The Secret of Zorro
The Kitten and the Fox
Prelude through Chapter Two
by Ella Christian @1999-2001
Contact author at EllaChristian@aol.com

Prelude

He was feeling... restless. California spring. All the new beginnings. As his palomino gelding, Apache, cantered towards the pueblo of Los Angeles, Diego de la Vega breathed in the sweet, soft air and wondered what lay ahead. Oh, he knew what immediately lay ahead: finding his father in town, alerting him that Diego would have to leave for a few days, returning to Rancho de la Vega to disappear into the back passages of the house, and emerging as darkness fell for a mission as El Zorro. Yes, he knew that. 

The horse's gait rocked beneath him. He tried to sort out the day, and why he felt so strange. 

He felt... rested. He had gotten a rare full night's sleep the night before. Perhaps that was the source of the restlessness -- for once he was not tired. The morning had been uncharacteristically quiet. Nearly everyone involved in the household life was gone on various errands, thus Diego had spent his morning hours alone, first in the hacienda courtyard with his coffee and later in the stable checking his horses. 

It was then that his mute manservant, Bernardo, arrived with news from the pueblo: three innocent men were jailed in the presidio in Santa Barbara, accused of a theft almost certainly engineered by a new outlaw in Southern California, known locally as "Diablo."

Bernardo had made the sign of the "Z" questioningly after his gestured tale to his master, and as he had a hundred times before, Diego nodded, adding, "tonight." They agreed to ride together after nightfall.

Now, as he rode to the east from their rancho to find his father, Diego was at ease and at the same time feeling agitated. Going to Santa Barbara would be a welcome change, even if it were for a relatively easy purpose. He did not expect major resistance there. Zorro's appearances in Santa Barbara were so rare that when he did show up there was a tendency for the waters to part. Even the lancers there practically removed their hats and saluted when El Zorro bounded into view. It helped that the commandante of the presidio was a particular fan of Zorro's, thanks to a good deed the Fox had performed the year prior when he saved the commandante's wife from a wildcat. Thus the commandante discouraged his men from taking the 2,000 peso price on El Zorro's head too seriously. 

Diego shook his head and laughed to himself. It was starting to get ridiculous. Was it time to give it up? Was that where this restlessness he couldn't shake was coming from? Life was becoming laced with predictability, despite his frequent escapades and good deeds as El Zorro. The secret of his dual identity was intact. Only Bernardo and his father knew. It seemed miraculous that the secret had held for four years despite numerous close calls, a few right guesses that had been laughed away, more danger than he could catalogue, and one reckless liaison that easily might have cost him not only his secret identity, but also his dignity and his bachelorhood. Was this the moment to stop? To quit while he was ahead?

He did not allow himself much reflection on this sort of thing. The truth was that most of the time such contemplation didn't much interest him. He preferred to be in motion with something. Zorro's work was not finished, he knew. This outlaw Diablo smelled like trouble. The hold of the Spanish empire on California was increasingly feeble, even as the Mexicans increased their pressure to make California a territory of their own. The dons with land grants in Alta California were deeply wary. Many were behaving badly out of panic to protect their holdings. It was not a safe or an easy time. If things were becoming oddly predictable in his double life, Diego knew none-the-less that a great deal of fear and uncertainty characterized the society. 

He shook his head and laughed again, this time rather ruefully, to himself. When he created Zorro four years earlier, he hardly foresaw the day when his alter ego would represent, of all things, a symbol of justice and stability in a fragile world. But then, he thought to himself, who could have foreseen any of this? Every day might offer up a new world.

He took another deep breath of the spring air, and looked about as he approached the pueblo walls. It was Eden, this place where the mountains and desert and sea all met, where the sunshine ravished the landscape in a daily sweet embrace...

And then he laughed yet again, finding his inner poetics replaced by the sight of the rotund Sergeant Garcia, Los Angeles's acting commandante, strolling into the town square. Time enough for wondering. 



Chapter One - Hodi Mihi, Cras Tibi

1819. The Pueblo of Los Angeles, Spanish California.

Diego de la Vega rode into the town plaza on a warm spring afternoon. He spied Sgt. Garcia, acting commandante of the Pueblo, coming out of the Tavern.

"Sergeant, have you seen my father?" De La Vega asked.

"Si, Don Diego, he is in here," came the reply.

Tying his horse to a post, the young man entered the tavern crossing a threshhold greater than he could have imagined. He looked around to find his father at a table with an older man and a younger woman. The man had elegant silver hair and was finely-dressed. The woman, whose dark brown hair was shot through with coppery streaks, wore a dark blue dress. She was, he guessed, in her early twenties. 

Don Alejandro saw Diego and motioned him to come, making introductions. "Carlos, this is my son Diego de la Vega. Diego, Don Carlos Matteo and his daughter, Elizabeth."

Diego bowed to Matteo, and then his dark eyes met the eyes of Elizabeth. They were the color of the sea on a windy day of changing light, blended grey and blue, a hint of green. His heart began to pound and for a moment he could not break away. Then he took her hand lightly and kissed it. "Welcome to Los Angeles," he said. She was simply staring back at him, her lips parted slightly. 

"My daughter grew up in Boston," her father was saying. "I represented the king at the Spanish consulate there."

"Ah, the Matteo family has a long tradition of diplomatic work on the Crown's behalf," Diego said, pulling himself together. "I read of your grandfather's efforts in France during my studies in Madrid." 

"Ah, you studied in Madrid?" Matteo said, looking pleased.

"Si, my son spent three years at the University," Alejandro said. "He has been back to California for four years now."

"And your wife?" Diego asked, looking around.

"My mother is dead," Elizabeth said, speaking Spanish with a slight American accent.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Diego said, his eyes reverting to the girl. His heart started pounding again.

"She was a fine woman," Don Carlos sighed. "After she died last year, I decided to come here to California so we could live again under the Spanish flag. My daughter does not want to return to Spain."

"That is California's good fortune," Diego said. He couldn't take his eyes off of Elizabeth. 

"I have invited Don Carlos and Elizabeth to stay at our hacienda until they find their own, Diego," said Don Alejandro. "They will come this evening."

"More good fortune, on the house of de la Vega," Diego smiled, again recovering himself. "We welcome you." He looked then at his father and said, "I need to speak with you a moment, it's urgent." To the Matteos he said, "will you excuse us?" He bowed, and he and Alejandro stepped aside.

"I must leave for a day or two," Diego said quietly. 

"But I have just invited these people!" Alejandro protested.

"They can get settled in without me," Diego said. Lowering his voice further, he continued, "It is business that Zorro needs to take care of in Santa Barbara. Three men are jailed there who are accused of crimes the bandit Diablo committed. I hope to return by tomorrow evening."

"Zorro," Alejandro repeated. "Well, I am sure you would not go if you did not feel it was necessary. Please return as soon as you can."

Diego looked over at Elizabeth, then looked back at his father and said, "I will."

Alejandro smiled. "Ah, so there may be a new reason to stay more often in Los Angeles?"

Diego smiled back. "Perhaps." His eyes flew back to Elizabeth. "I shall return early, if I can. Adios, Father."

"Diego..." Alejandro added, "be careful."

"Si, father. Bernardo will join me, in case there's more trouble than I imagine." With that, Diego nodded across the room at Bernardo, his silent manservant, who got off his barstool and walked over to Diego.

Diego bowed again to the Matteos, saying "con permisso," and departed, Bernardo accompanying him. Don Alejandro returned to his seat with the newcomers.

"Your son didn't stay long, Alejandro," said Don Carlos. "Did we give him some offense?"

"Oh, no, of course not," Alejandro replied. "He just has to hurry up the coast on some business. He'll be back in a day or two. By the time he returns, you will be settled at our hacienda, and he can show you our rancho. Do you ride, Senorita Elizabeth? Diego has some beautiful horses in our stable."

"Yes, I do ride," she answered. She looked around the room, and at the doorway through which Diego had passed. "So your son is a horseman, Don Alejandro?" she asked. 

"Si, a fine caballero," Alejandro answered.

"Then he will enjoy riding with Elizabeth," said Don Carlos. "I daresay there's not another woman in Los Angeles who can match her on a horse."

"Diego will like that," Alejandro replied. "He is always in search of good riding companions." 

"Don Alejandro, who was that small man who left with Don Diego?" Elizabeth asked.

"Oh, that is his servant, Bernardo. He is deaf and mute, but very devoted to my son. Diego rarely travels without him."

Elizabeth nodded. "And who was the fat man in the uniform? He introduced himself to us earlier."

"Ah," smiled Don Alejandro, "that is our acting commandante, Sergeant Garcia. He means well."

"He went through our luggage when we arrived!" Carlos said.

