They arrived at the mission about an hour after the first coach, the driver had driven carefully to prevent further injury to the people he was transporting there.
As Emmanuel had ordered, the doctor brought by Lerato had expected the arrival of the coach, and was already helping the injured when the second coach got there.
"Thank you for your help, Don Emmanuel!" Villareal said as he shook the young man's hand at disembarking.
"God bless you, Señor!" Doña Antonia added gratefully.
"I assume you will be on your way again tomorrow morning?" Don Janus asked as he disembarked after his wife to help his daughter.
"No. My men and I will first accompany you to Monterey and make sure you get there safely." Emmanuel surprised him by saying, just as a neophyte came to escort them to their rooms for the night. "Doña Alma would never forgive me if anything was to happen to you on the way. We will leave together tomorrow morning after you'll have had some rest."
"That is awfully kind of you, Señor, but my daughter is in no condition to travel yet." Doña Antonia replied.
"I will be fine, Mother," Diana protested.
"Nonsense! We'll need to stay here at least a few days to make sure her wound heals without complications."
"Why ae we even going to Monterey if we need to return south, to Los Angeles?" Diana asked.
"Because I need to visit the governor. But I see your point, Daughter." Her father said pensively.
"If I may offer a suggestion," Villareal said, "perhaps you might consider leaving your wife and daughter here while you and I travel up north. You can meet with the governor, then head back in a few days. That way, you will also give your daughter enough time to recover."
The man seemed open to the suggestion.
"That's settled, then. Tomorrow, the three of us will head for Monterey." Emmanuel said.
"You'll leave us here? Alone?" Diana inquired.
Don Janus opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to reconsider. "She's right…" He said, addressing the other two men. "Don Emmanuel, seeing how the señor here and myself do need to head for Monterey, while there's no need for you to also come with us, would you, perhaps, allow me to be in debt to you even further by agreeing to remain here and watching over my wife and daughter in my place till I return?"
The young man glanced at the Señorita, then nodded. "It would be my honor," he replied with a smile. "In that case, two of my men will remain here with us. I'll instruct the rest of them to escort you to Monterey. And when you return, we'll all head for Los Angeles together. Would that be agreeable to you?"
"Agreeable? Señor, you are trying very hard to make sure I'll never be able to pay my debt towards you." The don uttered, happily shaking the young man's hand.
ZZZ
There wasn't much one could do at a Mission. Horse rides and long walks through the fields were not Emmanuel's favorite options to pass his time.
During his time in Madrid, he had much rather read, or pursued young, marriageable women. Since then, there's hardly been much free time to enjoy himself, so he had not come up with any new activities.
Unfortunately, he had not brought any books with him, and the monastery's library included nothing except bibles and religious studies. As for the marriageable young woman there, the only one he knew about had just been through a trauma, and, while he certainly found her appealing, he didn't think she was in any mood for romance, considering what she had just been through.
So, Emmanuel decided to pass the time by practicing his swordsmanship. And, while the monks and the neophytes were not exactly able to even hold a sword, one of the servants who had remained there had some rather decent skills when it came to fencing. Not comparable to those of Emmanuel but the young man was nothing if not a good sport. So, instead of fighting to win, he decided to fight to teach, correcting his man's posture and moves, whenever he made a mistake.
"You are a very gifted swordsman," a woman's voice attracted the young man's attention about two hours after his day's choice of entertainment had started.
He turned around to notice that Diana was staring at him from the shade of an old tree, some twenty feet away.
"Señorita," Emmanuel greeted her with a slight bow.
"My mother asked me to tell you that lunch is ready and that we were hoping you'd join us." She said.
"In that case, please let your mother know that I will be there as soon as I have freshened up and made myself presentable." He uttered, aware that he had sweat a lot during the last hour of practice.
She nodded and headed for the Mission's main building, where the neophytes were setting up the tables.
Emmanuel stared a few moments after her, then, leaving his sword with his man, he headed for his room, where he proceeded to wash himself and put on a fresh shirt and a jacket. After checking himself in the mirror, content with the result, he headed for the courtyard, where the people were already eating.
