Chapter 2

The next day held a new bit of excitement as she looked anew at all of her customers, searching for any clues that could eliminate more names from her list. When Don Hector appeared in the doorway, she all but doubled over in laughter. It was hard to explain to Diego and his father what she found so amusing.

"Do you get the impression we've missed out on something?" Don Alejandro asked his son when Victoria left to attend to her other arriving customers.

"Victoria does seem to have a merry twinkle in her eyes this morning." Diego had already noticed that she was wearing the necklace even though the pendent was not on it. Perhaps it was a bit too ostentatious for everyday wear in a tavern.

As accustomed as Diego was to watching Victoria slyly, so as not to arouse anybody's interest, today he found it difficult not to stare outright. What was she doing?

His father took his leave to go conduct his business with the blacksmith and Diego settled down at a table in a back corner. Here, he could watch without being noticed. It only took two glasses of orange juice and about a half an hour for him to figure out just exactly what she was up to as she went from table to table talking to and questioning all the male customers.

He smiled to himself as he set his own agenda. Running a slender finger along his mustache, he was lost deeply in thought when Victoria joined him at his table.

"Diego, I didn't know you were still here. You're being awfully quiet. Just what are you up to today?" she asked pleasantly.

"Just being a bit lazy, I suppose. I need to be on my way though. The wagon is loaded down with some blankets and other things I am taking to the Indian village on the west ridge this afternoon."

"Padre Benito told me last week about that village. They have had a tough time of it lately. Perhaps I could go with you. Can you wait a little longer? I could fix up some baskets of foodstuffs. Is there more room on your wagon?"

"Yes, of course. And I would love the company." Her offer wasn't really that surprising. Victoria was generous to a fault. It was one of the many qualities he loved about her.

Before long, the wagon was indeed more loaded down with baskets of food and supplies.

"It's a perfect day for the drive," Victoria commented. The sky was blue with a scattering of white puffy clouds rolling leisurely across its expanse. The small brook that ran beside the trail gave them a soft bubbling background to their friendly chatter. They caught up on each other's news as the wheels rolled along toward the village.

"Did you hear that Miguel Ramirez wants to start courting Maria? She's excited about it, but he hasn't even said a word to her yet. He's going to make sure her father approves first. Isn't that sweet?"

"Very sweet." He looked skyward and laughed.

"Oh, Diego, you are impossible. She's young and he's a good match for her. What's wrong with that?"

"Oh, and is that what you were doing today in the tavern? Setting up this match for Maria? I saw you today!"

"Saw me doing what?" she asked nervously. "I was just serving my customers!"

"You were interrogating your customers! And I think I can guess what it is you are doing. You, Señorita, are compiling a suspect list!" He laughed heartily. "Maybe you should get Sergeant Mendoza to help you. I am sure he has had some training in detective work. And after all, you are trying to find the same man, are you not? You are trying to discover who Zorro is!"

"Oh, Diego, when you say it like that, it sounds so —"

"So silly?" He was wiping the tears from his face now, he was laughing so hard. "All right, Victoria, I am sorry. I should not have teased you like that." He fought hard to regain his composure. "But you have to admit, that after all this time—"

"You don't think I can do it, do you?" Oh, he was beginning to make her angry now. "I think I know Zorro just a little better than you do. And if I put my mind to it, I will figure out just who he is!"

"But do you think Zorro would want you to? He seems to think it is necessary to protect you and everybody by not letting them know who he is. He may not take kindly to your setting out to expose him."

"I wouldn't expose him!" She was shocked at Diego for thinking her capable of that. "I just want him to know —"

"To know what?" Diego's voice was full of kindness now.

"I want him to know that I am intelligent enough to figure it out, and trustworthy enough to be trusted with his secret. That's all. Is that so terrible?"

"No, Victoria, of course not." He switched over the reins to one hand so he could put his other arm around her. "And I am sure Zorro knows as well as I do how intelligent you are. There is no need to convince him of that." He gave her a one-armed brotherly hug, but he could feel her resistance to the comforting gesture. So he searched for a safer subject. Victoria was far too emotionally involved with this. He hadn't really thought she was that serious about this little investigation of hers. "Did I tell you Felipe is now wanting to study to be a lawyer?"

"A lawyer? Felipe?"

"Yes, it is what he says he wants to do. He has a fine mind. I am sure he will do well at anything he tries. I have to assume he would gravitate more towards the research aspect of the profession. His lack of speech wouldn't hurt him there."

"And lack of hearing!"

"Oh, yes, that too."

"Where will he go for his schooling?"

"He has not decided yet. I am hoping he will choose to go to a school here. If he really wants to study law, studying in Madrid would not help him with the law here. Father is no more anxious than I am for him to go that far anyway. I sometimes wonder that Father ever permitted me to go. It takes such a chunk out of one's life. But, in my case, I am very glad he did. I learned so much in Madrid."

"And changed so much."

"Did I?" He looked at her, partly hoping she would continue.

"You know you did. I sometimes…" She stopped. It would do Diego no good to hear that she sometimes cursed the changes Madrid had made in him.

He had left as a boy, with the promise of becoming a great man. Yet he had returned a disappointing failure in her mind. Oh yes, he was still kind and sweet. And he was even more handsome than when he had left. But the change was there. Now she saw him wasting much of his life on idleness. He read, painted, played the piano and he took a major role in the philanthropic efforts the de la Vega's had always made. But so much of the time, he just seemed so lazy, so content to just stand around and let things happen. If only he still had that spark that she had seen inside him as a boy. That boy could do anything. And usually would.