"Si, along with the little corporal with the big moustache," Elizabeth added. "They were very funny, the two of them. I think they were embarrassed, going through my things!" 

Alejandro smiled, imagining what the two soldiers might have encountered among Elizabeth's personal belongings. "Sometimes they have a hard job," he said to her, with a wink. 

Elizabeth smiled back at him, and then looked at her father. "I think I will like Los Angeles," she said.

***

The Matteos spent the evening and the next day moving their trunks and settling into their rooms at the de la Vega residence, a fine hacienda on the largest rancho in southern California, located a few miles north and west of the pueblo. After dinner on their second night, Alejandro and Carlos retired to the courtyard for cigars and Spanish port. Diego had not yet returned from his journey. Elizabeth wandered away from the older men, through the courtyard and beyond the walls into the open, silent, moonlit road. The night was cool and sweet, she could smell flowers and sea in the air. She walked west towards the last shimmer of light in the sky, and discovered the remains of what she could see had once been a beautiful garden beyond the stables at the foot of a grassy hill. 

Beyond the garden, the road took a fork and Elizabeth continued walking on the west branch. She walked for some time, breathing in the soft air and feeling a sense of wonder at the vast, empty landscape with its craggy hills and a sky of bright emerging stars. She was nearing the top of a hill when, ahead of her, she heard the pounding of a horse's hooves. Before she could move, the horse appeared, running hard straight at her. It was only the quick-thinking rider who forced a swerve that avoided a head-on collision but none-the-less knocked Elizabeth down. She sat there a moment, as the horse was yanked to a halt and spun around. It came back towards her, a great black horse breathing hard, a man dressed in black from head to foot on its back. He leapt off the horse and bent down over her, asking,

"Are you all right, Senorita?"

She gasped, for his black garb included a black mask over his eyes, a black caballero hat, and a black satin cape draped around his shoulders. A long sword was sheathed at his side. She tried to scramble away from him, but he offered his hand to her and the gesture was so open that she stopped and just stared up at him. Then she slowly reached up and took his hand, and he pulled her to her feet. He was strong, yet she sensed gentleness in his touch. Finding her footing, she was very close to him. She pushed him away. This made him stand back and laugh, flashing white teeth. Behind his mask she could see his dark eyes taking her in from head to toe. Then he said, "I trust you are all right. I am sorry to have knocked you down, but I hardly expected a woman walking alone on this road at this hour. Don't you know it isn't safe to be out here like this? There are bandits everywhere."

"Bandits such as you, I suppose," she said. "Are you going to rob me?"

"Oh, no, senorita," he laughed. "You are quite safe with me."

"Then why do you ride at night dressed in black, and hidden behind that mask?" she asked.

"Sometimes," he said, "justice requires a disguise." He whistled, and the black horse bounded over to him. 

He looked her over again. "Truly, you are not safe on this road at night," he said.

She looked west. "I wanted to see the ocean," she said.

"Ah," he replied. "That is a longer walk than you can take in one night, Senorita. It takes a half day's ride on a good horse to reach the ocean from here." He mounted his horse and offered his hand. "I can take you some of the way back, depending on where you are going."

The horse fidgeted slightly. 

She stared up at him. "How do I know you won't kidnap me and keep me a prisoner in some cave in the hills?" she asked.

He laughed, continuing to hold out his hand. "You don't!" he answered. "All you have is the word of El Zorro."

"El Zorro?" she repeated. "The Fox," she said in English.

He laughed again, and grabbing her hand he pulled her up onto his horse, in front of him. "Ah, Senorita, even if you did not have an accent I would know you must be from far away, if you do not know Zorro. Tell me where you are staying." 

She tried to settle in front of him in the saddle, feeling his chest pressing into her back.

"At the de la Vega hacienda," she answered, sitting rather stiffly.

"Relax, Senorita," he said softly. "It's easier on you and on the horse."

Bristling slightly, for she knew quite well how to ride, she let herself slide into the rhythm of the horse's movement, and thus into his chest and shoulders behind her. They rode for several minutes in silence. 

"Why did you want to see the ocean?" he asked her. She felt the heat of his breath on her cheek, his warmth radiating into her back, the leather saddle beneath her.

"I have always lived near the sea," she said, "and I miss it."

"We are not so far inland," he said. "The marine fogs reach well past the pueblo in the spring and summer, you will see."

"But I am accustomed to being right at the water," she said. "This is all land and hills...it is..." she searched for the word, and then said "desert."

"Si," he laughed, "it can be dry. But the rainy season is just finishing now, we may have one or two more great storms from the sea. The desert flowers bloom, and the air smells like perfume." As he said this he pressed his knees into the horse's ribs and it began to trot, forcing Elizabeth to lean even more into his chest. She felt his left forearm come around her, his hand curling around her small waist, steadying her and holding her more closely.

"Senor..." she began to protest, but as he drew her closer she stopped. His warmth was like nothing she had ever felt. She felt safe, and protected. And aroused. In spite of herself, she relaxed more and let him hold her.

He slowed the horse to a walk. "Si?" he asked, his lips not quite touching her ear.

The black horse stopped suddenly, and Zorro clapped his gloved hand over Elizabeth's mouth. Startled and suddenly frightened, she heard horses ahead, and Sergeant Garcia's voice instructing his lancers to keep in line. She could see the flickering torches at the de la Vega rancho in the distance.

"This is where we must part company, Senorita," Zorro whispered in her ear. "You are near your destination and Sgt Garcia will see you the rest of the way home." He lifted her and slid her off the horse, and the animal pranced backwards and rose up on its hind legs.

"Adios!" he said, with a wave. His horse rose on its hind legs as he waved, his smile again flashing. With that, he galloped off, just as Garcia and his men arrived. She stared after him. 

"Zorro!" Garcia cried, pointing after the horse and rider. "After him, lancers!" he cried. The others galloped off in pursuit, while Garcia climbed lumberously off his horse and said, "Senorita Elizabeth, are you all right? Did Zorro do you any harm? Did he kidnap you?"

"I'm fine Sergeant," she said, watching as the black horse disappeared over the next rise, running like the wind. "He did not..." she paused. "I was out for a walk and he captured me, but you have saved me."

"Zorro did kidnap you!" Garcia exclaimed. He thought about what she had said. "But I did, I saved you! From Zorro!" He smiled with delight at his own good deed, and then said, "Senorita Elizabeth, I must see you back to Don Alejandro's hacienda. How did Zorro capture you?" He dismounted.

They began walking back to the hacienda. "I was alone on the road and he knocked me over," she said, "because he was riding his horse so fast. Then he put me on the horse with him and was carrying me when you and your lancers came. Do you think they will catch him? What will they do with him?"

"Oh, he is very hard to capture. He has the fastest horse in California and the blade of his sword is very..." Garcia gulped, "sharp. And he is wily. That is why we call him El Zorro." He peered over at her. "But he did not harm you, in any way?"

"He did not have time, Sergeant, thanks to you and your men." She paused, and then added, "I cannot think what might have happened if you had not been out on patrol."

"Oh, senorita, I cannot think of it either!" Garcia said, trying to think about it. He frowned. "It is not like Zorro to kidnap a woman," he said. "He is an outlaw, and he causes a great deal of mischief, although sometimes he is very helpful. This is most unusual, kidnapping a woman! I must increase my patrols. Well, here we are at Don Alejandro's gates. You must never wander out alone again, Senorita."

"I have learned my lesson, Sergeant," she said. "Thank you again for saving me." She watched as he rode away, and then looked back up the road to where Zorro had dropped her to the ground. Where had he gone, she wondered.

***

The next morning, all of Los Angeles pueblo was buzzing with the news of Zorro's kidnapping of Elizabeth Matteo and the dramatic rescue provided by Sgt Garcia and his lancers, who gave valiant chase but failed in their pursuit of the fox. When Diego entered the pueblo on business in the morning, he was greeted by the shopkeeper who said, "Don Diego, is Senorita Elizabeth all right?"

"I didn't see her this morning," he answered, "but I have no reason to think that she isn't. Why do you ask?"

"Surely you have heard! She was kidnapped by Zorro last night and it was only Sgt Garcia's rescue that saved her from certain...doom!"

Diego let this sink in for a moment. "Zorro kidnapped her?" he repeated.

"Si, Don Diego. On your road, to the west of your hacienda. How do you not know this, it happened last night!"

"I have been out of town, amigo," he replied. "I just returned this morning and see I have missed a lot of excitement. Excuse me, but I need to see Sgt Garcia."

"All right, Don Diego, but be careful! Zorro is becoming strange, and dangerous. This happened on your road!"

Diego strode across the plaza to the garrison and found the sergeant sitting under a pepper tree directing some lancers who were washing their horses.

"Ah, Don Diego!" he said. "We are cleaning our horses after a great chase with Zorro last night."

