The Secret of Zorro An Old Enemy Chapter One by Ella Christian @1999-2001 Contact author at EllaChristian@aol.com Chapter One What the Rain Brings The rains came suddenly. After the searing hot heat of summer, stretching as it did into the fall, even dignified Californianos were spied catching raindrops in their mouths when the heavens finally opened in mid-November. By the time of Elizabeth de la Vega's Thanksgiving dinner, attended by half-a-dozen of the finest families in the community, the landscape was turning green again. Tall grasses were rising from what had been parched earth. Waterholes were re-filled and dry gullies transformed back into creeks and streams. The Los Angeles River wetlands revived. Frogs could be heard at all hours. Turtles were spied sunning themselves in the cool, bright air on days when the sun shone. In December, it continued to rain. Preparations for the Christmas Festival were re-arranged to be held indoors, as everyone was so certain of the inclement weather. The rain poured on. At first, everyone stayed home, thinking it would pass. Finally southern Californianos realized that this could go on and on. A small industry popped up all over the lower Camino Real, as the demand for solid carriage and buggy tops rose. Most good families, including the de la Vegas, re-outfitted nearly all of their load-bearing carts, wagons and carriages with covers. Saddle shops in every community flourished. People ventured out more, but commerce diminished in general. The peons suffered, unable to conduct their meager selling in the puddle-filled and oft-drenched plaza each day. Farming ground to a halt. Indians came into town seeking work that did not exist. Vacqueros spent much of their time moving cattle from one hillside to another, seeking high ground and attempting to keep the herds off slopes that were prone to mudslides. Everything that did not wash away turned into a lush green, causing older Angelinos to worry over fires come summer. "Rain is good," Miguel Cahuenga's ancient father uttered one evening in the Tavern. "This much rain, not good." Elizabeth mourned as she watched her growing garden turn from full flower to a condition of drowning. Even Esperanza gradually grew out of sorts, as everyone around her seemed tight and grim. Her grandfather could not take her on strolls to the duck pond each morning. It upset both of them. The new year came and went. The rains stayed. Ships could not enter the harbor easily. Supplies were dwindling. No new commandante appeared. Dark rumors about Mexico taking over the governance of California swirled as furiously as the clouds overhead. Zorro was nowhere to be seen. "El Zorro hides in the rain," became a chorus of the peons. Eventually this evolved into, "El Zorro hides from the rain." Petty thefts were on the rise. Sergeant Demetrio Lopez Garcia, as acting commandante and newlywed, had his hands full. Diego tried to keep his sense of humor about the deteriorating situation, remaining at home much of the time to help with the rancho and be around his growing little daughter. He took up a project to oversee the building of a sheltered paddock next to the barn, warning his wife that once it was finished she would have no excuses about training Blanca. As time passed, however, Alejandro and Elizabeth both noticed and commented on Diego's apparent determination to stay home. "Zorro cannot take responsibility for every small theft or little crime in the pueblo," he pointed out to his father one night after Alejandro made a remark about the number of peons in the cuartel jail. "We have a military for that!" He watched over his horses and enjoyed every moment of seeing his little daughter grow. Elizabeth watched him at first with delight and then with growing concern, as the black clothes hung longer and longer unused in the secret room. He had done this the previous winter as well, but then the rain had not been so bad and there had been different reasons for him to stay home. "Truly he does not like the mud," Elizabeth remarked to her father-in-law one evening, as they watched Diego take Esperanza upstairs to be put in her bed for the night. "He warned me last winter that he did not like it, but I thought he was just finding another reason to stay in with me!" "Si," Alejandro sighed, "he likes the sunshine. But he especially stopped liking rain and mud after...." Then he stopped. Elizabeth did not pursue it, for she knew what he was going to say. ***** The good Sergeant worried aloud often about the weather, the military, and the delicacies of marriage to his best man. After the new year and despite the rain, Diego