeks earlier. Today, however, the Porciuncula River was not their destination.

"Señor Maldonado! Señor Maldonado!" the boys called out when they reached the shabby little hut. It looked as deserted as it had when they had first stumbled upon it.

"Maybe he's not here," suggested Diego. "Maybe we should go back."

"Just a minute," Alfonso replied. He walked purposefully up to the blanketed doorway. "Señor, it's us, Alfonso and Digo. Don't be afraid."

There seemed to be no movement inside the shack. "I don't think he's home," said Digo. "Let's go."

"I think you're right," agreed Alfonso. The boys turned to go.

"Hola!" The dusty, tattered blanket was pushed to one side and Señor Maldonado stepped outside.

Both boys rushed over to him. "Look, we brought some food," Diego said excitedly, pulling out the slab of chocolate from his jacket pocket. Alfonso also produced the loaf of bread he had filched from the de la Vega kitchen.

"What do you think I am, a charity case?" growled the old man angrily.

"Oh, no sir," replied Alfonso, intimidated by the man's anger. "We can't invite you... I mean..."

"You didn't tell your parents about me, did you?" surmised Señor Maldonado.

"No," both boys answered in unison. Alfonso added, "Since we can't invite you to our house for dinner, we thought we would bring it to you."

"Very well," conceded Señor Maldonado. "Come in, come in." He pulled aside the blanket in a welcoming gesture.

Alfonso and Diego eagerly bounded inside. Their host stood outside for a moment, an peculiar smile on his wrinkled old face. Chuckling quietly to himself, he ducked inside his squalid home.

Late February 1832

When will it stop raining? thought the elder Diego as he stared out the library window at the dismal, gray clouds. Never before could he remember there being such a wet winter in Alta California.

The normal trickle that was the Porciuncula River was now a turbulent rush of muddy water. Some of the lower-lying farms were in danger of being flooded. Many head of cattle had been swept away or lost in the rapidly multiplying patches of quicksand.

But Diego was more worried about the effect all the excess moisture would have on his grapes. True, they wouldn't be ready to pick until late September, but this was going to be the first major harvest of his vines and he wanted everything to be perfect. He had invested so much of his time and energy into this project. Diego hated the idea of it all being for naught.

Diego also wondered if Felipe and young Diego would be able to make to the hacienda that day for the boys's fencing lesson. He shrugged his shoulders. If they were unable to come, he and Alfonso could practice by themselves.

Moving away from the window, Diego walked over to the settee and picked up the wine-making book he had been reading. A clap of thunder made him pause for a moment before he sat down.

"Papa," said Alfonso anxiously as he came running into the room about the same time as a flash of lightening could be seen in the distance. "Are we going to have to cancel the lesson?"

"No, hijo," reassured his father. "If your tio and cousin cannot make it, you and I will practice anyway."

"Gracias, papa," replied the relieved youngster. He sat down on the couch next to Diego.

The next rumble of thunder sounded even closer. After the last vestiges of it has faded, a loud pounding was heard at the front door. Alfonso gleefully jumped off the settee.

"They made it!" he exclaimed before scampering toward the door.

The commotion caused by the four soaking-wet people entering the hacienda drew the attention of most of its inhabitants. Victoria and Don Alejandro rushed to the foyer as dripping jackets and rebozos were removed and fluffy towels were handed out.

"We were almost here before we got hit by this cloudburst," explained Felipe as he rubbed a towel on his damp hair.

"Well the main thing is that you all arrived here safely," stated Don Alejandro as he draped a towel around his grandson Diego's shoulders.

"I'm surprised you and Jaime came along," said Diego to Ana Maria.

"We'd been cooped up in our casa all week," replied his daughter-in-law as she dried off her youngest son. "It had stopped raining long enough this morning, I'd thought we risked it just to get out of the house."

"Well, I'm glad you did," Victoria declared, smiling at Ana Maria. She had been going stir-crazy as well, because of the inclement weather and her advancing pregnancy, she hadn't left the hacienda for several weeks.

"I think we'll work on our footwork today," announced Diego once his eldest son's family was sufficiently dried. He had to suppress a chuckle as his pupils groaned in protest.

"I hate footwork," Alfonso hissed in his cousin's ear as his father went to retrieve their foils. "It's so boring."

Diego nodded his agreement. "But Papa says it's very important," he added solemnly.

"I know, mine too," replied Alfonso who shook his head sadly and watched as his father and uncle moved the rugs from the foyer floor.

The lesson flew by too quickly in Alfonso's opinion. It seemed like only a matter of minutes when his father called a halt and they all went into the sala for refreshments. The young lad was heartened though as he walked by a window and saw that it was no longer raining.

Alfonso and Diego ate their tarts as fast as they could. The older boy obediently placed his napkin on his plate then glanced at his parents. "May I be excused?" he asked.

Diego smiled fondly at the boy's polite manners. "Si, hijo, you may," he replied. "Why don't you show Diego the new book you just received from Spain."

"I thought we could go outside," Alfonso declared, quickly pointing at the window as the adults began to protest. "Look, it's stopped raining. Can't we go out for just a little bit?"

Diego glanced over at Victoria. The children had been confined indoors for several days because of the bad weather. She nodded, seemingly reading his mind as did Felipe and Ana Maria who were silently agreeing as well..

"Very well, muchachos," he acquiesced. "But only for a hour or until it starts raining again." He held up a warning hand as the boys darted toward the door. "And don't go far from the hacienda."

"We won't," Alfonso said over his shoulder as he and his cousin exited the house.

"Are we going to Señor Maldonado's?" whispered Diego conspiratorially as the boys walked past the stables. Alfonso nodded. "But you told your papa we wouldn't go far."

"It's not that far," reasoned Alfonso. "As long as we get home before dark, everything will be fine."

"I just don't want to get in trouble again," stated Diego worriedly.

"We won't," repeated Alfonso. "Come on, we need to hurry."

The two lads began running determinedly toward their destination.

Chapter Text

When the two lads reached the river, they saw that it had nearly overrun its banks. The roar of the water was almost deafening.

"Madre de Dios," muttered Diego under his breath as he stared at the swollen stream..

"Señor Maldonado?" Alfonso called out as they cautiously approached the man's shabby hovel. "Maybe he has moved to higher ground," he suggested when they received no answer.

"Maybe," agreed his cousin. The boys stared at the muddy water for several minutes as they both thought about what they should do. They were worried about their friend, but also didn't want to risk getting in trouble with their parents again.

"Let's go," said Alfonso suddenly. "He must have moved..." He cut off his words when he saw the old man emerge from behind the hut.

"Alfonso, Diego," Maldonado shouted in a surprised voice. "What are you doing here?"

"We came to visit you, sir," replied Alfonso. "It stopped raining so we wanted. . ."

Once again the muchacho interrupted himself as he felt a raindrop on his nose. Alfonso turned to look at Diego in dismay. Now they would have to leave before they could spend anytime with Señor Maldonado.

The old man kept a grin from creeping across his wrinkled face as he realized the boys's dilemma. "It's only a little sprinkle," he reassured them. Then he pointed up at the sky. "Look," he instructed, "there are patches of blue sky just right over there. It will stop soon."

The cousins glanced up and then at each other. Happy smiles erupted on their young faces. "All right," said Alfonso. "But we cannot stay long."

Maldonado walked to the blanket that served as a door to his hut and pushed it aside. Alejandro and Diego nearly skipped inside as the rain started to fall a little harder. The old man chuckled to himself as he disappeared into the gloomy darkness inside his home.

Back at the hacienda, the adults spent a pleasant afternoon catching up on the latest news and gossip. They played with Alejandro, Francisco, and Jaime when the boys had awoke from their naps. Diego and Felipe engaged in a game of chess which the younger man eventually won.

None of them realized how late it had become until a flash of lightening brightened the library's interior.

The "Dios mio" interjected by Don Alejandro as he jumped to his feet was nearly drowned out by the loud clap of thunder that followed soon after the lightening strike.

Victoria immediately roused herself from the drowsy state she had allowed herself to drift into as the others had conversed around her. "Alfonso and Diego," she cried out worriedly. "They haven't returned yet, have they?" She struggled to rise from the settee with much difficulty.

Diego rushed to her side to assist her to her feet. "I'll check the kitchen," he offered in what he hoped was a reassuring tone. "Those two rascals are probably spoiling their supper with treats they have charmed out of Maria."

As Diego strode to the other end of the hacienda, he was fuming inside. How dare Alfonso disobey him by not returning in a hour? Granted, he himself had lost track of time, but at least three hours had passed. The boys should have known to return as soon as the rain worsened and as the sky darkened. Diego was thinking that perhaps two weeks without his pony would teach his son to heed his instructions more carefully.

"Maria," he called out as he entered the kitchen. A quick glance around the room told his that his disobedient son and grandson were not present.

The housekeeper stood near the cooking fire and looked up as Diego stopped in the archway. "Dinner will be ready in half an hour," she remarked before returning to her work.

"Bueno, Maria," replied Diego. "You haven't seen Alfonso and Diego recently, have you?"

"No, Patrón," the housekeeper answered. "Not since earlier this afternoon."

"Gracias," said Diego through tight lips. He spun on his heel and made his way back to the library. On the way there, he thought that maybe a month of no pony and no fencing lessons might make a better impression on his miscreant offspring.

Diego stopped in his tracks. When had this stern disciplinarian taken over his mind? His father had never been this harsh with him. But then, he had almost never disobeyed his parents. The few times he did, he had make sure they never found out about it. He had been quite adept at keeping secrets from a young age.

Another rumble of thunder shook the hacienda and the rain was pelting down noisily on the tiled roof. A horrible thought sliced through Diego's thoughts. What if the boys were in danger? The storm was a strong one and he imagined the lads were scared. Perhaps they had sought shelter until the rain and thunder passed.

Diego quickly walked to the library where the others were still gathered. Pasting a false smile on his face, he entered the room.

"Maria says dinner will be ready in half an hour," he announced.

"Were the boys..." Victoria started to ask before she was cut off by more thunder.

"Don't worry, querida." Diego placed a reassuring hand on his wife's shoulder. "Everything is fine."

Victoria looked at him with an expression on her face that told him she didn't quite believe him. "I think I will just go see to the guest rooms," she stated. She turned to face Ana Maria and Felipe. "I think you should plan on staying the night."

"Gracias, Victoria," said Ana Maria. "I would hate to have had to go home in such terrible weather. Let me help you."

The other woman nodded and the two women left the library. Diego turned to his father and son, the fake cheerfulness he had worn for the women gone from his countenance.

"The boys are still out there," he declared.

"But I thought you said...." began Don Alejandro before realizing that his son had lied in front of the women.

"It's been at least three hours," remarked Felipe anxiously. "They could be anywhere."

Diego nodded. "I think we should split up our search."

"I think you're right, Diego," said his father. "Let's go"

"Father, I don't think you..." Diego started to say as he did not think the elder de la Vega should be out in the bad weather.

"I'm going," interrupted the old don. "Those boys are as much my responsibility as they are yours."

Diego sighed, realizing that he was not going to change his father's mind. "Very well," he relented. "You can check all the servants' cottages and the bunkhouse."

Don Alejandro started to protest but quickly closed his mouth. The look on his son's face told him that would be no more argument on the matter.

The elder de la Vega men started out of the room to get their jackets when Felipe grabbed Diego's arm. "What are we going to tell our wives?" he inquired. "We just can't leave without telling them the truth, Diego."

Diego glared at his oldest son for a second, then his shoulders sagged in defeat. "I know, Felipe," he acquiesced. "But how can I tell Victoria? She's nearly eight months pregnant. I don't want her to worry anymore than she already does."

"She'll worry more when her son doesn't show up for his supper and her husband disappears," remarked Don Alejandro. "Not to mention how furious she'll be at you for ‘protecting' her."

Diego knew his father was right. But again, there was no time for discussion. "We need to find the boys. Now." He didn't have to add ‘before it was too late' as that phrase was already going through the minds of the other two men. Diego strode out of the room as another bolt of lightening lit up the hacienda.

Felipe and his grandfather glanced at each other for a second before following after Diego.

About an hour later, it felt to Diego that he was soaked to his bones. The rain was relentless and to make conditions worse, the wind was gusting hard. Both he and Toronado were shivering from its effects. He had had to relight his lantern so many times, he had lost count.

Diego had searched the vineyards, especially the winery that was currently under construction. He looked beneath every board and brick, or so it seemed. There had been no sign of Alfonso and Diego ever have been near the place.

He sighed before remounting the big black stallion. There was only one place left to search and it was the one place that Diego feared he would find the two lost boys. Although in what condition, he didn't want to contemplate. Nudging Toronado softly with his heels, he swung the horse away from the half-completed building and toward what he knew must be the close-to-flooding banks of the Porciuncula River.

The wind was howling by the time he approached the once gentle stream. Diego's heart nearly skipped a beat as he gazed upon the roaring, rushing water. Madre de Dios, he prayed silently, don't let his son and grandson be caught up in muddy torrent of water.

Diego urged Toronado forward and they patrolled the north side of the river. He strained his ears, hopeful to hear cries of help over the roar of the stream.

Suddenly, Toronado began whinnying wildly and reared backward. Just as Diego lifted his lantern to see what was causing the animal to spook, the flame was blown out by a strong gust.

"Dammit," he muttered under his breath as he dismounted. Fumbling through his jacket pocket, he found the matches he had barely managed to keep dry. His efforts to light the lantern again were hampered by Toronado's nervous twitches and his icy cold fingers but finally a small flame began to flicker.

Diego lifted the light high but saw nothing on the path in front of him that would cause the Andalusian to panic. An idea came to him then. Opening one of his saddlebags, he took out a rock and tossed it about three meters ahead in the middle of the trail. It slowly sank, confirming Diego's suspicion that it was quicksand.

"Good boy," he said as he patted Toronado's neck. Taking the reins, he led the horse off the path, intending to go around the deadly hazard.

About at the same time Diego had left the winery, Don Alejandro blustered through the front doors of the hacienda, dripping wet and desolate. It took him and one of the male servants to push the doors closed as the wind was blowing so hard against it.

"Father, where have you been?" asked Victoria, coming into the foyer after hearing the disturbance the old don's entrance had caused. "Maria's been holding supper for almost an hour. Where are the boys? I've been worried sick. I thought Diego said that..."

Her father-in-law shook his head as he removed his soaked outer garments. "Alfonso and Diego haven't returned yet?"

"No," said Victoria, placing a hand on the bulge of her stomach. "What is going on?"