"I see," said Diego. "Sergeant, is it true that you rescued Senorita Elizabeth from Zorro?"

"Si, Don Diego, si. If it weren't for me, who can think what might have happened to that lovely girl last night?"

"Did she tell you that Zorro kidnapped her?" Diego asked. "Because that does not sound like Zorro."

"That is what I said, Don Diego, that is exactly what I said. I said, 'that does not sound like Zorro.' But it's true! I saw him with my own eyes, he had her on his horse and threw her off only when we arrived."

"He threw her off his horse?" Diego repeated. "That does not sound like Zorro, either."

"Well, pushed her off, dropped her off..." the sergeant retreated. Then he regained his puff and added, "The poor girl was very shaken. I escourted her back to your father's house myself. I think that this time Zorro has gone too far."

"If what you say is true, I agree," Diego said. "Thank you, sergeant. I must return home."

***

Diego arrived at his front gate to be confronted by his father. 

"Diego!" Alejandro cried. "What happened on the road last night! What did you do to that girl?"

Shushing him, Diego looked around and said, "Father, I swear to you, it is nothing like what is being said." He looked around again to make sure they were alone, and saw only Bernardo watering plants in the courtyard. He continued, "I was returning from Santa Barbara and found her walking alone on the road."

"You knocked her over!" Alejandro exclaimed.

"Not on purpose!" Diego cried, "I didn't see her until I was nearly on top of her! She had that dark dress on..." He tried to regain his composure. "I picked her up on Tornado to bring her back here. We were almost here when I heard Sgt Garcia's patrol, so I dropped her back down and gave the lancers a good chase. But we talked while we rode. She wasn't afraid."

"Perhaps she hid her fear, Diego," his father said. "She was quite withdrawn this morning. She would barely talk about what happened."

"I tell you, she wasn't afraid," Diego insisted, unaccustomed to defending himself to his father.

"Well, I don't know what to believe," Don Alejandro said. "This time I think Zorro..."

"...has gone too far," Diego finished with him, watching his father walk away in a huff.

Diego saw Bernardo approaching, and said, "What it is?"

Bernardo waved with some annoyance and walked on.

"Not you, too!" Diego said. "Bernardo!"

His servant walked into the house. Diego leaned against the wall and muttered to himself, "I need to find that girl."

He found Elizabeth in the stables, admiring the horses. She wore a white blouse and brown riding skirt, her deep chestnut hair tumbling down on her shoulders. 

"Senorita," he said. "I've been looking for you."

"Diego!" she answered. "You're back from your journey. I hope it was a success." Her eyes sparkled as she spoke to him, blue-green waves rising in sunlight.

"That remains to be seen," he said, his annoyance with her suddenly melting. "But yes, I returned only this morning. You like the horses, yes?"

"They are very beautiful," she said. "Your father told me you would take me out for a ride soon."

"Would you like that?" he asked. "We can go this afternoon. Before sunset, of course."

"Of course," she smiled. "I have learned that going out after sunset is very dangerous here."

"So I gather," he answered. "But you are all right? Zorro did not harm you?"

"He did not have time," she answered. "I do not know what would have happened if Sgt Garcia and his men..."

"...had not come along," Diego said with her, nodding. "But...did he threaten you, or force anything with you?"

She cocked her head. "Why do you ask so many questions, does Zorro interest you so much?"

"Of course he interests me," Diego replied. "He interests everyone. No one knows who he is or where he comes from, he appears from nowhere and disappears..." he snapped his fingers, "like that. And he is a brave, skilled swordsman. We do not take him lightly here. But, I have never heard of him kidnapping an innocent woman. How would he know you would be on that road last night?"

She shrugged. "I do not think he did," she said, "but once he found me..." She stopped, thinking again about his flashing teeth as he laughed, his dark eyes behind the mask, the strength of his arm as he lifted her onto the black horse, the feel of his chest at her back, his breath in her hair.

"Senorita?" Diego said "You were saying?"

"I cannot speak of it," she said, shaking her head. Suddenly she couldn't get her breath.

"I see," said Diego quietly. "Well, I am sorry he frightened you, and I am glad you are all right. Shall we ride at 3:00?"

"Yes, three o'clock," she nodded. "Diego?"

"Si?"

"Have you...ever met Zorro?"

Diego paused. "Well...." he said, "I've certainly seen him."

"He has a certain...charm," Elizabeth said.

"Charm?" he shook his head and laughed. "He does seem to have that affect on women."

"I wonder what he is really like," Elizabeth said. "I thought perhaps if you had met him, you could tell me."

"Oh, I don't know, Senorita," he replied. "I suspect he is just a man like most other men, underneath his mask."

"Do you think so?" she asked. "Then why did I hear from your servants that they sing songs about him?"

"Because he does such daring deeds, I suppose," Diego replied. 

"Then," she said, "he is more than a man like other men."

***

Diego kept to himself until it was time to return to the stables, thinking over his own recollection of the evening before and losing himself more than once in the memories of the smell of her hair and the way the moonlight polished its coppery color, her soft accent, the feel of her back pressed against him. Those pale, mysterious eyes staring up at him as she sat on the road. He had wanted to wrap his arms around her and bury his lips in her neck as they rode on the horse, but of course he did not. She wasn't afraid as they rode, he knew it. But why was she now telling everyone it had been a kidnapping? His exasperation mounted, fueled further by the fact that he could not confront her over it. Zorro was suddenly an even bigger inconvenience than usual.

At three, he already had two horses saddled when she arrived looking fresh and excited. She mounted the grey mare he had chosen for her confidently. 

"What is her name?" Elizabeth asked.

"We call her Cloud Dancer," Diego answered. "And this is Apache," he said as he mounted his palomino gelding. "You look at home on a horse, senorita."

"I have been riding since I was five," she said, gouging her heels into the mare's side. 

They rode across fields and arroyos, to the dry river bed, and back to the main road past the hacienda to the west as the sun began to drop. He did not ride hard, but did began to experiment with how she would handle some challenges in the terrain. At every turn, she kept up with him effortlessly. This endeared her to him even more. They reached a rise and she stopped.

"This is where he captured me," she said, looking around.

"Captured!" Diego started, but then stopped himself. "I don't think he will appear now, you are quite safe," he said.

She looked at him, startled. "What did you say?" she asked.

"I said, I don't think he will appear now, you are quite safe."

"Quite safe," she repeated. "That is exactly what he said to me last night."

"Ah," said Diego, both rueing that he had slipped and at the same time seeing an opportunity. 

"It sounds as if Zorro were trying to reassure you," he ventured. 

She made no reply, but her head tilted curiously as she looked at him.

"Well, I don't think he will appear in broad daylight," he said, suddenly feeling nervous. "He knows you are in the company of a man who will defend you."

"Oh, Diego," she laughed, "you do not even carry a sword."

He looked at his side. "So you say," he laughed, too. 

"I think we should return, " she said. "The sun is going down."

He nodded, and they turned their horses around to walk back towards the hacienda. He felt he had gotten nowhere.

"Diego?"

"Si?"

"How far is it, to the sea?"

This time Diego caught himself. "Oh, a day's ride, perhaps."

"Zorro told me it was half a day," she said.

"Zorro rides twice as fast as the rest of us," he replied.

She rode on in silence, and as they began a downhill turn Cloud Dancer stumbled slightly and began to limp. 

"I think she may have a stone in her shoe," Diego said, dismounting. "Do you mind? I can check her more easily with no rider."

"No, of course, " she said, and as she swung off the horse she felt his hands on her waist, helping her down. Strong hands, she noticed.

He lifted the horse's hoof, and said, "yes, here it is," and pulling out his knife he flipped a small rock from where it had become lodged in the shoe." "She'll be fine now," he said, stepping back for Elizabeth to remount. He held the stirrup for her, and as she swung up, her face passed close to his. A sudden feeling of warmth went through her. 

Diego smiled up at her and then mounted his own horse. She watched as he swung his leg over. He has grace, she thought.

***

"Diego tells me he will keep this ranch in the years to come," Alejandro told Carlos in their before-dinner drink. "We have worked hard to establish it and we want to keep it always in our family."

"Ah," said Don Carlos, eyeing Diego, who was at the piano playing Salieri. "Then you plan to continue the family?"

"Yes, of course," Diego replied smoothly. "Someday."

"There's plenty of time," Alejandro said, pouring another drink for his friend. "And I think he has much more to learn about dealing with women!" he added indignantly, eyeing Diego.

Diego sighed, finished his playing, and looked at Carlos. "I had a lovely afternoon with your daughter. She is...enchanting ."