began to frequent the Tavern most evenings. "I keep hearing about Mexicans coming," he explained to his father. "But I keep watching for them and no one unusual ever appears. In fact, no one ever appears! It is like a ghost town now, with all the rain. I have never seen so much rain in my life." Sometimes Elizabeth would hand Esperanza over to a servant or to one or both of the baby's grandfathers and join Diego on the journey into the pueblo. Usually she spent her time with Clementia, at the Garcias' small, poorly-constructed house near the cuartel, while the men kept their company at table beside the bar. Their rides home usually involved comparing notes about the progress of the newlyweds in adjusting to life together. "They need a new roof," Elizabeth said to him one night as the rain and puddles sloshed their carriage wheels. "Si, that is what he has told me, too," Diego replied. "She has buckets and pans everywhere catching the water," Elizabeth continued. "They had to move their bed three feet because they were awakened one night with water dripping onto them!' Diego groaned. "She wants him to move back to Rancho Bocca with her until the rain stops but he will not do it," Elizabeth went on. "He cannot fix the roof until the rain stops long enough to tear the old one off and lay the new one," Diego remarked. "I told him they should move into the apartment behind his office but he says she will not." Elizabeth frowned. "She does not want to live in the cuartel. I do not blame her." "It is better than waking up with cold rainwater pouring into your bed!" Diego answered. "They can both be very stubborn." "Si. They are surely the only married couple on earth with that problem." Elizabeth looked up at him, to see that his eyes were glued to the horses and the muddy roadway. She sighed, sitting back and staring ahead. They were in a period of being distant and out of sorts with one another. Diego wanted her to stop nursing Esperanza. They bickered about it frequently and without resolution, at least not as far as Diego was concerned. He also wanted her to show more discipline with the fencing lessons he was trying to give her. He wanted to continue the process of turning Blanca into a superb riding horse. Elizabeth was resisting over the baby, and often found excuses to delay or cancel the fencing lessons. Of Blanca, she kept saying, "how do we break her when I cannot ride her because of this weather? You have not finished that paddock yet!" Diego viewed these as lame excuses and said as much. This only made Elizabeth dig in more. In his annoyance, Diego began to delay returning to their room with her at night, allowing time for her to fall asleep before he arrived, and leaving while she was still asleep in the morning. The pattern continued for a week, then two. Elizabeth decided to ignore him until he was the one who couldn't stand it. They were well into the third week of their impasse when he came in, perhaps a quarter of an hour after she had gone to bed. They had not seen one another that evening. He had gone into the pueblo alone. She was still awake, but drowsy, when he got into the bed with her. She felt his hand on her shoulder. "Liz," he said, scooting over beside her. "Hmmmmm," she answered. "Liz...." he said again, more softly. He kissed the back of her neck, for her back was to him. She felt his warm hand at her waist. He pulled her against him, spooning her. "Oh, Diego," she said, irritated. "Don't move, don't...." he said quickly, tightening his grip on her. "I want to go to sleep," she answered. "Sweetheart, please," he said softly, pressing against her. She turned onto her back and looked at him. "You have barely spoken to me all day and now you want..." He kissed her cheek, interrupting. "Si," he said. His lips moved down her neck. "Diego!' she said, her hands coming to his shoulders above her. He sighed and rolled away onto his back, letting go of her. "What?" he asked. She sat up, looking at him. "I do not understand you at all!" The conversation that followed escalated to the point where they awoke Esperanza in the next room, "and probably everyone else in the household," Diego pointed out. Elizabeth left to comfort their howling daughter. While she was gone, Diego lay there trying to sort out his feelings. By the time she returned, calm and silent, he realized he didn't want to deal with feelings, hers or his own, he only wanted to be lost for a few minutes in a place where pleasure overcame every other care that swirled around him. "I want to forget everything for a little while," he finally said. "I want to forget it is raining. I want to forget that we