It's all taking a bit longer because I'm revisiting all my stories and looking for errors. It is a slow process, but the earliest stories should be easier to read now. And I am working on the others. It also gives me time to think about how I'm going to shape this story. And I've dug into my computer to revisit ideas that I once wrote down but never did anything with.

Chapter 2

Victoria looked with satisfaction at her latest column in The Guardian.
Diego had initially disagreed, but after some convincing arguments including, that it was her column, and he had promised her a free hand, he had agreed, and the letter had appeared in full in the paper.
She was amazed at the uproar this had caused in the small pueblo. Many women hoped that their lover or husband had done such a thing or would do something different. It was considered romantic.
The matchmaker herself had said that she was astonished that a man lived so romantically in the Los Angeles area. And that she was determined to find out who this man was. She wanted to bring him and his lover together.
Yes, who was this man? And the next question, of course, was, who was the woman? It had to be someone special.
The number of women in the territory was much lower than the number of men, especially unmarried women. Most people agreed with the matchmaker that the poem was the proclamation of the love of a silent admirer of his secret love.
Did this mean that besides Zorro, there was another man with a secret identity, the one of a writer?

The letter had also led to more letters written to Dona Corazón than ever before.
She had received more letters in one week than in the whole previous year. Victoria had read them one by one. Most were simple notes with things like: I love Maria. Or: one day, I hope to marry you.
It had caused a kind of invasion of secret declarations of love. The handwriting was always different, so there was nothing from the secret admirer as Victoria had named him in her mind.
That had been the case at least until three days ago.

Victoria had given the column that had appeared today to don Diego when a few hours later Felipe had appeared.
To deliver a letter, and Victoria had recognized the handwriting immediately.
It had not been easy to wait until the tavern was closed. But as soon as she could, before she had even started to clean up, she had torn open the envelope and read the contents.

I can't say that I love you. I have to hide it deep inside me.
I can't say that I need you. And that hurts every time you look at me.
I wish I could find a way to express what is really true.
More and more, I wish I could tell you how much I feel for you.

For a moment, Victoria had shut her eyes and imagined that Zorro would write her such a thing. But that was nonsense. Zorro knew she loved him, and he loved her.
Though, he had never said it out loud. It wasn't as if his feelings for her were a mystery. The whole pueblo knew about them.
Not only that, it would be too risky for Zorro to do such a thing. He didn't know she was dona Corazón. Zorro would deliver to her himself. Like he did when he sometimes placed a rose on her pillow.

A small sound echoed loudly through the empty room, and Victoria spun around. On the balcony sat Zorro. Victoria grinned widely as her lover hurried elegantly downstairs and pulled her into his arms for a passionate kiss.
"I hope I'm not disturbing you? I know you're busy."

"You can never disturb me anyway." Victoria just managed to utter before, for the second time, Zorro pressed his lips to hers.

"I was worried about you. The alcalde seemed very determined to outwit you this afternoon."

Zorro had appeared in the square this afternoon. And just like countless times before, the alcalde had not shown any kind of gratitude. Only put the horse thieves Zorro had brought in jail and then sent his lancers after the hero.

"It took quite a long time for the soldiers to return. I feared that they would finally manage to chase you." Victoria expressed her fear.

"Yes, they do seem to be improving. But it takes more than that to outsmart a fox. Or keep mine away from you."

Ah, who needed a poem writer, when you had a hero who said these things at your disposal.
A strange noise sounded, and Victoria looked around. She started laughing when she realized where the sound had come from. "It sounds like your stomach is trying to tell you something."

"Um, yes, I haven't had time to consume anything yet."

"I think I have some stew left if you are interested?"

"Gladly."

