Surprise! Happy Wednesday, everyone!

I figured after the intensity of the last chapter, another update might be necessary this week. After all, Diego and Olivia have a great deal to discuss, now.

Hope you enjoy!

Linny

Chapter Twenty-Three

He couldn't be certain how long they'd been riding. It had been miles and nothing but silence between them as they focused on putting some distance between them and that hellish nightmare of a cabin. They were still being followed. There was no doubt in his mind. They had to keep moving.

But to where? It was far too dark out for Diego to determine just where they were. He had been unconscious on the way out and they hadn't passed a single road sign to give him any indication of where they had been taken to.

Even the sky would be of little help. There was no moon and the clouds were hiding whatever stars they might have seen.

Pulling back on the reins of the horse, he turned in his saddle, searching the darkness for a sign of hope. All he could see what pitch black silhouettes dancing in the shadows. It would be different if he was riding Tornado. He would know how to get back home or even to the pueblo.

"What is it?" Olivia questioned, speaking up for the first time since they had departed from the cabaña.

"How long did it take to get to the cabin?" he asked, turning the other way in his saddle and squinting into the darkness.

She shook her head. "I don't know. It felt like forever."

He muttered a curse under his breath. "It is far too dangerous for us to remain on the road. If we are still being followed then there is the chance that they might find us."

She glanced around at the dusty valley. "Where are we?"

He shook his head. "I'm not certain. I saw no road signs to indicate which direction we're heading in."

"So, what do we do?"

He sighed with exasperation at himself. They were in this predicament because he had let his guard down and allowed those men to get the better of him. "I suppose we keep moving until we come upon something."

"The horses won't last very long." She ran her palm down her mount's neck in a soothing gesture.

"I know, but it's the only thing I can..." he drifted off as he heard a familiar sound in the distance.

Olivia noticed his shift in demeanor. "What do you hear?"

He urged his steed in the direction of the sound before taking out his pocket watch. "Bells," he said as he again squinted into the darkness. He couldn't read the face clearly, but he could faintly see the watch's arms in the dim light. The bells were striking the hour. "It is the mission."

"Can you tell which direction we should go?" She spun her horse around but didn't seem to be able to hear where the sound was coming from.

Diego continued to listen. The sound seemed to be echoing off of the canyon walls. But the fact that he could hear the bells told him that they were close to El Camino Real. "This way," he pointed in the direction he believed the bells to be coming from. "Follow me."

They followed the sound of the bells for miles until they came upon the mission of San Gabriel. The lanterns upon the walls were guiding them to a safe place. The grounds were silent and virtually deserted.

A lone Indian patrolled the grounds, standing at attention as the two riders approached.

"We need assistance," Diego informed him. "We require a safe place for the night. Please, fetch Padre Felipe and bring him to us immediately."

"Sí, patrón," the man replied and quickly disappeared into the darkness.

Diego dismounted and tied his mount to the hitching post. Olivia followed his lead, completely silent. They had barely spoken since leaving the cabaña. It had been a few sparse words that had mainly to do with directions and that had been it.

They wanted to talk about what had happened. The tension of it was thick in the air between them, but Diego had wanted to find a safe place where they wouldn't have to continuously look over their shoulders first. Then they would talk.

He glanced toward her, taking in the sight of her torn and bloodied blouse and dirty skirt. It would make the Padre ask too many questions, he realized. Quickly, he unbuttoned his chequeta and took it off. "Here." He held it out for her to take.

She eyed it with confusion, then looked to him. "What are you doing?"

"The state of your clothes will arise suspicion. The fewer questions asked, the better. Trust me."

She glanced down at her torn collar and the filth that covered her shirt before nodding in agreement. "Okay." She took the jacket and quickly put it on. "What are we going to tell the Padre?"

"As little as possible. But we should tell the truth. He'll know if we're lying." As a boy, Diego had been caught in one too many lies by the Padre. It had always been difficult to hide the truth from the old monk. "How are you holding up?"