Don Alejandro decided it was time his daughter-in-law knew the truth. "The boys never came back this afternoon. We've been out looking for them. I've ruled out the barns, bunkhouse, and the cottages."

Victoria collapsed into one of the dining room chairs. "What do you mean they never came back?" she asked in a horrified whisper. "Diego said everything was fine," she added weakly. "Are you saying he lied to me?"

The old don hung his head. He knew this was going to happen. He wouldn't want to be in his son's shoes whenever he came home. "He didn't want you to worry," Don Alejandro said.

Ana Maria came into the room. "I got Jaime settled in for the night," she declared brightly. Her face became sober though as she saw those of Victoria and Don Alejandro. "What happened?" she asked.

He had no choice but to tell his granddaughter-in-law that her eldest son was missing and that her husband was out looking for him. "I'm sure the muchachos found shelter somewhere," he finished, hoping to reassure the distressed women.

"Why didn't they tell us?" queried Ana Maria a bit hysterically. "Why did they. . ." Whatever she had been about to say was lost as Victoria unsuccessfully tried to stifle a groan..

"Are you all right, Victoria?" inquired the old don.

"Si," she replied, rising to her feet albeit with some effort. "I'll tell Maria to hold Diego's and Felipe's suppers for them until they get back. Father, you need to change out of those wet things and get warm. You don't want to catch another cold, do you?"

"Victoria, are you sure you're. . ."Ana Maria began, her voice full of concern. She knew the other woman well enough to know that when Victoria became bossy, she was covering up how she really felt.

"Por favor," snapped the older woman. "I'm fine. Just worried, that's all." She started walking toward the kitchen, leaving Ana Maria and Don Alejandro looking at each other. The old don shrugged then went to go change his damp clothes, as his daughter-in-law had commanded.

Diego debated for several minutes whether to continue searching or to go home. The rain storm was abating slightly but it was still a pitch black night. The oil for his lantern was almost gone, it certainly would not hold out until dawn.

But, he reasoned, if he went back to the hacienda empty-handed, he would not be able to rest. Then there was the specter of Victoria's fury looming over his head. It was not going to be pleasant explaining his actions to her.

Diego figured he could escape the full brunt of his wife's anger if he brought the boys home safely. But of course, that wasn't only reason why he wanted to find his son and grandson.

Eyeing the lantern oil again, he reckoned he had enough to make it back to the hacienda, if he was where he thought he was. It was so dark he couldn't be entirely sure of his location though. He wondered if Felipe or his father had already found the boys and they were warm and dry and that everyone was now concerned about his whereabouts.

Toronado stumbled a little as they rode up a rocky hill. Diego lifted the dimming light higher so they could see the stones that littered the ground before them. Then he was almost thrown from the saddle as the Andalusian came to an abrupt halt. Peering in the darkness, Diego saw that they were at the edge of a small cliff. He started to lean down to pat the stallion's neck once again when he noticed something flickering down below him. The sound of rushing water told Diego that he was very near the river. What on earth could it be? he thought. He dismounted and crept as close to the edge of the embankment as he dared.

Diego could just make out the outline of a small building. This was de la Vega land and he couldn't remember such a structure in this area before. If he was where he thought he was, of course.

An odd noise made him realize that the wind had died down somewhat. Cold fear gripped his heart as he realized the sounds were coming from the shack.

It sounded like the shrieking of two young boys.

Chapter Text

Diego's mind raced frantically. What was going on in that hovel and how was he going to get down there? It was so dark that he couldn't see how steep the cliff below him was. But he had no idea how far he would have to travel to find a passage to the lower-lying ground the shanty stood upon.

The shrieks erupted again, hastening Diego's decision. He quickly dismounted Toronado, pulled a length of rope from his saddle bag, and then patted the horse on the neck. He didn't waste any time by looking for a tree or stump to tie the rope.

"Toronado, old boy," he said in a voice that was more calm than he felt, "I need you to hold this for me."

The stallion bobbed his head as if he understood. It took longer than he had to spare to tie a loop on one end of the rope with his cold, wet fingers, but he finally did it. He placed the loop in the Andalusian's mouth. The other end of it he flung down the embankment. Giving the rope a test tug, he then began to lower himself down the side of the cliff, holding the fading light of the lantern in his teeth.

Diego was about halfway down the embankment when a flash of lightening caused Toronado to rear, pulling Diego back up the side of the bluff. He removed the lantern from his mouth, leaving only one hand clinging to the rope.

"Whoa, take it easy, old boy," shouted Diego as he tried to calm down the jittery stallion. Toronado jumped again when thunder rumbled across the sky. "Hold the line, boy."

After a minute or so, the Andalusian regained his composure and stood steady. Diego began to once again descend the rope.

Five meters further down the line, he lowered his foot and found nothing but air as the cliff had eroded away in that spot. He nearly lost his grip on the rope and his lantern as well as he gasped. It took several seconds of scrambling, but he finally found a good foothold.

Diego could hear the screams again as he touch the ground at the bottom of the bluff after what seemed like hours but in reality was only about fifteen minutes. He ran swiftly toward the hut. There were no windows or doors on the first two sides of the house he encountered but on the third he saw glowing light emanating from a long rectangle that had to be its entrance.

He burst through the doorway, tearing down the blanket that hung there as he did. Then Diego stopped abruptly. Three faces turned up to look at him. Three smiling faces.

Those happy expressions disappeared promptly however. "Papa!" exclaimed Alfonso. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, hijo, and Diego," his father replied. "You boys were supposed to have been home over three hours ago."

Alfonso and Diego looked at each other with guilty expressions. Three hours! They had not realized they had been gone so long, the time had passed so quickly. The young muchachos knew they were in serious trouble. Probably more than they had ever been in before in their short lives.

Neither noticed the reaction of their friend, Señor Maldonado. The old man visibly paled and was shaking as he got to his feet. "I'm sorry, Señor de la Vega," he began in a wavering voice. "The storm, it was so bad, I thought the boys should stay here until it passed, but then it got so dark..." He trailed off and gulped when he looked up and saw Diego's countenance.

Diego had been taking in the scene before him as the other man was speaking. The boys were seated on either side of their older companion and judging by the crudely made checker set on the table, had been engaged in playing a lively game of it. The cries he heard must have been peals of laughter, distorted by the howling of the wind outside.

The boys ran to him and Diego knelt down on one knee to gather them into his arms. He heaved a big sigh of relief.

They had never been in danger at all. They were safe and sound and had displayed common sense by staying put during the storm instead of trying to make their way back home. Still they had disobeyed him and they would have to be punished. But for now, he was just happy they were alright.

"Alfonso, Diego, time to go home," announced the elder Diego, standing up again. He then eyed the older man as a thought crossed his mind. "How do you know who I am, Señor?" he asked. "Do I know you?"

"No, Señor," replied Maldonado. "I'm just an old peon, why would you know me? . Everyone knows the de la Vegas. They are the wealthiest caballeros around these parts."

Diego detected a note of bitterness in the man's voice and wondered at it. "Well, gracias, Señor, for looking after my son and grandson. I hope they weren't too much trouble."

"Oh, no, no," the old man said with a weak smile. "I enjoy their company. They remind me of my sons when they were the same age."

Diego nodded and began to lead Alfonso and the younger Diego out of the shabby hovel. He threw a glance over his shoulder at Señor Maldonado. Had he encountered the man before somewhere? He seemed vaguely familiar. Diego shrugged. It would come to him sooner or later.

Looking down at the two boys, he sighed. For now, he had other things to worry about that were much more important. He lifted both lads onto Toronado's back and they started their way back to the hacienda.

None of them turned around to see Maldonado standing in the door of his hut, an inscrutable expression on his wizened old face.

It took nearly an hour for the trio to arrive back at the de la Vega hacienda. About halfway there, the lantern had gone out, finally running out of oil. By then, however, it didn't matter anymore as the storm clouds had passed and left behind a sky filled with twinkling stars and a large crescent of the moon.

"Diego!" shouted Victoria as she saw him walking through the front door. "Did you find. . ." She didn't finish her sentence as she could see the two muchachos following behind her husband. She ran despite her large belly to the doorway and hugged both boys tightly.

Ana Maria rushed over and the younger Diego moved over into his mother's arms. "Oh, my baby," she cried as she enveloped him in her own embrace.

Diego looked at his father who was watching with a huge grin on his face. "Where is Felipe?" he asked.

"Oh, he returned about half an hour ago," replied Don Alejandro. "He's changing into dry clothes." He eyed his son's drenched state. "I suggest you do the same."

"Si," Diego agreed. He started to leave as Felipe walked into the room. The relief he saw on his eldest son's face was all the thanks he needed.

"Where did you find them?" queried Felipe. "I never found a trace of them anywhere I searched." He went to go join his wife in embracing their eldest son.

"Down by the river," replied Diego. He turned to his father. "Do we have an old line shack about three miles from here?"

"I don't think so," the old don answered. "Why?"

"That's where I found the boys," declared Diego, "with an old man who is living there."

"An old man?" inquired the elder de la Vega. He rubbed his chin as he mulled over this bit of information. "I wonder. . ."

He was interrupted by Victoria flying into Diego's arms. She wrapped her arms tightly around her husband.

"Gracias, Diego," she murmured before she kissed him. He knew in that moment that all was forgiven.

Diego returned her kiss before putting a little distance between them. "Querida, you're getting all wet," he said teasingly, noting the damp patches on the front of her gown. "I think the boys and I need to change."

"Of course," his wife agreed. "Come along, Alfonso, time to get ready for bed then Maria will bring you and Diego a nice bowl of hot soup."

Alfonso looked up at his mother and saw the traces of worry on her face he had caused. "I'm sorry, Mama," he said contritely. "You, too, Papa. We didn't mean to scare everyone."

"But you did," replied Diego sternly. "Your disobedience could have cost you and Diego your lives, hijo. You were lucky this time." He knelt down to look the young boy in the eye. "You will be punished, Alfonso," he said sternly. He then added in a lighter tone, "But we'll worry about that in the morning."

The youngster smiled, knowing he wasn't going to get disciplined tonight. He skipped ahead of his cousin and Ana Maria who were on their way to the bedroom wing of the hacienda. Victoria trailed slowly behind them. Diego noticed that she paused for a moment about halfway down the corridor.

He went after her. "Victoria," he said in a concerned voice.

"In here, Diego," she called from one of the bedrooms. He came up to the doorway and saw the two women removing the wet garments from the two shivering boys.

"Are you alright?" he asked solicitously.

"I'm fine," she retorted. She grimaced as she slipped Alfonso's nightshirt over his head. "Diego, go get out of those wet clothes. You're going to catch a terrible cold."

"Very well," he said reluctantly. He continued on to the bedroom he and Victoria shared.

Diego hurried stripped off his own soggy clothing. Moments later, dressed in a dry shirt and trousers, he went back to the boys' room. Alfonso and Diego were tucked up in their bed with their mothers still hovering over them.

He had to move aside to let Maria and the young kitchen girl, Paloma, who brought trays bearing steaming bowls of vegetable and chicken soup to pass through the doorway..

"Be careful, it's hot" cautioned Victoria as the boys plunged their spoons eagerly into the bowls.

"Si, Mama," said Alfonso before blowing on the hot soup in his spoon

"You must be starving," Victoria said to Diego. "Maria saved your supper."

"Have you eaten yet?" he asked his wife.

"A little," she answered, averting her eyes. "Go on, you need to eat."

Knowing he would get no peace until he complied, Diego made his way to the dining room where his father and Felipe were already seated at the table, eating their warmed over dinners. He drew up a chair and moments later, Maria set a plate of food in front of him.

Diego began to eat the now limp roast beef and the overcooked green beans. The men ate in silence, not realizing until they were given food just how hungry they had been.

Victoria waddled her way into the sala, followed by Ana Maria, as Diego scraped the last bit of his dinner from his plate. "The boys are asleep," she announced.

"Gracias a Dios," said Don Alejandro. "Those imps had us all worried."

"Si," agreed Diego. "When I was out there, Father, I ran across some quicksand near the river. We'll have to make sure to keep the cattle away from the area.

The elder de la Vega nodded. "Well, I'm off to bed," he announced. "Buenas noches."

The others bid Don Alejandro goodnight as the old don left the room. As Felipe rose from the table, he let out a sneeze.

"Oh, no," said Ana Maria. "You're getting a cold."

"I'll have Maria made up a batch of my special tea," suggested Diego. "I think we could all use a cup of it."

"I'll go ask her," declared Victoria. "There's something else I need to speak to her about anyway."

Diego took a good look at his wife then. She was very pale and the dark circles under her eyes were even more pronounced..

"Querida, are you sure you're alright?" he inquired. He got up from his chair and went over to her side.

"Diego, I'm. . ." She never finished her sentence as she clenched her teeth together and grasped her stomach. Although she didn't cry out, it was obvious that she was in tremendous pain.

Diego scooped Victoria off her feet. He carried her out of the room and into the bedroom they shared. Placing her on the bed, he had to hold her down gently as she tried to sit up.

"Victoria, I want you to tell me what's wrong," demanded Diego tenderly.

"I think the baby's coming," she whispered tearfully.

Chapter Text

"I've been having little pains all afternoon, but I thought it was just from worrying about the boys," Victoria said. She grasped Diego's hand. "It's too soon."

He could only nod. Dios mio, it was too soon.

"What's going on?" queried Ana Maria, taking a couple of steps into the room. "Is it the baby. . .?"

Diego reluctantly relinquished his wife's hand and stood up. "Si," he replied. He walked over to where Ana Maria stood and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Can you keep an eye on her?" he inquired. "I need to go get Doctor Hernandez."

"Diego, no," Victoria said. "You just got back." She broke off as she was wracked with another contraction.

"Querida," he said gently. "We need the doctor."

"I'll go," volunteered Felipe from the doorway. Diego and Ana Maria spun around and started to protest. Felipe shook his head. "Diego, you need to stay here." He disappeared down the hallway before anyone could say anything against his decision.

"I'll go get Maria," suggested Ana Maria. "She can help until the doctor gets here."

Diego nodded before kneeling once more beside the bed. He reached up to stroke Victoria's face. "It's going to be all right," he said as much to convince himself as her.

"I'm sorry, Diego," she murmured. She tensed as another labor pain hit.

Diego looked up at the clock on the bedroom wall. Madre de Dios, it couldn't have been more than two minutes since her last contraction, he surmised. This baby was going to be born soon if this continued.