Matteo looked at the young man curiously, and then said, "I think you either wore her out, or she is still recovering from her experience last night," Matteo said. "Or perhaps its just that dressing-up thing women do. In any case she should have joined us by now. Perhaps she is out walking again! She is headstrong, as you can see." He sighed. "Don't have daughters, Diego. They'll wear you out."

"Maria, see if Senorita Elizabeth needs anything," Diego said to the servant girl standing by. 

"Si, Don Diego," she said, heading up the stairs.

"Elizabeth asked me about how far we were from the sea today, Carlos," Diego said. "Do you think about establishing your hacienda where she can be near it?"

"She loves the ocean, Diego, but I think she wants to be near it so she can become a pirate!" Matteo replied.

"A pirate?" Diego laughed.

"She has always loved going off on her own," he said. "It's her American side. I sometimes think it will be impossible to find a good Spanish nobleman for her, she is so independent!"

"It's what made you love mother so," came a voice from the stairs. Elizabeth stepped down slowly, wearing a rust-colored dress with lace at the collar and sleeves. 

"Senorita, you favor us with such beauty!" Alejandro said. 

"Your mother did not go walking in strange places after dark!" her father scolded. 

"She had no strange places to walk," Elizabeth replied. "Thank you for our ride today, Diego, it was the most fun I've had in months."

"I hope we can do it again soon," he replied.

Over supper, they talked of Boston, Madrid, and California. Elizabeth described the rough passage around Cape Horn, most of which she spent on deck, soaked in the salt spray, while her father stayed below in seasick misery. 

"Next time, I will ride across the Isthmus of Panama on a donkey," he said. "The waves were the size of these hills out your window, Alejandro!"

"I remember that," Diego said, recalling his trip to Spain and back. He glanced at Elizabeth. "You must be quite a sailor."

She laughed. "Not me! But the men who were the sailors on the ship thought I was marvelous."

"Indeed!" Carlos affirmed. "It is a miracle we got her here intact!"

"Daddy!" she exclaimed, blushing.

Diego laughed in spite of himself, and Alejandro immediately changed the subject.

***

After the meal was finished, the men retired for port and Elizabeth retired. Wanting time to clear his head, Diego excused himself from the company of the older men and strolled the walls of the hacienda. Matteo's comment about getting Elizabeth to Los Angeles intact had stirred him greatly. He was passing under Elizabeth's window just as Sgt Garcia and his patrol ambled by.

"Any sign of Zorro tonight?" Diego asked.

"Not so far, Don Diego," Garcia replied. "But as you can see, we are on the lookout! I don't suppose Senorita Elizabeth is out walking this evening?"

"No, Sergeant, I'm safely inside," Elizabeth called from her window above. She leaned out and waved. "I think Zorro would have a hard time kidnapping me from the de la Vega hacienda, don't you agree?" 

"A very hard time indeed, Senorita!" the Sergeant laughed, forgetting how many times he had encountered Zorro at the de la Vega place. "Well, carry on," he said, and the patrol moved on. "Good night, Don Diego."

"Good night, Sergeant," Diego said, and then looked up to see Elizabeth still at her window. "I'm glad you feel you are safe from Zorro in our home," he said. 

"Oh, I think getting in here would be hard even for Zorro, don't you? Won't you and your father protect me, Diego?"

"We would surely try, Senorita," he answered. "Though I do recommend that you close your window. Even we cannot keep Zorro out if you leave him an easy way in."

"Then I do not think I will be seeing Zorro tonight," she laughed. "Good night, Diego." With that, she slammed her window shut.

Diego, smiling, shook his head. "Good night, Elizabeth. The pirate."

***

Carlos Matteo continued to look for a hacienda while Elizabeth spent her time in the plaza or on horseback, often with Don Diego. One morning they were walking their horses down a dry creek, exchanging more stories about Madrid and Boston. Elizabeth's Spanish, which had been somewhat rusty when she and her father arrived, was improving rapidly.

"Oh, Diego, surely you are making that up!" she laughed.

"No, I'm quite serious," he said, "It's why I don't even wear a sword, it would do me no good."

"Oh come now," she said. "No caballero can be that bad with a sword."

"Ask anyone in Los Angeles pueblo if they have ever seen a sword in the hand of Diego de la Vega," he said. "They will only laugh at you."

"But how will you protect your family some day, if you have no defense?"

"I hope the day is coming when defense won't be needed...but until then, we have our servants and Sgt Garcia and his lancers. Oh, and we have some pistols in the house..." he frowned, thinking. "...somewhere..."

She laughed. "Why am I not reassured?"

He raised an eyebrow and they laughed again, and remounted their horses. 

"How do you like Los Angeles, now that you have been here a little while?" Diego asked.

"I like all the sunshine," she answered, "and the people are very kind. It's very different from the world I grew up in, so formal, so much rain, snow...so many people!"

"Do you miss the city?" he gestured at the mountains and sky. "We have so much space here, and the land is wild."

"It is more free here, anything is possible." She looked over at him. "I like that."

"Then you are in the right place," he said. 

A sound came towards them, and suddenly they were surrounded by several men, masks across the lower halves of their faces. One held a gun, pointed at them.

"Your money pouch, senor," he said gruffly.

"I have nothing," Diego said, holding up his open hands, showing his palms.

"You have nothing?" the bandit repeated. "Oh, that is very disappointing, senor." He looked over at Elizabeth, then back to Diego. "Get off your horse," he said.

Diego hesitated, and the bandit fired the gun in the air, stirring all the horses. "Run, Elizabeth!" Diego shouted, as the bandits grabbed his horse. 

She took off, and the leader said to one of his men, "Go after her." He told the others, "tie this one up. We take his horses and the girl." 

They bound Diego. Then the lead bandit pointed his gun at Diego and said, "when you get back to the pueblo, you tell them that Diablo has the woman Zorro fancies!" With that he wheeled his horse around and followed the others, leaving Diego beside a tree. 

"Diego!" he heard Elizabeth shout in the distance, and he cursed. "Diego," she cried, " help!"

***

It was two hours later that Bernardo found his master coming by foot up the road. He had unloosed his bonds quickly, but having no horse could not follow the bandits and Elizabeth, so instead ran towards home. 

"Get Tornado ready," he told his servant as they rode into the stable. "And after I'm gone, tell my father and Carlos..." he paused. "No, don't tell them anything, it will only alarm them and they'll send for the lancers. I think Zorro can do this better alone."

***

Riding as fast as Tornado would carry him, Zorro returned to the scene and picked up the trail easily, for it was still light. They had headed up into the hills beyond the Cahuenga Pass, and as the sun began to set he spotted their camp in the distance. He scouted the area and saw that Elizabeth was with them, tied up. A kerchief was wrapped across her mouth so she couldn't scream. She looked put out and tired, but otherwise unruffled.

"Like a good pirate," Zorro said to himself. He waited, watching over the camp, until the sun was completely set. Then he worked his way around the site and quietly loosed the bandits' horses, hobbled in a grassy area. They each ambled off into the bush as their hobbles were untied.

"So, senorita," he heard Diablo say, " your caballero has not come for you, despite all that screaming you did. What a pair of lungs! You're the girl who claimed to be captured by Zorro. Where is he now?" He gestured for the kerchief in her mouth to be removed, and one of the bandits cut through it with a knife. She spit it out.

"How much do you think she is worth, amigos?" he asked. "Surely someone in Los Angeles would pay a ransom for such a girl." He reached over and ran his hand down her face. She jerked away. He smelled awful. He leaned down into her face. "So beautiful,' he said. "Look at these eyes, amigos...what color do you call your eyes, senorita? They aren't quite blue...but they aren't really green..." He peered into her face. She spit at him, and he shoved her away.

A whip cracked in the night, and everyone looked to see one of the bandits guns fly across the dirt into the brush.

"It is not polite to shove a lady!" a voice came from the brush. One of the bandits reached for his gun, only to have it knocked from his hand with another slash of the bullwhip. "Your mother must have taught you no manners!" the voice continued, as Zorro bounded into view, his whip in one hand, his sword drawn in the other. He attacked with such speed and accuracy that all the guns were out of reach and knives were on the ground before the bandits could gather themselves to fight back. Diablo grabbed Elizabeth and put his gun to her head, only to have it snapped away by the perfectly-aimed bullwhip. The bandit released her as he grabbed his stricken hand. Zorro whistled, and Tornado leapt into the campsite. Pulling Elizabeth with him, Zorro mounted the horse. Carving a "Z" into the Diablo's vest with his sword, he then gouged the horse's sides to run. Someone hurled a rock at him, which struck Elizabeth in the temple. She swooned as Tornado raced away.

***

"Elizabeth," she vaguely heard a low voice calling her, and she felt cool water on her face. "Senorita," she heard more clearly. Her eyes fluttered open, and she slowly realized she was lying on the ground, Zorro kneeling beside her. She put her hand to her head, and saw blood on her fingers.