She shrugged as she wrapped his jacket tighter around her torso. He was pleased that she seemed to be finding some comfort in it. "As well as one can be when someone wants to kill them," she replied, cynically.

"Yes, well, something tells me this wasn't the first time it's happened." He wasn't judging and he hoped his voice conveyed that. If anyone knew about people wanting to kill them, he did. Far too many people had gone after his head when he wore the mask. He imagined it was the same with her.

She snorted sarcastically and rolled her eyes. "I wish I could say it was." She distracted herself with the horse she'd borrowed and rubbed at the animal's snout. "I suppose you have quite a few questions."

"That would be an understatement," he chuckled. "And I believe you have a few for me as well."

She smirked up at him—the first time he'd seen her do that in hours—and shrugged. "Not as many as you might think."

Her response surprised him, but it felt good to see the woman he'd gotten to know over these last few weeks again. "Well, we can discuss it once we get settled. Padre Felipe is a good friend and will help us."

She only nodded in response as the Indian returned, an older man in a dressing gown carrying a lantern followed behind him.

"Diego, what is the matter, my boy?" Padre Felipe glanced between the man he knew and the woman beside him. He seemed to study her for a moment. He returned his gaze to Diego, his eyes filled with an expression Diego had seen once before when he'd encountered Monastario. It was like the monk was silently judging him.

"We were attacked and taken hostage, Padre. We need a place to rest or fresh horses so we can return to the pueblo to alert the Comandante," Diego calmly explained, knowing his old friend would understand once he explained.

"Gracious, dear boy. How ever did you escape?" The Padre lifted the lantern a bit higher and examined the two of them a bit closer.

Diego's lip throbbed in response to his scrutiny. It was swollen from where he'd gotten pistol-whipped. He was also filthy from fighting and riding over the dusty hills. Olivia's appearance was not much better. Her hair was completely disheveled; most of it having come out of her braid. There even seemed to be a bruise forming along her jaw, though Diego couldn't remember seeing one of their captors hit her.

"Zorro," she chimed in when it took him too long to reply. She glanced in his direction with a knowing gleam in her eyes before continuing. "Zorro rescued us and then rode away to distract the bandidos." It was a half-truth and it seemed to work.

"Well, thank the Santos for Zorro," Padre Felipe looked to the heavens in a thoughtful prayer before returning his attention to the young people in front of him. "Come inside, both of you. While Zorro may have distracted your attackers, it will still be better if you remain in my care while I send one of my Indians to fetch the Capitán."

Diego glanced at Olivia to gauge her reaction. She seemed reluctant to agree at first, but logic seemed to win her over. "We are grateful, Padre," she told him.

"Mateo, saddle a horse and ride into the pueblo. Fetch the Comandante as fast as you can," the Padre instructed.

"Sí, Padre," the Indian complied, hurrying to the stables on swift feet.

"Follow me, Diego. I will direct you to a nice warm fire and get some wine to warm your weary bones."

"Gracias, Padre."

As they moved through the mission corridors, the Padre glanced in Olivia's direction, a genial smile gracing his features. "You must be the young señorita I have heard so much about."

"I am not certain if that is a good thing or a bad thing," she countered in her familiar teasing manner. Diego had come to know it as a kind of defense mechanism for her. It didn't make it any less endearing, though.

"I suppose it depends on who you ask," the monk countered in the same manner, his gaze turning in Diego's direction momentarily before returning to her.

With the light of the lantern currently being the only light source, it was difficult to see clearly, but Diego could swear he saw a pink tinge creeping up the shell of her ear.

"From what I understand, you are quite remarkable."

"Believe me, there isn't much that is special about me."

Diego didn't believe that, but he didn't want to say it because he wasn't certain how she would receive the compliment from him after what they had just been through. He knew there was something special about her. How many women could have held their own against a band of thieves like she had? Not too many, he would wager.