"What's going on?" queried Don Alejandro who appeared at the door in his nightshirt and robe. "I was just getting into bed when I heard all this commotion." He then glanced at his daughter-in-law lying on the bed. "Is she having the baby?" he asked in a strained voice.

"Si, Father," replied his son. "Felipe has gone to fetch the doctor and Ana Maria is getting Maria." Diego turned as his father made a funny sound. "Father, are you all right?" he inquired, taking in the elder de la Vega's sudden pallor.

"Yes, yes," retorted the old don. "Is there anything I can do?"

"You can keep an eye on the children," said Diego.

Don Alejandro nodded. "I'll pray as well." He exited the room.

Alfonso and the younger Diego had stuck their heads out the door and watched as their abuelo came toward them. "What happened?" asked Alfonso. "Where is everyone going?"

"Don't worry, muchachos," the old don said. "Go back to bed."

"But my mama said my papa was going to get the doctor," said Diego. "We're not sick."

"You are supposed to be sleeping," said their grandfather authoritatively, "not eavesdropping on adult conversations. Back to bed. Now." He pushed them into the bedroom and shut the door.

Reluctantly, the two boys crawled back under the blankets on the bed they were sharing. "I think my mama is sick," whispered Alfonso. "I saw Papa carrying her." He looked over at his cousin. "What if we made her sick?"

"Madre de Dios," said Diego.

The lads stared at each other with guilty eyes.

Half an hour later, Ana Maria came back into Diego and Victoria's bedroom. She motioned to her father-in-law, who was kneeling beside the bed where Victoria was laboring. He got to his feet and walked over.

"I can't find Maria," she revealed quietly. "I've looked all over the house."

Diego didn't know what to make of this information. Usually Maria assisted with all of the births around the hacienda. And right now, her expertise and knowledge were desperately needed. "None of the other servants know where she is?"

Ana Maria shook her head. "Paloma thought someone knocked on the kitchen door but she was putting things away in the pantry so she didn't hear or see anything else."

"Maybe one of the hands was injured during the storm," speculated Diego. "I'll go look for her."

He started to head out the door as Victoria moaned as another contraction came over her. Ana Maria grabbed his arm.

"Diego, don't leave me here alone," she pleaded, her lovely brown eyes filling with tears. "I don't know what to do by myself."

"But you've helped..." he started to say but stopped as she shook her head.

"All I've done is fetch towels and hot water," revealed Ana Maria. "Maria and the doctor did all the actual work."

"I'll get someone else to go look for Maria," he said. He understood his daughter-in-law's panic. He didn't know what to do either. Sure, he had helped with the births of many calves, foals and lambs, that was true. But this was his wife. And she wasn't supposed to be having this baby for another six weeks. The odds that it would survive were slight. And he didn't want to think about how he was going to deal with that possibility. He glanced over at Victoria, who was resting against the pillows on the bed, sweat glistening on her brow and her breathing heavy.

The baby was coming and there wasn't anything anyone could do about it now. Diego gave Ana Maria's hand a squeeze before opening the door and going out to find one of the servants to send out into the rain to find the missing housekeeper.

He was only gone about five minutes before he re-entered the bedroom. Ana Maria was placing towels under Victoria's legs. She looked up at Diego.

"Her water broke," she announced. "I don't it's going to be very long now."

"Diego," whispered Victoria through clenched teeth.

He immediately rushed over to her side. "Si, querida," he said, reaching up to brush her hair from her forehead.

"I want you to promise me something, Diego," she said quietly. She was interrupted by another labor pain. Diego took her hand and let her squeeze his, hoping to take away some of her agony.

Victoria closed her eyes after the contraction had passed. "If the baby is a girl," she began, "I want you to name her Mercedes."

Diego was surprised by her request. The only Mercedes he knew had been his father's old girlfriend, who had died over ten years ago, killed by her estranged husband.

"If that's what you want, of course," he agreed. "What if it's a boy?"

Victoria shook her head. "It's a girl," she stated. She smiled weakly. "Don't ask me how I know," she said. "I just do."

Not about to argue against her intuition, he nodded. But before he could say anything more, Victoria tensed up in pain again.

"Diego," cried Ana Maria. She was peering under the blanket she has placed over Victoria's raised legs. "I think I see a foot. That's not good, is it?"

Diego hurried down to the end of the bed where the other woman stood. He couldn't believe how squeamish he felt as he lifted the blanket that covered his wife's most intimate parts. It wasn't like he had never seen them before now. But again, this was a very different state of affairs.

Tamping down his nausea, Diego took stock of the situation. The baby's foot was indeed visible. He was experienced enough to know that the baby should be turned or it could get stuck in the birth canal and then both mother and child would die. It had happened many times with the animals on the ranch.

"Ana Maria," he said, "we have to turn the baby. We need to get her on her hands and knees."

His daughter-in-law looked at him like he was crazy. And maybe he was. On all fours was the only way he had ever repositioned a calf or foal in the womb. It was the only way he knew how. He murmured a little pray that it would work on a woman as well as a mare.

"Try not to push, querida," he told Victoria as he and Ana Maria helped get her into the desired position.

She could only nod her head faintly. Diego began to manipulate her stomach. Surprising, it didn't feel that much different than that of a cow or mare. Madre de Dios, he thought. He could never voice that sentiment to his wife. She would not appreciate being compared to a farm animal.

It took nearly twenty minutes, but Diego finally managed to get the baby turned so it would come out head first. Both he and Ana Maria were dripping with sweat as they placed the limp Victoria back down onto the bed. Her contractions had intensified while they had worked.

"You need to push now," he said to his exhausted wife. "Push with the next pain, all right?"

"I'm so tired, Diego," she replied weakly. "I don't think I can."

Diego leaned down to kiss her forehead. "Querida, por favor," he pleaded. "You can do this. You have to push."

The words were barely out of his mouth when a contraction hit. "Come on, Victoria," said Ana Maria with feeble enthusiasm. "Push."

Victoria tried to bear down but she grew too weak too soon. Little if any progress was made as just the baby's head was showing. Then she hardly had a moment to rest as another wave of pain washed over her.

"Push," Diego urged again. He glanced over at Ana Maria. "Lift her shoulders." When she looked at him questioningly, he shrugged and said, "Gravity. It might help."

The younger woman did as he instructed. Diego saw immediate results as the head emerge, followed by a shoulder. He also noticed the cord wrapped around the baby's neck. Quickly, he looped it away as the other shoulder came out.

"Get me a cloth or something," he said. Ana Maria grabbed a blanket from an armoire and handed it to Diego. He carefully wiped the baby's face, trying to clear its nose and mouth. He was concerned as the rest of his daughter slid out of her mother. He hadn't heard so much as a whimper from the tiny infant.

"Is she..." Ana Maria started to inquire, but stopped when she saw how blue the baby's skin was.

Diego pressed his ear to the little girl's chest. Slowly he drew away and shook his head. Tears began to stream down Ana Maria's cheeks.

"Diego," said Victoria in a barely audible voice. "Where. . ."

"I'm here, querida," he replied, moving into her line of vision. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Ana Maria was cutting the umbilical cord and wrapping the small baby into a clean blanket.

"The baby," Victoria said. "Can I see her?"

It nearly broke Diego's heart to gaze upon her pale and weary face. Silently Ana Maria placed the tiny bundle into his arms. "Let her see," she whispered. "I know I would want to." She turned away quickly as quiet sobs wracked her body.

Diego looked down at the little face so still yet so beautiful. "Victoria, there's something I need to tell you," he began.

The way Victoria focused onto her husband's face told him she already knew. "Let me hold her," she said with as much determination as she could muster. Diego gently handed her their daughter.

"Oh, she's so lovely," Victoria cooed, stroking a finger down one tiny cheek. "She would have been a real beauty."

"I'm so sorry, querida," murmured Diego. He hung his head. "I did the best I. . ."

"Shh," his wife cut in. "It's not your fault."

Diego shook his head. His common sense told him she was right. But in his heart, he felt like he had failed her. He bent down to kiss her cheek and tasted the salt from her tears.

"We can have more children," said Victoria. She gave him a tired smile. "But not right now. Maybe tomor. . ." Her head suddenly lolled to one side and her hold on the baby loosened.

"Diego," exclaimed Ana Maria frantically. "She's bleeding too much. It shouldn't be this bad."

He glanced over to see the bloody towels the young woman held. "What do we do?" he asked. Suddenly the image of a mare he had over twenty years ago that had hemorrhaged to death popped into his head. The nausea he had fought earlier returned with a vengeance.

"I don't know," cried Ana Maria. "I don't know. We need the doctor." She wiped the tears from her face. "Why hasn't Felipe come back yet?"

Diego glanced up at the clock. Over four hours had passed since he had first carried Victoria into this room. Dios mio, where was Felipe? He must have had trouble finding the doctor.

And where the hell was Maria? It was totally out of her character for her to disappear like this. She should have been here to help. She would have known what to do. Maybe if she had been here, his little girl would have been born alive. Maybe. . .

Diego shook his head. It did no good to place blame on anyone for what happened tonight. It had been God's will, he thought bitterly as he looked upon his unconscious wife.

The pain of losing of their daughter was almost unbearable. And if he lost his Victoria as he had lost his mother. . .

Chapter Text

A touch of a hand on his shoulder roused Diego from his melancholy. Ana Maria was looking at him with a deeply concerned expression. He noticed that she was trembling from either exhaustion or anxiety or perhaps both.

"I'm scared, Diego," she said. "What if she d. . ." She put one hand over her mouth as her other arm clutched her stomach, not able to utter the dreadful word.

Diego reached out and drew her into an embrace. He closed his eyes to block out even thinking of the word. He couldn't lose Victoria. He just couldn't.

There was a quick rap on the bedroom door a second before it was opened. Don Alejandro stared at the sight of his son and his grandson's wife, then his gaze traveled over to his daughter-in-law on the bed. Then shaking his head, he said, "The doctor is here. What. . .?" He didn't need to finish his question as he saw the answer in their faces.

Diego and Ana Maria moved apart as a soaking wet Doctor Hernandez entered the room, followed by an equally damp Felipe. Ana Maria ran to her husband and embraced him tightly.

"Doctor, gracias a Dios," said Diego as he knelt down beside the bed and grasped Victoria's hand. He heaved a sigh of relief as he felt a faint pulse. "She's bleeding. We didn't... we don't know what to do."

The physician removed his coat and opened his black bag. "Let me take a look," he said. He glanced over his shoulder at the two men lingering in the doorway. "A little privacy, por favor."

Felipe released Ana Maria who went over to pick up the tiny blanket wrapped bundle that the unconscious Victoria still held loosely in one arm. He led Don Alejandro from the room.

Doctor Hernandez listened as he examined then tended to Victoria. ". . .and then she passed out," finished Ana Maria. "Is she going to be all right?"

"It's too soon to tell," said the doctor honestly. "She's lost a lot of blood, but there was no internal tearing." He stood up, wiping his hands on a clean towel. He glanced over at Ana Maria then over at Diego.

"You did the best you could," he stated. "The baby just came too early. I doubt I could have done anything different if I had been able to get here sooner. I'm sorry, Don Diego."

"Gracias," Diego managed to choke out. He noticed that Ana Maria was still holding the baby in her arms. "Doctor, the baby. What do we. . ." He was unable to finish his sentence.

"I'll take her with me," suggested Hernandez. "You can make arrangements for burial in a day or two."

Diego couldn't listen to the rest of the doctor's instructions. Burial. The realization hit his stomach like a fist. He had heard the expectation in the physician's voice that it just might be a double funeral. A hand on his shoulder cause him to jump.

"You need to rest, Diego," declared the doctor. "There's nothing more you can do tonight. I'll come back as soon as I can in the morning."

"No," said Diego vehemently. "I'm not leaving until I know she's going to be all right."

"You can't help her by making yourself ill," said Hernandez as he closed his bag.

Ana Maria smiled at the doctor. "It's all right," she said. "We'll get him to rest."

"Bueno," said the physician. He gathered up his coat and left the room.

Ana Maria placed her hand on Diego's back. "He's right," she said, "you need to rest. I can stay while you. . ."

Diego shook his head. "No," he replied. "I'm staying here." He got to his feet and grasped his daughter-in-law's hands. "I want to thank you, Ana Maria, for all your help. I'm glad you were here."

"De nada," she murmured. She glanced over at Victoria. "I only wish. . ."

Diego could only nod. Ana Maria left the room as he returned to Victoria's bedside.

This was his worst nightmare come true. To lose Victoria as he had lost his mother. It had always been there, clawing at his insides, every time that Victoria had announced she was pregnant. He was ashamed to admit he had been more relieved she had survived each birth than he had been proud of the sons she had borne.

What had frightened him even more with this last pregnancy was that Victoria was nearly the same age his mother had been when she had died after giving birth to his sister. That coincidence had weighed heavy on his mind.

Diego closed his eyes as he kissed Victoria's limp hand. This was all his fault, he reasoned. It was he who put off marrying her until Zorro was no longer necessary. All those years when she had been young and healthy, he had wasted them chasing after petty criminals and greedy government officials.

And for what? The momentary thrill it had given him? The glory? He had told himself all those years it was to right the wrongs of injustice and to protect those who could not protect themselves. But how true was that? He would be lying if he said he hadn't enjoyed the notoriety.

Brushing his hand over Victoria's hair, he sigh heavily. If she died, it would be all his fault. And he didn't know how he could live with himself after that.

"Diego?" queried Ana Maria as she opened the bedroom door several hours later. No one had responded to her repeated rapping.

She saw Diego still kneeling beside the bed although he had drifted off to sleep. Victoria, though still unconscious, was moving restlessly under the blankets. Ana Maria went over and place her wrist on Victoria's forehead.

"Diego, Diego, wake up," she urged as she shook his shoulder. Ana Maria hated to disturb his rest but...

"Wha. . .What?" said a disoriented Diego as he threw off the vestiges of sleep. His whole body yelled in protest as he went to stand up.

"She's burning up," stated Ana Maria. "I'll go get some cold cloths." She paused by the door on her way out of the room. "Diego, you need to eat something. The boys are having their breakfast now. You should go join them."

She then left the room without waiting for a reply. Diego shook his head as nausea churned in his stomach. The boys. How could he ever face his sons again? He was responsible for killing their mother.
Diego sat down on the end of the bed and hung his head in his hands. From what little his father had told him concerning the circumstances of his mother's death, this was the next step. Felicidad de la Vega had only lingered on for two days after her infant daughter had died only moments after birth. It was only a matter of time now, Diego thought, until Victoria followed in her footsteps.

