Rosarita had always enjoyed the ride from the village leading to her family's hacienda, now occupied by her tío and tía. First, the path crossed rocky terrains, going through the hills that surrounded the pueblo. Later on, the landscape changed, opening up to a sheltered valley where the nature was surprisingly luxuriant and many old trees bordered the road as it passed through long stretches of ranch lands. It was a rather long ride, on a remote path, but it was very pleasant. As children, Rosarita and Diego had explored this stretch of road many times.
Diego was leading the carriage's horses at a moderate pace, leaving them the possibility to catch up on everything that had occurred in their lives since the last time they met. Rosarita could hardly believe all the things that had happened in Los Angeles in barely two years. A measle epidemic, a drought, an American with no manners... They even fought an insurrection led by the Administrado himself! It apparently took the entire village, including a private army of dons, to defeat the man's evil plans.
"Did you take part in it?"
Diego looked a bit embarrassed. "I escaped the magistrate's vigilance and went to gather the other dons. It was not the most heroic action but it was crucial to the victory."
"And on a more personal level, anything to report?"
His genuine laugh at her indiscreet question made Rosarita's heart leap. She found herself hoping he didn't have much to report on this front.
"You mean, am I betrothed? I am not." He glanced quickly at her and rolled his eyes, playing exasperation. "Please, Rosarita, have mercy. My father is pestering me enough about it, already."
"May I ask what happened with Anna-Maria? She said you suddenly disappeared on her."
Diego shrugged. "She was in love with someone else."
"Zorro, huh?"
He raised an eyebrow, surprised by her lack of enthusiasm. "You don't approve?"
She never told Anna-Maria directly, of course. Rosarita and her weren't close enough that she felt free to share her own judgment on such personal matters. They were more friendly acquaintances who shared the same social circle, which wasn't that big, in Monterrey. But Rosarita didn't mind listening to the tales of the outlaw's heroics in the town, and Anna-Maria loved recounting the many stories. So, of course, Rosarita knew everything that happened between the young lady and the famous Zorro.
"I just thought it was silly to ask him to take the amnesty and reveal himself."
"Oh?" Diego seemed surprised by her position on the matter. "But he's an outlaw! How could Zorro marry if he has a price on his head? Besides, will he continue to fight if he finds love, wants to settle down and start a family? A man is supposed to take care of his family, isn't he? Protect them. How could he do that, if he has to go out every night, risking his life. And risking theirs, by association. What would happen to them if he ever got caught?"
It was Rosarita's turn to raise an eyebrow. "You seem to have given this a lot of thought."
Diego chuckled. "You are right, enough about Zorro. So, Rosarita," he asked playfully, eyes sparkling with mischief. "How about you? Any suitor desperate to win your heart?"
"There was one for a time, but… it didn't work out."
She quickly discarded the subject with a wave of the hand. It didn't work out because she kept comparing him to the Diego she remembered and poor Pedro simply couldn't hold the comparison. Was it so hard to find a man that would be at once brave, kind and smart? A man that would consider her as an equal, a real partner, in their relationship and not a fragile little thing to be kept at home? But also a man who would make her feel safe just by being at her side? A man who would defend her and others if need arose.
She glanced at Diego and her heart tightened. She remembered how little he did, last time, to help her friend Franco Barbarossa. Even he didn't seem able to hold the comparison with his younger self these days. She sighed. Maybe it had all been her imagination, an ideal vision of a life partner she had projected on her childhood best friend. Such a perfect man probably didn't exist in the real world.
They were passing by a large corn field when they noticed Capitán Esteban and his squadron on the road ahead. Diego slowed down his carriage before stopping it at a cautious distance to observe the scene. The soldiers were forcing workers out of the fields and rounding them up into an old wagon. They weren't sparing any means to enforce their task as efficiently and rapidly as they could, whipping and beating the poor peones if necessary. Rosarita flinched when one was hit by a whip and let out a cry of pain.
"This is outrageous!" she exclaimed, shocked by such unnecessary brutality. "He can't molest people like this!"
On the road ahead, next to the cart where the men were forced to climb, Captain Esteban was standing tall in his saddle, overlooking the operation with a cold distance. At his feet, a man was pleading the peones's cause.
"Por favor, Capitán, I need my workers."
But his words were falling into a deaf ear. Visibly out of patience, Esteban maneuvered his horse, forcing the man to jump out of the way. "I need hands to clean and renovate the cuartel's stables. You better stay away from this, vaquero, or I'll have you arrested with your fellow peones."
His voice was icy cold, but his threats wouldn't deter the man. "Don't you have your own soldiers for that?" he protested. "Those men were working the fields! Who is going to plow and plant? Your lancers, perhaps?"
"That's enough!" Esteban snarled. "Soldiers, arrest this impudent vaquero."
Two privates rushed to the vaquero's sides, grabbing him by the shoulders and dragging him to the cart with the peones.
"Don Nacho will hear about this!" the man still shouted, not the least intimidated.
Rosarita was about to slide down from her seat and express her own sentiments to the Capitán, but she was held back by Diego's firm hand grabbing her elbow.
"Stay here."
The tension in his voice, more than the unusual commanding tone, stopped Rosarita. She turned to look at him. He was darting a dark and angry look at the Comandante. jaw squared and fists clenched. He looked just as outraged as she was, and yet. Yet, he wouldn't move. She shrugged herself off his hold, upset at his lack of desire to go defend the peones.
