Title: The Best Intentions
Rated: T
Synopsis: A business trip to Santa Barbara leads to something more personal for all involved.
Disclaimer: "Zorro" belongs to the estate of Johnston McCulley, Goodman/Rosen Productions, New World Television, Zorro Productions, and (possibly) Sony Entertainment. He and the associated characters are used here only for the benefit of my fellow fans. No profit is to be made from this story. (Politics major:money:blood:turnip.)
Author's Note: Here we go, folks. First fic in this fandom and it's going to be a work in progress. Many thanks to Amy, who has kindly provided beta services. Any mistakes you see now are my fault!
Dedicated to the NWZ Group... and Tim, who provided all those DVDs I've been overdosing on. )
Victoria Escalante gave a small sigh as her eyes dusted across the darkening horizon. Stillness was beginning to settle on the Cristoba hacienda, replaced by the echo of piano and guitar as they drifted into the lush courtyard. The harmonies tangled with the chorus of crickets, coyotes, and other nocturnal creatures interlaced with periodic outbursts of boisterous laughter. Above them all rose a distinctive voice, half cackle, half laughter. It was the sound of Don Alejandro de la Vega, the reason she now stood among the roses and vines in the courtyard of the Cristoba hacienda.
It had been a tiresome week at the tavern – training a new cook, dealing with an influx of travelers with the warmer weather, and the usual insanity of Alcalde DeSoto's quest for Machiavellian dominance. All had been taxing on the already tired senorita. When she settled down opposite Don Alejandro, it was a welcome respite.
"Victoria!" the elder don exclaimed. "You look exhausted!"
The taverness smiled wearily to her dear friend. "Sí, Don Alejandro," she replied. "It has been a very long week."
Beside her, Alejandro's son, Diego, grimaced. "Yes, things have certainly been…busy," he said. "The tavern is bustling, the alcalde is inventing new taxes – it's enough to try the strongest of souls."
"I suppose so," she admitted. "The new cook will help – having her should leave me with more time to manage the tavern, and maybe even take a vacation."
"A vacation sounds like a wonderful idea, Victoria."
"Yes, it would only be for a few days, but I would take anything at this point."
"Perhaps a trip to Santa Barbara?"
The senorita eyed Diego warily. "Perhaps." Memories of her last trip with Diego swirled to the surface. They had traveled to Santa Paula to meet with one of the king's royal emissaries, to persuade him to investigate Alcalde DeSoto's corrupt and excessive tax system. They had stayed well into the day, and when they had departed later in the afternoon, it was with the intention to ride until reaching Los Angeles. A storm had curtailed their efforts, however, and the two had sought refuge in an abandoned windmill somewhere between Santa Paula and Los Angeles. She couldn't help the mischievous grin that twitched across her lips at the memory. "Perhaps. So long as it would involve an inn, rather than a drafty windmill," she chided.
Diego returned the grin, but as he opened his mouth to speak, was interrupted by his father. "Diego, are you suggesting that Victoria join us on our visit to Santa Barbara?" Victoria heard the hint of surprise in the elder man's voice.
"That's exactly what I'm suggesting, Father. Victoria needs a holiday. We leave in a week to visit Don Luis, take care of some business, and visit with his family. It would work out very well."
"It's hardly appropriate for her to –"
"Father," Diego interrupted, his voice dropping slightly, "Doña Helena is always mentioning that she feels out numbered during our visits. Especially when her daughter-in-law is feeling…withdrawn. I'm certain she would be delighted to host Victoria as well."
"You might be right at that, my son." Alejandro turned to Victoria. He offered a kindly smile. "It's certainly up to you, Victoria. We would be more than happy to have you along."
She sat, gaping at Don Alejandro briefly before realizing all attention was focused on her. A holiday? With the de la Vegas? "I…wouldn't want to impose, Don Alejandro."
"Nonsense!" Alejandro replied. He appeared to be rapidly warming up to the idea. "I will write Luis today, let him know we will bring company for his wife."
Victoria thinned her lips to a taught line as she contemplated. A few days away might just be what she needed. After a moment, she nodded resolutely. "If Don Luis doesn't mind, I think it might be a wonderful idea."
That had been a week ago. Seven days and several hours later found her standing alone in an arbor leading out of the courtyard of the Cristoba hacienda.
"No! It's mine! Give it back!"
Or at least, partially alone.