"We saved you a seat, Don Emmanuel," Doña Antonia said, inviting him to sit across the table from her, right next to her daughter.
"Thank you," he uttered, sitting down. Diana, expressionless, glanced at him slightly. "Are you feeling better today, Señorita?" He inquired as he decided what to eat.
"A little better, yes." She said.
"Luckily," her mother explained, "her wound is not deep, and is healing well."
"I am glad to hear it." He answered as he glanced towards the young woman. She turned towards him with what he perceived to be a shy smile, and her eye lingered on him just enough for him to notice, once again, how blue they were.
"Doña Alma mentioned that you are looking to settle in the Los Angeles area." He said, as he helped himself to a couple of enchiladas and began eating.
"Yes. My husband bought a piece of land a few miles west of the pueblo, near the road to San Pedro, from what I was told. He hopes to build us a hacienda in a couple of months."
"In a couple of months? And where will you stay in the meantime?"
"We were told the tavern is rather decent and clean, so my daughter and I will stay there."
"Nonsense! There are plenty of rooms in the De la Vega Hacienda to accommodate you and your servants, and, while the tavern is one of the best in California, I can assure you that you'll feel far more comfortable at the hacienda."
"I'm sure we would… But we don't know the De la Vegas… And we'd hardly dare to impose on strangers, not even on those related to our good friends, the Moncadas." Doña Antonia replied dumbfounded.
"Considering I am inviting you, you'd not be imposing," Emmanuel explained.
"Doesn't that hacienda belong to Don Alejandro de la Vega?" Diana asked. "Doña Alma's cousin…"
"Indeed. But the De la Vegas are the only family I have, and the hacienda is also my home. Don Alejandro made that very clear to me."
"And won't he mind you inviting us?" Diana inquired.
"Not in the slightest. I am very sure of that, Señorita."
"Well… We are grateful for the offer, Don Emmanuel… I will have to discuss it with my husband." Doña Antonia said.
"Of course." He agreed.
The rest of their conversation focused on Los Angeles, the two women insisted he tell them all he could about their future home.
"Are there any unmarried men in Los Angeles, Don Emmanuel?" Doña Antonia asked at one point.
"Quite a few, Señora, given that, while there's an abundance of men in the area, marriageable women are far fewer." He replied.
"Perhaps you might introduce some to my daughter. If at all possible, I want to keep her close to me. Perhaps your wife could advise her on who to choose…"
"My wife?"
"Yes… Forgive me, but I heard you yesterday mentioning to one of your men that you needed to get her a message. Victoria, I believe is her name, right?" The doña inquired.
"Oh… No! You are mistaken, Señora. I am not married. Victoria is the wife of my friend, Diego de la Vega. He is away from the hacienda, and has asked me to return to Los Angeles as soon as possible to help his father on the ranch. I had already informed Victoria that I'd be there by Monday, but, seeing how it would take me a few more days, I asked my men to send her a message informing her of the delay. I think that is what you might have overheard."
"Ah… Yes… Indeed. So… You are not married, then?" She asked, glancing at her daughter.
Emmanuel smiled. "No. Not yet." He said, clear about why the doña was asking.
ZZZ
"He would be a good match, my dear!" The young man heard Doña Antonia tell Diana a while later, as they walked on the terrace, right by his room's window. "And, since he doesn't have a hacienda of his own, he might as well agree to move into ours when it's finished."
"Mother… Don Emmanuel is…" She tried to protest.
"Good-looking? Yes. I know…"
"Mother!"
"I am married, not blind, my dear!" The older woman uttered. "And neither are you my the looks you gave him yesterday, while I was patching you up and he was helping the injured men."
"You were seeing things!"
"I was certainly not! And I also heard you say that he was the bravest young man you've ever met!" Doña Antonia insisted.
