Victoria packed the large picnic baskets with as many good things as she could cram into the wicker baskets. Diego's favourites had somehow been the majority of the dishes she had prepared, although she hadn't consciously planned for it. She included tamales and a large flan as well. Apples and oranges, and a bottle of lemonade completed the feast.

She brushed flour off her hands, with a sigh.

Wondering, not for the first time, who Diego's raven haired beauty was, she frowned. It could be almost anyone. Most women in Los Angeles had dark hair - Spanish women normally did.

zzz

She should have asked him the colour of her eyes – but then he would have said, brown or something mundane and boring. Brown as chestnuts in winter, perhaps? Brown as an autumn leaf? Brown was definitely not a romantic colour like blue or green, she mused. Brown like hers, all muddy and boring.

Diego had always been a day dreamer, and it hadn't eased since he became a man. She hoped the lady was interested in books… although poetry was always delightful. Poems of love and courage always had interested her.

Pilar glanced at her with curiosity.

"You should change, Victoria. You are going out with a caballero."

"Don Diego is not a normal caballero," she murmured.

Nevertheless, she went upstairs and changed into her very best clothes. She ran a brush through curls black as a crow's wing, and giggled a little at herself in her mirror. She was hardly a beauty. She dashed water onto her face all the same, and pinched her cheeks a little, to redden them prettily. She didn't think Diego would care that she had no rouge or other makeup. It was tacky anyway, and Diego was not a tacky man.

She grabbed the red shawl that Diego had bought her. It was her treasure. She wore it only to church, over her unruly curls, but Diego would like to see her in it. She arranged it on her shoulders, marvelling at its softness and light warmth.

She brushed at her boots a little. They were not lady's boots, she realised with a frown. Then she laughed. Diego had never cared before. Why would he even notice her shoes? She was not his lady. He would have no thought to her at all, except friendship. What was she thinking?

She brushed them gently, to attempt to clean them, and sighed. Why was she so excited to go on this picnic? Why was her heart fluttering as if Zorro had asked her to come? She had no idea. Perhaps she just needed a sleep, or a break from the tavern.

Going downstairs, she went outside to wait on the patio. The warmth of the winter sun was nice today. No clouds threatened to spoil their day.

She saw Destara glance at her and glance quickly away. He had paused in the doorway of the garrison, and he tensed, swinging the doors shut as she watched him. He seemed afraid of her now. He had kept his distance the last couple of days.

The sound of an approaching buggy distracted her from her thoughts and ponderings. She glanced up and noticed Diego driving the buggy, with Felipe and Stefano riding by the side almost as outriders would.

"Good morning, Victoria. Are you ready?"

"The baskets are in the kitchen, Diego. I'll just get them."

"You'll do no such thing, Victoria," Diego said gently. "Felipe, Stefano…"

The boys dismounted and went into the kitchen to get the baskets.

"I could have carried them myself, Diego. I am hardly a weakling."

"You shouldn't have to, when we have such strong young men to assist you, Senorita," Diego said, as the teenagers returned. They both smiled as they realised Diego had just praised them for their strength.

"Well, yes. They are very strong young caballeros, I must admit," she said with a smile. Diego stepped down from the buggy and helped her up.

She sat down next to Isabella, who smiled a little tiredly, as she attempted to keep Miguel from diving head first out of the buggy onto the road, as Diego began to drive again.

"What did I say, young man?" Diego said, not even turning his head.

Miguel sat abruptly on his bottom, and glanced down. "I'm sorry, Don Diego."

"No more trouble from you, Senor," Diego said firmly. "I keep my word. I hope you do as well."

"Yes, Don Diego," he said softly. "I'm really sorry."

Diego shot him a half glance, and smiled at the little boy. "You are a big boy now, Miguel. Big boys do not alarm their mothers in such a way."

Victoria felt an insane urge to giggle and fought it with difficulty. The way Diego had phrased it had amused her in an absurd way. His eyes met hers before they concentrated on the road ahead. There was a spark of comradeship in the blue depths, and she wondered if he had said it that way on purpose.

How were big boys supposed to alarm their mothers? She frowned, and glanced down, trying to quell her urge to laugh.

"How is the tavern these days, Victoria?" Isabella asked gently.

"Doing very nicely," she answered. There had been no real gossip. She wondered why.

"How goes your pregnancy?"

"I am very tired these days, Victoria. It seems to be progressing as usual, but it seems to take forever for the baby to get here," she sighed.

"From what I hear, they come when they come," Diego said, catching the conversation. "Doctors must have a rough estimate that they go by though. Midwives seem to know what they are talking about…"

"Most of them. Some of them as charlatans, Diego. My friend died in childbirth. The midwife had been drinking and was of no help when the baby actually arrived. Her baby lived, but unfortunately she did not."