"It isn't deep," he told her, putting a cool, wet cloth on the wound. "I had to ride hard to get away from those men. I'm sorry if it caused you more pain."

"I don't remember," she said, trying to sit up. Her head felt like it was splitting open. She began to get her bearings. They were in bright moonlight, beside the bank of a small pond. Crickets were chirping, and frogs croaking. She felt for the wound again, and her hand rested on his gloved hand, holding the wet cloth to her cut.

"You'll ruin your gloves," she said, a new wave of dizziness coming over her.

"They are replaceable," he said. "You, on the other hand, are not. Lie back down." He helped her lean back, and then retrieved the blanket under Tornado's saddle to make a place to rest her head. The horse pranced near them, moonlight glistening on his black coat.

"He's so beautiful," she said. "What do you call him?"

"His name is Tornado," Zorro answered, continuing to kneel beside her but always glancing about to make sure they were still alone. 

She lay there a while, hoping her senses would return. A coyote howled in the distance, and she shivered.

"Cold?" he asked. She nodded. He pulled off his silken black cape and laid it across her. "I have no large blanket," he smiled, "This will have to do."

She wrapped herself in it, and smelled him, smelled his sweet darkness, the slight scent of a familiar perfume mingled with musk. Still dizzy, she watched his tall, slender, black-clad figure in the silvery light, moving towards Tornado. Without the cloak, she could see him more clearly, how his limbs moved and his body cut the night air. "Oh," she said softly, in a moment of recognition. He turned to her. "You and Diego have the same grace," she said, "you and Diego...you're the same..." and then she went woozy and fainted again.

***

When Elizabeth awoke again, she was in her bed at Don Alejandro's house, her father beside her, Alejandro and Diego at the foot of her bed, the servants Bernardo and Maria nearby. 

"Thank God!" her father exclaimed. "Do you recognize me? Do you know where you are?"

"Father," she said, and she looked around. "Don Alejandro...Diego...yes, father, we are at the de la Vega hacienda." She touched her head and moaned. "But how did I get here? I was in the moonlight by a pond with..."

"Zorro," Diego finished, gesturing at the mirror in her room. It was marked with a finely cut "Z" in the glass. "We found the window open and you here, at dawn," he said. "You were wrapped in this," he held up Zorro's black cape. 

"Yes," she murmured, slightly remembering the encounter. "I was cold...he put it over me..."

"Do you remember anything else?" Diego asked, adding, "anything at all, that the soldiers might use?"

She thought about the pond, and the black horse in the moonlight, but everything else was a blur. She shook her head. "I remember when he came into the campsite and rescued me from the bandits, and someone threw a rock and I hit my head..." she said. "We stopped, but I can't...I don't remember how I got here. No, I do remember something else."

Diego leaned over her, anxious. 

"The horse," she said. "He told me his horse's name." She waited for it to come, but it did not. "I can't remember it now," she said. It seemed important to remember, but she couldn't. Something important, but...she simply could not reach it. "A great black horse," she sighed. 

"Elizabeth, this is one too many encounters with danger," her father said.

"I will be fine, father," she said, slowly sitting up and holding his hand. "I'll rest for a day or two, but I will be fine."

"You must rest," he said sternly. "We'll leave you now. But don't get any ideas!" he said. "Don't leave this room without someone!"

"I won't," she promised.

The others left, but Diego lingered, and sat in the chair beside her bed. "Elizabeth," he said, "I am so sorry about what happened out there."

"There were five of them, Diego," she said. "Even Zorro could not have stopped five of them unarmed and without surprise on his side."

He took her hand in his. "Nonetheless, I am sorry, sorry it happened and sorry I could not rescue you myself." With that, he kissed her hand and departed. She waited until after the door closed, and then got out of bed and went to the place by the mirror where Zorro's cape lay draped across the chair. She lifted it up and buried her face in it. His scent was still there, fainter but still clinging in the deep folds.

"Come back," she whispered into the cape. "Come back."



Chapter Two - Zorro's Cape

By the next day, the word had spread across the pueblo that Elizabeth Matteo had been kidnapped again, but this time it was El Zorro who rescued her. 

"I think he needs to decide how he feels about her," was Corporal Reyes's comment to Sgt Garcia. "Does he want to help her, or steal her?" 

In any case, Zorro was a hero this time, regaining his briefly-lost popularity among the people for this good and far more characteristic deed. It also brought Diego back into the good graces of his father. Peace once again descended on the house of de la Vega.

The matter of Zorro's cape became a subject of considerable discussion throughout the pueblo. The feeling in some quarters was that it should be left in the woods for him to reclaim it in darkness. Others worried that leaving it in the woods, he would not find it at all. Some wanted to hang it in the town plaza or on the wall of the tavern as a relic. There was even some talk of giving it to the padre to wear on feast days, in solidarity with Zorro's good deeds among the people. This plan was put to rest by Padre Felipe himself. Gently but firmly he observed that, with all due respect to The Fox, wearing a black cape in the mass was as good as inviting Satan into the proceedings. "It is not that I equate Zorro with the devil," he carefully explained to his several parishioners who approached him with this proposal. "Unlike him, we do not need black to help us with our mission on this earth." 

While the debate raged, the cape remained in Elizabeth's protective possession. One afternoon, sick of hearing yet another argument over the cape, Sgt Garcia appeared at the de la Vega door, demanding to see Elizabeth.

"Senorita," he said, "I have come for the cape of El Zorro. Please hand it over immediately."

"No, Sergeant," she said firmly, "He gave it to me and I intend to keep it."

"You don't understand, Senorita," he said. "It is the property of an outlaw, and we should have it at the garrison." He did not mention the demands for seeing it in town, and even the talk of paying to touch it.

"Unless or until he comes to claim it, the cape belongs to me," she insisted. 

"Unless he comes to..." Garcia repeated, and then his latest bright idea landed. "Of course he will come to claim it," he said, as Diego came down the stairs and into the courtyard. " And then we will capture him!"

"Capture who?" Diego asked. He was chewing a cigar and looking relaxed.

"Why Zorro, of course," replied the Sergeant. "Don't you see, Don Diego? He will come here to claim his cloak from the senorita, and we will lie in wait for him. He will never know we are here!" 

"I see," said Diego, taking a puff from his cigar. "But I have two questions."

"Si?"

"My first question is, doesn't Zorro usually know when you are lying in wait for him?"

The Sergeant's head bowed slightly. "Si, Don Diego," he said humbly.

"And, don't you think he might have another cape?"

Garcia thought about that and replied, "No, Don Diego, I think that this must be his only one. No one has seen Zorro since he rescued Senorita Elizabeth three nights ago."

"But Zorro sometimes disappears for many days," Diego pointed out. "Perhaps he has gone somewhere else in California. Perhaps he is in search of a new cape!"

"I believe he will return for it," Garcia insisted. "But you are right, he usually knows when we are waiting for him. I don't know how he knows, but somehow, Zorro knows."

He departed somewhat crestfallen, but Diego only chuckled as he closed the gate after the Sergeant. 

"Thank you, Diego," Elizabeth said. "I think he would have insisted on taking it if you hadn't intervened."

"I'm glad to help," Diego said. "I just wonder why you are so determined to keep it? It is just a piece of clothing."

"It is his," she said. "I can't explain."

"If I did not know better, I would say that the fox has gotten to you," Diego said teasingly.

"Perhaps," Elizabeth said, smiling coyly. "Does that bother you, Diego?"

"I would envy any man who won your heart, Elizabeth," he said, taking her hand and kissing it. As he looked up from the kiss, he held her hand in his and their eyes locked. 

"Why Diego," she said. He leaned towards her, but then backed away.

"But who can compete with Zorro?" he asked, and letting go of her hand and bowing, he departed.

***

That evening, the dinner in the household was lively, as everyone joined in the debate about Zorro's cape. A neighboring family joined Don Alejandro's usual party, and by the end of the meal they had all cajoled Elizabeth into going upstairs and bringing her black treasure down for everyone to touch and admire. Elizabeth submitted to this reluctantly, but could see that it would be ungracious to refuse.

"Ah, so soft," observed Dona Corinna, Don Miguel Cahuenga's wife, stroking the cloak gently. "Zorro must miss this."

"I wonder where it was made?" Alejandro asked, taking the cloak in his hands. He looked for a label but could find nothing. "It feels like French satin," he said.

"Perhaps Zorro has his own tailor," Carlos commented.

"Perhaps Zorro is a tailor" Diego said, and everyone laughed.

"A tailor!" Alejandro repeated, finding his son's comment particularly amusing. "But Diego, our only tailor in Los Angeles is five feet tall and weighs two hundred pounds!"

Diego shrugged, "A secret tailor?"