"It only takes one thing to make a person special, my dear. Or, at least, one person to show you just how special you are."

She seemed taken aback by his words and Diego had to wonder how many people in her life had spoken to her like that. He supposed if they were anything like her horrible aunt, then probably very few.

"I will have to remember that."

"Here we are," the monk stated as he opened the door to a room and ushered them inside.

A fire was already burning strong in the fireplace and a bowl of fresh water and towels had been set out. It seemed that the Padre had anticipated their plight and had arranged all of this for them.

"I will have someone fetch you some wine and something to eat while you wait. I will also see if I can locate a fresh blusa (1) from our donations for you, señorita." So the jacket hadn't been enough and the Padre had seen her torn collar. Had he noticed the patches of blood as well? If he did, he didn't mention it. Thankfully. That was a story neither of them wanted to get into with him, that was for certain.

"Gracias, but that isn't necessary."

"Nonsense. And it is no trouble."

She tried to continue to argue, but he just smiled at her as he slipped out of the room.

"Is he always like this?" she questioned, her brows furrowed in bemusement.

Diego chuckled as he settled down on the sofa next to the fireplace. The night was cool and Diego hadn't realized just how cold he'd become until his body had given an involuntary shiver. He embraced the heat and let it wash over him. "There is no use arguing. Padre Felipe usually is set in his ways and leaves little room for argument."

"You don't say?" She approached the fireplace, enjoying its comforting, warm embrace as well.

They stayed silent for a few moments during which a couple of servants had come in. Setting down a pitcher of wine and a couple of glasses, along with a tray of fresh fruit and cheese with a bit of smoked meat, they left as quickly and quietly as they had entered.

Diego hadn't been hungry until the food had been presented to them. He moved in for a bite of meat and poured both of them a glass of wine.

"You should probably eat something," he urged her. "We may be here for some time."

He expected her to argue but was pleasantly surprised when she removed his chequeta and slung it over the arm of a nearby chair. His gaze lingered on the front of her shirt. The blood from the bandit's nose and the dirt from their travels had blended together and turned a sickening shade of brown.

Yet, she hadn't seemed to either realize or care. She merely settled into the chair and quickly took a bite of cheese. And then another and another. Then took a deep drink of wine.

They ate in silence for a few moments until the wine and food had warmed their blood and filled their bellies.

"What do you want to know?" she finally asked as she cradled the small glass in her hand and swirled the crimson liquid, anticipating his inquiry and looking like she was dreading it as well.

Diego wasn't certain of where to begin. Dozens of questions swirled through his mind and he tried to organize them all by priority.

"So, you are the one who has been impersonating Zorro..." he still couldn't believe it. But, Bernardo had been correct and despite his servant never saying a word, he was sure to never hear the end of it.

She shook her head. "I have not been impersonating anyone. I have merely been confused for him." She grinned humorously. "Your soldiers confuse quite easily."

He couldn't deny that. "But, you must have heard of Zorro's exploits before arriving in Los Angeles."

She nodded. "When I arrived in California, yes. But I had no intention of impersonating him when I left home."

"And why did you leave home?"

"That is... a very long story that I do not wish to get into at the moment. All I can say is that I am here looking for... someone." By the sound of her voice, this person had done something terrible.

"Have you had much luck?"

She nodded. "Some. I do know that he is in Los Angeles." She averted her gaze from his and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. He had the feeling that she knew much more than she was telling him.

"I can help you find him," he pressed.

"I'd prefer not to involve you, Diego. It is problematic enough that I dropped my guard enough to let you get close to me."

Her words stung slightly but then he realized she was chastising herself. "Why did you?"

She shrugged. "There was something about you that told me I could trust you."

"And I want you to trust me." He didn't know what he would have to do to gain her trust, but he would do it.

"But, I can't afford to rely on you." She was finally able to look at him again, but once again that wall had been erected which would make it far more difficult to break through her defenses.

