The bandits rested in a cave in the hills, watching the snow fall. The fire roared keeping them warm, and drying out damp clothes. They had hurried through the snow as it fell around them.
"I wish we could have stolen some of the horses," one said, as he lay back against a rock. He daydreamed about the rumoured steeds of the de la Vegas.
"Do you think we killed that man?" A small voice said nervously.
"Quit being a nuisance, Clara."
"Besides we didn't kill him. Charles did," an older girl said.
"I'm sure he's fine," Charles said firmly.
"What is this?" Another man said in the shadows. He burst into a coughing fit, that made Clara rush to him with concern. "You're killing people now, Charlie?"
"No. I only knocked him out. He was going after the girls. He could have hurt them."
"Well, I'm sure the girls should not dress as boys and burgle haciendas. The risk would be a lot less. I never wanted this for you. Charlie, you can stop this. Think of your sisters, and of yourself. Crime is a fool's game. Especially in Los Angeles. There is Zorro to contend with."
"Someone was saying that he was dead. There is nothing to worry about. He is either dead or out of the area. I am thinking of my sisters. The de la Vega family have so many pretty things, things they don't need. Some of those trinkets could pay for your medicine, Uncle."
"I don't want medicine bought with blood money. That's what it is if you have killed that man."
"I want to go home, Charlie."
"Clara, you cry all the time. Stop it. There is nothing for us there now. Mother is dead, and father too. All we have is us, and we have to eat somehow."
"One of us could get a job in the tavern. Some of us could work with horses or as labourers. I'm not frightened of dressing as a boy. I'm as strong as Charlie and probably stronger."
"Eliza, you are a lady. A woman now. You can't do such things."
"You are not my father or my husband, Charles. If I am a woman, I will do as I please."
"Please don't argue, it scares me when you argue." Clara sat down and wept into a handkerchief.
"What I am saying is we don't have to steal, or kill or whatever. We could work like normal people," Eliza said, ignoring her sister.
"It's faster if we steal. It will take years to set ourselves up without our parents. With Uncle Bill being so sick…" Charles glanced at his uncle who was asleep again.
"He is probably dying. I am not going to have any of us end up in a mission orphanage," he added in a lower voice. Clara would be more upset and he did love his youngest sister.
Eliza sighed and held back her own tears. She was sixteen, a year older than Charles. He was tall for his age and looked around twenty, but he was still young and she should be running the family not him. As the oldest boy, he had assumed control and his sense of authority was strong. Besides, she was just a girl in a man's world, and although she hated it, Charles was seen as the head of the family. After their uncle, of course. Uncle William was so ill, and getting worse every day. He slept most of the time and was really no help at all.
She concentrated and fussed around Maggie, the twelve-year-old. Maggie was blind. She tried to stay quiet and docile, but Eliza could imagine the terror in her sister. To go through all this was bad enough, in the dark, it would be nightmarish. Maggie nursed their uncle, staying in the shadows of the cave. She only ventured out when Eliza escorted her. Maggie was very pretty and would have been the beauty of the family. Eliza decided she was built like a boy and there was no point in thinking of her own appearance these days.
To talk of balls and husbands and dresses would be too painful, let alone useless, but she had been dreaming of the social whirl since their cousin had been gossiping about it. She had been promised a ball for her seventeenth birthday, but that was not going to happen now. She knew they had other family in London, but without funds, they could not get there. With Charlie's turn towards burglary and robbery, she was terrified. Talking to him about the errors of his ways was useless. She had tried so many times.
Charlie stormed out of the cave, dwelling on his own thoughts. Eliza could imagine the problems in the young boy's mind, but if he only listened they would all be safer.
"Lizzie, I'm scared. I want Mama."
The ten-year-old was still in tears. "It's going to be alright, Clara. We will leave Charlie if we have to. This is getting dangerous."
"Lizzie," Maggie said softly. Eliza glanced up at her sister's white face. "Lizzie…"
"I'm here," Eliza said quickly, making her way up to the makeshift bed where Uncle Bill lay. Maggie grabbed for her hand, and Eliza could feel the younger girl shaking as she held Maggie's hand tightly.
"I don't think he's breathing," Maggie whispered so that Clara would be shielded from the new problem. "Oh Lizzie, I think he's dead."
Eliza paled and had to fight the dizziness of an impending faint. She missed the confidence booster of her smelling salts.
"Maybe he's just sleeping deeply?" She let go of her sister's hand after an encouraging squeeze.
She felt for breathing. She felt for a pulse. She wasn't sure what else she could do. She was almost sure that the older man was dead, but the weakest throb met her probing fingers. Eliza sighed with relief, aware that she had held her breath.
"What was that noise, Lizzie? Is someone else here?"
"Maggie, it's alright. It's just us."
"I heard something."
Eliza squeezed her sister's hand again and then dropped it to glance down at the entrance to the cave. "Clara?"
There was no answer. There was no one else in the cave.
"Clara!"
Eliza's heart almost burst out of her rib cage. Where was she? She glanced back at Maggie. There was no way she could leave Maggie here with no one. Uncle Bill would die sooner or later, and she would not leave her sister to face that alone.