She blinked and turned her gaze from the horizon beyond, turning her attention into the courtyard itself. As quiet as it had been only a few seconds before, it was suddenly filled with the vitality of children: Sabrina Cristoba, granddaughter to Don Luis, charged into the space, followed quickly by her brother, Gabriel. In her hand, Sabrina held a long stick, carved like a sword. She stopped and whirled on her brother, standing en garde. "Sabrina! It's mine! Give it back!"
"Come and take it, baby brother!" A wicked smile twitched across the girl's features and she shifted her stance slightly. "Or are you too chicken?"
Oh the memories this brings back, Victoria thought. All those years of chasing after her bigger brothers when they stole her beloved doll, "Mora," named for her bright blue dress. More often than not, neither her mother nor father had the time to corral the two boys and force them to give the doll back. She soon learned her own offensive tactics – namely stealing the sticks and marbles the boys themselves loved so. It was a never-ending cycle that she imagined her own children would continue one day… if, of course, she ever had children of her own. In the meantime, she would help little Gabriel with his current dilemma. She stopped in her tracks, however, as a voice emerged from the shadows.
"Ah, but he's too smart to charge such a well-armed opponent."
A prickle of familiarity rushed through her. Zorro? she thought, hopeful. She stood watching in silence as Don Diego, not Zorro, emerged from a far corner of the house, stepping into the dim, orange light given off by the courtyard lanterns. The tall caballero was clad now in his crisp white cotton shirt and trousers, having lost the more formal vest and silk necktie from dinner. A lopsided smile curved the lips under his moustache as he walked, and his dark hair flopped against his forehead with each lanky step. Though she was somewhat disappointed, Victoria had to admit it was the most relaxed she had ever seen her friend.
Gabriel and Sabrina stopped, looking to Diego as he approached. "'Brina stole my sword, Don Diego," Gabriel said with a pout, "and now she won't give it back."
"I only wanted to play with it for a while!" Sabrina shot back. She couldn't, of course, allow her honor to be impugned.
Diego leveled a gaze at the young girl. "Did you ask your brother if you could borrow it?"
The girl grimaced and her gaze drifted to the sandy path beneath her feet. "No."
"Then I suggest you give it to me. If you ask nicely, I'm sure your brother will let you borrow it for a time tomorrow." Diego looked from Sabrina to Gabriel. "Am I right, Gabriel?"
"Sí, Don Diego," the boy answered.
Sabrina sighed. "Okay," she said at length. She handed the toy sword to Diego, careful not to look the caballero in the eye. "I'm sorry, Gabriel. Sorry, Don Diego."
"Why don't you go see if your grandfather will let you on the piano," Diego said, ruffling her dark hair slightly. "I know my father is just dying to hear you play."
"Really?" Don Diego nodded. Sabrina squealed, then rushed for the door leading to the music room. "Bye, Diego!" she called over her shoulder.
Victoria couldn't help but smile at the way Diego had handled the conflict. He spoke to them quietly, reasoning with them, and making them remember the guidelines their own parents had set for them. While such disciplining didn't always work, it was gratifying when it did. If only her mother and father had the time to do so with she and her brothers! Maybe he wouldn't make such a bad father himself, she mused. Diego began speaking to the boy before she could voice her admiration.
"This is a very nice sword," he said. He looked down the length of the stick, then juggled it slightly in his hand. It was far too short for the caballero, but he seemed to appreciate the workmanship. Victoria watched as he executed a quick cross-hatch pattern with the wooden toy. "And weighted well, too." With a smile, he handed the sword back to Gabriel.
"One of Papa's vaqueros made it for me," Gabriel replied as he took the toy sword. "He had the blacksmith add some weights -- make it more real." He looked up at the taller man. "Do you have a sword, Don Diego? A real sword?"
A sudden chill washed over Victoria and she instinctively drew her shawl tighter around her. Diego? A sword? A "real" sword? Inwardly, she chuckled. Not Don Diego. On the rare occasions he did wear a scabbard, it contained a lighter blade, designed for beginners or novices. Still, he recognized the different class and maneuvered the smaller wooden toy better than she expected. Did he know how to wield one better than he let on?
Across the courtyard, Diego gave a visible start at her motion and looked up from his charge. As their eyes met in the flickering light, she saw a brief flash before he blinked and reined in whatever thought tore across his mind. Was that…fear? she wondered, questioning both her sudden chill and the gleam she had seen in Diego's eyes. What could Diego be afraid of? Moving to meet the two, Victoria couldn't help but think something significant had just happened. She just wasn't sure precisely what it was.