She smiled at the picture of the Diego of their childhood. A boy that had lost his mother too soon. He had always been sensitive to the needs of others before that had happened. But afterwards, he had become almost obsessive in that area. He had championed any child who was targeted by a bully. Whenever another child was being cruelly teased, he offered comfort and aid. He had wiped many a tear from her own eyes. At least that part of the child was still present in the man. He was still a sensitive, caring human being.

She realized she had been quiet too long and reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. "Diego, you're such a good friend. I've always been grateful for that."

He smiled with his lips, but if she had looked closely at his eyes, she would have seen the hurt. And as usual, whenever something hurt, he changed the subject. "You know, the Indians think of this space between the brook and that ridge as a sacred place. I tried to learn how to pronounce the name once, but I could never wrap my tongue around the word in the right way. Their language is somewhat tricky. I am glad they are not as intimidated by Spanish."

"The extent of your knowledge overwhelms me sometimes, Diego. You must spend every spare moment with your head in your books. Is there any subject you don't know something about?"

"Countless ones, I am sure," he chuckled. "But I didn't learn that from a book. You know, you may not know me as well as you think you do, Señorita Escalante! Ah, here we are." Diego said it all with the same imperturbable smile, but Victoria wondered why her comment had ruffled his feathers so.

He had been in a rather strange mood the entire afternoon, but she couldn't put her finger on what was wrong with the man. Sometimes he could be so maddening.

She smiled at her mental use of the word to describe Diego. It was the same word she had used to describe Zorro. Maybe she attracted that kind of man!

When the wagon pulled up at the Indian settlement, she jumped down from the wagon seat before he could even offer her his hand.

They were greeted by several of the women and most of the children. The wagon was emptied of its bounty in minutes, and the two young people were whisked over to the fire to share in the scanty meal the Indians had prepared. They nibbled at the unfamiliar fare and did a lot of smiling at the unintelligible conversation going on all around them.

Most of the Indians in this tribe spoke very little besides their own native language. Several of the men arrived later and spoke in a mixture of words and signs to Diego for a few minutes. Before long, the two were on their way back to the pueblo.

The trip had taken a little longer than Diego had anticipated, and he didn't want to be benighted on the way back. He would have to drive the horses a little harder than he liked to make it back home by dark.

"What were those men saying to you back there?" she asked as she pulled her light shawl more snugly around her shoulders. The wind had developed a slight chill to it and the clouds were edging out what little was left of the fading sunlight.

"The older one was telling me that we're in for a change of weather. He thinks a great storm is coming." Diego scanned the clouds. "From the looks of it, I fear he's right. Hopefully, we'll make it back in time though." He smiled to himself and thought, "Well, young lady, you've been looking for clues all day, I think I'll hand you one!" And aloud, he quoted,

"Lo, the poor Indian! Whose untutor'd mind

Sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind;

His soul proud Science never taught to stray

Far as the solar walk or milky way;

Yet simple nature to his hope has giv'n,

Behind the cloud-topp'd hill, an humbler heav'n."

"That's beautiful! It sounds familiar, but I can't quite place it."

"Alexander Pope. One of his famous essays, I believe. But I do think it errs on the side of the Indians and science. Some of the methods they use to determine weather are in reality a part of science." He nodded toward the western sky. "Those clouds look a lot darker now than when we left. I'm not sure we're going to make it back before this storm hits after all. There is a cave not to far ahead in one of those overhangs. If we can make it, we can wait the storm out there. At least it would be dry."

The wind was becoming increasingly more intense by the minute. There was still no rain, but the thunder claps and lightening flashes in the background were terrifying the horses and it was all Diego could do to keep them on the road. He urged them on faster.

If it had been much darker, he would have missed the cave entrance altogether. It was partly hidden by a rocky overhang and some overgrowth of bushes.

Diego guided the wagon just past the entrance and climbed down. He quickly helped Victoria down and helped her climb up the few feet to the cave entrance before unhitching the horses and leading them beneath an outcropping of rock where they would have some protection. The rain had begun and by the time he returned, he found Victoria sitting inside the cave, shivering.

"Here!" He had retrieved two blankets from underneath the wagon seat and put them both around her shoulders. They were thin but reasonably dry. Diego, however, was anything but dry, and he peeled off his rain-soaked jacket.

"I didn't know it could get so cold so quickly." She had expected him to sit with her and huddle together for some warmth, but Diego seemed invigorated by the storm. He was oblivious to the cold as he returned to stand, framed, by the cave entrance. The roof of the cave was tall enough that he stood upright, his hands outstretched gripping the rock edges as if trying to restrain himself from escaping back into the exciting surge of the storm.

"I think the Indians were right about this one. This is a tremendous storm. Those clouds look awfully dark and low. It might even spawn a tornado."

Tornado! The word cut through the darkening cave like a knife thrown at her. His inflection of the word was as familiar as that used when Zorro said her own name. It was a word she and many others had heard often from the mouth of Zorro.

But she now saw only Diego before her, standing tall, his clothes drenched and clinging to his body. An accomplished artist could not have accentuated the lines of those hard muscles as well as the wetness of the cloth was doing. His body was taunt, for he was excited by the storm. As the light began to fail, he became silhouetted in black, a fine figure of a man watching the churning sky. Her heart leaped to her throat as recognition dawned in her eyes and ears at the same time. The one clear thought that kept going over and over in her mind like a repeating pennywhistle was "Diego has blue eyes."