"I… I don't remember saying that. Besides, I am –"
"My dear, you are unmarried and in your twenties already; not for lacking offers, of course. God knows that there have been plenty of good men who asked your father for your hand since you were only 17. At least three of them quite good-looking…"
"Hardly. Besides, it's about the looks. Well, alright. It may be a little about the looks… But, if I am to marry, I want someone… someone who can make me feel seen! Truly seen! Someone who can make me laugh… with who I can talk and learn from…"
"I'm sure there is plenty to learn from Don Emmanuel! He must be at least eight or ten years you elder…"
"That doesn't mean that he is the man for me… Or that I'm the woman for him."
"Oh, my dear! Is that it? You think you're too old for marriage? I know plenty of women who married in their twenties! You are still beautiful. You are well-read, intelligent, and have a good heart… Not to mention that your father will make sure to offer you a good dowry, tempting enough for the son of any rich haciendado, not to mention for a man living in another's house! Just give him a chance, Diana! I know you two could make each other very happy!"
Emmanuel, who was smiling at the conversation from his bed, couldn't hear more, for the two women rounded the corner of the building after that, and their voices no longer echoed far enough to reach him.
"Diana…" He muttered, realizing the young woman was the first one to incite any interest in him for the fairer sex in a very long time. Since the French invaded Spain, Emmanuel had other things than romance on his mind. Revenge was what dominated his every thought for a very long time.
When it was all over, when De Soto was in a grave and Risendo in prison, he had, indeed, found himself in need of a new objective.
For a while, after Diego and Victoria got married, Emmanuel even considered leaving and following his own path. He had enough money to last him several lifetimes. He could have become the Count of Dragonera, should he have wished it. He did do it, in fact, on occasion, but only at Diego's request and for a specific, good cause, like the freeing of the Escalante brothers.
Traveling the world as a rich nobleman, he would have had the life he had dreamed of as a young man. But that was not his dream anymore. All the pain he had been through, all the horrors he had witnessed had ended up changing him.
All he wanted now, all he truly wanted, was to belong; to have a family. And, when Don Alejandro called him "son" one day, about a year after Diego's official return, he realized he had a family. So he devoted himself to it.
He found that his place was with the De la Vegas, and they made sure he never felt like an intruder in their family, the elderly don even going so far as to put his name on the deed to the hacienda, making him an official owner of one third of all he had.
During the last few weeks, however, since Dario had been freed, the family dynamic had changed somewhat, and Emmanuel had started longing for more. Till that day, however, he had not understood what was missing from his life.
Returning his thoughts to Diana, Emmanuel found himself thinking of her smile and those beautiful eyes of hers. She was certainly appealing. As was the idea of a life spent by her side. Strangely enough, though he had just met the young woman, Emmanuel was, for the first time in his life, considering settling down and starting a family of his own.
ZZZ
"Would you like to go for a walk, Señorita?" He asked Diana the following morning, finding her watching the sunrise on the terrace.
"Señor Emmanuel! I didn't hear you." She replied nervously.
He shrugged his shoulders, offering her his arm.
"Just the two of us?"
The young man nodded.
She hesitated, yet grasped his arm with her hand, and they started walking.
"Have you always lived in California?" She asked a couple of minutes later, seeing how he didn't say a word.
"No. I lived most of my life in Spain. I've only been here for a little over five years now." He replied.
She went silent for a few moments. "You were in Spain when Bonaparte came, then?"
"Indeed, I was." He answered. "I was living in Madrid at the time, so I had a front seat to all the horrors the French committed there at the beginning at the invasion."
"You were in Madrid? In 1808?"
"Yes. Though I left in late April to return to Barcelona, where I am from."
"You did? And… Did you leave anyone behind in Madrid?" She wondered.
"Any… woman, you mean? Oh, no. I was not exactly the kind of man interested in settling down at the time."
"So there was no young woman whose heart was broken as a result of your departure?"
"I don't believe there was, no." He said with a smile, then became worried at noticing she wasn't at all smiling. "Please don't get the wrong impression of me," Emmanuel uttered. "True, I'm not saying I was a saint. In fact, I must admit I was somewhat careless in my youth when it came to romance. Women were, for me, back then, a… pleasant entertainment. But I never was one to go around breaking young girl's hearts left and right."
"You weren't?"
"No. And I am not like that now, either."
"I see… Well…" she said, "if you wouldn't mind, I would like to go back now."