are arguing. I want to forget that the Mexicans are taking over our country. I want to forget that we have responsibilities, I want to forget that you need to be comforted and that I have to put my own needs aside for yours, I want to forget everything except what it feels like to be joined with you...that is all I want, Liz. Right now, tonight, with you..... That is what is wrong with me." For several moments nothing happened. Then to his astonishment, Elizabeth threw herself across him and began to kiss his face fervently. He spent a few seconds adjusting to what was happening, but then his arms came around her and he was kissing her back, furiously and desperately. ****** It was in the early morning, after she had awakened him in more ways than one, that Diego buried his nose in the hair at the back of Elizabeth's neck, breathing her in. "Sweet Liz," he whispered into her soft skin. He relaxed at last, feeling his beloved warm and soft beneath him. He sighed, for he could now hold her in peace for a while. At last the sun was shining. Then there was a knock on the door. "What!?" they both said, loudly and irritably. "It is Maria, I thought you would want Esperanza," came a meek voice from the other side of the door. Diego sighed and pulled away from her, grabbing for his robe. "I'll do it," he said. He went to the door and opened it. After so many days of rain, the bright sunlight was nearly blinding. "I am sorry, Don Diego, but it is 8:00 and Doņa Elizabeth likes to have Esperanza with her by then..." Maria said in her quietest voice. "It is all right, Maria," Diego said, taking his daughter from the servant's arms. Esperanza looked up into his face and smiled brightly. "Hello, little one, do you like all this sunshine?" he asked her. He nodded briefly at Maria. "We'll be down for breakfast by 9:00," he said. "Will Doņa Elizabeth want me to draw a bath for her?" Maria asked, still feeling a little timid after the irritable greeting of a few moments ago. Esperanza grabbed at Diego's ear. Elizabeth called, from the darkened bedroom, "Yes, Maria." "No, sweetheart," Diego said to his daughter, trying to readjust her as he also closed the door. He brought her in as Elizabeth sat up in the bed. "Don't go yet," he said to her, referring to the bath. "Good morning, muchacha," Elizabeth said, reaching for Esperanza. "Do you want a little breakfast from Mommie?" Diego handed her over, scowling. Their morning moment was now permanently disrupted. He watched as Elizabeth settled the baby in her lap and offered a breast, which Esperanza took eagerly and began sucking. All of his aggravation from the night before and the days before that reconstituted itself instantly. "She is too old for this!" he exclaimed, standing there with his robe half-open and looking down at them. It unsettled him completely to watch the nursing right on the heels of the lovemaking they had just done. When the baby was tiny it all made sense to him. As she grew a little older, the tenderness had sustained itself. Once she started eating solid food he began to feel impatient and uncomfortable. Now, with Esperanza at close to a year old, he could not reconcile Elizabeth's mothering with her role as his lover. "This is not a time for us to fight," Elizabeth said, softly but firmly. Her eyes were on the baby. "She is nearly a year old!" he said. "She is nearly ten months old," Elizabeth answered back. "She is still very little and she needs me." Esperanza let go of her mother and looked up at Diego standing there, her large, dark eyes looking directly into his. "You see, she isn't really interested, a few sucks and she's ready to...be entertained by me!" he exclaimed. "Then you entertain her!" Elizabeth snapped, lifting the baby back up to him. He took her and watched his wife get out of bed, pull on her robe, and head for the door. "Elizabeth..." he said, pleadingly. "Don't..." She pulled the door shut behind her as she stormed out. Diego sighed, looking at the door. He looked at Esperanza, who went for his ear again. "Ow, Ranza, don't yank on Daddy's ear..." he said, trying to pull his head away. The baby looked back at the door and seeing that her mother was not returning her mood shifted suddenly and she started to whimper. "Oh, Ranza, don't be fussy," he begged, shaking her up and down lightly. "I can't have both of you upset at the same time." The baby started to cry. Diego groaned and sat down in his chair, holding her in front of him in his lap. "Give Daddy a pretty smile, sweetheart, don't be sad. Mommie will be back, she just went to take a bath and have a little time to herself..." Esperanza looked into