"Well, everything else about Zorro is a secret," Alejandro said, touching the cape again.

"I think he lives in a cave by the sea," said Dona Corinna. "They say he moves in and out like the mist, and carries the scent of ocean on him."

"No, no, he lives in the mountains overlooking Los Angeles," Don Miguel said. "That is how he keeps watch over us."

"He doesn't smell like the ocean," Elizabeth said, causing all of them to look at her. She ignored it. "I think he is among us," she said, stroking the cape where it was laid on the table. 

"How can that be?" scoffed her father. 

"No one ever recognizes him," Alejandro pointed out. "Don you not think someone would figure it out if he were among us?"

"He never stays anywhere long enough to let himself be recognized," Elizabeth said, folding up the cloak to return it to her room. "Why would he always wear a mask, if he were not leading a double life?"

"It is his persona!" Alejandro explained. "It is his way of identifying with everyone, by having only the identity of the mask."

Diego stepped away from the group and said, "I must ask you all to excuse me, I need to check the horses and the gates. With all this talk of Zorro, I fear his ears will be burning. We should secure ourselves in order not to tempt him."

They all laughed and bid him good night. Bernardo followed him as he left.

Inside, the party continued. In the courtyard where they stood, Diego said to Bernardo, "I think it is high time to retrieve my cape."

Bernardo made the sign of the "Z" in the air, and Diego nodded. "Have Tornado under Elizabeth's window," he instructed.

***

Some time later, after all the guests had departed, Elizabeth retired to her room with Zorro's cape in her hands. Once she shut and bolted the door and lit her candles, she lifted it and buried her face in it.

"I believe that belongs to me," a voice came from the shadowy corner near the window.

She gasped, looking up, to see a masked, black-clad figure sitting in her window. "Zorro!" she exclaimed.

He held his gloved finger to his lips. "Don't call out. Unless of course you want to be kidnapped again. I can always return you to Diablo."

"I don't believe you would do that," she said.

"Be careful what you believe, Senorita," he said, stepping down from the window and coming towards her. 

She stepped back, and he smiled, reaching out. "I only want the cape," he said, knowing he was telling a lie.

"I'll scream if you come any closer," she said.

"Now I'm the one who doesn't believe you," he said softly, coming close enough that she could feel his warmth radiating towards her. She leaned towards him, and in taking the cloak he barely touched her, but they remained close together once it had changed hands. She could smell it again, the muskiness, that faint layer of familiar cologne, and a hint of cigar smoke.

"Thank you, senorita," he said, his breath on her hair.

"Thank you for rescuing me," she answered, wishing only to lay her head on his shoulder. She looked up at him.

A knock came on the door, and Zorro jumped back towards the window, his hand on the hilt of his sword. 

"Yes?" Elizabeth said.

"It is Maria, senorita, do you need anything?"

"No, no, Maria, I'm fine," Elizabeth answered.

"Very well," said the servant girl.

When Elizabeth looked back at Zorro, he was finishing donning his cape. "Thank you for keeping it safely for me," he said, again flashing his smile. He started to get into the window to leave.

"They wanted to hang it in the plaza," she said slowly, taking a step towards him. He saw her step, and it arrested him in his motion. She took another step towards him.

"Say my name," she said, continuing to come closer.

"But you have never told me your name," Zorro said, his feet back on the ground, coming slowly towards her.

"Then I dreamed I heard you say it once," she told him, looking up into his face and seeing the dark eyes behind the mask. They had green in them. "You have such kind eyes," she said.

He touched her face, and she felt the soft black leather on her skin. "Say my name," she said again. "Elizabeth."

Zorro leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Elizabeth," he said. "You are named for a queen."

Her arms came around his tight, narrow waist, and she found herself inside the cloak pressed up against him. His arms coming around her, he pulled her against his body. Then, in spite of every good intuition that told him not to, he lowered his face slowly to hers, and pressed his lips over hers in a kiss. He felt her respond, their embrace tightening. He ended the kiss reluctantly, letting go of her and stepping back.

"Take me with you," she whispered.

"That would be impossible," he said, his hands briefly touching her shoulders as if to keep her at a distance. 

"But when will I see you again?" she asked, as he climbed into the window sill. 

"Who knows?" he asked back. "But you will see me again, I promise you that."

"Zorro!" she said, as he disappeared into the darkness, and with a light step made his way down the slanted tile roof.

"Adios, Elizabeth," he said softly. Then he dropped out of sight, and she heard the hooves of the black horse carry him off.

"Take me with you," she said again, to the night.

***

The next morning, Elizabeth came into the hacienda courtyard to find her father, Diego and Alejandro taking their coffee under a fig tree. She had lain awake very late, thinking about the touch of Zorro's lips, the lightness of his hands on her shoulders, and that moment when she was so briefly wrapped in his arms. She turned over and over in her mind the moment when he first started to leave, and how when she moved toward him he stopped, and came back to her. It had been a physical reaction to her movement, unthinking and instinctive. It happened again when she wrapped her arms around his waist -- he pulled her against him in spontaneous response, uncalculated and unpredatory. She felt his strength, his kindness, his pure masculinity. And, in the brief battle with Diablo and the bandits, she had seen his deftness and speed, his sure-footedness, his athleticism on the horse and with the sword. The first night they met, she'd seen his merriment, and his ability to size things up rapidly. He had irony, but it was neither bitter nor cynical. And last night, for a few seconds, she had felt his desire. It all stirred her deeply. She felt desperate to be near him again, to talk with him, to find the man behind the mask. She tossed and turned all night, moved and disturbed.

"Did you sleep well, Senorita?" Diego asked her, as she joined the men. "You look a little tired."

"I..." she started to say something, but stopped. "No, it was hard to sleep last night," she said. She sat down, and Maria poured her coffee.

The men were discussing changes in the garrison in Los Angeles, and whether or not their taxes to the Crown would rise in order to pay for it. Carlos found a hacienda he wanted to buy, and fretted over new costs that would go with the sale. Alejandro, excitable to begin with, was easily set off by any new prospect of more taxes to Spain, and allowed, not for the first time, that perhaps the Americans had the right idea at their Boston Tea Party. "Perhaps California should become its own country," he said.  
"If Mexico doesn't capture it first," Carlos remarked.

"Careful," Diego said, "you two sound like you're advocating sedition."

"A little sedition might do us some good," Carlos said. "The people are restless and from what I can tell, Zorro seems to be the only person stirring things up with the authorities. I must admit, after so many years in America it is a bigger adjustment than I expected, to be so directly subject to the Crown again. Even though I am so much further away! Perhaps instead of buying this hacienda we should return to Spain and tend to our business there."

Elizabeth's mind had been drifting, but when she heard her father say "return to Spain" she was shaken back into the moment.

"No!" she cried, horrified.

"Elizabeth! It is my home, and it should be yours, too."

She stood up. "This is my home now," she said. "I'll never return to Boston, Father, much less Spain." Her voice was shaking. "This is my home now," she said again.

"Calm down, my dear," Alejandro said, coming over to comfort her. "We are glad you have come to love California so much in so short a time. This is just our way of complaining. Your father has found a good hacienda, haven't you, Carlos?"

"Si," said the other man, with a sigh. "I may be destitute by the time we move in, but it is a good place to start a rancho." He laughed. "It will be up to you to marry well, Elizabeth, so we don't end up in the poor house!"

"Marry?" Elizabeth said, even more distressed. She excused herself and ran aimlessly to the stable, as the men watched.

"What did I say?" Carlos asked, starting to go after her. Then he stopped. "She knows she'll have to marry someone if we settle here." He looked at Diego. "Go after her. You can cheer her up."

Diego glanced at his father and stood up. "All right, I'll find her. Perhaps she'd like to ride over and see the hacienda you're buying."

"Good idea!" Don Carlos said. He clapped Diego on the back. "Good idea, son."

Diego glanced at his father again, and then followed Elizabeth's direction.

"Don't get any ideas, Carlos," Alejandro said. "Diego has much to do right now. He isn't looking for a wife."

"Nonsense," Carlos replied. "What does he do? He sits about here with you, he does some business in town, he rides about on those horses. He could use a wife to give him some focus. And she'd make a fine wife for him."

"And he would make a fine son-in-law for you?" Alejandro added.

"The very finest," Carlos said. "Look, marriage brings out things in a man."

"What do you mean?" Alejandro asked. "What do you think Diego is lacking?"

"Well, right now he's..."

"He's the son of the wealthiest don in Los Angeles!" Alejandro replied, his annoyance with the conversation rising.

"Indeed, and what man would not want his daughter in that family!" Carlos replied. "But Diego would benefit too, Alejandro. Look at him. He's handsome and gracious, but he's also bookish and plays the piano. He's a little..."

"What?" Alejandro asked.

