Chapter 13

"No! Victoria! No!" Diego yelled but then he looked around confused. He was lying in his bed but how did he get here? And why was he still alive? The last thing he remembered was standing on the gallows and seeing Victoria die before he was to be hanged next. He couldn't forget the moment when the light left her eyes while she was looking at him. He had struggled to reach her, but the guards had held him too tight. The memory would haunt him until the rest of his life. What had happened then? Had it only been a dream? But he knew that Victoria's death had been real — and still he was here in his bed. Had the alcalde released him and had his father taken him back? He had no memory of it.
How could he go on now without her? Diego forced himself to get out of bed and dress for breakfast. His father would hopefully be able to give him answers.

"Diego, it good to see you up early for a change," his father greeted him at the dinner table. "But you look terrible. Did you read late again?"

"Father, can you tell me what happened yesterday?" Diego asked. "How did I get home and what about Victoria?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Diego. We had lunch in the tavern where everyone was still talking about the attack on the post coach two days ago while the soldiers were still chasing the Ramirez brothers for the attack. Zorro may get them first after he has been seen at the site of the robbery yesterday. After we drove home from the pueblo, you were busy with your experiments and after dinner, you beat me again in chess."

"But that was on Tuesday, not yesterday," Diego objected. "What about Victoria? What happened after ..." He could bear to pronounce it. He couldn't say after her death because that only would make it even more real.

"Are you all right, Diego?" his father asked, concerned. "You almost sound as if you were crying. What's wrong? Why are you asking about Victoria?"

"Father, please tell me what happened yesterday. I don't want to know about Tuesday," Diego begged him.

"Yesterday was Tuesday and today is Wednesday. Where are you with your mind?" his father said.

"It's not Sunday?" Diego asked, confused. "What date is today?"

"Today is Wednesday, the twenty-first of March. Can you please explain why you are asking all these questions? Did you drink too much last night and now can't remember anything?"

"Today is Wednesday? Then Victoria is fine? And it's still three days until Don Emilio's birthday party?" Diego asked joyfully.

"Of course, Victoria is fine. At least, she was working in her tavern yesterday as usual. And about the party, you still haven't told me if you were joining me or if you are too busy with your experiments again. Maybe you should go back to bed and catch up some sleep until you can think straight again," his father said, annoyed. "Can we finally have breakfast now?"

"I'll tell you about the party later," Diego said, starting to eat hastily. "I don't think I'll go, but I haven't decided yet. I have to go to the pueblo first."

"There's no need to gulp down your breakfast, Diego. Take your time, and we can ride there together."

Z~Z~Z

When Victoria woke up in her bed in the morning, she couldn't remember how she had gotten into her bed in the tavern after she had broken down in front of the gallows and lost consciousness. Someone must have carried her back to the tavern and taken care of her. The light shining through the window shutters gave the impression of a gray day instead of the bright light of the previous days, and she only found it fitting after all that had happened. She wanted to stay in bed instead of getting up to work.
"Mamá, what am I going to do now?" she cried, as she turned to the picture of her mother on her nightstand. She reached for the small frame but then something odd struck her, making her sit up. The frame was completely whole! How could that be? Only two days ago, a sudden blast of wind had blown it from her nightstand and completely shattered it. She had been able to save the drawing of her mother, but the frame had been beyond fixing. Had someone replaced it last night? But it was the same frame, showing the use from touching and holding.
As she looked around in her room, she noticed the Easter decorations on display that she had packed away after Easter three weeks ago. What was going on?
Unable to stay in bed any longer, she rose and opened the shutters to look around. It was a gray day as it was typical for March and also the trees and plants hadn't started blooming yet, looking different from what they had yesterday. Confused, she got ready and dressed for the day though she had no idea how to go through it.

It wasn't long when there was some banging on the door and when she opened, Mendoza was standing in front.
"Why isn't the tavern open yet? I've been riding the whole morning to chase the Ramirez brothers and arrest them."