He was a little taken aback but nodded his agreement, accompanying her back to the Mission.
"Thank you for the walk," She said when they arrived.
Emmanuel bowed slightly and headed towards his quarters, leaving her with her mother.
ZZZ
"What did he say to you?" Her mother hurried to ask as soon as the young man was far away enough not to overhear.
"What?" She asked.
"You walked together for at least twenty minutes, Daughter! What did he tell you?"
"Enough."
"Enough?"
"Yes. Enough." She replied.
"Enough?" Her mother repeated, as her daughter, in an attempt to escape her questions, left, heading for the small room they shared at the Mission.
ZZZ
That afternoon, after lunch, Emmanuel asked the doña for permission to invite her daughter for another walk, and she wholeheartedly agreed.
Again they walked in silence for a while, until he spotted a rose bush, and went to get her one. She accepted it, holding it in her joined hands as they continued walking.
"May I ask how you like spending your time, Señorita?" He asked.
"I like reading. And I am an avid correspondent. I write to my friends almost every day."
"That's admirable. You have many friends who you miss here?"
"Several. My cousin in Madrid most of all…"
"You have a cousin there?"
"Yes. I also used to live in Madrid, you see? In fact, I was born and raised there. When things got worse, however, after the French came, my father decided to move us to Rio de la Plata. Then, to Nueva España, and, now that the revolution is probably soon to succeed, he decided we should come here. I still miss Madrid, though, even if I was just twelve when we left it."
"A child…"
"Yes. But a child able to see and understand much of what the adults tried to hide from her."
Emmanuel smiled in agreement. "So this cousin of yours… Is she married?"
"Yes. And the mother of five daughters."
"She must have her hands full."
"I do believe she does."
"And you? How come you haven't married yet?"
"If you ask my mother, she'll say that it's because I am deluded when it comes to love. My father, on the other hand, thinks it's because none of the men I have been introduced to since becoming of age deserved me."
"And if I ask you?"
"I'd tell you that it's because of my cousin in Madrid." She said.
"How so?"
"Because of what happened to her."
"What do you mean? Isn't she happily married with five daughters?"
"Married? Yes. Happily? I'm not so sure... You see, just before the war, she had fallen in love. He was everything she wished for in a man, or, at least, that was what she told me on multiple occasions. I only met him once. I was but a child, but I could certainly see what she liked about him. He was a young man of nineteen at the time. Handsome, smart, well educated, endowed with a very witty sense of humor. And he had the most radiant smile. I had never seen my cousin laughing so much as she did when they were together."
"I assume he was not the one she married then?"
"How did you know?"
"Intuition." She gave him a puzzled look, so he explained. "You mentioned not being sure that she was happily married, so I assumed she didn't marry the man she loved."
"Indeed…"
"Would I be indiscreet to ask what happened?"
"What always happens to naive young girls in love. That man played with her heart, then left without a word of goodbye. He simply disappeared one day, and she never heard from him again. He was just gone, leaving her desolate, wondering what had she done to deserve such cruelty."
"The times were complicated. People could get arrested and disappear without a trace…" He said, thinking of what Diego had been through.
"That was also her worry at first. She thought he might have been conscripted into the army, or arrested. As you just said, it was not unprecedented at the time.
"So, as soon as she could, she decided to search for him. It's how she found out that he had just packed his bags one day and left town, without even bothering to tell her where and why he was going. She was distraught, as you can imagine."
"I'm sorry to hear it. Did she ever find out what became of him?"
"No… He never wrote to her, as you can imagine. But I did see him, years later. He was quite alright."
He nodded without saying anything. What could he have said?
The young woman glanced at him, then continued. "When returning home the day she went to look for him, my cousin locked herself in her room and cried for days on end, refusing to eat or see anyone; not even me, when I went to say goodbye to her.
"A few months later, news reached me that she had married a young man who had tried to court her before, but who she never cared for."
"I see…"
"I write her constantly, though she hardly writes to me more than once or twice a year, and never tells me anything of importance. She recounts for me what her children had been up to recently, the dinner parties she had attended, and some of the gossip she heard. But nothing more than that; nothing about herself. It's like she is an entirely different person…"
"People change… Traumas have a way of causing that." He replied as they stopped in the shade of a large tree.