Diego felt an argument building inside of him. Just how hard would it be for her to trust him? Or to even rely on someone else? She didn't have to do it all alone. But, he was just too tired to argue. Besides, listening to what she wanted to tell him was much more important. The fact that she was opening up this much was a milestone in and of itself.

"How long have you known about me?" he asked instead.

"I've had my suspicions for a while," was her elusive response. "And I know that you've had your suspicions about me as well."

He began to deny her statement, but then remembered that he needed her to trust him. "I'll admit that it started as a joke that I made and Bernardo took it a bit too far. The more we thought about it afterward, the more it made sense."

"He was only looking out for you, I'm sure. He seems very loyal."

Diego smiled as he thought of Bernardo. There truly wouldn't be a Zorro without him. He was Diego's right-hand man until the bitter end. "That he is. Emily seems to be as well."

She nodded. "Yes, she's saved my life quite a few times."

Padre Felipe finally returned with a cream-colored top draped over one arm. "Forgive me for taking so long," he apologized. "But, it took me some time before I could locate a proper garment. This was donated to the mission by Don Herrada when his wife passed."

She stood up to accept it. They both noticed the way the monk's gaze had zeroed in on the blouse she currently wore; especially the splash of blood that covered the front. When he turned it back onto the two of them, they felt as if he was judging them again.

"Thank you, Padre," she responded, gratefully.

"O-Of course, my dear. Now, is there anything else the two of you need? Would you like to remain with you while we wait for the soldiers?"

"We will be fine, Padre. Gracias," Diego told him. "The señorita and I have things we must discuss in private."

The monk glanced between them with a calculating gaze, an eyebrow arching in question at Diego. It was an eyebrow of judgment. "I hope that there is no other trouble, Diego?" The older man's tone became cold as he asked that question.

Diego understood what he was implying and the fact that his old friend would even consider the fact that Diego would take advantage of the señorita was embarrassing. Not to mention insulting to his family name. "Of course not, Padre. We just need to discuss a few things."

Seeming to be put in his place, the monk relented with a heavy sigh. "Very well. I will at least leave one of my Indians outside of the room if you need anything further."

"Gracias. Buenas noches." Standing up, Diego urged him toward the door before he could as any more invasive questions.

"Buenas noches, Diego." His gaze was cold as he focused on him. "Señorita," he spoke more kindly.

"Good night, Padre," she smiled at him, though chuckling as Diego practically slammed the door in his face. "Did he just imply what I think he did?"

"I believe so," Diego blushed as the heat of embarrassment crept up the back of his neck.

"I was unaware that you were such a lady's man," she teased with a chuckle.

"Me too," he laughed even though he still felt uncomfortable by the monk's implication.

It felt good to laugh again, though, he realized. And then he also realized that he had laughed a great deal with Olivia. No other woman had laughed so much with him.

He noticed that she still held the shirt in her hands and swallowed thickly. "If you would like to change, I can leave." He pointed at the door and reached to open it again.

"Actually," she hurried to respond as his fingers wrapped around the door latch. "Tonight unnerved me a bit. I'd prefer it if you would stay."

"We are perfectly safe here."

"I know. I just... please stay." There was a stark reveal of vulnerability on her face as she twisted the fabric of the shirt in her hands.

How could he leave her when he then realized that she was actually frightened? She had always seemed so confident despite her clumsiness but she was actually afraid this time. Not that he could blame her. She'd stayed strong while those disgusting men had had their hands all over her. It was an experience that would probably haunt her for quite some time. And she would need a shoulder to lean on when those nightmares came.

"I'll stay," he conceded. "I'll just give you some privacy."

He turned away from her, but she was standing closer to the fireplace. The light was casting a shadow onto the wall he now faced. This was a mistake, he realized. He could see every move she made to undo the buttons on her old blouse and remove it. He could only imagine the way the light danced over her bare skin.

Now was not the time, he chastised himself. They had just been through a life-or-death situation and he should not be thinking such things.