his face and stopped crying, her eyes wide. Diego looked into her sweet face and she smiled. "Oh, little one," he said softly. "You always know just when to break my heart. I did not count on having one female in my life who could do that with a smile, much less two." He nuzzled her nose with his, making her giggle. "Are you flirting with Daddy now?" he asked her teasingly. She grabbed at his nose. The door re-opened and he looked up to see Elizabeth standing there, lit from behind by the eastern light. She was wrapped in a huge towel but only her feet were wet. Esperanza looked around at her and squealed happily, flapping her hands and reaching. "I will make a deal with you," Elizabeth said to her husband. "Hold still, Ranza," Diego said, trying to get the baby to settle. She had risen to her feet and, with her father's hands steadying her, was bouncing on his lower thighs. "What is that?" he asked, balancing the baby in the middle of her enthusiasm. "You let me decide how long I will nurse her and I will let you decide when and how often we will train Blanca and do the fencing lessons." Diego held on as Esperanza's bouncing increased. She was nearly squeaking with delight. "My, you are having such a good time this morning, all of a sudden!" he said to her, half-laughing. He looked at Elizabeth. "You will seriously do that?" he asked. "No more excuses, even if it is raining and I say we shall work on something inside the paddock?" "I will be there," she said. He looked at Esperanza, who was still having fun. It was a compromise he neither liked nor trusted, but Elizabeth was being serious and his gut told him it was probably the best compromise they were going to find. He had a flash of remembering the moment minutes before when he had lain over her, his nose buried in her hair. "All right, then," he said. "And one other thing," she said. He sighed, looking up at her. "You will be here most nights when I go to bed and you will still be here with me in the morning when I wake up," she said. "But what if I have to go out as Zorro?" he asked. "You have not been out as Zorro on any of the nights or mornings I have been missing you for three weeks," she stated. "If you have to go out as Zorro, that is different." She put her hand on her belly. "But I could be pregnant, after last night and this morning," she said softly. "I want you with me." Diego stared at her, suddenly overwhelmed. Esperanza fell against his chest with a giggle. "I want to be with you no matter what," he said, catching the baby. "Do you?" she asked. "Yes, I do," he answered, looking straight into her face. She looked down for a moment, and then said, "Good. Now I can take my bath." Then she turned and pulled the door shut, leaving him with their bouncy, giggling daughter. ****** Aside from determining to go into the pueblo together that evening while lunching on the patio, Diego saw little of his wife that day. Elizabeth simply said, "Clementia could use a visitor, take me with you tonight," and he agreed, saying he would go to the Tavern with the Sergeant while the women visited in Casa Garcia, as it was coming to be known. Elizabeth spent most of the day in her gardens trying to coax the drenched plants into peering up at the sun. She played for a while with Esperanza on the patio. Diego saw her at one point laughing with the baby and he felt a mix of tenderness and renewed aggravation. Despite the pact they had made he was not happy with the compromise. He tried to shrug it off. They put the baby to bed together that evening and then went to the stable where a covered carriage was prepared. "But it is a moonlit night!" Diego protested, seeing the top on the carriage. Bernardo shook his head, pointing at the sky and making a showering gesture with his hand. "Oh, it is not going to rain!" Bernardo indicated that he thought that might not be the case. Diego waved at him to give up, but Elizabeth said, "Let us leave the hood on the carriage. We would surely be miserable if he proves to be right." They rode into the pueblo saying little, though Elizabeth slipped her hand onto his thigh and kept it there for most of the trip. He kissed her cheek lightly as he dropped her off in front of Clementia's little house, saying, "I will come back in a couple of hours." Then he went on to the Tavern, where he found the good sergeant already at a table. "Hello, Sergeant!" he said cheerfully, sitting down. "I just dropped Elizabeth off at your house, she is going to spend some time with your bride." Garcia looked up at him a bit mournfully. "That is good," he said. "What is the matter?" Diego asked. "You look as if it has