Chapter 4.
With satisfaction, Victoria looked at Paco, who was working at the tavern for the third Saturday in a row. Don Diego was sitting at his favourite table having a conversation about something with Don Emilio.
Sergeant Mendoza was disappointed by it and was now sitting on the other side of the room, eating a plate of tamales.
The largest table in the room was occupied by a group of vaqueros from one of the nearby ranchos, celebrating yesterday it was Friday, and they had received their wages.
By now, Paco knew a bit about what he could do to help. Today he had helped with the dishes, cut vegetables for the stew Victoria was serving tonight, and now he was clearing tables as the tavern slowly emptied. She smiled, Paco had gained a lot of confidence in the past few weeks.
Last Sunday, Padre Benitez had confided to her that Paco was enjoying the freedom he had gained and behaved more and more like an ordinary child and now participate in the many games from which he secluded before.
She also knew that the two pesos she gave him at the end of each Saturday. Would faithfully be brought to the hacienda that same afternoon. She grew fond of the boy and planned to ask him to continue working after he had paid off his debt.
Victoria wiped the sweat from her forehead, opened the oven, taking out a load of freshly baked cookies and set them on the workbench to cool.
Victoria had purposely baked too many so that Paco could take them to the orphanage later today. It felt good to be able to do something small that brought so much joy.
Paco left the kitchen to the dining room to get more dirty glasses and plates when moments later she first heard a dull thud, a cry of terror and pain, followed by thunderous laughter.
Victoria hurried forward while wiping her hands on her apron and opened the curtains separating the dining room from the kitchen.
Paco was sprawled on the floor next to the table where the vaqueros were sitting. Crying was closer to him than laughing.
Victoria was immediately aware that one of the men deliberately had tripped the boy. She took a deep breath, her nostrils widened. She stepped forward and opened her mouth to make it very clear to the man that she would not tolerate this behaviour in her tavern.
But to her surprise, don Diego beat her to it.
Even faster than she had reacted, Diego had jumped from his table and pulled the man from his chair. Clenched fists held the man at the front of his shirt. Don Diego, being over 6 feet tall, lifted the man a few inches in the sky till his feet barely touched the floor.
Diego looked more angry and fireless than she ever remembered. The look in his eyes was icy cold, frighteningly dark and menacing. The tone in his voice filled with restrained anger. For some reason, shivers ran down her spine. Not out of disapproval or disgust, but because something elusive in how Diego behaved seemed familiar to her.
Victoria took a few steps forward. Paco had now scrambled back to his feet, and Victoria stood between the vaqueros and Paco. Determined that should the man start a fight. She would defend both Paco and Diego as good as she could.
Don Diego must have acted out of some sort of reflex. And she had to prevent him from getting hurt or feel the need to challenge a man to a duel, as it happened once before.
With amazement, Victoria saw not an ounce of fear or restraint in Diego's demeanour.
Diego hissed at the young man through clenched teeth. "You are a guest in this tavern. So conduct yourself properly and show respect to those who wait on you."
The three other vaqueros almost burst out laughing to see their friend so cornered, while they all knew the reputation of the cabellero. "Si, Marco. You better be a little nicer to the crippled! We don't want you to get hurt."
This remark seemed to fuel Don Diego's anger even more. Victoria knew Diego would never hurt anyone. She pushed Paco back into the kitchen and gripped the broom in the corner tightly. It wasn't a real weapon. But if necessary, she could use it to give some serious blows. It might get out of hand, and Diego did not stand a chance, unarmed against four men. As a matter a fact, Diego also had no chance when he was armed. Because everyone knew that the don could hardly distinguish a sword from a broomstick at all. No, that was slightly exaggerated, but it was close.
The other three men rose slowly from their table, while don Emilio, who had sat at the table with Don Diego, drew his sword tight as a precaution.
A burst of nervous laughter broke the icy silence.
Up to that moment, sergeant Mendoza had watched everything calmly. He was too distracted by a large portion of tamales to have seen the cause of the fight.
"Amigos, behave yourself. Nobody likes a fight, and least of all, señorita Escalante. You don't want to lose her hospitality now, do you? I'm sure this is all a misunderstanding. No one intended to trip the boy. Besides, I don't want to arrest anyone. Thanks to Zorro, both cells are already filled. So let us leave it at that?" Reluctantly, Sergeant Mendoza turned to the always peace-loving and problem-avoiding don. "Don Diego, please, let him go."
"Then he better apologize to Paco first." Diego still held the vaquero tight by his shirt and had half lifted the man off the ground. Marco struggled to get his toes in contact with the floor. His face grew redder, and he began to look cramped.
It was a side of Diego that Victoria had never seen before, and she kind of liked it.
It seemed as if one of the most patient and thoughtful men she had ever known had lost his self-control. But that was nonsense. Diego would never lose his self-control, simply because he had never needed it before.
Mendoza smiled nervously and tried again to calm things down. "Don Diego, I think you have made your point. Let go of Marco." It was that Diego seemed to know where he was and what was doing. The muscles in his arms relaxed, and Marco's feet touched the ground again.
Marco tried to give himself some attitude. Smoothing his shirt with his hands, he muttered something that sounded like he didn't mean to trip the boy, and it had been an accident. Then he threw a few pesos on the table and angrily stamped out of the tavern, directly followed by his comrades.
"Don Diego," Victoria took a step toward him. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, I apologize for letting myself go like that. Señorita Escalante, please forgive me. I don't know what came over me. Paco, did he hurt you?"
The boy shook his head.
Diego kept apologizing and repeating that he didn't understand what had come over him.