Carlos shrugged. "He's good with the horses...but he does not..."

"He's soft? Is that what you're trying to say?"

"Well, look what happened to them. He couldn't defend her when those bandits took her away."

"Those were five armed men!" Alejandro exclaimed. "He was unarmed."

"He can't even handle a sword," Don Carlos said.

"How do you know that?" Alejandro asked. 

The other man shrugged. "I asked around."

"Oh for heaven's sake!"

"Look, Alejandro, he's clumsy in some ways, he lacks a certain fire...but Elizabeth might bring that out in him!'

Alejandro shook his head. "All I can say, Carlos, is that you do not know my son."

"I know what I see, Alejandro. But he owns land, he would treat her well, and think of the beautiful children they would have! And, if she needs protection, perhaps Zorro will watch out for her if Diego cannot."

"Perhaps," said Alejandro. "But I remind you, Carlos, I don't believe Diego is looking for a wife."

"Ah, but he does listen to his father, doesn't he? Let me tell you about Elizabeth's dowry, Alejandro." And with that, Carlos Matteo laid out for Alejandro de la Vega a picture of wealth that even the richest land owner in Los Angeles found dazzling.

***

Diego found Elizabeth in the stable, sitting in a pile of straw beside Cloud Dancer's stall. When he walked in, she hastily wiped off her face.

"Oh, no, have you been crying?" he asked, kneeling down and offering her his handkerchief. 

She accepted it and wiped her cheeks, then blew her nose, which made him smile.

"Better?" he asked.

She nodded. He rose and offered his hand, which she took and he pulled her to her feet. He let go of her hand instantly, though he wanted to put his arms around her. 

"I do not understand men at all, Diego," she said, stroking the horse's face.

"Ah, there's only one thing harder to understand than a man," he said, also petting the horse.

"And what is that?"

"A woman," he answered.

"Oh, no, we are simple," she said, smiling up at him. Their eyes met, and briefly she felt a flash of recognition she could not place. She looked down, which he took as shyness. In fact she was trying, without success, to trace the feeling she had.

"Would you like to ride over and see your new hacienda?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered. 

"Perhaps," he said, as he went about saddling the horses, "it will reassure you that you do not have to leave Los Angeles."

"I couldn't bear to leave now," she said. "I feel I have found my true home here."

"That is good to hear," he said. "Certainly it has become a better place since you arrived. And a more exciting one."

"I don't try to get spirited away!" she protested teasingly.

"Well if this is what happens when you don't try, please don't try!" he laughed, and held her stirrup for her as she mounted. Then he went and swung up onto his own horse. He realized she was staring at him oddly. 

"Is something wrong?"

She shook her head. "No, I...there are moments when I think you remind me of ...someone." 

"Who?" he asked.

She shook her head again. "No, it's just coincidence. I'm sorry. It's just that when you mounted the horse..." she wanted to finish, your long legs reminded me of Zorro, but she knew it was impossible. 

He shrugged. "We all saddle up alike around here," he said.

"Yes, I guess so," she answered, and they rode out.

Their ride was mostly silent on the still morning, each lost in their separate thoughts, each thinking about Zorro. Elizabeth remained lost in her memory of the previous night, his leather glove on her face, the way his body felt against hers, the sweet, smoldering kiss. Diego was in his own dilemma, rightly assuming she was thinking exactly what she was thinking, and feeling angry with himself. He was angry that his discipline had failed him the night before. In a moment that swept him past thinking he had held the girl in his arms and felt her softness against him, touched his lips to her cheek, and even gone so far as to steal a passionate kiss. It made his heart pound just to think about it. She had tasted like whatever the nectar of the gods tasted like. And it was now clear that he could not undo any of it, for her or for him. She was lost to him as Diego. 

He also knew she had a bright mind, and that the connection she had to Zorro would be sparked easily. It meant he had now to be doubly careful in how he behaved as Diego, lest in a flash he reveal some glimpse of Zorro that she would identify and put together. She could not know the secret. It was too dangerous. 

He cursed his dual identity, gouging his horse into a sudden canter. Either way, he did not see how he could have her. And what he now knew, undeniably knew, was how much he wanted her. It wasn't just the physical attraction, though that alone made him ache with hope and desire. It was her, all of her. She had both sweetness and fire. It moved him deep in his heart in a way that no woman ever had before.

"Diego!" he heard her call, as her horse gained speed to catch up with him. 

He slowed.

"Were you just suddenly leaving me back there?" she asked, as they slowed to a trot.

"I'm sorry," he said. "It was a mental distraction."

"Do mental distractions always make you gallop away?" she asked

"No," he said, "but sometimes riding clears my head and helps me see the things I need to."

"And did you see it?"

"Not yet, senorita," he said. "Perhaps I need a longer ride on a faster horse." 

They continued in silence a while longer, until they rounded a curve and approached a house on a low rise facing east towards Los Angeles pueblo on one side, and west towards the ocean on the other. "This is it," he said.

Elizabeth looked up at the place, with its stucco walls and red tile roof, and instantly liked it. "I'll have my room on the side facing west," she said as they dismounted. "Then I'll be able to smell the ocean every night."

They toured the place slowly and quietly, looking through the sala and library, the kitchen, the bedrooms, the terraces, the courtyard. It was quite grand, and Diego realized as he looked around that Carlos Matteo was more well off than he'd imagined. He smiled to himself, wondering how this would sit with Alejandro, who prided himself on being the richest man in Los Angeles. 

"Ah, look, my room!" Elizabeth cried, entering a room with a balcony on the second floor, and throwing open a window facing the west. "And there, that section of land next to the house, I can begin a garden there. I have always loved to grow things." They stood looking out, and she turned to him suddenly and said, "We still haven't made our trip to the sea."

"You are right," he said, "and right to remind me. Next week, perhaps?"

"I'd like that," she said. She looked back outside. "Oh, I think I will be very happy here, Diego." He saw that her eyes were on the road, and he knew she was thinking about who might ride up it in the dark.

He smiled at her gently, while feeling his heart clutch. "Then I am glad," he said.

***

More days passed. Elizabeth refused all requests to bring Zorro's cape back out for further admiration, telling no one of the visit he'd made to her room. Diego left Los Angeles the night of their ride after a testy conversation with his father, in which Alejandro hinted strongly that he felt his son should begin to court Elizabeth formally. It was rumored in town that on that very night, the hooves of Zorro's horse were heard pounding down the Camino Real, running faster than anyone had every seen the great, swift animal go. For several days after, rumors of Zorro's activities in San Diego drifted up the coast.

Don Carlos, cheered by his daughter's approval of the new place, completed his transaction and was then occupied, along with Elizabeth, in establishing the new household. They went about purchasing furniture, collecting stored trunks and materials, hiring house and ranch servants, and supervising the place's clean-up. Except for a brief exchange in the marketplace, Elizabeth did not see Diego for over two weeks. She did hear that Zorro had reappeared in Los Angeles, when a boy falsely accused of theft was freed in the middle of the night and a "Z" was slashed into a lancer's coat when the effort to stop the escape failed. Sgt Garcia sat in the Tavern telling the story with wonder, and lamenting, "I do not know how he does it." He also remarked that Zorro must have a second cape after all, since he had seen him wearing it in this latest confrontation.

Diego and Elizabeth were each alone in their misery, he staying away in confused despair, she hoping in vain that the masked man would appear again in her new room. For a while she believed that perhaps he did not know she had left the de la Vega household, but eventually she had to admit to herself that, if everyone in the pueblo and surrounding ranches knew, it would be hard for El Zorro not to. She left her window open every night, welcoming the hint of sea air and hoping for a dark shadow to cross the sill, but night after night he did not appear. Finally she had to tell herself that he would not keep his promise to see her again. Perhaps, she mournfully told herself, he already had a woman somewhere. Perhaps, indeed, he had come to her only for the cape, and that moment when he returned to her and embraced her were simply acts of protective kindness, or impulse, or worst of all, pity. Surely he already had a woman. Or women. This possibility both shattered and enraged her. But why else would he now stay away?

***

"Diego, since I left your hacienda I almost never see you!" Elizabeth said. She had entered the tavern one afternoon to find Diego sitting at a table alone, seeming to brood over his glass.

He stood up, and gestured for her to take the chair across from him. "I'm sorry, senorita," he said. "We have been very busy at the ranch, and I have had to make several trips to buy and sell horses."

"I see, " she said. "But you said you would take me to the ocean."

"And so I shall," he said, looking at her. "Someday."

"I thought you might have forgotten."

"No, I have only lost track of the time," he answered. 

"Men do that," she smiled.

"Si, I suppose we do." He had not expected to see her here, and he suddenly felt as if his heart were breaking. He took a hard breath and a long drink of his wine, angry to find in an instant that staying away had done him no good. He was unaccustomed to these feelings, and highly unaccustomed to having no control over what was going on in his heart. 