started raining again! It is a beautiful moonlit night." "Si..." the Sergeant sighed. He waited until the waitress finished pouring Diego's wine, and then leaned over and said to his friend, "Since I got married, I have never felt so many feelings at the same time in my life, Don Diego." As if to provide emphasis, there was a flash outside and a few moments later a roll of thunder. Everyone looked at the door and a visible sinking of shoulders throughout the Tavern occurred. "I know exactly what you mean," Diego joined him in a sigh. "You mean it is not perfect between you and Doņa Elizabeth all the time?" the Sergeant asked, a little incredulous. "Perfect!?" Diego nearly barked. Then he took a breath and tried to calm himself. "We are both only human," he said. They were quiet for a moment and then Garcia said, "I am trying to maintain discipline in the cuartel." "Si," Diego agreed, for he had seen the effort, by now largely delegated to Corporal Reyes, to continue the daily marching drills that the now-departed Capitan Vilaro instituted. "And it is good for the lancers." "And I am trying to keep our house dry," the Sergeant continued. He looked out the window and said, "I hope we do not have a lot more rain tonight." Another flash of lightning replied to him. "It is a nice house, except perhaps for the roof," Diego commented. The Sergeant sighed heavily again. "And I am...do you know how big an adjustment marriage is, Don Diego? I feel that all I do is adjust." "There is a lot of that," Diego nodded in agreement. He pulled a pair of cigars from his pocket and offered one to the Sergeant. "She is the most wonderful person on earth," Garcia reflected, accepting the cigar. "I am glad you think so." "But living with her...." the Sergeant trailed off for a moment, and then continued, "She is not a large person, but she takes up a lot of room." Diego nodded, lighting his friend's cigar and then his own. "It begins with the closet," he said, the cigar clenched between his teeth as his hands were busy with matches. "Oh, si, the closet," Garcia agreed, taking a puff from his cigar. "I have never seen so many clothes in my life. All kinds of clothes." He eyed Diego. "Why do they have so many different kinds of clothes? Clothes that require closets and trunks and drawers and big round boxes and tiny little square boxes and...." Diego shrugged interrupting with, "They are women and that is how things are." "So, you live with this too?" "Oh, si," Diego said. "Elizabeth came to Los Angeles with only one trunk, which is now in our bedroom. She also has two of her own closets, she takes up all four of the drawers in one dresser and two in the other, and the things she keeps in the room with the bath I cannot even tell you. We have only been married a year and a half, I cannot imagine how much room she will need for everything by the time we have had ten years together." "Ten years...?" the Sergeant echoed, having never imagined what it would be like to live with someone else, much less Clementia Bocca Garcia, for that long. "I have had three uniforms in ten years." Diego reflected for a moment. What would it be like, ten years from now, with Elizabeth? Esperanza would be nine years old. Would they have other children? Had their intense and furious passion the previous night assured that? Would his beloved still be so beautiful and so utterly impossible? And, he wondered, would there be, by then, any need whatsoever for Zorro, or would the Mexican government have stabilized things to the point where peace prevailed in California? He shook his head. "It is hard to imagine things, ten years from now," he said. "I cannot imagine what might happen tonight," the Sergeant said, bringing things instantly back to the present. "Except that I think it is going to start raining again." Corporal Reyes came in the door, saw the Sergeant and came over to the table. "It has started raining again," he said with sorrow. "Join us, then, Corporal, and have some wine to warm yourself," Diego said. "Thank you, Don Diego," the corporal replied, sitting down. They were quiet again for a moment. "The mud was just beginning to dry," he added. ****** On a dark road some miles away to the west, a horse's hooves pounded through mud and puddles in an easy canter. His rider was heavily shrouded in a dark cape, a black hat on his head, a scarf wrapped around his face so that only his nose and eyes were visible to any poor soul walking on the road in the darkness. The horse, with its arched plume of a tail and spectacular gait, was one with his rider. They reached a rocky crossroad, and there encountered, through near