Clouds of dust billowed around them, and Victoria was the first one to glance around at the destruction and chaos that presented itself. Once Diego followed her eyes, he sat up a little more.

"Look! Over there, Victoria," he said excitedly. "Light!"

"I could climb up there, Diego. I…I could…"

"I'll stay here. Go and fetch help."

"I can't just leave you," she protested. She glanced up at the sizeable hole in the roof, and back at him. They were both covered in dust, and she could see the exhaustion in his face. "I can't, Diego. What if you get feverish? Someone needs to take care of you."

"Fetch my father, Victoria. Fetch Hernandez. Get help," Diego insisted. "I will know that you're alright, and I will know that help is coming. The alcalde won't jump to any uncomfortable conclusions, and everything will be alright."

"Diego, I don't even have a horse. I don't even know where I am," Victoria said stubbornly. "I'm bandaging that shoulder properly, and making sure you're comfortable."

"Someone will help you, Victoria. If there is no people from the pueblo, there will be Indians in the hills. Call for help."

"The Indians sometimes don't come out."

She ripped a strip of cloth from her petticoat, and frowned at Diego. "I choose to help you, and I don't care if I have to ruin my clothes to do so."

"Not complaining, Victoria."

"You must be ill, Diego," she said with a small laugh. She bandaged it tightly and fastened it securely. She pulled the blanket over him carefully, and sighed. He grabbed both her hands and pulled her toward him. He gently kissed her mouth, and increased the intensity a little.

"We'll see each other again, Diego. I swear to you. I will bring help as soon as I can."

"I know," he sighed, releasing her hands. "You are strong and capable. You are an amazing woman, Victoria Escalante."

She smiled at him, and then turned to climb over the rocks that seemed to make a path up and out. Diego sighed. If his ankle wasn't throbbing so badly, he could follow her out. It just wasn't possible.

Zzz

Isabella Azarola was confused. She sighed, and left the chair. She paced the room for a moment, and then peered out the window. Elena de la Vega had done the same, she imagined. Both ladies had gazed out at the bleak landscape of the estate in the depths of winter. She wondered about the lady, knowing the face well from a portrait in the hall.

Elena de la Vega had a graceful countenance. A true beauty with striking eyes of blue, and the darkest most luxurious thick black hair. Her neck was graceful and attractive, and her hair had hung in ringlets around her face. The portrait seemed to portray a woman around her age, with Diego as a baby on her lap. All one could see of the baby was a sleeping face, and tiny hands, as he was wrapped in a lacy shawl.

Elena had been a celebrated beauty, a woman people still used as a standard to compare young ladies to even now in some quarters of Madrid. Isabella glanced at herself in a mirror and considered her own face.

Black shadows were under her eyes, and exhaustion was evident. Her skin had freckles and a dryness from the neglect of the months of grieving. Her face was thin. Elena's was more rounded. Elena's eyes had a spark of liveliness in their blue depths. Her eyes were blank and unemotional.

She sighed, and turned to watch her children again. They gave her joy. A hearty kick in her womb reminded her of the unborn child, she desperately hoped was a boy. Elena had never known the joy of more than one child, or the exhaustion. Elena de la Vega had never had to weep for the love of her life. Her life had been short, filled with love and excitement. She had been lucky to avoid grief and heart break.

She sighed. Why was she comparing herself to the lovely lady in the old portrait? What had put thoughts like that into her head? She needed space to think. She thought of her sister – perhaps she needed to go back there? Perhaps she should purchase a house in the city and leave this land of violence and mayhem. She could even go back home to Madrid.

She was reminded of all the dreams that Francisco had imagined. Of life away from the dangers of Europe, of life away from the smog of cities. Space for his children to flourish, and play, and grow. They weren't there to make money – that had already been made elsewhere. The estate was merely a toy in the hands of a rich man. Now her toy… Miguel's for when he was ready.

The hacienda had a perfectly good nursery. The hacienda was full of memories and pain, but also love. She needed to go home, and push her daydreams to the back of her mind. Diego would have been a doting husband, but love was something he could not give her. Alejandro would be a doting, gentle husband, but the beautiful portrait on the wall might still have his love. She wasn't sure if she loved a portrait on her own hacienda wall – the very fine one of Francisco they had commissioned for their wedding. What good was marriage without the sweetness of love to ease it? Marriage had problems of its own, without love, how could anyone bear it?

Zzz

Alejandro paused in his pacing at the cave entrance. They were shifting the rocks so slowly, they were never going to get through. Diego and his ingenuity flashed into his memory, and he stopped the workmen for a moment.

Archimedes? Was that who had invented the idea? No matter… the lever idea. It had saved the alcalde and his men, it could save Diego as well.

"Here let me show you something," he bellowed above the chatter. He found a sturdy fallen tree and positioned it as Diego had all that time before. A pivot point was what he needed. Several other men started to nod and murmur, and before long someone else had taken the task from him and was applying the pressure needed to operate the lever. Several rocks tumbled away, and that was the catalyst that started the real work progressing.

He stood back and watched the men working. Several teams decided to repeat the lever and it was working quicker than it had been. Rocks were tumbling out of where they had fallen, and it was only a matter of time before they could enter the cave and start searching properly.

Alejandro's thoughts drifted back to the scene in the hacienda's nursery. A very content lady rocking softly on the rocking chair, reading peacefully. A little boy at her feet with soldiers. It had brought back memories. Raquel was content to sit apart and build, which was unusually quiet for her. He frowned. Was the child ill or had she been terrified beyond her coping? He would have to be careful to watch over her properly.

He had felt the tremor of Isabella's fingers at his kiss, but had not stayed to truly ascertain her reaction. He felt as shy as a teenager at his first ball, and he really wished he didn't. It would make it less painful when she finally married someone else, as she would surely do eventually. It just wasn't safe for an unmarried woman to remain unprotected for long out in the wilds of California.

What he wouldn't do to have her in his arms, he thought despite himself. He shook his head to dispel the emotion, and tried to concentrate on the progress of the operation. His son's life was at stake. He needed a clear head.

Zzz

Victoria stumbled out into the sunlight with blinking eyes. She turned, and tried to look down into the cave, but the cave was much too dark to see anything. There was a scrawny tree growing nearby. She removed her treasured shawl and tied it securely to the trunk. She wasn't going to forget where to look for Diego. If she got lost and turned around, landmarks would help.

She sighed, and glanced around. Everything was flat and featureless as everything always was in and near Los Angeles. She started walking once she could see properly again, and after a few backward glances at the cave where Diego was resting, she quickened her walk.

"Help!" She shouted at the top of her lungs, cupping her hands to make the sound travel. "Someone help me!"

She hoped someone would hear her soon. She had left the supplies back with Diego. She didn't even have water to drink. It was getting quite warm in the winter sun.