Looking over at Victoria, Diego remember another time when his beloved had been at death's door. And he had been the one to blame for that incident as well. He recalled it as if it had just been the day before; that gambler Bishop, shooting at Zorro but Victoria stepping in the way and taking the bullet instead.

He had almost given up Zorro then, going so far as to throwing his mask in the fire. Diego reached out to take Victoria's hand. He should have done it. He should have quit the very moment she had been shot.

But no, instead he continued to play the masked hero for five more years. Five years that they could have spent together as husband and wife. Instead those years had been wasted.

Diego slid off the bed and knelt back down beside it. He kissed Victoria's hand and used his free hand to push her hair off her forehead. She was burning with fever.

Ana Maria re-entered the room then, carrying a tray containing a pitcher, a bowl, and a pile of cloths. She was followed by Doctor Hernandez. Diego got to his feet.

"I told him about the fever," said Ana Maria as she dipped one of the cloths into the bowl of water. After she had wrung it out, she placed it on Victoria's brow.

The doctor shook his head. "I was afraid of this," he said. He patted Diego on the shoulder. "There's nothing we can do but let nature run its course."

"What does that mean?" questioned Diego angrily. "You mean we just let her die?"

"No," replied the physician. "Try to make her as comfortable as possible and make sure she gets plenty of liquids." He looked Diego in the eye. "I wish I had a magic potion that could restore her to perfect health, Don Diego. But I don't. Not every woman dies from childbirth fever, you know," he added in a reassuring tone.

Diego turned away in disgust. "Thank you, Doctor," he ground out. He knelt back down beside the bed.

Ana Maria walked with the physician to the door. She shot a quick glance at Diego. "Is there really nothing we can do?" she inquired.

Hernandez patted her hand. "I'm sorry, my dear," he said. "I've seen this more times than I can count. Whether or not the mother makes it or not depends on her health and her age." He paused to look over at Victoria. "I'm afraid it is in God's hands now."

He left the room then. Ana Maria turned around and saw Diego's face which told her he had overheard her conversation with the doctor. She never knew anyone could look so devastated.

The burial of Mercedes Maria de la Vega was not attended by either of her parents. Her mother was still at death's door, burning with fever. Her father refused to leave her mother's bedside.

Don Alejandro de la Vega was there. He could not look at the tiny casket however. His eyes were lifted skyward as Padre Benitez sprinkled his granddaughter's coffin with holy water and murmured the appropriate prayers.

That his son was having to endure the same pain he had had to endure was eating him up inside. First the loss of a precious child. Then the love of your life dying. Don Alejandro sent up a silent prayer that Victoria would pull through this ordeal. He couldn't bear to think what it would do to Diego if she didn't.

Felipe and Ana Maria held each other's hand tightly. Each knew what the other was thinking. They too were concerned about Diego and his state of mind. They remembered the pain and anguish they had gone through when Ana Maria had miscarried six years earlier. It had nearly tore their marriage apart. They didn't know what this would do to Diego and Victoria's marriage if she survived.

"I want to express my deepest sorrows," said the priest, coming over to Don Alejandro after the rites were completed. "Let there be some comfort that she is up in Heaven now, in the loving bosom of God."

"Gracias, Padre," the old don replied with more graciousness than he felt.

"And how is Doña Victoria doing?" asked Benitez. "I am thinking about coming out to the hacienda again this afternoon."

"She's the same," answered Ana Maria, stepping in so the elder de la Vega wouldn't have to respond. She wasn't sure he could. "Come for lunch, Padre, por favor," she invited.

"Si, gracias," the priest said. He touched his hand to Don Alejandro's shoulder before turning to leave the cemetery, followed by two altar boys. Felipe and Ana Maria went over to speak with her mother, Leonora, and Mendoza who had also attended the funeral.

The elder de la Vega swallowed hard. It had to be some kind of curse, he thought as he walked a little while later with Felipe and Ana Maria to their carriage. A curse put on the de la Vega women, causing them and their daughters to die young.

He thought of his own mother then. She too had passed on at a early age. He had been twenty years old at the time, off fighting in some foreign land with his brother Alfonso. There had been no way to get word to them, so they didn't learn of her passing until nearly two years later when they had come home on leave.

It had to be a curse. Don Alejandro shook his head. It was stupid to believe in such things but what else could it be? He just couldn't accept that God could be so cruel.

He sat silently, brooding all the way back to the hacienda.

"No! You are not giving her last rites!" Diego shouted at Padre Benitez. The priest had arrived a little before lunchtime to visit the sickroom.

"Don Diego, you cannot deny her the sacrament," countered the padre. "If she dies, the fate of her immortal soul could be jeopardized. You would not want that on your conscience, my son."

Diego looked irritably at Benitez. What was coming out of the other man's mouth all sounded like superstitious nonsense to him. Victoria was a good woman, why would she be condemned to hell because a priest didn't sprinkle her with holy water and say a few words over her. He wasn't even sure there was a place called hell anymore. He had seen too much of it right here on earth.

The padre could sense the struggle inside of the man in front of him. "You can't lose faith, Diego," he said benevolently.

Diego leaned his forehead against the cool wood of the armoire. It was too late, he wanted to tell the kindly priest. He had begun to lose his faith when he was twelve and his mother had died. Over the years it had been chipped away by all the inhumanity and cruelty he had witnessed, especially those acts that had been done in the name of the Church.

This was just the final straw, thought Diego. He lifted his head and saw that Benitez had moved closer to Victoria. The priest made a sign of the cross over the rosary he held in his hand, kissed the crucifix that hung from its end, then placed it into one of Victoria's hands.

Then the padre turned to look at him. Diego knew what the other man must be thinking. He hadn't changed his clothes since that night. He hadn't shaved or combed his hair in those days either. If he slept, it was only for a few hours at a time and he knew his eyes were bloodshot from the lack of rest. He must look like a madman.

"I know you won't allow me to do this because if I do, you think she will die," said Benitez. "She's a strong woman, Don Diego. But she still needs our prayers."

"Fine, do it." Diego knew the padre would give him no peace until he relented. He flung himself down in a chair beside the bed and closed his eyes. He tried to shut his ears as well as he could hear the priest setting out the items he needed to perform his ritual.

Chapter Text

There was a quiet rap on the door, then it opened to reveal Ana Maria on the other side. "Lunch is. . ." she began to say, but paused when she saw what Padre Benitez was doing. She shot an anxious look over at Diego, who had reopened his eyes. He shook his head which caused Ana to relax.

The padre turned to look at the young woman. "I'll be right there," he advised before returning to his prayers and holy water.

Ana Maria glanced over at Diego. She knew she would be wasting her breath to ask him to join them for their midday meal. She stepped back and closed the door.

Later that afternoon, after Padre Benitez had departed the hacienda, another tap sounded on the bedroom door. It too was opened before Diego had a chance to respond. He leaned back in the chair he was still sitting in and groaned when he saw that it was Felipe.

Felipe stood at the foot of bed. "Diego," he said, "everyone is worried about you. You need to take care of your. . ."

Diego dismissed him with the wave of his hand. "Spare me the lectures, hijo," he replied wearily.

"I know what you're going through," stated Felipe.

"You have no idea," said Diego coldly.

"Ana and I lost a child."

Damn, thought Diego as he closed his eyes. He had forgotten about when Ana Maria had miscarried their first child. He opened his eyes and look at his son in a different light. But still. . .

"You didn't lose your wife," retorted Diego.

"You haven't either," Felipe responded. "And I did lose Ana for nearly three months. I felt as though my world had come to an end then. But it can't, Diego. You have to go on." He paused, drawing in a deep breath before adding, "You have three sons out there who need you, Diego. They are scared both their mother and father have disappeared and no one is telling them what is going on. You're going to lose them as well if you keep isolating yourself from everyone."

Diego hung down his head. Felipe was right. It had felt as though his world had come crashing down around his head. But he didn't know how he could go on without Victoria. He didn't know how he could face his young sons or what he could possibly say to them that would allay their fears. Shaking his head, he covered his face with his hands.

He looked up when he felt Felipe's hand on his shoulder. "Diego, I'm worried not only about you, but about Ana as well. She's wearing herself out trying to take care of everything both here and at home. It doesn't help that Maria has a broken ankle."

The mystery of the de la Vega's housekeeper's disappearance had been solved the morning after the storm. She had gone out to one of the workers' cottages to see to a sick child. On the way back to the main house, she had slipped in the mud, breaking her ankle. She had lain out in the rain for several hours before anyone heard her cries for help and had caught a bad cold as well.

"She doesn't have to," stated Diego. "I've told her she should go home and rest but she won't listen."

A small smile crept onto Felipe's handsome face. "Sounds like someone else I know," he said. He looked over at the unconscious Victoria and his expression sobered. "She's a fighter, Diego. Just remember that." Felipe patted his father's shoulder reassuringly before leaving the room.

Diego returned his head to his hands. Guilt washed over him. He had been wallowing in his misery for so long, he had become totally unaware of his family. He had noticed how tired Ana Maria had been looking lately, it just hadn't mattered to him. Alfonso and the twins must be frightened out of their wits and all he had been concerned about how he was going to face them again.

The image of a bewildered young boy entered his mind then, a boy who hadn't known what had happened to his mother. A boy who had been pushed aside as the adults had bustled about and told him to stop asking so many questions. A boy who saw his father so stricken with grief that he still dreamed about it at night. A boy who had not been allowed to attend his mother's funeral, who had never seen her gravesite until he was sixteen and had snuck out to visit it one night. A boy who hadn't even found out he had had a little sister until that visit.

His mother's death had affected him deeply. But the way he had been treated at the time also remained burned into his memory.

And now he was behaving the same way. Cutting himself off from the people he loved, just as his father had done. Ignoring his sons, just as his father had done. Being irrational and shouting at people who were trying to help, just as his father had done.

Diego got to his feet. No, he vowed, he was not going to do to his sons what had been done to him. He went over to the bed and picked up Victoria's flaccid hand. Bringing it to his lips, he reached out with his other hand and stroked her forehead.

"I love you, Victoria," he said. Diego released her hand and stood up. He hesitated for a moment before heading for the bedroom door.

Ana Maria, Don Alejandro, and the children were in the library. The younger boys were playing with a pile of wooden blocks, building teetering towers before gleefully knocking them over. Alfonso and Digo sat on the settee, looking at a book of illustrations and hesitantly sounding out words. Their abuelo was reading as well, although it seemed he had to reread the same page over several times before turning to the next one.

Concentrating on her needlework, Ana Maria stabbed herself in the finger when one of the twins shrieked, "Papa!" Glancing up, she saw Diego standing there with a determined expression on his unshaven face.

"Diego?" His father stood up, letting his book fall to the floor. "What happened? Is Victoria. . ."

Diego held out his hand. "She's the same," he said. Bending down, he picked up one twin and then the other. "Alfonso, come on."

The lad hopped off the settee and followed his papa down the hallway. Don Alejandro also walked behind them.

"Son, what are you doing?" he inquired. "You can't let them see. . ."

"I can't let them see what, Father?" Diego interrupted, spinning around. "Their mother? Why not?"

The elder de la Vega was taken aback by the bitterness in his son's voice. "Diego, it will only upset them," he declared sagely.

"Any more than they are already?" countered Diego. "Father, I need to do this. Don't try to stop me."

He turned around and continued on his way. The old don shrugged his shoulders. Ana Maria had come up behind him, a questioning look on her face. Don Alejandro just shook his head.

"I don't know," he said before going back to the library. Ana Maria stared at his retreating back, then turned and made her way to the sickroom.

Diego walked into the room and set the twins down onto the floor. All three boys gazed at their mother, lying still on the bed. Diego knelt down before them.

"Muchachos," he began, "your mama is very sick. She had the baby. Remember what we told you about having a baby brother or sister and it was growing in her tummy?" He addressed the last comment to the three-year old twins, Alejandro and Francisco, who both nodded.

"Well, the baby came too early," he explained, "and she wasn't alive when she was born." He swallowed hard. It was still difficult to think of his daughter as dead.

"She?" echoed Alfonso. "We have a baby sister?"

"No," replied Diego. "She was born dead."

"Oh," Alfonso said, thinking it would have been nice to have a little sister. He looked up at his father as another thought crossed his mind, one that had been nagging his conscience since the night of the storm. "Papa, did I make Mama sick and the baby dead?"

Diego could only stare at his son in shock for several minutes. Then he began shaking his head. "No, hijo, no," he finally said, grasping the boy's shoulders. "Why would you even think such a thing?"

Alfonso hung his head. "Because I disobeyed you and went to visit Señor Maldonado," he said. "I made Mama worry too much. It's my fault, isn't it?"

Diego pulled his son to his chest. "No, Alfonso," he said, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak. "No, hijo, you mustn't think that way. It was not your fault. Babies come too early sometimes." He pushed his son an arm's length away and made the boy meet his eyes.

"Alfonso, it was not your fault," he reiterated. "This things happen sometimes and there's just no reason for them. It's not anyone's fault. Do you understand?"

"Si, Papa," Alfonso replied. He felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off his chest. "Can we kiss Mama?" he asked.

"Yes."

All three boys crept cautiously toward the bed. Before Diego could stop him, Alejandro had climbed up on the mattress and leaning over, kissed his mother on the cheek. Francisco was not far behind. The twins snuggled up on either side of her as Alfonso got on the bed as well so he could kiss her too.

"I love you, Mama," the youngster said. "I hope you get better soon."

At first, the movement was so infinitesimal that Diego thought he had only imagined it. But then Victoria's eyelashes fluttered even more noticeably. Sitting down on the bed, Diego took one of his wife's hands.

Her head rolled to one side and then the other as her eyes slowly opened. Diego couldn't tell if she was cognizant or not. Then her eyelids drooped shut again, but he could swear he saw a small smile appear on Victoria' face.

Diego got to his feet again. "Come on, muchachos," he announced. "You can visit again tomorrow."

The boys slid off the bed and the twins raced out the door. Alfonso lingered for a moment, kissed his mother on the cheek again, and then exited the room.

Diego leaned over and touched his lips to his wife's. "Victoria, can you hear me?" he queried softly. "Victoria?" But there was no reaction.

It had to mean something, he thought. She had opened her eyes, if only for a second. Had she responded to her sons' visit? Or was it merely a coincidence?

