Chapter 3
Diego was sitting at her bedside when Victoria finally awakened. The book he had held in his hands had slipped to the floor and his head was forward, his chin resting upon his chest. His dark hair, slightly disheveled, had fallen down over his forehead and was shading his eyes from her, though she knew them to be closed. He had fallen asleep sitting up in the chair, waiting by her sickbed.
She lay there watching him, wondering at the words he had spoken in the kitchen. She had known he cared for her, but she had no idea there was any feeling of real love on his part. It was sad. She was promised to Zorro and here was a caballero willing to profess his feelings for her. One man she could have today, and one man she might possibly never be able to have as her own. I wonder what he thought when I didn't say anything in reply.
"Diego?" She called his name softly and saw his head rise and his eyelids flutter open quickly. He was instantly awake, much to her surprise, and his clear eyes looked back at her.
"Victoria? You're awake?" He leaned closer to the bed, smiling sweetly and taking her hand.
"How long have you…" she whispered, surprised at the slight huskiness in her own voice.
"All afternoon." He looked toward the window where dawn was creeping into the early morning skies. "All night, apparently. But don't worry. Your reputation is safe." He motioned with his thumb toward the foot of her bed.
"What?" Victoria asked and looked to the spot he'd indicated. There sat Señora Sanchez, asleep in the comfortable chair beside the dressing table, her great bulk barely fitting into the seat.
"But why is she…" Victoria had tried to rise and her head had swum. Sinking back among the pillows, she was confused as to why the older woman was in her bedroom.
"Well, with all the discussions about the señoritas coming from Spain needing dueñas to protect their reputations, I felt I should be more careful regarding you as well." He smiled wickedly down at her. "You had better get used to it."
In the days that followed, though she was confined to her bed from the lingering effects of the fever, she heard about the happenings in the tavern when she had collapsed. Now Diego's insistence on a dueña being present at all times when he was in her bedroom made more sense. He obviously had taken care of the problem in his own way. She smiled wryly at the practicality of it all.
It had taken Zorro a few days to show up and take care of the situation with Don Emilio and the alcalde in his own way. But when he did make his appearance, the story made the rounds quickly. The proof of it took a few days more, when the De Soto finally made his first appearance in the plaza.
His face was a mass of fading blues and purples. His left eye was swollen shut and he walked with a definite limp. He huffed proudly into the tavern, ignoring all the stares and snickers, and boldly ordered his favorite wine. Wishing there was any other place than this miserable tavern in this miserable pueblo, he sat there stoically, drinking alone, amid a wash of whispered gossip and outright laughter.
Don Emilio stopped beside his table momentarily and gave him a triumphant, smirking smile and then joined his own companions at a nearby table.
The tavern was at its busiest. With Señorita Escalante still unable to return to work, the tavern girls were hard pressed to keep up with it all. So when the sounds of the first stage filtered in from the plaza and the entire tavern emptied out into the street, the girls heaved a collective sigh of relief and went to the doorway to watch the excitement from there.
The stage doors opened and eight lovely young señoritas stepped gracefully, one by one, down onto the hard packed dirt. Their eyes were bright and hopeful and they looked eagerly around at the great gathering of men who stood, hats in hands, respectfully nodding their greetings.
Don Alberto climbed down from the seat above and shepherded the girls down the street toward the mission. It had been decided that for the first few days, the girls would be housed there. The dormitory was still being furnished and the work was being hurriedly completed now that the arrivals had begun, but, for now, the señoritas would be much more comfortable in the rooms of the mission.
Three more stages arrived shortly thereafter, each one containing another group of señoritas. The men took note of the various sizes and shapes, ages and colorings, of them all. There was a señorita for any man's taste.
Far from being a bevy of absolutely gorgeous women, these señoritas were very, very real. The men that were fascinated with each slender ankle they glimpsed stepping down for the first time in their very own pueblo had already thought very seriously about the advent of these women. They wanted wives, women to share their lives, to work beside them for a better life. They didn't want fluffy, fragile, dainty little señoritas that demanded frills and high-toned entertainment. This was not the place for that kind of women.