collision and no fault, a covered buggy driven by Father Felipe. With him was his frequent companion, the little boy Rufino. The padre yanked his horses to a halt just as the rider did the same, inches apart. "Are you all right," the padre called out into the darkness. "Si," came the reply. "It is a very bad intersection," the padre said. He looked at the horse and felt a strange feeling in his belly. "Si," the man on the horse again agreed. Then a flash of lightning erupted, and Padre Felipe got a short but dazzling glimpse of the horse and the upper half of the rider's face. The eyes of the rider and the Padre met. The lightning barely ended when a crash of thunder began, and the horse reared up slightly on his hind legs. Then his rider gouged the horse's sides and they continued, taking the road to the east towards the pueblo. Father Felipe noticed that the rider wore a long sheath and sword. "Madre de Jesus!" the Padre exclaimed softly. "It is only lightning and thunder, Padre," Rufino piped. "Si, Rufino, I know it is lightning and thunder, but what the lightning revealed, we do not need in Los Angeles." "Who was that man? He was very good on that horse. Did you recognize him?" "Si, Rufino, I believe that I did," the padre replied thoughtfully. He flicked the reins to get the horses moving again. "Let us continue our journey to San Pedro, my son. I am sure I will hear more tomorrow about the rider on the great white horse." ***** Elizabeth and Clementia started their evening together with hot tea brewed on Clementia's stove by her servant girl Bonita. As part of the wedding and dowry arrangement, Bonita was placed with the Garcia household by Francisco Bocca. Since the home was modest, she continued to live at Rancho Bocca but made the daily journey into the pueblo to help Clementia with cooking, housecleaning, and, as it turned out, staving off the leaks throughout the house. Because of the terrible weather she was spending many nights in the pueblo, in the Garcia's tiny stable behind the house. "The stable is drier than the house," was Clementia's comment to Elizabeth as Bonita excused herself after serving the tea. "It is not raining inside right now," Elizabeth said helpfully. A flash of lightning flickered through the windows. "Oh, dear," she said. "I think the roof will be all right tonight, Demetrio had the lancers add more covering today," Clementia said. "I warned Diego it might start raining again, he would not hear of it," Elizabeth said, sipping her tea. "Oooo, this is still too hot!" "Men do not listen to us," Clementia said. "That is true," Elizabeth agreed. "But Diego is an exception!" Clementia added. Elizabeth looked at her friend flatly. Clementia perked up at the prospect of gaining new information about the seemingly-perfect state of her friend's marriage. "Oh, tell me, have you had a fight?" Normally Elizabeth confided details about her relationship with Diego to no one, saving them for her long walks with her mother's spirit. Aside from her own sense of privacy, she knew too well how people talked, and she did not want to say anything that might inadvertently reveal information that could point to Diego's secret identity. Diego never had to admonish her about this; she understood it instinctively from the day he revealed himself as El Zorro. But on this night she needed some kind of support from a friend, and Clementia was always willing to listen. "It is not an easy time for us," she confessed. "The rain makes Diego stubborn and puts him into a bad mood. He is bossing me around and trying to tell me what to do all the time." "How?" Clementia asked. "He wants me to stop nursing Esperanza!" Elizabeth blurted. "And I love nursing her, I do not want to stop! It hurts if I go for too long without her!" "He should let you do that for as long as you want to," Clementia said firmly. "That is what I say to him, but he doesn't listen! And he wants me to help train Blanca, and learn to fe...." she stopped cold. "Learn to what?" Clementia asked. "Learn to....feed the animals!" Elizabeth said desperately. It was all she could think of that started with 'f.' "Feed the animals!?" Clementia repeated. "You cannot be serious! Don't your servants do that?!" "Si, of course they do," Elizabeth said, "But Diego feels I should know how it all works. He says 'if something should happen to Father and me, you need to know how the rancho operates.'" She knew this was lame but she could not think of anything else. "That is very strange," Clementia said. "You have vaqueros and others who take care of all of that. And why would he be talking as if something were going to happen? Don Alejandro is in good health, and Diego is 27 years old, he is not going to drop dead!" She shook her head. "I wonder what has gotten into him?" She leaned towards her friend conspiratorially. "It does not have to do with El Zorro, does it?" she asked. "El Zorro!