Chapter 37

Diego's fever raged on through the next day, but now he remained quiet. Both of them exhausted, Victoria and Felipe continued Diego's treatments together, resting when possible at the bedsides of their ill loved ones.

Diego did not wake at all during that time, the relapse apparently taking much out of him. During the night, Victoria thought he might have been awake as she found his hand over hers, and once his arm was over her. She had not slept much, dozing only at intervals, as she feared he would become delirious again. She had rested next to him to be alerted should he stir or try to get up again.

She woke up again at sunrise, his arm awkwardly over her shoulder and waist. She ran her hand over his face lightly; his fever had broken. The sheets were soaked under him from the perspiration of his fever finally breaking. He would feel better after they bathed him and changed the sheets.

Actually hungry this morning, she slipped out from under his arm to go to the kitchen to ask that some breakfast be brought to his room, and brought back some hot water so she could wash. She felt like cooking for a distraction, and actually missed it, but was afraid to leave him alone for too long. She washed what she could reach without removing her clothes. She would try to fit in a more relaxing and thorough job later. As tired and worried as she was, she was surprised her mood seemed somehow lighter today.

Maria brought the food tray, and called to her softly through the partially open door. She went over to receive the tray, thanking her. Turning back into the room with the tray, she looked up to see Diego watching her. Seeing him awake once again, her mood was definitely improved. Smiling playfully, she went over and set the tray down on the table next to the bed, then sat next to him.

"Good morning," she said cheerfully, kissing him deeply.

"Good morning," he whispered hoarsely.

"How long have you been awake, and how do you feel this morning?"

"Long enough to…wish I wasn't trapped…in this bed…but still tired," he returned playfully, but his voice lacked much energy. Speaking still initiated a coughing spasm, which left him sore and exhausted, but these episodes had been getting fewer and easier, thanks to the treatments.

"Hold on to that first thought," she said, running her hands over his shoulders teasingly, but truly basking in the fact he was awake again. "Would you like some breakfast, some solid food maybe?"

"Hmm…," swallowing hard, trying hard to ignore his feelings, "I am rather hungry," he said, his voice raspy from lack of use and arousal. The look in his eyes suggested more than physical hunger, however. She chose to try and ignore these thoughts.

"That sounds encouraging. Your fever broke during the night. Let's get a dry blanket under you so that you won't be lying on these wet sheets, just until we can get them changed. I don't want you getting sick again," she suggested. "Then I'll switch places with Felipe and he can bathe and clothe you and we'll get your sheets changed," she told him, still cheerful. "Hopefully, your fever won't be going back up." Folding the blanket she had used during the night and keeping him covered, she had him roll as far as he could from side to side until she could get the dry blanket under him. Then taking the fork, she cheerfully speared a bite of egg and offered it to him.

"How's my father?" he asked, accepting the bite.

"Eat a few more bites, and if you promise to stay put, I will check on him," she told him, feeding him a few more bites then offering him some juice. "But Doctor Hernandez has stayed the last two days here, and I'm sure he can tell you more than I can. I know he will be in soon."

As she finished speaking, Felipe came in, signing that the doctor was in with Don Alejandro.

Diego smiled at his young friend, "Thank you…how are you?"

Felipe smiled back, glad to see his father awake. **I'm good, now that you are home and awake. **

She turned to him and smiled, "Good morning, how was Don Alejandro's night?"

**Quiet. He slept. He did not give me any trouble. ** Felipe looked playfully at his father then at her, smiling with a wink.

"What?" Diego asked innocently.

"Your fever went quite high night before last, and you were upset about your father…you were delirious and kept trying to get out of bed," she told him honestly.

"Sorry," Diego said bashfully, and added softly, "I really don't remember." She could tell that he was getting tired again, but was fighting the urge to go back to sleep. She knew he wanted to talk with Doctor Hernandez about his father. He looked at her, but she couldn't help the suspicious and worried look on her face. She didn't want him to tire himself out.

Doctor Hernandez appeared at the open door, knocking as he looked in then entered. "Good morning! How are we today?"

Everyone looked at Diego. "Apparently…I was not a good patient…last night…but I do feel better today," he said quietly, shyly.

The doctor ran his hand over his forehead. "Well, you don't feel warm this morning. That is good. Are you nauseated at all, short of breath?"

"No, and…Victoria even fed me…some solid breakfast…How's my father?" he asked, changing the subject.

"I'm talking about you now. We will talk about your father in a few minutes when I'm done," the doctor continued. Victoria watched the interaction between the two, and was unable to suppress a giggle at the way the doctor dismissed Diego's question. "Have you tried to sit up any more than this since you have been home?" referring to his current height in bed.

"No, I've rather been out since then…I don't remember much of…yesterday or last night," Diego admitted.

"I know that you are still weak, and had a relapse only the night before. As those episodes are getting less frequent, we are going to work like they are behind us, and we'll just deal with them when and if they occur again. You have now been in this bed for a very long time. My experience with pneumonia is that patients do much better if they can get up, or sit up frequently at least. Being confined to bed seems to aggravate and worsen the condition. Talking will also become easier the more you heal and the pneumonia improves. How is your arm? Have you tried moving it at all?" the doctor continued to question. The wise and observant physician could see that his patient's eyelids were getting heavy, but that he was fighting going back to sleep.

