The stable hands had discovered the boy early the morning after he had taken shelter in the loft. Taking pity on the young man, they rifled through their own clothes and hastily dressed the shivering boy with hand me downs. They insisted that he drink the scalding black coffee before it got cold, concerned about his blue lips.
He sat on a rickety wooden chair with his coffee, sipping hesitantly, while a few men took turns in attempting conversation. Who was he? Where had he come from? How old was he? What was he running from? How did he even get as far as the de la Vega hacienda on foot?
"Charlie," Charles said, shivering still. A kind stable hand threw a heavy horse blanket around him that smelled of saddle wax and oil and horses and straw. He shivered more as warmth started to seep into his body.
The head groom and his offsider talked in another stall, with enough distance between them and the boy that nothing could be overheard. They debated whether to tell Don Alejandro straight away or to leave it for a few days. The main house was in an uproar with the little girl and the long lost relatives surprising everyone.
"Will de la Vega be angry if we leave it though?"
"Alejandro de la Vega has so much on his mind, this on top would be just another thing to worry about. We can take care of the boy for a few days. Then we will tell them. How important is another runaway waif anyway?"
"I guess so. But isn't Don Diego going to be in charge for a few days?"
"He'll have so much on his plate with the ranch that anything else will be too much."
"You like this kid, Pablo."
"He has a bit of spirit," Pablo said, with a sigh. "I need a new stableboy."
"Yes well, you have to face the consequences, not me. They may be some this time."
Pablo shrugged. "Don Alejandro is quick to anger, and quick to forgive. Don Diego is more reasonable in the first place, and you can reason with him. Consequences will be short lived and minor."
"I have to exercise Felicia, she has been cooped up too long," the offsider said. "I hope you know what you are doing?" He left, heading to where a fine black mare shifted impatiently in her stall.
"Always."
Charles had a steep learning curve to manage that day. Sweeping manure out of the stalls wasn't something he had done before, but he performed it to the best of his ability. He was instructed and set to work cleaning the riding tack, rubbing the leather with soap and buffing it to a high shine. Several saddles later and he was thoroughly warm and slightly exhausted.
He was sent to rest, with blankets to keep him warm, and later had a warm soup for lunch. The men took pity on him, as they had noticed the smooth hands and clean fingernails. The boy was obviously a gentleman's son, and unused to physical exercise. He must be a runaway from a fine home.
Pablo pondered his previous decision and decided to tell the de la Vegas in the morning. This was too important to leave too long. Don Alejandro would soon be able to find the boy's family, and that was the right thing to do.
He smiled, realising that half a day's work out of the boy might make a difference in the young man's life. Gentlemen's sons seemed to be born a trifle self centred. Although Don Diego had been interested at a very young age in learning the real work behind caring for his family's horses.
Zzz
The next day, Charles woke even earlier than the stablehands, and wondered if he should go to the pueblo and attempt to steal the alcalde's reward money. At least he could have a look at the buildings. His sisters depended on him to stay safe. He had to try. How hard could it be? He had overheard several conversations talking about the incompetence of the local garrison, staying quiet in his corner of the stables. He was smart and capable.
He slipped out, but not before taking a small pony only just capable of being ridden. It would return to the stable when he dismounted, so he didn't feel too guilty. It was borrowing not stealing. He rode bareback well, and didn't bother with riding tack, except the bridle. It would have woken everyone else up. He didn't have time to be stopped now.
The little horse was very hardy and fast. Within an hour, he was in the outskirts of the pueblo. He dismounted, and sent the pony home. With a bit of luck the pony wouldn't even have been missed. How he would explain the fact that the pony was outside the stable he didn't even consider.
The pueblo was waking up, the townspeople going about their chores early to get them out of the way so they could stay inside in front of their fires for the rest of the day. A few curious glances were cast his way. He made his way to the tavern, aware of an empty stomach. Maybe the tavern keeper could feed him for a few chores? His coins had lasted only a day, as his escape with his siblings had been unexpected.
Victoria was sweeping the floor, getting the tavern ready for her first customers of the day. She startled as the boy entered the main room. He was a mess. His clothes were finely made, but had torn and stained and bits of straw still clung in his hair.
"What has happened to you, boy?" She said, leaning her broom handle against the nearest support pole. "You look like you could do with a warm bath and a decent sleep."
"I'm fine," Charles said with a shrug of young shoulders. "Can I do some chores for a few bites of food? I'm a hard worker."
Victoria glanced at his hands. Obviously unused to hard work, they were dirty, with several broken fingernails. He had worked hard lately, but not as a rule. She remembered the lost children, and decided that this was the boy. Charles.
Although he was very reluctant to ask for help. As were most of the men in her experience. She could play his game for a while. Diego could help her with him later.