This is my entry for the Valentine's Day Challenge. The criteria are:
1. Acceptable genres: Romance; Romance/Adventure; Romance/Humor; Romance/ Suspense.
2. Victoria cooks;
3. Don Alejandro bumps his head;
4. Felipe runs interference;
5. The Alcalde has his plan thwarted;
6. Mendoza rides on Tornado;
7. Diego or Zorro is shirtless;
8. Includes an unexpected spin on the already 'classic' kiss reveal;
9. Must be published in full by February 14th, 2021;
10. Max. 3 chapters. Word count doesn't matter.
11. Must have a happy ending.
I reserve the right to add an unexpected spin to any of the criteria, not just number 8.
Chapter 1
He felt the powerful horse beneath him as they tore out of the pueblo. It was another successful mission for the masked man. The best swordsman in California, he had effortlessly defeated the alcalde and several lancers, while hardly breaking a sweat as they all collapsed, either from his gloved fist or from exhaustion. It was child's play to defeat these men who thought they were the pride of the King, but were no match for his superior skills.
His only partner was his faithful stallion, Tornado. Together they tore up the countryside, leaving the inept lancers behind in the dust. Fighting injustice and freeing innocents were both parts of his mission. The mask hid his identity and kept him safely anonymous. Unlike the lancers, he answered to no one except his own code of honor.
Tornado and he had become one as they left the few lancers who attempted to chase them behind in the dust. Once they reached the Arroyo Seco, Tornado's powerful legs effortlessly lifted them up into the air and across the deep chasm, landing softly and safely on the other side. The laughing sound of the waterfall above Devil's Gate rapidly disappeared as Tornado galloped away from it. Without breaking stride, the stallion continued on to their destination. Rider and horse were one as the miles passed. Soon the only sound he heard was the pounding of the powerful stallion's hooves keeping time with his own heart.
As they headed for home, he kept scanning their surroundings for danger. He trusted Tornado to do the same. With the horse's superior senses, he had more than once warned him of hidden dangers before the masked man noticed them. Together they made an unbeatable team.
After reaching a safe distance from the pueblo, he slowed Tornado to a canter. They could now leisurely travel and take the time to enjoy their surroundings. He allowed his mind to wander to the love of his life, the fair tavern owner who was also the finest cook in the territory. He had won her heart when he'd first appeared and released her and Don Alejandro from jail. When he'd given her his customary kiss on her hand, he could smell the spices she'd been using to cook. He smiled as he thought about the future together. His stomach growled, reminding him of all the wonderful meals they would share.
His thoughts were interrupted when they started across a wooden bridge. Tornado's hooves sounded like knocking on a door as they started across it.
The serenity of the ride was interrupted abruptly by the strident yell, "MENDOZA!" and a softer yet insistent voice calling while the knocking continued, "Sergeant!"
Bolting upright in bed, it took Sergeant Mendoza a moment to realize he had been dreaming of riding Tornado as the pueblo's hero. He bade Sepulveda to enter, and after the corporal informed him of de Soto's summons, the sergeant told him to tell their superior officer that he'd be there as soon as he was presentable. Shaking himself awake and mumbling about interruptions of the first decent night's sleep he'd had all week, he hurried to dress before reporting to the alcalde.
As he dashed to the alcalde's office in the pouring rain, he took the shortest path, hoping to stay dry. With a deep sigh and a heavy heart, he admitted to himself that his own job had been so much easier when the masked man brought bandits all tied up neatly like Christmas presents.
~Z~Z~Z~
The rain had caught the residents of Alta California off guard. It came softly in the night, a gentle respite from the previously dry months. Three days of nonstop rain were causing tempers to flare from being cooped up inside. And just as they thought it might end when the rain seemed to become intermittent, the winds shifted, bringing a deluge in from the ocean.
The torrential rain now threatened flooding and damage to homes, barns, and businesses. The people who could were working on repairs that had been delayed due to poor crops and high taxes. Even the garrison in Los Angeles was affected. Not able to mount patrols in the now-heavy downpour, the lancers were kept busy making repairs, especially to the roof where Zorro and Emissary Risendo had fought several weeks ago. The Emissary's fall had dislodged several roof tiles, and in the flurry of activity afterwards, that roof had not yet been repaired.
The overcast skies and dark clouds reflected the mood of the citizens. Their hero had not been seen since the so-called truce offered by the late Emissary and was feared seriously injured or dead. The only person pleased by his absence was Alcalde Ignacio de Soto. He didn't have to contend with the outlaw, only his guilty conscience for having shot the Emissary in the back. He publicly claimed to have only done it to save Diego de la Vega's life, but the knowledge that at least part of his motivation was to save his own life hung over his head like a storm cloud. Among the lancers and citizens, it was a well-kept secret that his true motivation had been obvious.