Swallowing thickly, he closed his eyes, knowing he had to distract himself. "I'm curious," he said, surprised by the thickness in his voice.

"About what?" He heard her give a whimper, which made his eyes shoot back open. He relaxed only slightly as he watched her shadow moving stiffly like her muscles were tired and sore.

"Emily. She really is deaf, isn't she?" She had undone the buttons at her waist, opening up her skirt as she moved to put on the new shirt.

"Yes. She is."

"But she helps you?"

"More than you could know." The silhouette was now wearing the fresh blouse and was in the process of tucking it into the skirt.

"How?"

"You can turn back around," she told him before answering. She was now sitting on the sofa, nibbling on a grape. He did as he was told, allowing him to take in her appearance. The new top had shorter sleeves and they revealed a large white bandage streaked with red on her left forearm. It was the final piece of the puzzle to click into place for him. Up until he saw it, he had the slightest bit of deniability. Not anymore.

"When I was living with my aunt in France, she found Emily in an orphanage. My aunt has always been obsessed with keeping up appearances in her societal circle and taking in her poor orphaned and socially inept niece was going to be a lot of hard work. So she took in Emily to be my maid."

He settled down beside her and poured two fresh glasses of wine. He handed one to her. "Well, that can't be the entire story. Why did she choose a deaf girl to be your maid?"

"She didn't know that she was deaf. After she became employed, she hid it for quite some time."

He didn't have to pretend to be impressed. He really was. "How did she do that?"

"Let's just say that she plays her part quite well."

"And how did your aunt react when she found out?"

"She tried to dismiss her and say that she had been trying to ruin her reputation." She sipped at her wine. "Aunt Josie was a widow, which she used to her advantage. Her dalliances weren't exactly secret. But the fact that they had been mostly married men were. Her life in society was her entire being and if anyone were to discover who she had been spending her time with, it would ruin her. She and I never really got along. She had threatened numerous times to disinherit me and send me back to the 'cesspool' I came from—that was how she'd described my home. So, for Emily's well-being, I retaliated. I told her that I would reveal her secret if she tried to get rid of her."

Diego made a face of disgust. "I bet that didn't go over too well. She sounds absolutely awful." It was amazing that Olivia hadn't allowed herself to be sucked up into a lifestyle like that. After all, she had been a girl without parents and the only mother figure in her life was a shallow, selfish little schemer.

"Just be lucky that you never have to meet her. She would die before she would ever set foot on the shores of California." She sat up a bit straighter in her seat and stuck her nose in the air to imitate her aunt, which made him chuckle. "She would call it 'dirty' and 'utterly beneath her'."

"It's a miracle that you didn't end up just like her."

"Yes, well, I was already old enough to know that Aunt Josie wasn't the kind of woman I wanted to grow up to be." She reached out to pour herself another glass of wine, but Diego beat her to it and poured it for her.

"So, Emily acts as your spy?" he asked, getting back to his line of questioning. He didn't know how much longer they would have until the soldiers arrived and he wanted to know as much as she was willing to tell him.

She nodded. "Among other things. She is also my best friend."

"And that is how you figured me out," he concluded. "She knew Bernardo wasn't really deaf and dumb."

"I can understand why they call you the fox," she grinned. "I had suspected there was something... different about you when we first met. I thought you were far too charming and figured that you were up to something. It had never occurred to me that that was how you normally act." Her cheeks tinted a rosy color in response to her own words.

Diego chose not to comment on it. "I don't completely understand, though. You were with me when the impostor attacked at the fiesta. How..." he motioned to her bandaged arm and felt the deep sting of guilt in his gut. He had been the one to do that to her. It was nauseating to think about.

"With everyone in a panic, I was able to slip away. She and I switched places. She was the one who interrupted the party and I was the one you followed into the pueblo and fought that night."

"And when Gilberto allegedly escaped from his cell, why did you draw the soldiers back to the pueblo to save him? He was a traitor." He had tried to kill Ramon and was facing the noose, so his fate was to die either way. It was something he hadn't been able to figure out.

