A Hero's Heartache
1 - Adventure

A Hero's Heartache

Chapter 1: Adventure

A/N: This story takes place five and a half years after A Horse of A Beautiful Color.

With some difficulty, Alejandro De la Vega shifted in the chair behind his desk in his study. Of all the forms of earthly penance God had devised for man, the old don considered gout to be the worst. Diego, summoned to the study with Margarita and young Alejandro, leaned forward and asked with concern, "Father, are you all right?"

"I am fine," came the brisk reply, which of course was not really true. He took a deep breath. "You remember last summer when we had dinner with Don Domingo Cortez and his two brothers?"

"Of course!" declared Diego. "Rosarita's father and her uncle from San Buenaventura had come to visit their brother Miguel who lives here in Los Angeles."

"As I recall it was a very pleasant evening," offered Margarita.

"Sí, and we spoke much of horses over our dinner," continued the elder De la Vega. Then he picked up a piece of paper from the desk. "I have received a letter from Don Lorencio Cortez —"

"The brother who lives near San Buenaventura," interrupted Diego.

His father shot him an annoyed look. "— who tells me that he has just taken delivery of four Arabian mares, and he wishes to breed them to our Conquistador. Assuming all is successful, each of us will keep two of the offspring." He set down the letter. "I am very much inclined to do this. In fact, I plan to accompany Conquistador to San Buenaventura so I can visit with Don Lorencio and see these mares for myself."

"I think that's a fine idea, Father, as long as you are well enough to travel. But what does that have to do with Margarita and me?"

"It concerns Margarita and you because I propose to take Alejandro with me."

"Abuelo! Sí!" exclaimed the boy, sitting up suddenly, his eyes wide with excitement.

"The two of you, alone, all the way to San Buenaventura!" cried Margarita, aghast. "That's far too dangerous!"

"No no mi hiha!" replied Don Alejandro, raising his hand, palm out, to calm her. "There will be six of us. Alejandro, myself, two vaqueros to manage Conquistador and a pack horse and two more as guards. All of the vaqueros will be armed."

The response from Alejandro's parents was stony silence.

"I...don't…know," began Diego, shaking his head.

"Come now, Diego, why not? Alejandro is a strong, intelligent lad. He rides well enough for such a journey. Soon he will be twelve years old. It is about time he saw some of the world beyond the Pueblo de Los Angeles. We will make a leisurely journey and spend a night or two under the stars." The elder Alejandro now raised his eyebrows. "Or would you prefer to wait until he runs off with his friend Ricardo to find a golden idol with ruby eyes hidden in the hills by the Indians, like a certain other twelve-year-old that I could name?"

Diego chuckled. "Ah yes, that twelve-year-old. I must admit, you have me there, Father."

Margarita, brows furrowed, looked at her husband. "What?..."

"I see," continued Don Alejandro, "that there are many things about his boyhood that my son has neglected to tell you. But as I said, the vaqueros will be armed and —"

"I could be armed, too!" blurted out the boy.

"No you couldn't," stated both his parents in one voice.

"But how would I be able to protect Abuelo if we were attacked?"

At this Don Alejandro De la Vega threw back his head and laughed. "I assure you, mi nieto, that as old and feeble as I might appear to you, I am still perfectly capable of protecting myself!" He turned his attention back to Alejandro's parents. "Well?"

Margarita looked at her husband. He was giving her that cajoling look that she could almost never resist, his hazel eyes twinkling. Then she looked at son's hopeful face. "I think I'm outnumbered here." Turning back to the elder Alejandro she sighed and declared, "Very well, he may go. But you must take very good care of him."

The old don beamed. "It is settled then! I will reply to Don Lorencio and we will make arrangements!"

"Gracias Papá, gracias Mamá!" Alejandro jumped up and was about to run out of the room when his father's voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Alejandro, your manners por favor."

The boy bowed to his grandfather and said, very formally, "Con permiso."

"Of course!" replied the old don, as formally as his grandson but grinning all the while.

Then Alejandro walked slowly over to the doorway. Once through, however, the three adults could hear him shouting as he ran down the hall: "Roberto! Roberto! I'm going on a trip with Abuelo!"

A few weeks later a small traveling party was gathering outside the patio gate at the De la Vega hacienda. The vaqueros were holding the horses, and young Alejandro and his grandfather were saying their good-byes to the family. Diego placed a hand on his son's shoulder: "Adios, mi hijo. Above all things, listen to Abuelo."

"I will, Papá," replied the boy, who then turned to his mother.

"Be careful, Alejandro. If there is any trouble go to your grandfather and do exactly as he tells you," she said, hugging him tightly.

"Of course, Mamá," he replied with great dignity, pulling away and resenting somewhat that his mother seemed to believe he was still a child. He walked over to his horse and Diego gave him a boost up into the saddle. He settled in and picked up the reins.

Now Diego faced his father, who was smiling broadly. "Diego, I believe this trip is making me feel younger already, and we have not even left the hacienda yet." The two men embraced, patting each other's back. "We should return in ten to twelve days. If there is some significant delay I will send word." He swung into the saddle and the vaqueros followed suit. Conquistador, on a double lead, began to toss his head and paw the ground, restless from standing idle for so long. "See," cried the elder De la Vega, "even he wants to be on our way." The group turned their horses and cantered down the track to the main road, waving over their shoulders to those they had left behind.

"Vaya con Dios!" called Margarita, waving in return. "Isabella," she said to her five-year-old daughter who was standing beside her, "wave good-by to your brother." The little girl loosed one hand from her doll and complied. The younger two children, Estevan and toddler Emmaline, had not come out.

As the group receded down the road Margarita leaned back against her husband, who wrapped his arms around her waist. "He looks so small…"

"He couldn't be safer, querida. He is in the company of five men, each of whom would give his life to protect him. Especially my father."

"Let's hope it never comes to that," she replied with a sigh.

"Where is Alejandro going?" asked Isabella in her small voice.

"To see something of the world," replied her mother.

"But why couldn't I see something of the world?" protested nine-year-old Roberto. His face had been in a permanent pout since breakfast. "I ride almost as well as Alejandro does."

Diego got down on one need and addressed his second son. "Your turn will come one day, I promise."