She put her hand over his in a sisterly way. "You look thinner, Diego. I think this travelling doesn't agree with you."

"The food is better in Los Angeles," he admitted, trying to smile at her. He stood up. "It is good to see you, Elizabeth," he said. "I must go."

"But I just got here," she protested.

"I have much more to do before the sun sets," he said, bowing. "Please give my best to your father. I understand he is enjoying the new hacienda. I hope you are as well."

"You must come for dinner soon, our kitchen is almost ready," she said. She felt sad to see him leave so abruptly, and was taken aback by his chilly formality. She missed their rides together and his light, easy companionship. She knew her father was anxious to see a match between them, he talked about it more often than she liked and had been to Don Alejandro's twice more to discuss the dowry. She stayed out of it, persuaded that the fact that Diego had almost completely disappeared since these conversations started meant that he did not wish to pursue it. However, knowing Diego was a dutiful son, she also imagined that he might simply be staying out of it in deference to whatever arrangement his father was making.

Until this moment, she hadn't let herself think about what it would be like to be married to Diego de la Vega. For all his charm, he had never inspired her imagination. It was too overwhelmed by Zorro. Diego was decent, handsome, and rich. Despite his sometimes-abrupt withdrawals he seemed genuinely to like her. Or at least to see her as a person, which was better than being viewed as chattel. Except for an occasional kiss on the hand, or helping her onto her horse, he always kept his distance. He related to her more as a brother than as a suitor. But he had an easy laugh and never seemed to take himself too seriously. People thought he was somewhat lazy, but she wasn't sure she believed that, having seen him around his horses. The way his eyes ran over them, the way he instantly spotted anything that was wrong, the way he handled them with such confidence, told her that underneath the seemingly unreflective exterior was a man who knew exactly what he was doing.

Drawing this conclusion surprised her. She didn't realize how much attention she had paid. But then she began thinking again about El Zorro, who was taller and stronger and much more outgoing and merry than Diego. El Zorro was a man who moved like lightning, made decisions in an instant, always knew what to do. Diego seemed pale in comparison. How hard it would be, she thought, to spend her life with a ghost while she thought every day...and every night...of the full-bodied man she really wanted. It was then that she resolved that a marriage to Diego would never be a success, not a marriage to Diego or anyone else. Unless she could find out who Zorro was.

***

Another two weeks passed, and the pueblo lumbered into its hot, sleepy summer. People were aroused only by new stories of Zorro's bravery with bandits, his saving of an Indian woman and her child from a fire, and his occasional practical jokes with the lancers. His most recent foray into the garrison yielded a dozen pairs of pants strung on a line across the courtyard. When retrieved by the lancers, in their longjohns, each pair proved to have a "Z" carved into the seat of the trousers. The trousers had been stolen from right under the men's noses while they slept in their barracks.

"Ah, yes," Sgt Garcia opined from his favorite table in the Tavern, "Zorro has his sense of humor. He never goes too long without reminding us he is there." He shook his head. "But at the rate we are going I am afraid we will run out of uniforms."

"Can't you order a new shipment from Spain?" Diego asked, as they sat together with the lancers and a few dons.

"I order new uniforms with every ship," Garcia explained. He looked at Diego and the others sadly. "Once, Zorro got to the ship before the uniforms were even unloaded, and burned them. I do not think he likes the army, Don Diego."

Alejandro entered the taven and waved for Diego, who excused himself and joined his father for a private drink. 

"I've been looking all over for you!" Alejandro said "And I'm finding you in here much too often!"

"Is there a problem?" Diego asked, pushing past his father's implication.

"Yes, I would say there is!" Don Alejandro replied. "Carlos has been back three more times about Elizabeth and her dowry, Diego. It is so generous that I am having a hard time putting him off."

"But haven't you told him I am not looking for a wife?"

"Yes! Repeatedly! He ignores it! The man can talk a dog off a meat wagon!"

Despite his inner grief, Diego laughed. "Well what do you expect, father? He's a politician and a diplomat. Talk is his trade."

" I'm beginning to think you will have to marry this girl for the sake of a business arrangement!" Alejandro exclaimed, taking a drink from his glass, and trying to calm down. "You like her, don't you, Diego?"

"She's very beautiful," he answered, "and she certainly has spirit. But Father, when I marry, Zorro can be no more. And we know Zorro's work is not finished in California."

"But can you not...find a way to keep it from her?" he asked. "You kept it from me!"

Diego felt his heart tighten. "I think it would be harder to do with a wife, Father. Especially with Elizabeth. You know how bright she is."

"But...but...you can say you must go do some business."

"And if Zorro needs to go out in the middle of the night, which is when he usually goes out? What do I say to her then? What do I tell her when she asks, in the morning, why I left our bed in the middle of the night?"

"Well...you...tell her you had to check the horses," Alejandro huffed. 

Diego smiled gently at his father despite the huge sadness he felt. "It would never work," he said. "And telling her would put her in such danger. Look at the times you have had to hold your tongue, at the risks you've had to take. I could not ask it of her."

"She would not need to know!" his father insisted.

"Think, Father," Diego said. "I would have to live with her every day, showing her only Diego and never Zorro. Believe me when I say it would be impossible."

Alejandro raised an eyebrow. "What are you telling me?"

"I am telling you..." he lowered his voice further. "I am telling you that it would be impossible for her not to know."

Alejandro looked at his son in horror. "Are you telling me that Zorro has compromised this girl's honor?"

"No," Diego said evenly, "I am telling you that a charade of trying to be less than all I am to her would fail!" 

"I do not understand exactly what you're saying, Diego, but I do not think I like it." He sighed. "Perhaps Zorro needs to make that girl think less of him, so that she can think more of Diego de la Vega."

Diego could say no more, for he heard his father's wisdom instantly. He sat back in his chair, wishing he could sink into the floor and oblivion.

Across the room, Corporal Reyes said to the Sergeant, "Look at Don Diego. He looks like his father has just disowned him."

Garcia winked. "I think his father has just told him he must get married. To Elizabeth Matteo."

Reyes's eyes widened. "Truly?"

"Well," Garcia explained conspiritorially, "We have seen Don Carlos at the de la Vega hacienda on numerous nights, and the servants say they have been talking very privately. About what, of course, they do not say...but last night as I went by on patrol, I am sure that I saw them shaking hands at Don Alejandro's gate. What else could that be on, besides a dowry?"

"A horse?" Corporal Reyes ventured.

"No!" Garcia boomed. Everyone in the room looked at him. He waved over at Diego sheepishly. Then, to Reyes, he whispered, "not a word." Reyes shook his head in agreement.

Diego rose, saying to his father, "I will see what I can do."

"You know what you must do, son," Alejandro said.

***

Late that night, as moonlight poured through her open window, Elizabeth awoke on hearing her curtains rustling in the breeze. She sat up.

"Buenos noches, senorita," the soft, deep voice came from the shadows. El Zorro stepped into full view at the foot of her bed.

"I knew you'd return!" she exclaimed, starting to get out of bed.

He held up his black-gloved hand. "No, stay there," he said quickly.

"I knew you would keep your promise," she said, "when you said we would meet again."

"Yes," he answered. "But I have come to say goodbye, senorita. We will not meet after this." He spoke in short, clipped words, the kindness gone from his voice.

"What do you mean?" she asked, suddenly forlorn.

"I have said all I can," he answered. "But I wish you well. I wish you..." his voice softened, "happiness." He stepped towards the window, his back to her.

"No!" she cried, half falling out of the bed. She pulled herself up and stood before him in her nightgown. 

"Wait!"

He turned, and looked at her in the moonlight. His mouth opened slightly as she came reaching toward him, saying, "hold me." She managed to grasp an edge of his cape, and her hand ran down it, touching his leg just above his knee. His blood began rushing.
Zorro forced himself to step back and swiftly pull out his sword. He stopped her from continuing her approach, the sharp point poised at her bodice. She gasped.

"You said you would never hurt me," she said.

"I do not wish to," he replied. "Come no closer."

"But why?" she asked, tears forming in her eyes. She reached out her hand. "Hold me one more time." She reached further, the sword point pressing into her nightgown bodice. "Say my name."

He took a step back, and lifted himself into the window, his sword still pointed at her. "Adios, senorita," he said softly, and slipped onto the roof, dropping lightly to the ground. She watched as he leapt onto the black horse, and in a flash she remembered, "Tornado." She reached out her hand to him as he looked up one last time. He lifted the sword towards her, tipping it off his hat in a salute, then turned, and rode away as tears streamed down her cheeks.

What she did not know was, he felt as if every bone in his body were breaking as Tornado carried him away.