Diego sat back down in the chair by the bed. He had no idea Alfonso had been feeling so guilty about Victoria's illness. That the boy had been blaming himself because of his disobedience. He smiled wryly as he remembered that Alfonso's promised punishment for his misdeed had never materialized. Diego shook his head. He just didn't have the heart to punish the boy now.

"Diego?" He looked up to see Ana Maria standing in the doorway. "Supper is almost ready. Did you want to. . ." She was afraid to finish her question.

"I'll go," he replied. He looked down at his rumpled clothing and stroked his whiskered chin. "Just let me clean up a little first."

"Si, I'll come stay while you eat," said Ana Maria before turning to leave. She paused, however, and added, "I'm glad you let the boys see Victoria. I think it helped." She then continued on her way.

Diego started to unbutton his shirt. Did he do the right thing? he wondered as he gathered up his shaving things. Only time would tell.

Diego was startled from his sleep by a shout from Victoria. He leapt from the chair and knelt by her bedside. She was thrashing and moaning wildly. Tentatively he placed his hand on her forehead.

Dios mio, she was burning up. Diego immediately soaked a cloth in the bowl of cool water that sat on the table by the bed and put it on her forehead.

"Victoria, querida," he said in a soothing tone. "Shh, it's all right." He tried to grab her hands but she was waving them so much he was afraid of hurting her.

"No, Mama, no." Diego could barely make out the words she was saying as she rolled her head from side to side. He tried to lift her head so he could get her to sip from a glass of water, but she was thrashing around so much, she knocked the glass from his hand, spilling it on the front of her nightgown.

The cold douse of water calmed Victoria down almost immediately. "Mama, Mama," she murmured quietly. "No, no." Diego stroked her cheek as she continued to keen for her mother.

She must be reliving the day her mother had been shot. He could think of no other time she would have been so anxious about her mother. He had not witnessed the execution of Señora Escalante but from the accounts he had heard later, it had been horrific.

His poor querida, the fever must be triggering the terrible memories. But why had it suddenly risen once again? She had been almost fever free earlier this evening, Diego recalled

He didn't have long to dwell on it as Ana Maria rushed into the room, with little Jaime on her hip. "He's cutting a tooth," she explained. "I was up with him when I thought I heard Victoria's voice. Is she awake?"

"No," replied Diego. "But she's burning up again and she's delirious."

"Should we get the doctor?" asked Ana Maria worriedly. Jaime began to fuss and she laid a hand on his brown curly hair to soothe him.

Diego shook his head. "No," he said. "I don't what he can do. Not that he's done much in the first place, " he added the last sentence bitterly under his breath He got to his feet and also placed a gentle hand on his grandson's hair. "I think I have something that can help both Victoria and little Jaime here."

Without another word, he ran out of the bedroom, leaving a bewildered Ana Maria staring after him.

Chapter Text

A few minutes after Diego's abrupt departure, Felipe appeared in the bedroom doorway.

"What's going on?" he inquired before yawning. He looked around the room in confusion. "Where's Diego?"

"He went to get something," replied his wife. She handed him their son before going over to the bed.

"What?" asked Felipe as he tried his hand at soothing his fussy son.

"I don't know," Ana Maria replied. "He just said he had something that could help and ran out the door. He didn't say what it was."

She removed the now dried cloth from Victoria's face and dipped it again in the bowl of water. Placing it back on the feverous woman's forehead, she then sat down on the bed.

It was several minutes later when Diego returned carrying a tray that held two steaming mugs. He picked one up and handed it to Ana Maria. "Let it cool a bit," he instructed, "then try to get her to drink all of it."

Ana Maria blew on it several times. "What is it?" she queried.

"Willow bark tea," Diego stated. He poured a little water from the pitcher that was on the bedside table into the second mug before handing it to Felipe. "I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner. It will help with Victoria's fever and with Jaime's tooth pain."

"Gracias," said Felipe. He put the cup up to his son's lips. "Just a couple of sips," he said coaxingly.

Ana Maria was more successful in getting Victoria to drink the tea. Its affect on her was almost immediate. She had calmed down and was now resting peacefully.

"I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner," Diego reiterated. "The Indians use willow bark for fever and pain. I should have thought of it sooner."

"Well, you thought of it now," said Ana Maria, placing the now empty mug on the tray. "Diego," she began, "you really should get some sleep. I can stay. . ."

"No," Diego replied, shaking his head. "Your family needs you." He glanced up at Felipe who was holding the now sleeping Jaime and wearing a thankful grin.

"If you're sure," Ana Maria said hesitantly.

"Si," responded Diego. "I'll be fine."

Diego waited until Felipe and Ana Maria had left the room, quietly closing the door behind them before kneeling down beside the bed.

"I'm so sorry, Victoria," he said, lifting her hand to his lips. "I wish I had thought of the tea sooner. I love you, querida." He kissed her hand again.

If she got better. . . no, when she got better, he thought fiercely, there could be no more children. He couldn't risk losing her like this again. This pregnancy had taken its toll on her, although she would never admit it. Victoria had just laughed off his concerns, saying that the baby was probably a girl, which everyone knew rob the mother of her looks.

No, no more children. Diego gazed down upon his sleeping wife. He leaned over and kissed her lips gently. They had their sons and with them they were going to have to be content.

Victoria's fever lasted through the rest of the night and into the next morning. Either Diego or Ana Maria made her drink a cup of the willow bark tea every four hours yet the fever remained. She was resting quietly however, and for that, Diego was grateful.

He allowed Ana Maria to sit with Victoria while he went to go eat lunch with his father and the boys. Felipe wasn't there, he spent most days either engaged in his law practice or caring for his horses. He only came back to the hacienda in the evenings. In some ways, life was still going on as normal.

At the table, Alfonso looked up from his plate of enchiladas. "Papa, are you going to let us visit Mama again?" he asked hopefully.

"How about this afternoon?" suggested Diego with a smile. "After you finish your chores."

Predictably Alfonso groaned. Diego has to suppress a small chuckle.

"I still think it's a bad idea," declared Don Alejandro, as he set down his fork.

"Why?" queried Diego, his mood swiftly changing to anger. "Why is it such a bad idea?"

The old don glanced around at his grandchildren who were all looking wide-eyed at the adults' conversation. "Not now, Diego," he replied, indicating the boys.

"Fine," said Diego in a huff. He threw down his napkin. "If you will excuse me." Not waiting for a response, he got up and left the table.

"Why is Papa mad?" Alfonso asked his abuelo. "Did I do something bad?"

"No, hijo," said Don Alejandro. "It is nothing you did." He tried to smile reassuredly at the youngster but failed miserably.

They ate the rest of their lunch in silence. After they had been excused, Alfonso and Digo hurried to finish the older boy's daily chores.

It was mid-afternoon before a timid knock sounded on the bedroom door where Diego sat brooding in the chair beside his wife's bed.

"Papa?"

Diego immediately popped out of the chair and went to open the door. "Alfonso," he said as the boy was revealed. "Are your chores completed?"

The muchacho nodded his head vigorously. "Si, Papa," he said. Then Alfonso looked up worriedly at his father. "Alejandro and Francisco are still taking their nap. Do I have to wait until they wake up?"

"No," Diego replied. He opened the door wider. "Come in."

The lad skipped happily into the room and stopped at his mother's bedside. "Is she really going to get better?" he asked.

"We have to believe it, Alfonso," said his father. "You've been saying your prayers?"

Nodding solemnly, Alfonso reached out and touched Victoria's hand. "Hola, Mama," he said cheerfully. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "I've been a good boy, Mama. Cousin Diego has been staying with me in my room. And Jaime too. But he's staying with. . ."

Diego smiled as he listened with half an ear to the rest of the news Alfonso was telling Victoria. He was keeping a closer watch on his wife's face, to see if she would respond again as she had done the day before when the boys had visited.

"Diego," said his father quietly from the doorway. Diego could see the elder de la Vega was ready to continue their earlier conversation.

He slipped out of the room as Alfonso chatted non-stop at Victoria. "Father, I. . ." he began.

"Diego, you have no idea what you are doing to those boys," interrupted Don Alejandro. "If she dies. . ."

It was Diego's turn to cut in. "She's not going to die," he said angrily through gritted teeth.

The old don sighed. "Of course, we all are praying for her to pull through," he stated. "But, son, you need to be practical. Those muchachos could be scarred for life if they see their mother die."

"Like I wasn't?" snapped Diego. "I was haunted for years by Mother's death. Did you know that? I imagined all sorts of horrible things had happened to her. A twelve year old can have a very vivid imagination, you know."

"Son, I was trying to protect you," said Don Alejandro. "I wanted to shield you from the grief. . ."

"Do you know that your grief frightened me so much I still dream of that time?" Diego asked rhetorically. "I had never seen you so. . .so devastated. You were my father. I looked to you for guidance and you just pushed me aside."

The elder de la Vega shook his head wearily. "It's true, Diego. I was devastated by your mother's death. I wasn't thinking rationally at the time, I have to admit. But I did what I thought was best for you at the time."

"I know you did, Father," acquiesced Diego. "But it was wrong."

"And you think your way is better?" his father inquired argumentatively. "So be it," he added, shaking his head once more. "I just hope your sons don't hate you for it." He turned to leave.

Diego reached out to stop him by placing a hand on Don Alejandro's shoulder. "Father, I don't hate you," he said contritely. "I never hated you. This situation, it's bringing out so many bad memories for all of us." Diego glanced back toward the bedroom door. "I think that Victoria in her delirium is reliving her mother's execution."

He was unprepared for his father's reaction. "Madre de Dios," muttered the old don. Diego thought the older man had aged ten years right before his eyes.

"Father?" queried Diego, his voice full of concern. "What's wrong?"

"Señora Escalante," Don Alejandro said in a strangled voice. "I did something to her I'm not proud of, Diego. Something horrible."

Once again, Diego was shocked. "Father, what could you have possibly done to Victoria's mother?" he asked, full of morbid curiosity. "You didn't. . . You're not the one who turned her in to the authorities. . .?"

"No, Dios, no," replied the elder de la Vega. He closed his eyes. "No, after your mother died, after the doctor had left, she, Elena, Victoria's mother, was crying. She had been there throughout the whole ordeal, helping the doctor. We reached out to each other for comfort." He shook his head. "I kissed her, Diego. I kissed her with your mother still lying there on the bed."

Diego just stared at his father for several awkward moments. "That's all you did?" he asked tentatively, not sure if he wanted to know anymore details, especially if. . .

"That's all?" echoed Don Alejandro. "That was enough. When I realized what was happening, I pushed her away and was sick." He opened his eyes to stare at his son. "I've seen you and Ana Maria together, Diego. You need to be careful. She's your son's wife."

"Father, I would never. . .ever. . . I know who she is," Diego sputtered with indignation. "Just because. . ."

"I never would have dreamed I would have did what I did either," replied his father. "I loved your mother. I hadn't looked at another woman since the moment I met her. I was so distraught it clouded that fact and also the fact that Elena Escalante was the wife of one of my oldest friends. But I kissed her anyway."

Diego digested this information with a heavy heart. His father was right. If Victoria did. . . die (he still had a hard time even thinking about it), he would have to be careful. Ana Maria was Felipe's wife. If anything improper happened because he was out of his head with grief. . . Well, he didn't know if he could live with himself or face his eldest son again. He struggled to pay attention as his father started speaking again.

"It's why I made sure I kept an eye on Victoria after her mother was executed and her father went to go join the rebels," he said. "It was the least I could do, after what I had done to her mother."

"Father, you did nothing wrong," Diego commented. "You weren't in your right mind. I'm sure Señora Escalante knew that and that she forgave you. She was a kind-hearted woman."

"Si," the old don agreed with a lump in his throat. Then he smiled faintly. "A trait she passed on to her daughter."

Diego smiled as well, thinking of all the good and generous deeds his Victoria had done. She didn't deserve this, he thought crossly. She was a good woman, a good wife, and a good mother.

Don Alejandro's hand on his shoulder aroused him from his reverie. "Son, I had no idea that you were so affected by what I did when your mother died. Maybe you are right. Maybe it is a good thing that the boys see Victoria and that they know what is happening." He paused and they could both hear Alfonso still talking to his mother. "Although they are so young, they might not understand what is going on anyway."

"Alfonso knows," stated Diego. "He's been blaming himself for this. He thinks that he and Diego caused Victoria to go into labor and his sister's. . . death." Another concept he was still having trouble dealing with, if his hesitance to even mention it was anything to go by.

"He's a smart lad," said the elder de la Vega with pride. "You're right, he'll remember this when he's older."

"Papa! Papa!" called the boy in question from the bedroom. "Come here!"

Diego and Don Alejandro gave each other panic stricken glances before dashing into the room. Alfonso was sitting on the mattress, holding his mother's hand. He was bouncing up and down excitedly.

"I think she's waking up," he declared. "Look."

The youngster was correct. Victoria's eyes were fluttering open, just as they had done the day before. Then they opened completely. Diego could tell she was not completely focusing on her surroundings, however.

"Mama, Mama, it's me, Alfonso," said the boy enthusiastically, gently shaking her arm. "Mama."

Victoria brought her free hand up to touch her forehead. "‘Fonso?" she whispered. "Wha. . ." She closed her eyes again for a second, then reopened them, this time obviously taking in where she was.

Diego knelt down on the other side of bed. "Victoria," he said earnestly. "You've been in bed with a fever for nearly a week. Ever since. . . ever since. . ." He couldn't finish his explanation when he saw the heartbroken look in his wife's eyes.

"Diego," she murmured tiredly. "I'm. . . I'm so. . ."

"Shh, querida, it's all right," he said reassuringly. He placed his hand on her forehead. It was cool to his touch. The fever had finally broken. She was going to be all right.

Chapter Text

It took several weeks before Victoria was back on her feet again, but once her fever had broken, her health had improved rapidly. Doctor Hernandez had stopped by every few days to check on her.

After his last visit, the doctor had taken Diego aside when he finished examining Victoria. "I'm amazed," he said. "I thought she wasn't going to pull through." He patted Diego on the back. "I've seen women die who weren't as sick as Doña Victoria was. She's a strong woman, Don Diego."

"I know," Diego replied.

"You also know there can be no more children," stated the doctor.

Diego nodded. "Si, I know."

"There's no physical reason really," said Hernandez. "But she probably wouldn't survive having another baby. Her age is against her, for one thing. The older the mother, the harder it is for them to recover."