When Victoria went to bed that night, she was walking on clouds. For the second time ever, she and Zorro had shared a meal. He had complimented her on her cooking. And the meal had been cosy and snug.
After they had talked about random things, the conversation had turned to what was on everyone's mind at the moment. Who was the mystery writer? She had tried to find out if Zorro had any suspicions about the man's identity.
Zorro had admitted having read it but to find it rather impersonal to declare your love to someone in this way. And it was badly written too.
Victoria had defended the unknown man. She told Zorro that it didn't matter anyway. It's all about the gesture. The effort that someone puts into expressing their feelings.
The look in Zorro's eyes when he had looked at her to say that if he was ever able to express his feelings for her, not even Shakespeare could describe it.
She had been out of breath when Zorro had thanked her for the delicious meal. After kissing her once more, he had left like a shadow in the night.

The thought occurred to Victoria that it was a pity she did not keep a diary. To write down what Zorro had said to her.

The next morning Victoria was up early with her daily worries.
It was market day, and that always brought extra turnover but also extra bustle. She had already walked around the market and selected the best fruit and vegetables, to use in her dishes this week.
When she returned to the tavern, she saw that Pilar was busy getting don Alejandro a cup of coffee.
Out of habit, Victoria walked up to the man to wish him goodbye. Don Alejandro was not only a regular guest in the tavern but also a good friend. "Buenos Días, don Alejandro." She greeted the older man.

"Buenos Días, Señorita."

"Was don Diego once again 'too busy' to accompany you so early in the morning?" The tone in Victoria's voice made it clear what she actually meant by too busy. It was no secret that the son of one of the most important men in the territory thoroughly disliked getting up before noon.

"Ah yes, you know Diego. He is not an early bird. He will come later because yesterday he mentioned that he had things to do for the Guardian." Alejandro took a sip of his coffee and continued. "He is more like a night owl. It was well after midnight when I finally heard him come home. And where did he eat? Don't ask me. He wasn't home during dinner. And then, stay in bed until I don't know what time. He should be grateful that I am so generous. My father would pull me out of bed every morning if I tried something like that."

"He is indeed fortunate, don Alejandro." Victoria agreed with the man. "My parents wouldn't have been amused either." A memory surfaced in her mind. "My mother used to say, 'A big girl in the evening than a big girl in the morning too.'"

"Maybe I've been too soft on it too. Diego was so different before he left for Spain.
Then he was always up and about before the sun even rose above the horizon. Student life in Madrid made him different. When he had just returned, I had high hopes that he would return to his old pattern. But he seems to like it too much."
Alejandro went in silence for a short time. Then he continued. "Ah, everyone changes with the years. Who knows, maybe even the alcalde will have an epiphany. And changes his mind about how to act correctly."

"Don Alejandro, you are not asking for an epiphany. You are asking for a miracle." Victoria chuckled.

By now, several new guests had arrived, and there was no longer time to chat with the don, but Victoria had to work hard to keep her guests happy.
It was indeed a busy morning, and Victoria was glad when she could close for siesta and give her feet a rest.

From a small box, she took out the letters that had come in recently and began to reread them.
While reading, Victoria sorted them into two piles. One pile she would keep for a while but did not intend to use. And the other pile from which she wanted to take the letter for her new column.
The secret admirer's poem would definitely go in the last pile. The words in the poem wandered through her mind. She knew those words were not intended for her. But she understood that many a woman in the pueblo had such hopes. And she secretly hoped that it would not be long before she received a new letter.
Maybe she should talk to don Diego.
The number of letters proved there was also a need for expressions of love in the newspaper. Perhaps she could get some more space.
She couldn't arrive for the second time with just a poem, so Victoria decided to write a comment. From behind the counter, she fetched a piece of paper, ink and a quill. She sat down and thought deeply. After many more attempts, Victoria read her advice half an hour later.

Dear writer,

It must be hard to have those feelings and unable to express them freely, whatever the personal reasons.
My advice to you is, do not hide your feelings. There are other ways to show them than just with words.
Your letter in this newspaper is a good start. But give your love a little something else, make her feel special and appreciated. Pay her a compliment.
Many a woman is sensitive to this kind of attention, and it can be an opening to grow closer to each other.

I wish you all the best, dona Corazón.

.

.