"You speak from experience?"
"Indeed, I do."
"And may I ask for more details about that particular experience?"
"You may ask… And, perhaps, someday I'll share them." He said with a smile. "Meanwhile, if I may offer an unsolicited piece of advice," Emmanuel continued, "don't let another's trauma set your path."
"I don't. But there's a lesson to be learned there."
"A lesson?"
"Men are not to be trusted with one's heart unless they offer – truly offer – their own first."
Emmanuel smiled. "Men have just as much difficulty in entrusting their hearts as women do, Señorita. They are equally fragile."
"Have you ever given your heart to someone, then? Or do you also speak from another's experience?"
"Oh, I've given my heart away many times. But only temporarily. I have never before met a woman to whom I was willing to entrust my heart forever."
"Never before? Do you mean you met one now?"
Emmanuel looked right into her eyes when he said, "I certainly hope so."
She stared at him, a doubtful look in her eyes. "And those women before? Did they know your heart was only lent to them?"
"I can assure you they knew it quite well." He answered with a smile, as they restarted walking.
"So you toyed with them."
"Oh, I'd never toy with a woman's feelings, Señorita. True, I used to get infatuated quite often in my youth; but I've never led a woman on or given her false hope."
"How can you be sure?"
"Well… Because I was always candid with the señoritas I met. And very direct, I should add. I had no plan of getting married at the time, and I always made that very clear whenever a young woman showed an interest in me." He explained. "But that was a long time ago. I'm hardly a youth anymore. In fact, I even started getting back pains, and a few white hairs, so I believe I might already be well on my way to becoming a crippled old man."
She chuckled involuntarily.
"You have the most wonderful laugh," he remarked.
The young woman nodded her acceptance of the compliment, then became pensive again.
"So, am I to understand you are no longer in the habit of romancing innocent young girls and then clarifying to them that marriage is not in the cards?"
"Certainly not."
"And why should I believe you? Aren't you, perhaps, trying to romance me right now?"
Emmanuel chuckled. "Well, firstly, I can assure you, Señorita, that the man I used to be, and who was, may I point out, far less like Don Juan than you seem to imagine, died a long time ago… A result of the traumas I mentioned earlier. Secondly, the truth is, marriage is very much in the cards right now as far as I'm concerned."
"You at least weren't exaggerating your directness." She remarked. "But how can you be certain?"
"That is hardly something I can explain, to be frank. I just know how I feel."
She shook her head. "But you don't know how I feel…"
"No… But, I do hope you'll come to share my feelings." He uttered. "Perhaps, once you'll know me better…"
She smiled, then shook her head, becoming serious. "Once I know you better? That might take a while… Besides, how can you know I haven't made up my mind about you already? That, for example, I don't hold your decision to kill those bandits against you? A good Christian doesn't kill others..."
"True." Emmanuel agreed. "And, trust me, were the times different, I would certainly avoid killing if, at all, possible. But we live in a territory that has yet to be fully settled; where bandits abound, and their crimes are of the most despicable nature. The men I killed had surely killed before, and not to protect another.
"I understand that I have committed a sin, Señorita, and my priest will make sure that I atone for it. However, had I spared their lives, they would have either ended up dangling from a noose, in front of a firing squad, or free again to continue to murder decent men and do far worse to good women."
She nodded, and, for a while, preferred silence over conversation.
"Forgive me," she eventually uttered. "I know I owe you my life, Don Emmanuel. Mine and those of my parents. I did not mean to diminish your heroism."
He accepted her apology with a shake of his head. "It's hardly heroism, though, when you have the advantage," Emmanuel said. "Still, were it not for those unfortunate events, I would not have met you."
Again she smiled as they stopped on the Missions' terrace, where her mother was anxiously waiting.
"Thank you for the walk, Señorita," Emmanuel said as he bowed to kiss her hand. "Señora, I'll see you at dinner." He continued, addressing her mother, then headed for his quarters.