"Well, I thought it was nice to see a more fiery man for once. You should step up for yourself like that more often." Victoria complimented the man, meaning every word. "And thank you for defending Paco."
The look of horror on his face made Victoria feel sad.
After Diego had made sure that Paco was all right, he left the tavern not much later, clearly still upset by his odd behaviour. Victoria saw how he mounted Esperanza, and with a gentle trot, he left the pueblo.
Poor Diego, he must have been shocked. Once he had realized what he had done and what could be the consequences, Diego had not known how fast he had to crawl back in his shell.
If Mendoza had not had managed to appease Diego, he had not come out unscathed. Even while Don Emilio had been about to side up with Diego, coming to his aid. Victoria only hoped Diego would not think much about it.
An incident like this could keep her friend from showing up in the pueblo for days. If only for fear of being attacked or being challenged.
Paco sat on a stool in the kitchen as Victoria poured a large cup of milk and placed one of the now cooled biscuits next to it.
"I'm so sorry, señorita Victoria. I broke two cups and one glass. You may deduct the damage from my wages."
Victoria ruffled his hair.
"There is no need for that. First of all, it wasn't your fault. It was that man who made you trip. And second, do you really think I never dropped anything or any of the helpers? That is part of running a tavern."
"Don Diego really was mad, wasn't he? I don't think I've ever seen anyone that angry."
"No, indeed." Victoria agreed thoughtfully. Now Paco mentioned it, the anger seemed to have prevailed more than fear afterwards.
"He also helped with that thief."
"What thief?" the tavern owner asked in surprise.
"That thief in Santa Paula. Don't you remember, señorita? I told you on the way home from Santa Paula. Someone had robbed a señora, and the lancers where chasing him. When the man was close to us, Don Diego threw a flower pot, and it landed just in front of the man feet, causing him to trip. And because of that, the lancers could catch up and arrest the man."
Now Paco brought it up again, Victoria vaguely remembered something like that. Paco had been so busy in his enthusiasm on the way back from Santa Paula to Los Angeles that she hardly had listened to what he said, mentally occupied with the tavern.
"Hmm." Paco just had a bite of biscuit in his mouth that he was chewing.
Don Diego, a man of action? Don Diego acting instinctively and standing up for weaker ones?
Victoria racked her brains, it was so unusual for the don who was famous miles from Los Angeles for his passive and wait-and-see attitude. For a moment, the most unbelievable thought crossed her mind, which Victoria immediately waved away.
It must have been Diego acting on some strange impulse. Something he never did. Diego was so timid and cautious. And besides, everyone knew that the youngest de la Vega wanted nothing to do with violence or danger.
Still, she felt a tinge of pride. It was probably because Diego always had an eye for the less fortunate and unlucky.
After all, he did save Felipe from the battlefield years ago. He took the boy under his protection, just as he was starting to grow up. Despite his hesitant and timid attitude, don Diego was one of the most beloved inhabitants of the pueblo. Unlike many other young dons, Diego was always willing to lend a helping hand. Although, often, it was different from physical help, as he had done with Paco today.
Pilar walked in to place an order, and Victoria thoughtlessly started filling a bowl.
Later that afternoon, Diego told Felipe, who was listening open-mouthed, to what had happened in the tavern. "It was definitely not a clever thing to do. You may say it was stupid. But when I saw that bastard stick out his leg to trip Paco on purpose, it turned red before my eyes.
Yes, Felipe, you are right. And I do hope I was able to convince Victoria and Mendoza, as well as the rest of the audience, that it was not my intention to react in this way, and I was horrified by my acting. When it becomes known that don Diego has what it takes to be a man of action, lives are at stake."
Diego was about to enter the cave when the clock caught his eye, and he turned abruptly and blindly grabbed a book from the shelf and plopped into the chair.
Felipe looked down the hall to see what Diego had seen that he had missed, assuming Don Alejandro was about to walk in. When he saw nothing, he looked at Diego inquiringly. Without Felipe making a gesture, the don understood and answered his question.
"It's almost half-past five, so Paco will be here any moment."
Felipe motioned for him to go to the cave in advance to take care of Toronado.
"You, go and do that, Felipe. I'll see you soon."
Meanwhile, Victoria, her mind had drifted back to Don Diego. A man who made no distinction between rich and poor, religion or otherwise. Everyone was equal to him. He had helped Native Americans with their land claims and copper finds. As far as she knew, he had never asked for more in return than friendship. Diego helped farmers improve their crops, never hesitated to read the alcalde pamphlets to those who couldn't read. He had acted as a lawyer several times in court cases in the village. All these things he did in a barely noticeable way.
Even her, a woman, he treated as his equal.
Yes, she had to admit, the señorita who won over the heart of the don would gain herself a wonderful husband. One of the few other men she knew who had those character traits was Zorro.
A mischievous laugh escaped her throat. It was a good thing she loved Zorro, and Diego had no interest in her at all, or who knows what could happen.
How did her mother say it when she was young? You may look elsewhere on the menu as long as you always come home for supper.*
She better keeps these thoughts to herself. Although a jealous Zorro? Victoria bit her lower lip. That didn't sound too bad, just a little jealous.
.
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I realized some might not understand this Dutch phrase. So here is the explanation for
*You may look elsewhere on the menu as long as you come home for supper. (je mag best ergens anders op de menukaart kijken, zolang je maar thuis komt om te eten.)
It is an idiom and means something like even when you are in a relationship, you may find someone else attractive, that is fine. As long as that's it, and nothing else happens.
By the way, did I mention I like reading your reviews and what you think about the story?