"Not that I remember," Diego answered.

"Well, let me get everyone to step out for a few minutes while I check you out, and then we will talk about your father," the doctor instructed. He closed the door after the last one was out and returned to the bedside.

"Now, let me look at this shoulder. How does it feel—honestly?" He looked sternly at Diego as he removed the dressing. "This looks well enough that I think we will leave it uncovered."

Diego looked up at him sheepishly. "It feels fine."

"Let's see you move it—slowly," Doctor Hernandez instructed.

Diego first moved the shoulder up, down and around as best he could while lying down. He then reached out with his arm. He tried to hide the grimace, but the wise doctor caught the flash of discomfort. Diego continued to move the arm and shoulder around, though it was obvious it was painful. The exertion had tired him obviously even more.

"It's ok. The movement will come back, and be less painful as you work it more. I want you to start moving it purposely several times a day. DO NOT OVERDO! I think that the blood transfusion I gave you from your father may have helped, and hopefully, your fevers are behind us now. You can be warned, though; I know who I'm talking to." He frowned sternly at Diego.

Diego looked at his friend in suspicious surprise. "You know—what?"

"Your secret; I'm guessing that because of it you are fiercely independent, to the point of pushing yourself too hard; but I'm guessing, too, that independence has helped to keep you alive." He paused. "Your secret is safe. We, the pueblo, owe you a lot. For this, you are a dear friend, but, above all else, it is you who is important to us." He playfully added with a chuckle, "The doctor orders you to take care of yourself."

"Yes sir," Diego said shyly, the surprise making him unsure how to answer.

"Let me see these ribs. You've had lots of injuries in the past, as the scars can attest, that I have not treated. I don't know if you have had broken ribs before. These, my dear boy, will take a long time to heal. I suspect that every rib on this side has been cracked and at least two or three were actually broken. Victoria and your father really did a good job preventing you from puncturing your lung while you were so delirious in the cabin." The physician continued to talk as he unlaced the corset and started looking at the bruises. He palpated over the ribs, eliciting a loud painful gasp from his patient. He looked at Diego. "This recovery will take a long time, Diego, mainly because of these ribs, but also because of the amount of blood you lost. The ribs will take the longest to heal, and puncturing a lung will be a danger for a long time—even months. This recovery will probably be longer than any injury you have had to endure; if you don't behave, it will take even longer, and that's if you don't relapse."

Diego tried to listen intently to what was being said. He watched the doctor as he worked, not saying a word, even as the physician retied the corset. His eyelids were getting heavier, but he wanted to hear about his father.

"You almost died, Diego. You are healing, but I would not say that you are out of the woods just yet. The tension, both from the attack itself, and from worrying about you, has caused your father to suffer from an attack of severe stress. You need to behave so your father can recover, too," the doctor continued.

"Is this…a guilt trip? I must have…done a lot of talking…while I was delirious… Who else knows?" Diego questioned shyly.

"Yes, it is; those two in the next room and Padre Benitez know. I think that only Victoria figured it out by things that were said back in the cabin. The padre figured it out by deduction, me by my exam, and I'm guessing that Felipe already knew, didn't he? I'm speculating that your father does not know yet. They and your father all put their heads together to help save you. So, I will find out pretty quickly if you are not following my orders to take it easy. Know that you are very important to them," the doctor admitted, smiling.

"Sounds like a conspiracy…Did Victoria or Felipe put you…up to this?" Diego wore a tired, shy smile back as he spoke, his head sinking back into the pillow.

"No, but I do mean it. Let's try sitting up a little. Let me raise you up a little and see how you do with that. I will help you; tell me immediately if you start feeling any way odd."

Diego rolled to his right side to use his good arm to help as best as he could. The doctor slid one arm behind his patient for support while he tried to place pillows behind his shoulders with the other. Diego only made it half way up before his color whitened and he had to be lowered back down to the bed, panting and perspiring.

"Well, I guess I don't have to worry about you going too far just yet. I'll have Felipe raise your pillows some each day so your body can adjust. Drink plenty of water and juice, and eat some solid foods; work your arm, but for now, stay in bed. I'll get the others so I can tell everyone about Alejandro."

He opened the door for Victoria and Felipe to enter. The doctor motioned to the chairs and both sat. "As always, thank you for your patience. I'll start with Diego. I feel like I rather repeat myself when I refer to my findings, but I want to know of any improvements due to your hard work. His shoulder wound is healing, and I think it is well enough to leave it undressed. I've instructed him to work his arm and shoulder as in usual light daily activities. His ribs look as well as we could expect, but again, they will take months to heal. I think we should leave the corset on for now. We can untie it long enough to bathe him, while he is lying down. His breathing sounds good, so we are going to try to work toward getting him out of this bed. For now, we can hope that his fevers are behind us."