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "Why would you ask that?! No one has seen El Zorro since your wedding!" Clementia looked into her friend's eyes. No matter how she tried to trick or wheedle it out, Elizabeth had never confided in her about her old relationship with the bandito. "Not even you?" she asked. "No!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "Especially not me! He...he stays away from me!" She suddenly felt tearful. She had nearly made a terrible mistake, and Zorro was gone, and Diego was impossible, and her breasts ached. "I cannot talk about this," she said, tearing up. "Oh, Elizabeth," Clementia said sympathetically, offering her friend a napkin. "It will work out, Diego will not be so difficult all the time. You seemed so happy together this fall, you had your lovely time up at the cabin together, and you were so wonderful together at our wedding, and your Thanksgiving dinner was so lovely. It is only since the new year that we have not seen much of you, so things cannot have gone wrong for very long...." "No," Elizabeth sniffed, "this rain has kept us at home but it has not made us closer the way the rains last winter made us closer..." she began crying. "Oh, Clementia, I thought I was coming over here to comfort you about your roof and instead I am putting all my troubles out on the table." Clementia took her hand. "It is all right, that is why we are friends. You listen to my troubles all the time, and you have helped in my marriage....it is only right for me to listen to you sometimes." "But you always ask me about Zorro!" Elizabeth cried. Clementia paused, not realizing how persistent she had been. "I am sorry, Elizabeth. I know it is none of my business." "There is no business to have none of!" Elizabeth bawled. "He did not even dance with me at your wedding, he chose Lupe!" Clementia's eyes widened. Everyone had noticed Zorro's choice, but Elizabeth's warm response as she watched the masked man dance with the lovely teenager had given no hint that she was wounded that her old admirer...and rumored lover...had passed her by. Elizabeth was now sobbing into her napkin. All the tension of the past several weeks was crashing in on her at this unexpected moment and she was not with someone she could be open with, which only made the tension escalate. Another flash of lightning, followed by a fierce clap of thunder, exploded. Both of them nearly jumped out of their skin. "That was close!" Clementia said, getting up to peer out the window. A drop of rain splatted against the glass, then another. "Here it comes." She looked back at her friend, and then leaned over to hug her where she sat in tears. "It will be all right," she said soothingly. "Diego will come to his senses." She giggled. "Perhaps you need to visit paradise a little more often. It always helps us, when we are upset with one another." "Visiting paradise does not fix everything!" Elizabeth wailed. "Not when you have been married for over a year and you have a baby and you have a stubborn husband and it rains all the time!" Clementia was both taken aback and secretly delighted. She had never seen Elizabeth like this. She had no idea her friend could break down so entirely, nor that the marriage with Diego was anything but picture-perfect. She sat down again, scooting her chair around next to Elizabeth's and putting her hand over her friend's. "Diego loves you very much, you know that," she said. "I do know that," Elizabeth sobbed. "And he loves Esperanza, he is a wonderful father." "Si, he loves her...but she has changed everything for us, and he is....I think he is jealous of her because I pay so much attention to her. But she is a baby! She is just a little helpless baby and she cannot take care of herself, and I am the one who is with her most of the time, Diego is always off....doing something! Something with the horses or the servants or Alejandro or, or, Bernardo. Sometimes he does not come home until after I am asleep and he leaves before I wake up, and..." she continued sobbing, unable to go on. "Demetrio is gone a lot, too," Clementia murmured, trying to comfort Elizabeth. "But he always comes home to me." "But you are newlyweds, he has a lot of motivation for coming home!" Elizabeth wept. "You are still new to one another. I am like potato soup to him now." "Oh, Elizabeth, I do not believe that," Clementia