The physician wasn't telling Diego anything he didn't already know. He thanked the doctor and sent him on his way

It was three days later when Victoria appeared in the library dressed in her nightgown and robe. The rest of the family had gathered there and all stopped what they had been doing when she stepped unsteadily into the room.

"Victoria, what are you doing out of bed?" exclaimed Diego, rushing over to her side. "You aren't supposed to up and about yet."

"I couldn't stand being in that room another minute," she explained. "I just had to get out."

She allowed Diego to help her to the chair he had just vacated. Alfonso and the twins came over to stand near her. Don Alejandro beamed at her from across the room. Ana Maria had set aside her needlework and stood up.

"Do you need anything?" asked Ana Maria. "Something to drink or. . ."

"No," Victoria answered, shaking her head. She looked over at Diego. "Why don't you give the boys a fencing lesson?"

"Are you sure?" asked Diego. He hadn't given Alfonso and Diego a lesson since. . . Since that day their world had been turned upside down.

"Oh, Papa, can we?" Alfonso pleaded.

"It's ‘may we,'" corrected Victoria. "It's up to you, Diego. But I would hate to see their new skills get rusty just because of me." She smiled at him then and he knew he couldn't refuse her request.

"Very well," he acquiesced. "Father, could you help me?"

"I'd love to," said Don Alejandro, setting aside his book and getting to his feet.

In less than fifteen minutes, the foyer had been cleared of its rugs and any breakable objects. Diego had brought out the boys's épées and soon the muchachos were reviewing their lessons in footwork and parrying positions.

After the lesson was over, Diego escorted Victoria back to the bedroom. She went without an argument, which told Diego she was more worn out from her little adventure than she would admit.

Once he had help her back into bed, she put her hand on his arm as he was pulling away after kissing her cheek. He looked down at her curiously.

"I want things to get back to normal as soon as possible," she stated. Victoria gazed up at him and Diego could see the tears forming in her lovely brown eyes. "I want to go the cemetery," she said .

She placed a finger on his lips as he started to protest. "Not today, Diego," she said. "But soon."

"Victoria, I. . . Are you sure?" queried Diego. He had not been to the cemetery yet either. He knew he would not be able to avoid it forever, but he had hoped to put if off for as long as he could.

"Si, Diego," she replied. She touched her hand to his cheek. "I'm not made of glass. I'm not going to break."

"Who said you were?" he asked, taken aback at the anger he heard in her voice.

"No one's had to say it," stated Victoria bitterly. "It's the way you're treating me." She moved her hand to his mouth as he started to speak.

"It's not just you," she said. "Though you're the worst one of all."

"Victoria, you almost died," declared Diego baldly. "What am I supposed to do? Let you go out and join the ranch hands?"

"No, of course not," she replied. "Now you're just being stupid." She shook her head. "I just want to get my strength back and have things get back to normal. That's all."

Diego didn't appreciate being called stupid, but dammit, she had almost died. He felt it was his responsibility to make sure she recovered fully and didn't hurt herself in the process. Her stubborn nature would have her trying to do too much before her body was ready for it. It fell on his shoulders to make sure she didn't.

"This wasn't your fault, Diego," Victoria said, breaking into his thoughts. "I know you're blaming yourself. But how were you supposed to know what was going to happen? I can't foresee the future and neither can you." She closed her eyes before continuing. " I wanted this baby as much as you did."

Diego couldn't respond. How could he tell his wife she was the one who had wanted another child much more than he did? He couldn't tell her that fact, now or ever.

"I'll try to be more lenient," he finally said. "But you have to let us know when you've had enough and promise not to overdo it."

"I promise," agreed Victoria with a smile. She used her hand to pull his face down to hers and kissed him.

A jolt of desire ran the length of Diego's body. Dios, he thought. No more children meant no more lovemaking. How was he going to tell Victoria that part of their life was over? Granted, it would be another month or so before she was recovered enough from giving birth to even consider it. But what was he going to do then?

Diego sighed as their mouths came apart. Victoria was smiling contentedly as she laid back upon her pillows and shut her eyes.

"Rest now, querida," he said before placing his lips on her forehead. He paused at the bedroom door and gazed upon his now sleeping wife. Thinking about all the things he couldn't tell her, he shook his head. He had almost lost her forever. These soul-crushing secrets he had to bear were a small price to pay in exchange for her life.

Diego threw himself back into his vineyards more and more as Victoria's health improved. He was beginning to spend most of his time there as he had done when Victoria had been pregnant. It was months yet until the harvest, but still he found things to do to keep himself occupied. Trifling things that kept him away from the forbidden temptation that his wife was becoming more and more each day.

One day in late May, he was inside the now completed building that would house the winery when he heard a conveyance pulled up outside. Diego was shocked to see Victoria and his father sitting in the de la Vega carriage.

"We're on our way to the cemetery," declared Victoria. "Do you want to come with us?"

Even though it had been three months since their daughter's death, Diego still had not visited her grave. Victoria had mentioned going again several times, but each time he had put her off with one excuse or another. Now, it seemed, she had taken matters into her own hands.

"I'm sorry, querida," Diego replied as he stepped up next to the carriage. "I'm right in the middle of. . ."

"Fine," said Victoria before he could finish his explanation. "Well, I'm going anyway." She looked at him as if she expected him to challenge her.

"Very well," said Diego, not rising to the bait. "I'll see you later at supper."

"Oh, you're coming home for supper?" asked his wife with a touch of sarcasm in her voice. She glanced over at Don Alejandro who sat stonily next to her. "It must be a special occasion."

"Victoria," Diego said warningly. He had noticed lately that she was even more short-tempered than usual. Minor annoyances that before she would have ignored seemed to bother her greatly. Diego wondered if, although Victoria had healed physically, that her emotional scars were still festering. As were his, he acknowledged.

"Adios," she said, tossing her head as she signaled the driver. Old Miguel, one of the ranch hands, flicked the reins and the carriage began to move away.

"Wait," Diego called out. He ran to catch up. "I'll go," he said, slightly out of breath much to his chagrin. When had he gotten so out of shape?

"Bueno," said Don Alejandro with a smile. He got up and took the seat opposite Victoria so Diego could sit next to her. Diego had to climb over his wife though as she would not budge from her seat. Victoria did not look at him as he sat down beside her, but instead fiddled idly with the bouquet of roses she held.

The journey to the cemetery was filled with a silence that was thick with tension. Don Alejandro tried several times to bring his son and daughter-in-law into a conversation, but finally gave up as it was plain the couple wasn't interested in neither what he nor each other had to say.

Diego helped Victoria down from the carriage when they arrived at the small graveyard that was on the outskirts of the pueblo, about a quarter mile from the mission church. Don Alejandro was following behind them at a distance as they passed through the cemetery's gate.

Victoria first stopped at two headstones marking her parents' graves. Pulling two red roses from her bouquet, she placed a flower next to each marker. Then she bowed her head.

As she silently prayed, Diego remembered the trip to Devil's Fortress where her father had been imprisoned for nearly eight years. Zorro had helped Victoria and her brother Ramon, bring Alfonso Escalante's body back to Los Angeles so he could be buried along side his beloved wife.

Glancing over his shoulder, Diego saw his father walking several meters beyond where they stood. The elder de la Vega paused now and then to look down upon the final resting places of several of his old friends. Don Sebastian, Don Carlos, Don Eduardo. . . The list went on and on. Diego realized sadly that there weren't many caballeros left of his father's generation.

Victoria had moved on to another pair of headstones before Diego noticed she had done so. He watched as this time she removed two white roses and placed them on the graves of her grandparents.

Diego could barely recall Señor and Señora Contreras, who had been Victoria's mother's parents. They had been part of the original group of settlers who had come to Los Angeles over fifty years earlier in order to found the new pueblo.

The Contrerases had established the tavern their granddaughter now owned. Their daughter had had three older brothers, but they, like Victoria's brothers, had not been interested in running the business. So Elena Escalante had inherited the tavern, just as Victoria had.

Diego wondered if any of their sons would take an interest in the tavern. He knew that one of the reasons that Victoria hung onto it was the hope that someday one of their children would take it over. But if family history told them anything, it was that the men in her family would not be interested in it.

And now there would be no daughter to continue the line, thought Diego woefully. He glanced up to discover that Victoria had moved on again, this time walking toward the de la Vega plot.

Diego hurried over to his wife. Don Alejandro already was standing there as Victoria came up beside the old don and took his hand.

So much of his father's past was buried in the graves before them. Sebastian and Isabella de la Vega, his parents; his beloved wife, Felicidad, his unnamed daughter, and his unknown son, Gilberto. Another old friend, Sir Edmund Kendall, who had met his untimely death in Los Angeles, had been laid to rest in the family plot as well. And now Don Alejandro's tiny granddaughter had joined them.

Diego watched as Victoria gave his father several of her remaining roses. She then walked forward to where a small marker stood near the headstone of Felicidad de la Vega.

The gravestone was simple. A small carving of a lamb sat atop the marble monument. On it was carved the name ‘Mercedes Maria de la Vega', and the date of her birth and death, 29 February 1832. The date surprised Diego. He had not realized until that moment that his daughter had been born on Leap Day. She would have only been able to celebrate her birthday on its actual day every four years, he mused wistfully.

"Ana Maria picked out a nice headstone," commented Victoria, breaking into Diego's thoughts.

Another thing he hadn't known. He had no idea that the funeral arrangements for their daughter had fallen upon Ana Maria's shoulders on top of everything she had been doing. No wonder Felipe had been upset with him. He had been so wrapped up in his own misery that no one else had mattered.

And all of this must have stirred up bad memories for his son and daughter-in-law, who had lost their first child to a miscarriage. Only then there had been nothing to bury, no way to commemorate their child's existence. Diego reminded himself he needed to thank Ana Maria and Felipe again for everything they had done.

His musings were interrupted once again by Victoria, who was holding out a rose for him to take. A lump formed in Diego's throat as he took the perfect pink rosebud from his wife who kept an identical one for herself.

He knelt down as did Victoria and they both placed their rosebuds in front of their daughter's headstone.

"I wish you would have lived, niña," murmured Victoria, placing her hand on the little lamb. "I wish you could have grown up with your brothers. They would have loved and protected you just as your father and I would have." She wiped a tear from her cheek before making the sign of the cross and bowing her head.

Diego waited patiently until she raised up her head. Victoria reached out to grasp his hand. He helped her to her feet.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" asked Victoria as she brushed off her skirt. She turned to glare at him. "Don't you even care?"

"I care," Diego declared hoarsely. "It's just that. . . It's just. . ." He turned his head to return her stare. "I almost lost you, Victoria."

"But you didn't," she replied angrily. "I'm still alive, in case you haven't noticed. And our baby isn't. She's there." Victoria pointed down forcefully at their daughter's grave.

"Diego, Victoria," cautioned Don Alejandro. "This is neither the time nor the place."

"You're right, Father," agreed Diego contritely. "I'm sorry."

"Me, too," Victoria added quietly, the bitterness gone from her voice. She glanced at both men. "I'm ready to go now."

"Very well," said Diego politely. He offered her his arm, which she took, and they headed out of the cemetery.

Don Alejandro shook his head as he watched them walk away. Then he turned his attention to the headstone in front of him. Bending down, he placed the roses that Victoria had given him on his wife's grave.

"I don't know, Felicidad," he whispered. "Would this have happened to us if you had lived? All this anger and resentment?" He closed his eyes. He liked to think not. The loss of a child should be something that should bring a husband and wife closer together; it should be a shared grief, a mutual loss. It shouldn't be something that would drive them apart.

But he also had the feeling that Diego and Victoria were not mourning the same thing. That his daughter-in-law was grieving for the loss of her child was obvious. It was much harder to tell why his son was so tormented but the death of the little niña seemed to be only small part of his pain.

Sighing resignedly, he made his way to the carriage where Diego and Victoria sat silently beside each other. Don Alejandro saw a small glimmer of hope, however, as he noted they were holding hands even though they couldn't look each other in the eye.

Chapter Text

The hostile mood between Diego and Victoria dissipated to a slightly less antagonistic atmosphere in the weeks following the visit to the cemetery. Diego stopped spending unnecessary time at the winery and vineyards, although as the grape harvest neared, it became imperative he be there more often.

But there were still clashes that would flare up without warning. Diego hadn't realized that the tension between himself and Victoria had been having an effect on their remaining children. After a heated exchange of words one day at lunch which had caused Victoria to storm away from the table, Alfonso had apprehensively approached him.

"Do you and Mama hate each other?" he had asked innocently. "Is that why you fight all the time?"

Diego had been taken aback by his son's question. "No, Alfonso," he answered hesitantly. "Your mother and I. . . We don't hate each other." He crouched down so he could look the youngster in the eye. "I love your mother very much. I've loved her most of my life."

"But why do you yell at each other so much?" inquired the lad.

"It's hard to explain," began Diego as his mind searched for an analogy his six-year old son would understand. "It's like when. . . It's like when you get upset with your brothers if they break one of your toys. You get mad at them but deep down, you still love them."

Alfonso screwed up his face as he mulled over his father's words. "Oh," he finally said, "like when ‘Jandro and ‘Cisco were playing with my telescope without permission and broke it. I still love them because they're my brothers, even though they were being brats."

"Exactly," said Diego with a chuckle. He patted the boy's shoulder. "Don't worry, Alfonso. Everything will be fine."

Satisfied with his father's reassurances, the muchacho skipped off to his bedroom. Diego sat down in the nearest chair and hung his head in his hands.

The bickering had to stop, he thought, and not for the first time. But he knew what was causing the strain between him and his wife. Sex. Or actually, the lack thereof. And he knew that there wasn't anything he could do about it. The risk was too great.

Diego was careful he went to bed only after Victoria had fallen asleep and made sure he was up before she awoke. He kissed her mostly on the cheek and only would lightly brush her lips with his if he had to. He couldn't remember the last time he had held her in his arms. And knowing her frustration must nearly be as bad as his was no comfort.

But he couldn't tell her that they couldn't have anymore children. And that no more children meant no more lovemaking until she wasn't able to have them anymore. Victoria was thirty-three. It could be twenty years yet until she could no longer bear children. She would never agree to it. She would dismiss Doctor Hernandez's warning as nonsense. She would place her life in peril for another child. That was just the way she was.

Diego sighed. He realized there other things they could do, other things that would be almost as satisfying. But it was a slippery slope, he told himself. One he didn't want to find himself on because it could only lead to disaster.

EARLY AUGUST 1832

A few weeks later, Diego came home late from another long day in the vineyard. The hacienda was quiet, as it was nearly midnight and everyone was asleep.

