Chapter 3

Diego's eyes blinked open again, but they were unfocused and disoriented. As he gradually began to focus on his father's face, Alejandro breathed a sigh of relief.

"Por favor, Diego. Please lie still. You're badly injured, and you've lost a lot of blood.The bleeding has finally stopped, but if you move around, it'll start up again."

Alejandro fought to hold back his tears as he watched the awareness of what had to be terrible pain building in Diego's gaze. He watched Diego's glance flicker around the room, taking in his surroundings, frowning as he tried to remember what had brought them here. His ragged breathing quickened, and his visual search became more frantic.

"Shhhh, Diego. Just relax. You're safe for now. Please stay still." At the sound of Victoria's voice, the panic that had begun to show in Diego's face immediately disappeared. He fixed his eyes on Victoria, and Alejandro could feel some of the tension leave his son's shoulders.

"Vi…Victoria? Are…are you…ok?" O Dios, he sounds so weak. He's barely even whispering.

Victoria's tearful reply wasn't a whole lot louder than Diego's question, but the words tumbled out of her mouth so quickly Alejandro could barely follow them.

"I'm fine, Diego. So is your father. Oh, Diego, I'm so sorry. This would never have happened to you if Ramiro wasn't so certain I know who Zorro is. I tried to make him believe me, but he won't! I don't know, Diego. I swear I don't know. If I did, I would have told him. I never would have let this go on so long!"

Even through all of the pain showing in Diego's face, Alejandro could see subtle changes of expression as Victoria kept speaking. Surprise. Chagrin. A hint of the same anger he thought he'd seen when Diego had first regained consciousness in the cabin. And then Alejandro's mouth fell open as he watched his son shakily reach up with one discolored, swollen hand, and attempt to wipe the tears from Victoria's cheek. The expression on his face, obvious both to Victoria and to a stunned Alejandro, was one of pure, undeniable adoration.

"Don't be sorry, Querida." Diego's words were strained, disjointed, and his voice was fading even as he spoke. "Even if you had been able to give Ramiro Zorro's identity, it wouldn't have made any difference. Trust me. It would have just made matters worse, not better."

Diego's voice faded out completely on the last words, his eyes closed, and his hand dropped limply back onto the blanket. Alejandro and Victoria stared at each other. Victoria was sobbing uncontrollably. Alejandro was just stunned.

He reached across Diego and took Victoria's hand in his. He spoke softly, wonderingly, to Victoria.

"I think, my dear, I finally understand why Diego has resisted my urgings for him to marry for all this time."

Of all the things Diego could have done that would surprise me, this one takes the cake! All the times I've nagged him about getting married and giving me grandbabies! All of the times I've pushed some pretty young thing at him, trying to get him to at least show an interest in courting a girl! How could I have missed seeing this? Has he been in love with Victoria all along? Why has he never said anything? Never given any indication that he felt anything more for her than the friendship they've had since they were children?

There was very little more they could do for Diego with the little they had to work with. They took turns sponging his face and trying to dribble a little water between his chapped lips. Over the next hour or so, they could tell he was beginning to develop a fever. His condition wasn't likely to improve as long as that bullet remained in his shoulder, and Ramiro just laughed in their faces when Victoria begged for a sharp knife so they could try to remove it. Por favor, Dios. Don't let my son get blood poisoning from this.

Alejandro had explored the small room while Victoria was sitting with Diego. There was nothing they could conceivably use to help them escape. The two windows in the lean-to were large enough to let in light, but small enough that no one larger than a three-year-old child could possibly have climbed through them. There was no way to dig under the wall, even though the floor was dirt. It was packed so hard it might as well have been rock. Besides, they had nothing to dig with.

All they could do was to pray for a rescuer. He went back and sat on the floor next to Diego. Victoria got up for a moment to stretch her legs.

Just then, Diego moaned again. His eyelids fluttered and finally opened. His blue eyes, normally so full of life, were dulled by pain and fever, but they fixed on Alejandro with an intensity that he found startling.

"F-father? How-how long have I been out?"

His voice was little more than a hoarse croak. Alejandro quickly slipped one hand under Diego's head and gently raised it just a bit. He dipped his other hand into the bucket of water next to him, and held his hand to Diego's mouth so Diego could drink. Damn Ramiro. He couldn't even give us a cup or a dipper in the bucket.