As they watched stage after stage relinquish its passengers, the men were certain that Don Alberto and Don Sebastian had done their jobs very well. These women would do nicely.
Diego watched from Victoria's window. He, too, was satisfied with what he saw and he relayed the information on to Victoria, still lying in her bed, feeling fairly miserable.
"Are they pretty?" she asked, holding her handkerchief to her mouth.
"Well, yes, they are all pretty," he conceded. "Some are perhaps prettier than others. But I'd say that, so far, our two betting caballeros have done a nice job. None of them look like they are ready to turn and run back to Spain, at any rate." He came back to her bedside smiling, but the smile faded when he saw her face. "What's wrong, Victoria? Do you need some more of that medicine?" He reached for the bottle on the bedside table.
"No, no. I don't need any more. I need to see them." She shifted the covers away and started to get out of bed.
"Oh, no you don't. Doctor Hernandez says you'll be staying in bed for another few days. It is rest you need. That fever was no small illness, Victoria." He pulled the covers up again firmly, letting his slight embarrassment show. He had seen her often in her nightdress as Zorro, but somehow, it was a totally different thing for her to be so minimally dressed in his presence as Diego. It certainly was when a very disapproving dueña glared at him from the corner whenever he got too close to that bed. "I don't think you've beaten it yet."
"But Diego!"
"Besides, it could even be contagious. You never know."
"If it's contagious, then you shouldn't be here," she sulked. "Diego, I need to see them!"
"You'll see them all later. They are going to be here, hopefully, a long time. They will settle here, marry, and you will make friends with many of them. This is going to be a good thing for you, Victoria. You have never really had many close women friends, have you?"
"No, but Diego, do any of them look like they…" She searched for the right words. Oh, why did she sound so desperate, even in her own mind! "Do they look like…"
"Do they look like what?" Diego was nonplussed. "What are you asking?"
She gripped the covers tightly with both hands. Of all times to be sick in bed with a fever! "Would any of them be the kind of girl who would be attractive to Zorro?" There! She'd said it.
Diego heaved a heavy sigh and looked down at his boots. "I am sure Zorro would agree with me. They are all very nice looking, at least, from what I can see from up here. But I am sure you have nothing to worry about."
"Oh, Diego, don't be that way," she said, mildly irritated with him. She was already sure these women were going to be stunning beauties. That was all she needed — competition. They were all going to set their caps for Zorro and she would be pushed aside, forgotten and alone. She was going to die an old maid!
"What way?" His eyes glanced over at Señora Sanchez, who was busy with her needlework. Her eyes were cast downwards at her handiwork, but somehow, he was sure she was listening with relish to every single word.
"You know, jealous! After what you said in the kitchen the other day, I don't know —"
He dragged his chair a bit closer to the bed and sat down once more. "What I said in the kitchen?"
"Yes, you know." But the look on his face was one of total bewilderment. "You know," she said pointedly. Still, Diego looked at her as if he did not understand at all. "Gold? Prospecting for silver?"
"Victoria, I am not sure I —"
"Oh, be that way then. You've always been jealous of my relationship with Zorro!"
"I cannot be jealous of Zorro," he said just a shade too indignantly and Victoria erupted in a bubbling laughter.
"Oh, yes you are, and you always have been!" She heard the words and the mean sound to them, and immediately she regretted them. But as she looked over at Diego, he was picking up his book from the floor and there was absolutely no reaction on his part. "Diego?"
"Yes, Victoria?" He smoothed the pages of the book before closing it carefully, his long fingers almost caressing the leather binding.
His hands held her attention, and that same feeling of strangeness came over her again. She saw the strong hands lay the book carefully on the table and then reach out to her. Once again, she wondered if the words had been said aloud. This time it was her own words. How strange! Her eyelids flickered closed as she fought to stay conscious so she could say, "Diego, I'm sorry."
"Señora Sanchez, I am going to get Doctor Hernandez. I think Victoria…" But that was all Victoria heard before her world went white once more.