Just when the citizens thought the storm couldn't get worse, it turned violent when the winds picked up, lifting and carrying loose items, even large ones. Flying objects were a new hazard to the area, and most people remained holed up inside their homes or businesses.
The weather was too dangerous for both travelers and Victoria Escalante's regular customers, neither of whom felt it safe to brave the storm. The farmers and ranchers had animals to care for, and moved as many as they could inside before the storm became ferocious. The de la Vegas also were affected. Their hacienda and other buildings were faring well, although the wind caught loose tiles, which ended up miles away. If this kept up, even they feared the roofs would leak, or worse, collapse.
Everyone pitched in to help, even the heir who was widely thought to be ineffective when dealing with problems requiring strength and physical skill. With the storm threatening, the servants and peons saw a side of Diego that only the older ones who knew him before he'd gone to Spain recognized. He worked right next to everyone, always seeming to be in the right place at the right time. While their respect for him grew exponentially, no one thought more about it then, since their attention was taken up by the ever-changing threats of the storm.
~Z~Z~Z~
Victoria's Tavern was empty except for the proprietress, who lived in it. It had been several days since she'd had any company, and she found she missed Diego's calming presence even more than she missed Zorro, whose visits were irregular and too brief. Usually the De la Vega heir was there every day, although he and his father had avoided the pueblo for two weeks after Risendo's death. Victoria used the opportunity of no guests to air the empty beds, flipping the mattresses expertly. After all, she'd done it for over a decade.
She also kept a fire going with stew and hot water to make tea or coffee, should anyone brave the storm. From experience, she knew they'd be tired, wet, and cold. And if she didn't need the food during the storm, afterwards she was sure to have a brisk business from the lancers at least, since the garrison's food was inferior to her own.
When the storm raged outside the afternoon of the fourth day, she decided to check again all the tavern's windows and shutters. After checking the ones upstairs, she methodically checked the rooms downstairs. While they were all secured, she noticed a leak in the storeroom's ceiling. It was an add-on structure that was only one story high. With a sigh, as a precaution she decided to move everything she could to the taproom, which was dry. Ever practical, it was close to the storeroom, which was off the kitchen. It also had tables on which she piled items to keep them off the floor, in case there was a flood.
She worked diligently until late in the night getting everything she could to safety. Her tables were piled high, yet grouped efficiently and neatly. She had one table for spices, one for staples — like flour, sugar, and salt — and so on. So focused on her supplies, as she grew more tired, she failed to notice the storeroom's ceiling sagging. As she made her last trip, the ceiling above her gave way, drenching her. In her hurry to leave the room, she slipped in the kitchen's now-slick tile floor. She fell, striking her head on the corner of the kitchen table, which knocked her out.
She never felt the cold wind or rain that blew into the storeroom. Since its door to the kitchen was open, the kitchen became cool and overnight the fire died, chilling her even further.
~Z~Z~Z~
Diego's dreams that night were filled with terrors about Victoria. He tossed and turned, finally giving up and getting dressed just before dawn. He dressed in some of his oldest clothes, knowing he'd likely be working in the mud today. But, with his unsettled dreams, he decided that first he would go to the pueblo to check on Victoria and her tavern.
Maria, the cook, had suspected that the caballeros would be up early, so had breakfast almost ready by the time Diego finished dressing. After Maria informed him that his father was in the dining room, he headed there, but didn't immediately see him. He was about to look elsewhere, when he heard a thud followed by his father's exclamation of pain.
"Father?"
"Down here, Son."
Diego found his father under the table, uncharacteristically lying on his stomach and rubbing his head.
"Are you all right?"
"Yes, I'm fine. Just a small bump on the head when I misjudged the table's height. I had dropped some papers, which scattered."
"Do you need any help getting up?"
"A hand would be nice," Alejandro replied.
Effortlessly, Diego helped his father stand and then sit in his chair at the head of the table. Checking the older man over surreptitiously, he seemed to be all right. Meanwhile, Felipe had entered the room and quickly picked up the scattered papers before someone slipped on them.
Waving his hand, Alejandro dismissed his son's concern, "I'm fine, really. The biggest wound is to my pride."
Diego broke into his crooked smile, "Your secret is safe with me."
"Yes, I can trust you. Both you and Felipe know how to keep secrets. Thank you, Son, for your help."
"De nada."
"I was going to suggest we check out the pueblo this morning, since it's stopped raining. Would you be willing to do that?"
"Of course. Will you take it easy, and leave the hard work to the vaqueros or send for me?" Diego cautiously asked, not wanting to further wound his father's pride.
"Yes, I am a bit tired."
"We all are, Father. I am concerned how Victoria and her tavern fared. I thought I could head out after breakfast, if that is all right with you."
"That's fine, Son."
Felipe signed, "What about me?"