"Victoria," the caballero said by way of greeting. He offered a genuine, if noticeably taut smile.
Victoria returned the smile, then looked down at Gabriel before turning her smile back to Diego. "I see you found a friend."
"Indeed I did," Diego replied. Several feet below, Gabriel attempted the same cross-hatch maneuver Diego had executed earlier with less satisfactory results. He patted Gabriel on the shoulder with a chuckle. "Gabriel, why don't you go see about your sister's recital?"
"Will you show me how to do that later?"
"Of course." The little boy beamed up at the tall caballero, then dashed off in the same direction as his sister. Diego watched Gabriel disappear into the house before turning back to her. "Are you feeling all right? You look chilled."
Victoria laughed at the concern. "I suppose I am a bit," she answered, readjusting her shawl. "But I'm fine. Really." He arched a skeptical brow and she blushed under his attention. "I'm just… not accustomed to all of this." She waved an arm, indicating their surroundings.
Attending the de la Vega dinner parties was one thing; being a guest of the Cristobas was quite another. While Doña Helena had been with the group, she felt very much included; her attentions were motherly in nature, and the kindness made Victoria feel welcome. That lasted until Doña Helena went to bed. Her daughter-in-law, Doña Beatriz – aloof most of the evening anyway – followed suit soon after. Victoria was then left alone with the men and suddenly felt out of place.
Diego grimaced. "I apologize for Doña Helena. Don Luis told us she was recently ill and has not regained her strength as yet."
"Perhaps I should have stayed in Los Angeles," she observed with a scowl.
"Nonsense."
Victoria felt her scowl lightened to a smile as she thought about how much he sounded like Don Alejandro.
"I'm certain Doña Helena has enjoyed your company," Diego added, pausing. "If it's any consolation, I know I have." He paused again, clearing his throat. "And father, of course."
A wry smile stole across Victoria's lips. "Of course," she echoed. Their smiles faded as silence fell over them. Her gaze drifted to the fringe of her shawl, and she fingered it idly, unsure of what to say. "I – I suppose we should go back in."
His voice was quiet when he responded. "Yes, I suppose we should."
The silence dragged on for a beat longer. Swallowing, Victoria glanced up, watching him through her lashes. The firelight danced across his features, casting shadows usually brightened by Los Angeles sunlight. He was more imposing in the dark, she noticed, outlined as he was against the lanterns, and wearing nothing over the thin cotton shirt. But it was his eyes that stood out – bright blue, caught directly as the closest lantern flared. His gaze softened as she watched, his eyes dusting every contour of her face. The expression took her breath away; she felt at once alarmed and loved – neither of which were feelings she expected to be stirred by her best friend.
Just as quickly as the expression appeared, it vanished, hidden as she turned to face him. He smiled down at her and offered his arm. "Shall we, Señorita? If we hurry, we might catch young Sabrina's concert."
Still in a state of shock, Victoria laughed nervously. "That would be...wonderful," she replied, hooking her arm in his. She moved in step with him as they crossed to enter the music room. They paused together, his hand at the small of her back as he allowed her to enter first.
"Ah! Victoria! Diego! You're just in time!" Don Alejandro called to them. He crossed and ushered them to an empty settee. Victoria smiled at Felipe de la Vega, Don Diego's adopted son, as they seated themselves, then nodded greetings to Don Luis and his son, Don Andres. She was suddenly very aware of Diego's presence next to her.
Sabrina entered from the next room and curtsied. She then climbed onto the piano stool, whirling the wooden frame until it was just tall enough for her to sit comfortably at the keys. Beaming up at her father and grandfather, she began to play a familiar but relatively simple tune. Don Alejandro leaned down from his place behind her and Diego. "I hope to be able to do this with my grandchildren someday, Diego," he whispered.
Diego shifted next to her, and they exchanged glances. He gave a nervous chuckle, looking back at his father. "I'm afraid you'll have to wait just a bit longer, Father," he muttered. The elder de la Vega shook his head, then stood and returned his attention to the recital. Diego smiled sheepishly at her, shrugging. Suddenly, she noticed, Diego de la Vega wasn't as relaxed as he had been in the courtyard. That makes two of us, she thought uneasily.