Or so Diego had thought until he walked into the bedroom he shared with Victoria and found their bed empty. The sheets were rumpled, indicating that his wife had been there earlier in the evening. But where was she now, he wondered.

He went first to their sons's rooms, worried that one of the boys might be sick. His fears were allayed as he checked first the twins's room, then Alfonso's. All his of three sons were sleeping peacefully in their beds. Diego had kissed their foreheads before continuing on his search for his missing wife.

Not finding her anywhere in the hacienda, Diego, in his panic, was about to go wake his father when he noticed the door leading out to the courtyard was ajar.

"Victoria?" he asked in voice barely above a whisper as he walked outside. His shoulders sagged with relief as he spied her leaning against a pillar, fanning herself.

"There you are," he said, taking a couple steps onto the patio. "What are you doing out here?"

"Oh, it was so hot I couldn't sleep. I came out here to get some fresh air," Victoria replied lightly. She glanced at him and sighed. "It's so beautiful out here in the moonlight."

"As are you," said Diego sincerely. And it was true. She was like a goddess bathed in the glow of the full moon as its light turned her lovely face and bare shoulders to alabaster.

Diego was struck then by an image of Victoria leaning against the exact same pillar she was leaning upon, fanning herself as she was also doing. Only that night, he had snuck up behind her, dressed as Zorro and they had shared their first kiss. And who knows what else they might have shared if it hadn't been for his father's interruption.

"I knew that night we would be together forever," said Victoria, seemingly reading his mind.

"I did too," Diego replied huskily. "How did you know. . .?"

"The way you kissed me," she stated before he could finish his question. "It was so full of passion and tenderness. I knew that you loved me."

That had not been what he had been about to ask, but it was a good answer all the same. "I had almost lost you then too," Diego said as he walked up behind her and put his arms around her waist. "Remember?"

"Yes, I remember." Victoria relaxed against him before turning around so she could look at his face. "You tried to give up being Zorro then, didn't you? Just because I had been shot."

Diego closed his eyes. His brain was having a hard time concentrating as she pressed her soft body up against him.

"I did try," he said, his mind finally re-focusing. "But you made me see Zorro was still needed."

Victoria reached up to stroke his face. "I still need you, Diego. I always will." She brought up her mouth and kissed him hungrily. Winding her arms around his neck, she pull him even closer.

Dios, it had been so long since he had held her and kissed her like this. Their tongues intertwined as the passion between them grew. Diego didn't even notice that Victoria had unbuttoned his shirt until she was tugging it from the waistband of his trousers. He gently grasped her wrists and took a step back.

"Victoria, we can't," he rasped, breathing heavily.

"Everyone's asleep," she replied with a naughty smile before pulling down the ruffle of her nightgown, baring her breasts.

That wasn't what he had meant, but, Madre de Dios, a man could only take so much. Especially when his wife moved her hands up his bare chest, pausing to rub his sensitive nipples before leaning in and flicking one with her tongue. Moaning, Diego gathered Victoria into his arms and kissed her with a fire that was burning out of control.

They both sank down to the ground when their legs could no longer hold them. Somehow, Diego ended up on his back with Victoria straddled atop him. Their lips came apart then and they gazed into each other's eyes for a moment.

"We should. . ." ‘Go inside' was what he had wanted to say but Victoria kissed him again before he could finish. Giving in to his desire, he ran his hands up from her waist to her full breasts before caressing his thumbs across her nipples, eliciting whimpers of pleasure from his wife.

Victoria broke off the kiss and wiggled her way down his body until her hands were even with the front of his trousers. The look she gave him while biting her lip made Diego nearly lose control. She torturingly undid the fastenings holding his pants together. Smiling wickedly again, she grasped his hard manhood in her small hand.

"Victoria, please," he whispered gruffly. But again, she misunderstood him. Instead of stopping, she ran her tongue along the length of his erection.

Oh. God. Diego's eyes rolled back into his head as she took him into her mouth. His Victoria had never been shy, not even on their wedding night. And she had grown much bolder during their seven years of marriage. Much, much bolder.

Every thought of resistance was driven from his mind as she moved again and he could feel the hot moistness between her legs against his throbbing member. Diego moaned loudly as Victoria sank down and sheathed him deep inside her. They found their rhythm easily, as if nearly a year of abstinence had never occurred.

When Victoria started climaxing for the second time, Diego could no longer hold back. The thought of pulling out flashed briefly through his mind but it was too late. He thrust powerfully inside her and filled her with his seed. Victoria collapsed on top of him, breathing as hard as he was and they were both slick with sweat.

"I love you so much, Diego," she murmured into his ear before gently nipping it with her teeth.

It was several moments before Diego could speak. "Querida, I love you too," he said. He buried his face into her hair and embraced her tightly.

Then horror tore through him as he realized what he had just done. He tried to withdraw his still pulsating member from her, but Victoria kept him pinned under her. She raised up a little to gaze worriedly at his unusually pale countenance.

"Diego, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice full of concern. "You look like you've just seen a ghost."

He had. Hers. But how could he tell her that? Let her not be pregnant, let her not be pregnant, he kept repeating over and over in his head.

"Oh, it's nothing," he tried to say casually but failed miserably. "It's just that. . ." He searched his mind frantically for a good excuse. A nagging pain in his upper back suddenly gave him one. "It's just that these cobblestones are not the most comfortable things to be lying upon."

"Oh. Sorry." Victoria rolled off of him then grinned sheepishly as she glanced down at their rumpled clothing, which they hadn't bothered to remove completely before engaging in their wild lovemaking. "I guess we got a little carried away."

"Si," Diego agreed, closing his eyes. Madre de Dios, what an understatement. He sat up and took several deep breaths, trying to calm down his violently beating heart before he attempted to re-fasten his trousers. Which proved difficult to do as other parts of him hadn't quieted down yet either.

Victoria noticed his struggles and reached out her hand to help him. He knew it was no accident that her fingers grazed his manhood as she finished doing up his pants. She then put her arms around him and kissed him.

"I've missed you, Diego," she said once they had moved apart again. "I've missed this."

"I know. I'm sorry, querida," he said contritely. "But. . ." He broke off his own words. He couldn't tell her. Ever. But he couldn't let what just happened happen ever again. Diego got to his feet and then assisted Victoria to hers as well. She had pulled the ruffled neckline of her nightgown back up to cover her breasts but Diego could still see their hardened nipples jutting against the thin muslin fabric.

Victoria, aware of where he was gazing, got up on her tiptoes. "Let's go to our bedroom," she suggested temptingly into his ear. "This time, I'll let you be on top."

"Victoria," he started to say, intending to rebuff her. But he was interrupted by a voice in his head asking ‘why not?.' If the damage was already done, one more time wasn't going to make a difference one way or another, the insistent voice pointed out logically.

Then Diego glanced at his wife and the voice in his head won out. She was so beautiful standing there with a mixture of seduction and hurt in her lovely brown eyes. He swept her off her feet and carried her inside the hacienda.

The next weeks flew by swiftly. The harvest of the first fruits of Diego's vineyard commenced much earlier than he had calculated. The unusually wet winter and spring followed by a hot summer had caused the grapes to be ready to be picked at the end of August. After the vines had been stripped clean, then began the complicated process of turning those grapes into, hopefully, a palatable wine.

Despite the long hours he spent away from the hacienda, Diego kept a close watch on Victoria. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on one's point of view), there had not been a repeat of the evening in the courtyard when Diego's resolve had snapped.

As far as he could tell, Victoria was showing no signs of pregnancy. He hadn't noticed any significant differences in her moods. She didn't seem inordinately tired or pale. Her appetite was healthy. Stopping short of checking her linens for evidence of her monthly cycle, Diego was practically certain that their lovemaking had not resulted in another child.

With that burden lifted from his shoulders, Diego immersed himself into his wine making. It was a delicate process, one that required constant monitoring. By the end of September, the fermentation was complete and the wine was stored in oak barrels to begin aging.

It had been Victoria's idea to hold a party to celebrate the success of the grape harvest. Diego would have preferred to have waited until he knew if the wine it produced would be a success as well. But the look in his wife's eyes told him he didn't dare reject her offer.

"Here's to La Victoria wines," said Don Alejandro, lifting his glass. "May they become the toast of Mexico."

All the guests gathered at the tavern raised their glasses then took a sip from them.. It was unfortunate, Diego thought, that it wasn't his wine they were drinking, but one imported from Spain. Next year, he promised himself, they would be drinking his Chardonnay.

He looked across the room and into the eyes of his wife. Victoria wore an odd smile on her face as she lifted her glass to him but didn't drink from it. Then the woman standing next to her said something and Victoria turned her attention to their guest.

Later on in the evening, most of the guests had left, leaving only a few close friends and family members. Felipe walked up the staircase a few steps before tapping a fork against his wine glass. Ana Maria came up to stand next to him and he put his arm around her.

"We have an announcement to make," said Felipe with a wide grin on his handsome face. "Ana and I are going to have another baby."

The women present all rushed over to hug Ana Maria. The men stayed back, waiting until the ladies were done gushing over booties and such before going over and slapping Felipe on the back.

"She's due in April," Felipe said in response to Don Alejandro's question.

"Another spring baby," commented the old don.

Diego had to turn away from Felipe and his father. His daughter was supposed to have been born in April. She was supposed to have been a spring baby. The loss of little Mercedes suddenly tore him up inside. It had been seven months since her tragic death. The worst of the pain should have been over with, he thought. Then it dawned on him that he had never really mourned his daughter. He had been so worried about Victoria, that he had just pushed it aside to deal with later. And it appeared ‘later' was now.

He was startled to see that Victoria had been standing behind him, that Mona Lisa smile once again on her face. Without a word, she took his hand and led him into the kitchen. Dishes were stacked haphazardly on the table in the middle of the room and Victoria began to tidy them up into neat piles.

"Victoria?" Diego spoke up after watching her for a few moments.

"Sorry," she said, then set down a bowl she was holding. "Old habits die hard, I guess." Wiping her hands on a towel, she turned to look up at him.

"I didn't want to say anything in front of the others," she began enigmatically, "and I thought you should be the first to know."

"Know what?" asked Diego lightly. In his head though, all sorts of dark and ominous possibilities occurred to him. Her answer, however, was something he had dismissed entirely.

"I'm pregnant."

Chapter Text

"NO!"

Diego shouted the word with more force than he realized he could muster. "No," he repeated a little more gently, shaking his head. "You can't be. It's impossible."

Victoria gazed up at him with troubled brown eyes. "It's quite possible," she contradicted quietly. "The baby is due about the first part of May."

He collapsed onto a bench and put his head in his hands. His lapse in control had resulted in consequences after all. Dios, he had been living in a fool's paradise these past few weeks.

"Diego, what's wrong?" asked Victoria, her voice full of concern. She touched her hand to his shoulder. "I thought you would be happy about this."

"Happy?" growled Diego fiercely, raising up his head to glare at her. "Why would I be happy my wife is going to kill herself by having another child?"

Victoria withdrew her hand and took several steps backward, frightened by his reaction to her news. Curiosity over his angry response won out over her fear, however.

"What are you talking about?" she questioned him, taking a step forward. "I'm not going to die, Diego. Why on earth would you think that?"

"Oh, I don't know," he replied sarcastically. "Maybe because you almost did seven months ago." He got to his feet, then kicked the chair he had been sitting on, causing it to tipped over with a loud crash to the floor.

Victoria moved away from him again. "That doesn't mean I will this time," she stated with more calmness than she felt. Diego's rage was a rare thing and it scared her. She knew he would never hurt her physically. But that wasn't the only way one could inflict injuries.

Diego glanced at his wife then and saw the terror and tears in her eyes. "Oh, Dios, I'm sorry, querida," he apologized. He came toward her, meaning to take her into his arms, but stopped in his tracks as she flinched away from him.

"Victoria," he choked out. Holding out his arms to her, he said, "Please, I won't hurt you. I would never harm you."

"But you have," she replied sorrowfully. "No," she added hurriedly, seeing that he misunderstood her. "Not that way."

Victoria sighed. "You hurt me every time you kissed my cheek instead of my lips. Every night I went to bed by myself, it was as if you slapped me. Every time you could have just held me and didn't. . ." She broke off to wipe the tears that were spilling down her face.

"I know you don't have a mistress, Diego," she continued, "not a human one anyway. Your damn grapes and your damn wine, that's what you've replaced me with. They've received all your time and attention so all I was left with was the one night I had to. . ."

She stopped herself this time by covering her mouth with her hand. Diego stared at her, the wheels churning in his mind.

"One night you had to what?" he asked in a rough voice. Then he knew the answer. "You planned it. You seduced me into. . ." Oh dear God, he thought. He hadn't stood a chance against her wiles, had he?

"And I'm not sorry I did," Victoria retorted defiantly. Then her expression softened. "I was so lonely, Diego. I might as well have been a statue for all the notice you took of me. I had to do something."

"So the fan, the pillar, the dress? It was all planned?" Diego closed his eyes. What had happened that night had seemed so spontaneous. Now it felt tainted and tarnished.

"No," replied Victoria. "I didn't realize it until I saw it in your eyes. That night was special to me, Diego, the night when we first kissed. I would never. . .ever. . ." She shook her head. "No, I just hoped you would be concerned enough to go looking for me and I kept my fingers crossed that the moonlight and my powers of seduction could do the rest."

She smiled up at him warily, unable to tell if he still furious with her. His expression was unreadable.

Diego's mind was reeling. One question kept popping up again and again and he had to ask it.

"Did you plan to get pregnant too?"

Victoria lowered her gaze. "No, I didn't," she answered. "I would be lying if I said I wasn't thinking about it in the back of my mind. But I didn't deliberately set out. . ."

She paused, seeing that he didn't believe her. Victoria closed the space between them and placed her hands on his arms. "It's true, Diego. I just wanted you to make love to me," she declared, lifting her head to look him in the eyes. "I didn't know we would make a baby as well."

Diego took a deep breath. He could tell she was being sincere. But still. . . "What's done is done, I suppose," he said dully. "I can't pretend I'm happy about this. I'm not. If anything happens to you..."

"It won't," she vowed.

"You don't know that."

"I'll do whatever you want me to do," she volunteered. "I'll rest when you tell me to. I'll let you handle all the decisions." She gazed up at him, tears threatening to spill from her eyes again. "I promise, Diego, I'll do whatever you say," she pleaded. "Anything to get you to stop looking at me like that." And it was true. She would do anything to get him to cease staring at her like she was already dead.