"We've got to help them! Go talk to the Captain! Certainly, he cannot order everyone around!" Rosarita was boiling with anger.
"Unfortunately, he can, he is the Comandante." Diego sighed and his frustration was audible. "If we were to protest his actions right now, we'd only risk getting arrested too, thus not helping anyone. No, the right course of action is to report him to his superiors. I've sent dozens of letters to the governor to get him relieved of his post. Alas, to no avail..."
"Still with your letters!" Rosarita exclaimed, unable to contain her disdain. "Have they ever worked?"
Diego lowered his head and remained silent. She felt vaguely guilty for being so hard with him. It wasn't his fault if Esteban was such a terrible man. But she was too upset to apologize. They watched, helpless, as Esteban kept a close and menacing eye on his operation. Even his soldiers were scared of him. They had rounded up a dozen Natives into the wagon, pointing their rifles at them.
Suddenly escaping Diego's surveillance, Rosarita dashed out. "Comandante," she started. "This is no way to treat people."
Esteban's cold eyes fell on her, as if she was nothing more than a pestering insect. Her heart froze for a second and her voice died in her throat. But that only made her more furious inside. She clenched her fists, mustering the will to retort, when she felt Diego's hand land on her shoulder, pulling her gently but firmly aside. She hadn't even heard him walk to them.
"Capitán Esteban, it appears we keep running into each other today," he said, perfectly amiably.
Esteban rolled his eyes at this new interruption, though he relaxed a little seeing Diego's cordial manners.
"You'll have to forgive the Señorita," Diego went on, in the same affable tone. "She can be quite… spirited."
Rosarita darted him an angry look, but he kept his gaze resolutely on the Comandante.
"She does have a point, though," he went on. "Are the whips really necessary? The people in Los Angeles have worked hard to keep a good relationship with the local populations, and such treatment of the Natives here will certainly not work in our favor."
"You do seem to find yourself surrounded by – what did you say? spirited women, today, de la Vega."
So, the whole part about the treatment of the Natives had gone right over his head. Offended, Rosarita was about to tell this Capitán exactly how spirited she was, but Diego's grip on her shoulder tightened and he spoke right over her.
"And, Capitán, if I may," he went on cautiously, "was it really necessary to arrest Señor Avila, who, shall I remind you, is a haciendado now?"
Esteban tensed up, and darted Diego a deadly look. "Again, de la Vega, mind your own business."
The man in the cart looked up. "It's okay, don Diego. But maybe you could inform Elena of my situation?"
Rosarita glanced at Diego, who was doing his best to keep a cool and cordial facade in front of the despicable officer. His clenched jaw was the only sign betraying his tension, but Rosarita knew her friend well enough to guess he was on edge. He was holding Esteban's look and seemed to ponder how far he could go without being arrested himself. His privileged position as the son of the richest landowner was protecting him somewhat, but for how long? Diego seemed to have followed a similar line of thought and reached the conclusion he had gone far enough today.
He broke eye contact with Esteban and gave him a short nod. "Well, we wish you good luck with that renovation of the stables. Those are hard working men you've rounded up, I'm sure they'll finish it all in no time, and then they'll be back to finish plowing and planting, eh?"
"Naturally," Esteban grudgingly agreed, before turning back on his horse and signaling his soldiers to go.
Feeling powerless, they watched as the procession set off toward Los Angeles. Blood still boiling, Rosarita stepped away from Diego.
"Is that all you can do?"
"But what more would you have me do, Rosarita?"
She wasn't sure what annoyed her more: the fact that he had prevented her from speaking her mind, the fact that they hadn't been able to help those poor souls, or the fact that he was right, antagonizing Capitán Esteban would probably have not helped. It was infuriating!
Meanwhile, Diego was standing there, staring pensively toward the horizon, where the cart had disappeared in a cloud of dust, quiet. This new version of her old friend was somewhat baffling. The fire was apparently still there, sparkling at times inside of him, but for some inexplicable reason he did all he could to suppress it and not do a thing.
"It's getting late, we should go home," she said, not even bothering disguising her tone.
Diego snapped out of his thoughts and his gaze lingered on her as he took in her discontentment. She was at least hoping he'd protest, try to justify himself, but he didn't. He just looked down, with an air of defeat across his face.
"I'm sorry, Rosarita," he said in a low voice.
"What happened to you, Diego?"
He gave a sad shrug. "I don't know. I grew up, I guess."
Could it be that simple? Could it just be that Diego had become a reasonable adult? Somehow, she had a hard time believing it. She had a feeling Diego wasn't being completely forward with her, but she couldn't figure out why.
She sighed, disappointed. "Nevermind."
They walked back to the carriage, where Bernardo had been patiently waiting for them. Diego offered her his arm, and she took it, but the incident had broken the spell of their reunion. A thought suddenly crossed her mind as Diego helped her climb into the passenger seat. "Is Zorro still around?"
Diego walked around the carriage and took his place next to her. "Sure, whenever he's needed. Why?"
"You think he'll hear about this? Will he be able to help those peones?"
A small smile finally reappeared on Diego's lips. "Don't worry, he has his ways of knowing everything that happens around the pueblo."
To be continued...