chided her. "You do not always see the way he looks at you when you come into a room." Elizabeth slowed down her crying. "What do you mean?" she asked. "He just....I do not know if I can describe it. He changes. He relaxes. And there is something else, I cannot say if it is pride, or enchantment...or...somehow he becomes more of a man. He stands a little taller and he gets this look on his face..." she shook her head. "He has always been that way around you, even when he was courting you. We all noticed it. And after you were married....Diego has always been a friendly, easy-going man, but since he came back from Spain there was always a kind of reserve to him, he was always light and yet guarded. Now he is more open, he is...happy. And when he is with you and Esperanza, he seems like the happiest man on earth." "He does?" Elizabeth said, wiping her eyes with the soaked napkin. "He still does?" "Si, he does," Clementia smiled at her. "I miss him," Elizabeth said, fighting another sob. "He has not left you, he is just over in the Tavern....perhaps we should go over and sit with him and Demetrio, so they will talk with us and not just talk about Mexico and politics all evening long. We can race over there and not get too wet." Elizabeth looked outside. "It is raining hard." "We do not have far to go!" "Let's finish our tea first. I am such a mess, I do not want him to see that I have been crying." Clementia patted her hand. "We can sit here for as long as you like," she said. "I am only sorry you have not brought Esperanza to see me, too. I miss playing with her." The thunder rose again. Clementia went back to the window. "What a night," she said. "Si," Elizabeth agreed. ****** Close to an hour passed. The thunder and lightning ceased, but the rain continued without letting up. Diego and the Sergeant, along with Corporal Reyes and several other men, started a friendly card game and took up a few more bottles of wine. They finished a hand and Diego declared that it was time for a break, pulling out a new cigar. "Sometimes I like the rain," Garcia said thoughtfully. "Except when it is falling in my bed, of course." He took a puff of the cigar Diego had just lit for him. "This morning we had a little turtle on our porch. I think it is going to live there for the rest of the winter, if my seņora has her way. It is always a mystery, what the rain brings." It was just as he was lighting up his own cigar that Diego felt the Tavern door open behind him. Rain and a cold wind blew in as a tall, heavily-blanketed stranger entered, yanking the door shut behind him. He was so shrouded in covering that it was impossible to see his face. Without even turning around, Diego heard the footstep and felt the hair on his neck rise. He took the cigar slowly out of his mouth and turned around very slowly. As he turned he caught Sergeant Garcia's eye, to see the soldier's mouth agape. By the time Diego had turned completely, the stranger was already at the bar, his back to everyone else. He looked at the Sergeant, who nodded at Diego. "It is him," he whispered. The Tavern door opened again, and the Sergeant's eyes widened again. He jumped to his feet immediately. Diego turned and was on his feet in an instant too, for Clementia and Elizabeth were more or less tumbling in, pushed by the rain and wind. Both men had the same reaction to the situation, each reaching for his respective mate and trying to push her back out the door. In seconds all four of them were standing outside in on the porch of the Tavern, rain flying sideways at them. "We want to get in out of the rain!" Clementia exclaimed. "Diego, let go of me, you are hurting my arm!" Elizabeth cried, trying to yank herself away from him. "We are going home!" Sergeant Garcia stated, and hustled his wife in the direction of Casa Garcia. Diego kept his grip on Elizabeth's arm above her elbow, steering her through the mud towards the town stable. "What are you doing?!" she protested. "Diego!" He did not say a word until they were inside the stable and he had her beside the carriage. "Do not argue with me," he said. "Get in the carriage, we are going home." "This is not..." she started, again trying to pull away from him. Then he did something he had never done before. His hands came to both of her upper arms and he gave her a shake. "Get in the buggy! Now!" he commanded. Elizabeth froze, staring at him. "Go on!" he instructed, lifting her elbow to help her up. She turned and got into the carriage, speechless. He jumped in, stepping over her, and clicked at the horses. In no time they were on the muddied road out of the pueblo and on the way home.