"What did they do again? Wasn't it enough the alcalde falsely accused them of robbing the post coach?" Victoria asked. "If it hadn't been for Zorro they would have been hanged for something they didn't do."
"What do you mean with again?" Mendoza asked, confused. "They robbed the post coach two days ago and killed all passengers except the driver who survived and could describe them."

"But that can't be. That happened last month and Zorro proved their innocence," Victoria objected.

"What are you talking about, Señorita?" Mendoza said. "This was the only coach robbery in the last six months. Thanks to our well-trained garrison, the bandits no longer rob the coach because they know we will find and hang them."

"Ha! Do you call that clumsy bunch of soldiers well-trained? The garrison wouldn't be able to catch any bandits if it weren't for Zorro's help," Victoria snorted before she left quickly for the kitchen to fetch his order. The thought of Zorro brought the tears back into her eyes, and she didn't want to cry in front of her guest.

It took her a moment to compose herself before she was ready to serve him. If she hadn't just put the glass in front of Mendoza, she would have dropped it, as she saw her next customers.

"Diego?" Victoria stared at him as he entered the tavern with his father, heading for Mendoza's table. How could Diego be standing there when she had seen him die the day before? Was this a dream? If so, she never wanted to wake up again.

"Are you all right?" Diego asked, looking at her strangely.

"It's just good to see you," she stammered, while she continued looking at him.

"It's good to see you too," he said sincerely, putting his hand on her sleeve for a short moment. His touch assured her that this was real, and she wished he hadn't withdrawn his hand so quickly.

"Señorita Victoria, please bring us some wine," Sergeant Mendoza ordered with a grin, knowing that Diego never drank wine but didn't mind paying for it.

When Victoria returned to the kitchen, Diego excused himself and followed her. Unable to keep her hands from shaking, Victoria had put down her tray on the kitchen table and turned around to face him.

"It's all right, Querida. I know how you feel," he said strangely. "What is the last thing you remember from yesterday?"

At first, she wanted to question him why he was asking her this, but then she simply burst out the truth. "Yesterday, I saw you die on our wedding day," she said, still in shock.

"And I saw you die yesterday," he whispered. "And I can't stand losing you again." Diego drew her into his arms and kissed her like never before. It felt as if they were both drowning and their kiss was the only thing to keep them alive. When they drew apart, they couldn't take their eyes from each other while standing in a tight embrace. "I love you and I can't live without you, but we have been given another chance because today is only the twenty-first of March and not the twenty-fifth," Diego whispered.

"It's still March? I thought it was the nineteenth of April," she asked, confused. "Why are you talking about the twenty-fifth of March? Why are you telling me this? Do you know what is happening? Is this a dream? I know it was real when I saw you die." She started to cry as she put her arms around his neck. "It's so good to see you alive and to feel you," she cried. "Please hold me and tell me that I'm not dreaming. Tell me that the nightmare is over."

"I don't know what is happening here, but you can't know how happy I am to see you," Diego said. "We had this conversation in the kitchen before when you were confused about the date. Do you remember that?

"We talked about this before? When? Why don't I remember that? What is happening here?"

"I don't know. We need to talk about this in private. Do you have time during siesta?"

Victoria nodded while she wiped her tears with the handkerchief he handed her. "I'll always have time for you."

"We can't stay much longer inside the kitchen or people will wonder what we're doing here," Diego said.

"You have to go back to your table," she urged him while she wiped her tears. "I need another minute to be presentable again."

"You look fine," he assured her. "Beautiful as always." Diego's remark made her smile again. "And even better when you're smiling," he said. "You can keep the handkerchief." Diego was about to head back to the main room when he suddenly turned around again.
"There's one thing. You can't go to that party neither with Don Pablo nor with me. Please, promise me that!" he begged her, worried.

"I didn't plan to go with him," Victoria assured him. "But how do you know I wanted to go with you?"

"Because it already happened, and it ended terribly." Diego didn't hide his horror.

"I'll stay at home or whatever. I promise."

"There's so much that can go wrong, but we have to discuss that later." Diego gazed at her again before he left the kitchen.