"He was a man who didn't deserve to be shot down in cold blood," she told him matter-of-factly. "Emily had uncovered the plot to kill him by keeping a close eye on the garrison. Gilberto carried information about the man I came to find. I was hoping the soldiers would arrive in time to stop it from happening. Unfortunately, we were too late."

"The man who you came to find, you can tell me about him. You can trust me." He grabbed hold of the hand attached to the bandaged arm, his fingers lightly running over the dressing as his chest continued to swell with guilt. "You don't have to do this alone."

She pulled back the appendage, frowning. "Yes, I do."

Their conversation had taken a turn somewhere and he didn't know how to turn it back around. "Olivia-" The sound of thundering hoofbeats outside made him pause.

"Sergeant, take the lancers and search around the perimeter of the mission." Diego recognized Ramon's voice as he yelled out orders to his men.

"Sounds like the cavalry has arrived," she said, indicating that their conversation was over. For now.

Diego cursed under his breath as he watched her set her glass down and begin to stand up. He did the same and reached for his chequeta. He plucked it from the arm of the chair she'd tossed it over and held it out to her. "Here. The Capitán will, no doubt, have a lot of questions and it is probably best if he doesn't see that," he motioned to the bandage but didn't touch it again.

She said nothing as she took it from him and put it on. It was all he needed to confirm his suspicion that Ramon was unaware that she had been wearing the black hood. He would have to remember to question her about what part the Comandante played in her entire scheme.

The door opened and just outside stood Ramon, flanked by Bernardo and Emily.

"Thank the saints that you two are safe," he said with a huge sigh of relief. "My men have been searching for you for hours."

"You have?" Diego asked, puzzled.

Emily pushed her way into the room and rushed to Olivia, wrapping her arms around her mistress and hugging her tight. Her hands flew lightning fast as she silently spoke to her mistress.

"Emily was nearby when she saw the men in the señorita's room," Ramon explained. "She hid and saw them take you. She ran into Bernardo in the plaza and they alerted me and my men. We've been searching ever since, Diego. How ever did you get away?"

Diego's head began to spin with that information. "Erm... Zorro saved us. I don't suppose you found the men who did this?"

"We found a cabaña with almost a dozen men tied up. Zorro had left his mark on the door so we knew he had been there, but we weren't sure what had happened to you. We'd just given up searching for the night and were turning back to the pueblo when Padre Felipe's man found us on the road near Los Angeles. I am glad to see you safe, my friend." Ramon gave Diego a friendly pat on the back as he shared his relief.

"It's good to see you, but this isn't over." His gaze rested on Olivia as she and Emily continued their silent conversation.

"What do you mean?"

"There were others. And a man named Borromeo. They were sent to kill her."

Ramon followed his gaze and sighed heavily. "So, the robbery attempt was not an isolated incident."

Diego turned to Ramon in confusion. "What robbery attempt?" This was the first he was hearing about it.

"I'm surprised that she didn't tell you. She and Don Velasquez were held up at gunpoint just the other day by two bandits. Luckily, Don Tomas had taken his rifle along with them and managed to chase them off."

"And you think it is connected?"

"Do you think it is a coincidence?" Ramon countered.

Diego didn't have to think long about it as he glanced back over her way. "No. Someone wants her dead."

"But without knowing who it is, there isn't much we can do."

Diego had an idea that she hadn't told him the absolute truth and that she knew exactly who was trying to kill her and why. But, he doubted that she would be willing to divulge that information just yet. "Still, her room at the inn is no longer safe for her. She needs someplace safer."

"What do you have in mind?"

"I have an idea, but I doubt she would readily agree to it."

"I'll stand beside you if that is what it takes. We can make her see that it's for her own good." Ramon was so sure of himself, yet he was extremely naive on this matter. Olivia would be difficult to convince and there was no way she would give in without a fight.

(1) blusa- blouse