E P I L O G U E
The bell at the San Miguel mission was ringing loudly, as monks and nuns gathered at the gate to prepare for whatever wounded person was incoming.
Old Nance was with Eliza, holding the girl's sweaty hand as she was carried into the large stucco building on a cot. Old Nance quickly handed a generously-sized ruby to the monk at the gate, and barked out directions in Spanish as he opened it for them.
The pain was torturously ripping through Eliza and she felt as though surely her body would pull apart. "Won't be long, now, miss," whispered Old Nance. "You've done braver things than this, you 'ave!"
As with most things, Old Nance was right. Soon enough, after one last agonizing push, Eliza felt the baby leave her body. She cried with joy upon hearing the cries of her infant child. After being cleaned, the baby was wrapped in a colorful blanket and handed to its mother by Old Nance, who was a might teary herself.
"Should I tell the father?" asked the nearby nun of Old Nance.
The woman answered the nun in muted tones, using the story that had been previously rehearsed. "Eliza's husband went into the sea during that 'orrible wreck," she explained. "The gov'nor a' St. John gave her the only treasure recovered, to let her live comfortably, poor thing. Can you imagine, widowed at twenty?" she asked the nun, hoping the nun believed her story yet realizing the irony of asking the nun a question like that.
Eliza looked down lovingly and full of awe at the dark, pink, round face now sleeping in her arms. Now Eliza would have someone to love and share adventures with for the rest of her life, a long life full of endless possibilities. Her daughter, she thought. Hers and Jack's. A bittersweet tear made its way down her nose, dripping onto the baby's forehead. The baby screwed up her face and looked for a moment as though she might cry, but let out a soft coo and resumed her sleep.
"And what will you name the baby, senora?" asked the nun.
Eliza could think of only one appropriate word in the whole world; she repeated it proudly and with all her heart.
"Esperanza."
T H E E N D