Even that slight movement caused Diego to gasp in pain, and his hand instinctively groped for the nearest object, which happened to be his father's forearm. Diego's grip tightened convulsively in reaction to the pain, and Alejandro thought for a moment his wrist was going to snap. He'd never realized just how strong Diego was before.

"Shhhh. Don't try to talk, Diego. Stay quiet. You've been out most of the afternoon. You've had us pretty scared."

"Can't….I…can't think ...straight." O, Son. Right now, I'm just thankful you can think at all!

"Don't worry about it, Diego. Just rest. I don't think they're going to bother us any more tonight."

"You…you need to…look for…a way out of here."

"I've already looked, son. I'm afraid Ramiro has a pretty good setup here. There's no way we're getting out of this room without help."

Diego closed his eyes, but his head moved restlessly against his father's supportive hand. Alejandro could feel his body becoming tense.

"Help me up, please." Diego was white as a sheet, and there was no strength at all in his attempt to raise his head off Alejandro's hand. He hadn't moved two inches before his head fell back down. Perspiration was streaming from his ashen face. His good hand grabbed his side. Not that his hand looked that good, with the rope burns and bruising around his wrist. Cradling his broken ribs from the movement, and the sudden onset of pain-induced nausea, he fought the almost overwhelming urge to vomit. He lost the battle.

"Mierda! Diego, I told you not to move!"

Alejandro and Victoria eased Diego onto his side as quickly and gently as they could, and held him until the heaving stopped. With each spasm, Alejandro knew that Diego's broken ribs were grinding together, stabbing farther into his side, increasing the risk of a punctured lung. He could feel Diego shuddering from the pain.

By the time the nausea subsided, Diego was drenched with sweat, and hadn't even the strength to groan. While Victoria cleaned up the mess the best she could, Alejandro just sat there, holding Diego half in his lap. The slight elevation seemed to ease his breathing a little, but it was still several minutes before Diego's eyes opened again.

"Diego, whatever you do, do not try to move again! What were you thinking of?"

Alejandro hadn't thought it possible for Diego's voice to sound any weaker, but it did. He had to strain to even understand what his son was saying.

"I...was…thinking…of finding a way…out of here. I'm sorry...I'm ...I'm afraid…I'm not going to be able to help."

"Oh, Diego! What did you…." But Diego had passed out again.

One of Ramiro's men finally brought them a bucket of clean water. They sponged Diego's face off again. Even his bandages were soaked with sweat after that bout of nausea, and there was fresh blood showing again around the bullet wound. Not a lot more, but Diego couldn't afford to lose it, anyway.

The next time Diego woke up, he found Victoria beside him, her hand on his cheek, turning his face so she was the first thing he saw. His father was still sitting behind him, a human pillow, and his strong hands were holding Diego's shoulders from behind, so Diego couldn't try to move again.

"Okay, you two…. I get the message…. I promise I'll…stay put this time." His voice was still less than a whisper, the words interspersed by shallow, gasping breaths; but he was coherent. One corner of his mouth even tried to twitch into a hint of a very sheepish smile, but the effect wasn't exactly successful when the twitch turned into a pained wince as his breath caught from the effort of speaking.

"You'd better stay put!" Alejandro could hear the concerned affection in Victoria's voice as she threatened Diego.

"Diego?" Alejandro got his son's attention. "Do not try to talk any more right now. Save your strength. Just listen to me. I'll explain everything you need to know right now.

"We are not going to get out of here by ourselves. Even if we could find a way out, we couldn't take it. You're in no condition to be moved. You've already proven that. Besides, there is no way. I've already checked out this room, and there are too many men in the next room for us to be able to do anything against them.

"But it's a long way from being hopeless, Son." Alejandro gave Diego the one calming piece of knowledge he had about the situation. If anything would let his son relax and rest without worrying so much, this should do it.

"When we didn't arrive at the vineyard by lunch time, the friars would have been concerned. They would have sent word back to Los Angeles that we never arrived." He smiled reassuringly at Diego. "By now, Zorro must know that we're missing. You know perfectly well he'll move heaven and earth to find Victoria and keep her safe. Knowing Zorro, he'll be here within a few hours. All we have to do is hold on until he arrives."

"That's right, Diego," Victoria agreed. "Zorro will never stop until he finds us. You know that. By this time tomorrow, Ramiro and his gang will be wishing they'd never even considered coming back to Los Angeles. You just wait and see!"

Never in a million years would either Alejandro or Victoria have anticipated the result their confident assurance of Zorro's anticipated rescue would have on the wounded man lying in front of them.