Diego nodded thoughtfully. Many ladies did die in childbirth. "These things do happen. I suppose it is unavoidable at times."

"I for one would like someone to work out why these things happen so often," Victoria said. "Maybe there is a reason."

"Childbirth is a hard thing, Victoria. With great joy comes great risks at times," Isabella said softly. She rubbed her belly a little. "Put your hand here, Victoria, and you will feel little Francisco kick."

Victoria smiled, and tentatively laid a hand where she was instructed. She waited for a few moments, and then there was a soft prod at her hand, just as if a baby had kicked her. She glanced at the other lady with an awed smile.

"Consider having that inside you for a few months, Victoria," Isabella whispered, coming closer to her companion. "It can be very exhausting."

Victoria giggled, and glanced at Diego. It was hardly suitable talk for a caballero to overhear.

"What are you ladies giggling at?" Diego said with laughter in his voice.

"Nothing that is suitable for your ears, Senor," Isabella said firmly.

"We are almost there, ladies," Diego said in reply, ignoring the comment as required. "I hope the day is not overtiring you, Isabella?"

"This is delightful, Diego. It's such beautiful weather, and it's so warm today."

Zzz

The men spread out the picnic blankets, and instructed the ladies to rest in the shade, as they went to get the baskets.

"Diego," Isabella began. "There may be flowers in the woods. I'd like to pick some. Maybe Victoria and Raquel would like to come with me. Could we leave Miguel with you?"

Diego glanced up from where he had been organising the picnic. He had been removing some of the dishes from the baskets, and arranging them on the blanket.

"Well," he said thoughtfully. "Don't go too far."

Miguel glanced at his mother, and held up his hands. "Can't I come?"

"Diego is your friend, Miguel."

"I want to pick you some flowers, Mama," Miguel said softly.

Diego shrugged, as Isabella glanced at him. "Come on then, my little caballero," she murmured with a smile.

"Don't lift him, Isabella," Diego warned, as she paused.

"Yes, sir," she replied, and made Diego smile. Miguel glanced at him and then at his mother.

"Mama is too tired today, Miguel. Another time, my sweet," she answered his unasked question.

He pouted for a moment, and then Victoria reached down and lifted him easily. He was a little surprised, but he had got what he had wanted, sort of.

Diego laughed softly. "Victoria, the boy is four…"

"Yes. Still a baby," she replied, as she followed Isabella into the trees.

Diego sighed and shook his head slowly with a smile.

Zzz

Diego set everything out, and went to fetch the ladies. The woods sparse as they were, were eerily silent, and he felt anxious about their safety almost immediately.

He thought about returning to the buggy and fetching the pistol that his father always insisted on having under the seat. He could quickly ready it and be armed against a threat. He shook his head. He needed to stop thinking that threats lay under every bush, and every rock. They didn't. Life was normally peaceful, unless he was dressed as Zorro.

"Isabella! Victoria!" He called out. He strode through to a small glade. A small area covered in flowers greeted his eyes. Seeking for any tracks, his eyes made out a discarded bouquet of flowers, and a dropped bonnet. Isabella's bonnet.

He scanned the area. He listened intently. Diego's great hearing hardly ever failed him. How could something have happened to the ladies? They had never been out of earshot.

He heard the sniffling after a few moments. He turned, and scanned the area again. "Miguel?"

He heard the rustling of the leaves in a nearby tree, and he glanced up.

"I can't get down, Don Diego," he sniffed softly.

Diego smiled a little, and held out his arms. "Take a jump, Miguel. I'll catch you."

The little boy shook his head, but Diego stood there, smiling confidently, until the four year old gained the courage to obey. Diego caught him easily.

"What were you doing up there, little one?"

"I wanted to be a big boy. Big boys climb trees, don't they?"

"Yes, they do. Normally they are big enough to get down on their own," he said, as he placed the young child on the ground. "Where is your mother?"

"The naughty men took her," Miguel murmured. "She went like this," he paused, laying a finger on his lips. "That means be quiet. So I was good and was quiet."

"Naughty men?"

"They were naughty… They tied Mama up, but she was very brave and didn't cry. Victoria was going to yell, but they didn't like that. They smacked her."

"Did they now?" Diego said softly.

"Are you going to save them?"

"I suppose I'll have to," Diego said softly. "When did this happen?"

Miguel shrugged. A young child's concept of time was not an accurate one anyway, Diego thought with a frown. He swung Miguel up on his tall shoulders, and carried him back to the picnic blanket.