Diego knew how hard it had be for her to capitulate like this. She was a proud, independent woman. It tore his heart to see her so cowed. But what could he do? He felt like her death certificate had already been written. Then he saw the tears streaming down her cheeks, and his heart melted.

"Oh, Dios, Victoria," he whispered before wrapping his arms around her. "I love you so much, querida. I just can't bear to lose you. Not like this. . . Not like my mother."

"Oh, Diego," she said. "You'll never lose me, just like you have never really lost your mother." She placed her hand on his chest. "You'll always have us right here, in your heart. Just like you are in mine." Standing on tiptoes, she reached up and kissed him tentatively on the lips at first, then melded her mouth to his when he did not resist her.

Several minutes passed before they moved apart, both gasping for air. Diego gazed down at Victoria's flushed face before placing a hand on her stomach. There was a barely noticeable bump, something someone who didn't know her so intimately or who had not been paying attention would have missed.

"You're sure?" he asked, still unable to take it all in.

Victoria nodded. "I haven't seen Doctor Hernandez yet. But I'm sure."

"I'm not sure if going to the doctor would be a good idea," said Diego, grimacing. When Victoria stared at him questioningly, he added, "He told me after. . . after what happened, that you shouldn't get pregnant again. That it would probably kill you to have another baby. That's why I. . . that's why I. . ."

"Wouldn't touch me?" she finished for him. "Diego, what nonsense. Just because this happened once doesn't mean it will again." She looked up at him, a slightly guilty expression on her face. "I have a confession to make."

Madre de Dios, what now, he thought in trepidation.

"I knew something was wrong almost from the beginning when I was carrying Mercedes," Victoria said. "I had a feeling the baby wasn't right, that she wouldn't make it."

She placed her hand on Diego's face. "I don't feel the same way this time," she stated confidently. "I know this baby will be all right. And so will I."

He shook his head. He usually never questioned her intuition. But how could she be so sure? It was true her last pregnancy had been different than her other ones. But how could she know everything would turn out all right this time? He just didn't have her confidence.

"You have to trust me, Diego," said Victoria. "If you won't, I don't know how we'll make it through this." She gazed up at him with eyes begging for forgiveness.

"I do trust you," he replied. "It's just that. . . that I can't help but worry."

"I know," she said sagely before placing her head on his broad chest. "I promise I won't give you any cause to worry."

"Seven months is a long time, querida," he declared, embracing her tightly. "So much could happen in the meantime."

"You have to have faith, Diego," she said. "You have to believe. This baby will be fine. She'll survive."

"She?"

Victoria just smiled at him mysteriously. He shook his head before lowering his lips to hers. He was going to be a nervous wreck for the next several months. He just wouldn't be able to help himself.

"Ahem!"

Diego and Victoria both jumped as the sound of someone clearing their throat came from the curtained kitchen doorway. They were startled to see Don Alejandro standing there, with the rest of their remaining guests peering over his shoulder.

"Well, I guess you two haven't killed each other," he said with a grin. "You had us all concerned when it grew so quiet in here."

Glancing at each other with mortified eyes, they realized that their ‘little discussion' must have been overheard by everyone left in the tavern.

"I gather there's another reason for celebration?" asked the old don, suddenly solemn.

Diego and Victoria both nodded their heads.

MAY 1833

"They're here!" shouted Alfonso, who was looking out the library window. He hopped down off the settee and bolted for the front door.

"Alfonso!" called out an exasperated Diego. He got up from his chair and followed after his excited son. One would believe that the lad hadn't seen his cousins in two years, not two weeks.

By the time Diego reached the foyer, Alfonso had already opened the door and had run outside to greet his cousin Diego. The two older boys each took one of little Jaime's hands and led him to the hacienda. Felipe was assisting Ana Maria out of the carriage, very mindful of the blanketed bundle she held in her arms.

"You didn't have to come," said Diego as he met the couple at the gateway. "You just had a. . ."

"I'm fine," said Ana Maria. "I want to be here for Victoria, like she always has been for me."

Felipe just shrugged at Diego before he took his daughter from his wife. Rosa Leonora Maria de la Vega had been born just two weeks earlier and had rarely been out of her father's arms since then.

They walked inside the hacienda where Victoria stood waiting for them. "Oh, let me see," she said. Felipe reluctantly handed over the baby to the very pregnant Victoria.

"Oh, she's so adorable," she cooed. She smiled up at Felipe and Ana Maria. "How could she get even more beautiful in just a few weeks?" She passed little Rosa back to her adopted son and then placed one of her hands to her bulging stomach. "You got here just in time. I've been in labor for about two hours."

"What?" Diego rushed to her side. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked sternly. "I thought you agreed to. . . "

"I wasn't even sure until about an half an hour ago," said Victoria. "It's all right, Diego." She moved her hand to his face and drew him toward her so she could kiss his lips.

Felipe kissed Ana Maria and handed the baby back to her. The two women walked down the hallway to the bedroom where Victoria would give birth.

"I'll go get the doctor," offered Felipe who was already heading for the door..

"Good. Whatever," said a stunned Diego. Well, this was it, he thought fatalistically. Probably before the night was over, he would know whether or not his Victoria would be lost to him forever. He had to take a deep breath as he felt a bit dizzy.

At least old Doctor Hernandez had semi-retired and had taken on a partner. Doctor Salvador was a round balding man in his early forties who had been traveling north from Mexico City six months ago and had taken a liking to the pueblo of Los Angeles. He had a more modern approach to medicine that Diego found somewhat reassuring.

In less than an hour, Salvador had arrived and was ushered to the bedroom. Don Alejandro and Felipe entertained the children while Diego sat brooding in a chair in the library. The two men glanced at him then at each other from time to time and tried to keep the five active boys from disturbing him.

Just as the children were being seated at the table to eat their supper, Ana Maria emerged from the bedroom, carrying Rosa.

"Here," she said, thrusting the sleeping infant at her husband. "I've just fed and changed her." She then spun around and hurried back toward the room.

"Wait! Ana!" Felipe called out after her retreating back. "What's going on?"

Ana Maria stopped and turned to smile at him. "It's all right, querido," she said. "I didn't want her new cousin to disturb her from her nap."

A loud wail emanated from the birthing room. Diego jumped to his feet and ran down the hallway. Ana Maria sidestepped out his way not a moment too soon.

He came to a halt inside the doorway and took in the scene before him. The doctor and Maria were tidying up a small, crying baby at the end of the bed. He looked at it in wonder as it flailed its arms and legs before Maria could wrap it tightly in a blanket. Slowly, Diego's gaze traveled up the length of the bed and the woman resting upon it. Victoria was smiling a tired smile, but her face was radiant as the housekeeper handed her the still mewling child.

Victoria stroked the infant's face and kissed its forehead before lowering it down to her breast where it latched on greedily. Then she looked up and saw her husband standing there, the relief obvious in his green eyes.

"Come and meet your daughter," she invited, patting the mattress beside her. Diego walked over as if in a daze.

"Daughter?" he managed to say, his voice rough with emotion.

"Si, Felicidad Elena de la Vega," announced Victoria. Neither she nor Diego noticed as the doctor and the other women slipped silently from the room. "For two of the bravest and finest mothers the world has known."

Diego sat down on the bed and stared as his newborn daughter suckled. He reached out and touched one of her tiny hands. She grabbed onto his index finger with a grip so tight it surprised him.

"Felicidad Elena Victoria de la Vega," he corrected once he could speak again. "For three of the bravest and most beautiful mothers in the world." He leaned down and kissed the baby on the forehead.

How could he have not wanted this child, he asked himself. She was so perfect, so beautiful, so full of spirit just like her mother. Guilt washed over him and he had to look away. He felt like a selfish bastard for having felt anything but resentment for this baby the past seven months. Victoria was right. He should have had more faith.

Diego felt Victoria's hand on his arm and turned to face her. He could see the forgiveness in her eyes and knew then she had known of his attitude toward their daughter.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered.

"Shh," Victoria cautioned. She glanced down at little Felicidad, who was now sleeping peacefully against her bosom. She looked up at Diego questioningly.

He gently slid his hands under his daughter's tiny body and lifted her up against his chest, cradling her head. As he gazed upon her, the little girl opened her eyes and seemingly stared back at her father.

And that was when he fell in love with her.

Chapter Text

NOVEMBER 1832

"Papa, may we be excused?" asked Alfonso. Both he and his cousin Diego were looking up at their parents expectantly.

The boys had just finished another fencing lesson. They were progressing rapidly, even though they had not had instruction for nearly six months. Diego had felt guilty about that and had resumed their regular schedule of lessons a month earlier.

"Yes, you may," he replied. "Don't go too far. It will be dark sooner than you think."

"We were just going to go visit Señor Maldonado," explained Alfonso. "We haven't seen him in ages and we're worried about him."

"Maldonado?" queried Don Alejandro who got to his feet and tossing his napkin into his plate. "Do you mean Juan Maldonado?"

Diego looked over at his son and grandson. The muchachos looked at each other and shrugged.

"I don't know his first name, Father," Diego said. "He's the old man who lives in a shack down by the river. The one where I found the boys that night."

"Madre de Dios!" exclaimed the old don, slapping his hand against the table. "I knew it." He then spun around and headed for the front door.

"Father, wait!" Diego chased after his father. Don Alejandro had his hand on the door knob when his son caught up with him.

"Father, who is this man?" Diego inquired.

"He used to work for us," said the elder de la Vega. "About twenty-five years ago. I caught him and one of the kitchen girls in my bedroom. . .uh. . .um. . ." He broke off his explanation as the boys had arrived just in time to catch the tail end of the conversation.

"What were they doing in your bedroom, Abuelo?" the younger Diego asked innocently.

"Something they shouldn't have been doing," replied Don Alejandro. His face was flushed a deep pink color. "I fired both of them on the spot."

"So why would he be living in a shack near our property?" Diego wanted to know. "It doesn't make any sense." He had only been about fourteen at the time but he clearly recalled the incident. No wonder the man had seemed familiar. And no wonder he was bitter toward the de la Vegas.

"That's just it, Diego. This shack of his isn't near our property, it's on our property. He threatened me the day I tossed him out of the hacienda. He said that one day he would own this ranch and then he would throw me out." Don Alejandro shook his head.

"So what are you going to do?" Diego asked curiously. "Evict him?"

"No," his father replied, mulling over his options. "I bet he's just waiting for me to challenge him."

"I don't know, Father. He's a sick old man, living in a crude little hovel. I think he was afraid of us finding out he was there.

"Well then, let's go." Don Alejandro opened the door and strode through it.

Diego glanced over his shoulder at Felipe, Ana Maria, and Victoria, who were still seated at the table in the dining room and shrugged.

"Be careful, Diego," Victoria called out as she stood up and placed one of her hands on the bulge of her stomach.

"I will," he said before turning his attention to the youngsters beside him. "Come on, boys."

Alfonso and Diego were the only ones who knew where this Maldonado lived. Of course, he had been there once before as well. But it had been so dark and rainy that night he had found the children there, Diego doubted he would be able to find his way back.

Diego and Don Alejandro hung back a little as the two lads ran ahead of them as they all neared the old hut.

"Señor Maldonado! Señor Maldonado!" Both boys called out their amigo's name several more times, but the old man did not appear.

"Maybe he's moved away," suggest Alfonso as his father and grandfather walked up to stand in front of the little shanty.

Diego could see the hut was in even worse disrepair than when he had visited it nine months earlier. He brushed aside the poorly re-hung blanket that served as the dwelling's door and stepped inside its dark interior.

It was obvious that no one had lived inside for quite some time. A thick layer of dust covered every flat surface. Intricately woven cobwebs were everywhere. Mice had gnawed so many holes into the straw-filled mattress lying on the floor that there was barely any fabric left at all.

"He's gone," Diego called out over his shoulder. "This place is a mess."

Don Alejandro poked his head through the doorway. "I think you're right, Diego." He backed away as his son exited the hovel.

"Where do you think he went?" asked Alfonso.

"I don't know, hijo," said the elder de la Vega.

"He said something about having some children," Diego remembered. "He said that Alfonso and Digo reminded him of his own sons at that age."

"That's because they were about the boys' age when I threw him off our property," said Don Alejandro. "They wanted nothing to do with him after what he had done to their mother."

"You mean, he was a married man when you caught him. . ." Diego paused as he noticed the two boys eagerly listening to every word.

"Si," replied his father tersely.

"Whatever happened to his wife then?" queried Diego. The poor woman, he thought sympathetically.

"Oh, she stills works for us," answered Don Alejandro. He looked at his son with an odd smile on his face. "She's one of my oldest and most trusted employees."

Diego pondered over the possibilities in his mind. He could think of only one female servant that had been at the hacienda twenty-five years ago. He stared at his father in horror.

"Maria?"

The old don nodded his head. Diego was in shock as he never realized that the de la Vega housekeeper had been married or even that she had any children. She must have managed to keep her personal life well-separated from her work, he thought. The other alternative was that he had been a spoiled, selfish young man who only cared about himself and his family. He sincerely hoped that wasn't the case.

"I never knew," Diego said.

"Maria is a proud woman, Diego," stated his father. "But she was grateful that I had gotten rid of her husband for her. By the time she realized that he was a no-good. . . a bad man, it was too late, they were married and had two little boys." He had changed what he was going to say as Alfonso and Diego were still listening. Then his expression turned thoughtful. "I wonder if she knew he was living here?"

Diego laughed. "I doubt it. She would have chased him away herself this time, I imagine." He chuckled again as a picture flashed through his mind. "With the biggest frying pan she could carry."

Don Alejandro glanced again at the disheveled hut. "I'll send some vaqueros out here tomorrow to tear this thing down. I don't want anyone getting hurt." His eyes moved to the youngsters.

"Where did Señor Maldonado go?" Alfonso inquired on their way back to the hacienda. "Why didn't he say goodbye to us?"

"He must have left in a hurry," answered Diego.

"Was he really a bad man?" The younger Diego had a look of worry on his face. "Mama told me to stay away from bad men."

"That's good advice," said Don Alejandro. "The señor wasn't a very nice fellow. But I don't think he would have hurt you boys."

Diego sincerely hoped that would have been the case. Alfonso and Diego could have been kidnapped and held for ransom, or worse. His stomach churned at the thought of someone murdering or molesting his children.

But then he looked at the happy, innocent faces of his son and grandson as they skipped along side of him and smiled. No harm had come to them and for that, he would be eternally grateful.