He turned toward Felipe, knowing how close Felipe and Diego were, and continued his instructions. "Felipe, we need to try to acclimate his body to being in an upright sitting position. To start with, just raise his head with pillows for about thirty minutes three times per day. We will gradually increase this as he gets to feeling better and is awake more, progressing to sitting in a chair, then eventually to standing. But due to the blood loss, it will take his body a long while to make up the difference in what we gave him and what he needs. Until then, he will feel dizzy." He turned to Diego, to make his point, "it will be slow going until then."

"Now, as for your father, I gave him a sleeping draught the night he became ill and had Felipe continue to give it to him on a schedule because I wanted him to sleep. Lack of sleep and the fact he pushes himself way too hard does not help him. The events of the last few weeks have not helped; but this might have occurred anyway," he again looked at Diego, "because he does push himself so hard, even under normal conditions."

Victoria watched Diego, seeing him look down at the covers as the doctor was speaking. She braced herself for any anger coming her way from Diego regarding any feelings of his she had shared with the doctor.

"He should be awake later today, but I want him to stay in bed and rest for the next couple of days. He will have the meds nearby if he feels another attack coming on. Keeping him from pushing himself may be a very hard task."

Victoria spoke up. "I plan to stay on to help out for as long as needed. I will keep an eye on both of them."

Felipe smiled as he looked first at Diego then at her. He had told her already that he was glad for her presence at the hacienda. Diego's current facial expression confirmed he was also glad that she was staying.

The doctor smiled, too. "I'm glad to hear that. I think all of these stubborn de la Vega men need a strong female presence to keep them in line."

She blushed, replying, "I will do my best."

The doctor laughed. "I have faith. They may just listen to you. Since everyone is as well as can be expected at the moment, I am going to head back to town. Call me if they give you a hard time. You should have plenty of medicine here, for both Don Alejandro and Don Diego, and sleeping draughts for both if needed. Don't hesitate to give it to them if they need it."

"Thank you and we won't. I'll see you out," she politely told the physician, as she walked him to the front door.

Felipe went to the kitchen to get hot water to bathe Diego, returning with the hot water and clean sheets. He was rather surprised upon his return to see that his father was still awake, as tired as he was. He was well aware of his determination, so he watched him suspiciously. He helped Diego to bathe, but Diego still had said very little. He rolled from side to side as much as he was able to allow Felipe to change the sheets. Freshly shaved, bathed and in a clean dry bed, he had remained silent, and Felipe began to worry. Maybe he had overtired his father and friend.

**Are you OK? You are very quiet,** Felipe signed, touching Diego on the arm to get his attention.

Diego looked up. "I'm sorry…I've been thinking...I can't go there,…and Father can't…come here, and I'm trying to think of some way we can communicate," he said, still pensive.

Felipe looked at him with an amazed look. Diego, to be so intelligent, could be so stupid at times. **Send written notes,** he signed.

Diego chuckled lightly, which started a coughing spasm, at which he groaned in discomfort.

Felipe, slightly annoyed, signed, **It's better than nothing, and it works for me.** He began to smile. **You don't seem to have a better idea.**

Diego looked at him, a tired, smile on his face. "I know it does, and…no, I guess I don't… Can you let me know…when he awakens?"

Felipe nodded. Seeing that his father was really showing his fatigue now, he instructed him to rest, and then he would help him to sit up more and send a note to his father if he was awake. As Felipe started to clean up, Diego looked at him, smirking, "Yes, mother."

Felipe looked at him with a half smile and started to reach out toward

Diego's head to playfully swat him, but stopped halfway and pointed his finger at him instead. He didn't want to hurt his father, and knew that he was overtired already and needed to rest.

After resting for a couple of hours, Victoria notified Felipe that Diego had awakened. She watched for a few minutes as the two interacted before heading into sit with the elder don. Felipe helped Diego sit up more in the bed and propped him with pillows. When he was questioned, Diego said he was OK. Felipe then instructed him to work his arm, standing nearby to help if needed.

Diego was doing well at the moment to even be sitting halfway up in the bed. Felipe had noticed a greatly paler color come to his father's face as they sat him up, saw the beads of perspiration on his upper lip and brow; but Diego didn't complain. He didn't even groan. But Felipe really hadn't expected that he would, so he wasn't sure how truthful Diego was being when he said there were no problems.

Diego saw Felipe looking at him, pulled his head up from the pillows behind him and lifted his left arm slightly off the bed. "Really, I'm fine. Can you check…on my father, please, and send...Victoria back in? I'm sure…that Father will feel better if he is cleaned…up, too, if he hasn't been already." Diego sounded slightly irritated.

Continuing to look at him for a moment more before leaving, Felipe finally nodded. He was glad to see the relationship between Diego and Victoria so relaxed, but he was also a little hurt at the abrupt dismissal. He also knew his father, however, and he realized that this would be one of many temper flares during the intolerably long (to Diego) recovery ahead. Brushing his feelings aside, he turned to go to relieve Victoria and tend to Don Alejandro.

TBC