Before Diego could reply, Alejandro asked with a smile, "Why don't you two both go? You can both check on Victoria, her tavern, and The Guardian."
Just then, the serving girls brought in their breakfast dishes. Alejandro filled his own plate, and improved quickly over the course of the meal. With relief, Diego and Felipe left. Felipe disappeared for an errand while Diego went to the barn. There, he pulled the head vaquero, Manuel, aside and asked him to keep a close eye on the older man. He quickly agreed, and later also asked Maria have the servants inside the hacienda do the same.
Felipe returned with two bundles of clothes, clean shirts and pants for them both. He signed, "Just in case."
Diego shook his head as he headed to the barn, thinking it was past time that Felipe stopped being a servant and worrying. With a sigh, he realized that habits were hard to break. If he had thought of packing the clothes, Felipe wouldn't have needed to. He promised himself that he would be more aware of ways to subtly nudge the young man to be more independent and more of the caballero he would be when his adoption was finalized. After the storm's damage was assessed, he planned to discuss that option with Alejandro, so they could present a united front. There had been too many secrets kept from his father for far too long, and it was time to end the secrecy.
The closer they rode to the pueblo, the more urgent his feelings of dread grew. At first, he'd shaken this feeling off as residual from his dreams, but as the pueblo grew near, he realized that something was wrong. The buildings all looked intact, although lancers and citizens were on the roofs, making repairs. He stopped Esperanza in front of the tavern and dismounted, noting that Sergeant Mendoza was just stepping onto the porch.
"Ah, Don Diego and Felipe! How did the storm treat you both and your father?"
"Just some relatively minor damage so far. I am concerned about the risk of flooding, though. Are you here to also check on Victoria?"
"Yes," the sergeant replied before stepping up to the doors, finding them locked, and then knocking loudly. After a few minutes, he noticed the don was becoming increasingly agitated. "Perhaps she overslept."
"Maybe. I think Felipe and I should check the back door. Come around to the back if we don't open the door shortly. In the meantime, why don't you keep trying to knock."
"I suppose we could break down the doors."
"Only as a last resort, Sergeant," Diego replied just before they disappeared around the corner. Running to the back door, they found it also locked. Checking around the area, he saw no one looking. While Felipe was his lookout, Diego pulled out his lockpick and used it to unlock the door.
Scanning the kitchen, he saw Victoria, unconscious on the floor. He quickly removed his jacket, covering her.
Sergeant Mendoza came in the back door just as Diego gently moved Victoria onto her back, unknowingly correctly positioning her head to open her airway. Felipe removed his own jacket and also spread it over the proprietress. Diego thanked the young man. Silently, Felipe noted the room was chilly and hurried to rebuild the fire.
Diego exclaimed, "She's freezing and soaked!" Feeling her neck for a pulse, he felt a slow one, and his sigh of relief was heard by the other two. As he checked her more closely, he let out a strangled cry of horror, "She's not breathing!"
Next he placed his hand close to her mouth and nose, and felt no air moving. Checking her chest, it wasn't moving. Frantically, not knowing what else to do, he opened her mouth before cautiously placing his mouth over hers. Diego didn't realize that his own cheek blocked the air moving in and out of her nose, just like pinching the nostrils together in CPR discovered many years later. Next, he gently blew life-giving air into her lungs.
Between giving her breaths of air, he pled frantically, "Breathe, Victoria!"
So intent on saving his beloved, that he only nodded absentmindedly after the sergeant offered, "I'll get Dr. Hernandez."
~Z~Z~Z~
She was lying on the ground in a meadow. It was a beautiful place, and she knew Zorro would be here soon. After all, he always came in time. She felt rather than saw him as he caressed her face and began to kiss her. This was exactly where she longed to be, in the arms of the man she loved.
Someone's frantic cries broke the silence of this place and interrupted his kisses. The voice was familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. Concentrating on it, she realized that she wasn't in a meadow, but smelled the familiar scents of her kitchen. The voice was frantically telling her to breathe, which seemed silly to Victoria.
A man's lips covered her mouth. Before she tried to breathe, she suddenly felt warm inside. This sensation continued intermittently until she realized Zorro was breathing for her. She would recognize those lips and the mustache that tickled her cheek anywhere. Plus, his scent was unmistakable. His voice told her to breathe again. As she did, his lips covered her mouth again.
She moved her own lips, initiating a kiss. After a moment, Zorro pulled away, and she frowned. She grabbed his shirt. Instead of the silk shirt she knew so well, she grabbed at an unfamiliar one. Coughing, she tried to sit up. Familiar arms wrapped around her, gently helping her. When he whispered softly, "Open your eyes," she did.
And found herself looking at the concerned, unmasked face of her beloved.
A/N: Thanks to CMA6725 who created the challenge, encouraged me to enter and graciously read my first draft, making suggestions that improved this story.
Please take a moment to comment and let me know what you think.