Chapter One - Homecoming
It was four days later that the little party finally pulled up to the de la Vega hacienda in Los Angeles, in the early afternoon. The sun was shining. Diego and Elizabeth looked at one another with pure relief as they rode in. The rancho appeared before their eyes as heavenly vision after the long journey.
"Home," Elizabeth said.
"Home," Diego agreed.
Alejandro rushed out to welcome them as they dismounted in the stable yard, hugging his son and then giving Elizabeth a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Welcome! How we have missed you!" he cried. "It is far too quiet around here! I will send a servant to Don Carlos immediately, to let him know you are home. We will have a special supper tonight to celebrate. How was your journey?"
"Long," said Elizabeth.
"Eventful," said Diego.
"I want to hear all about it," Alejandro said, "but first you must rest, take your siestas. Would you like hot baths drawn?"
"Si," Diego said. He turned to Elizabeth. "You’re feeling all right?"
She nodded. She had had more nausea on the final morning of the trip, but it passed quickly. "I want to see if my gardens survived my absence," she said. "And I want to see my father." She looked up at Diego.
"Rest first, darling," he told her.
She accepted his nudge towards the house, and the three of them walked into the courtyard.
"Maria! Draw hot baths for them!" Alejandro called to the servant girl.
"Si, Don Alejandro," came the reply.
"What a blessed sight she is," Elizabeth said.
"Go on up," Diego told her. "I’ll be there shortly."
She nodded and went up the stairs.
Alejandro waited until she was out of sight. "She looks exhausted," he said, eyeing his son.
"It was a longer, harder trip than either of us expected," Diego said, sitting wearily on the edge of the planter surrounding the fig tree. Though he thought about it all the time, he had said nothing at all to Elizabeth about his emerging decision to retire El Zorro. He looked at his father. "You were right. She is going to have a baby. In May."
Alejandro burst into a smile. "I told you!" he beamed, clapping his son on the back. "This is wonderful news, Diego! She doesn’t show it yet."
"I can tell," Diego said.
"Must you give me these details!?"
"You seem to ask for them!" He paused, and then said, "She is very afraid. About having it. About giving birth." He tried to shrug off the shadow. Every night since the one when he had delivered the Mexican baby in Santa Barbara he had awakened in darkness to feel Elizabeth shaking beside him. It often took him half an hour to help her calm down enough to go back to sleep each night. Aside from the sleep disruption, her physical premonition weighed on him. "What news of Los Angeles?" he asked, trying to get it off his mind. "Is there peace and quiet in our pueblo?"
"For the moment," Alejandro replied. "Word reached us that El Zorro ran Diablo through with his sword. I have no doubt that it was a good deed done for all of California."
Diego took a breath. " And did you also hear that Diablo nearly raped Senora de la Vega before encountering that sword?"
Alejandro sobered. "No, I had not heard that. Is she all right?"
"It was too close a call," Diego said, looking up at his room. "She wasn’t hurt, but...this cannot continue." He shook his head. "She was very brave. She is so...." He looked down, suddenly unable to continue. Alejandro waited. The tone in Diego’s voice told him everything he needed to know.
"It would help us if the next few months were completely dull, with nothing more exciting going on than her gardens growing," Diego said.
"We’ll have to make it so," Alejandro said. "You look so tired, my son. What else happened?"
With that, Diego recounted the events in Monterey and on the Camino Real to his father. Upstairs, Elizabeth sank gratefully into a long, hot bath.
Alejandro de la Vega was no fool. Though in their conversation Diego said nothing to him one way or the other about the future of El Zorro, he could read between the lines. He could see how deeply shaken his son remained over what had happened to Elizabeth. He could see the worry lines in Diego’s forehead. He heard the tone of distress in his voice. Even Diego’s anticipation of the new baby seemed compromised by the sobering reality that was setting in.
It was Diego’s description of the events surrounding the collapsed barn that made Alejandro realize fully what was going on in his son’s mind. "I left her in our room at the mission to go and help," he said, "and I knew she would be all right there. Two men died, but it was the first time in years that I was only myself in public. I did not have to worry about her, and I did not worry about revealing myself, either. I just did it."
So, when Diego finally excused himself to go upstairs and make sure Elizabeth was resting comfortably, Alejandro went to the stable and mounted his sturdy brown mare to make the journey himself over to see Carlos. He needed to think. Everything he was afraid would happen, first by telling Elizabeth about Zorro, and then by not instantly suppressing the rumors about her relationship with him, was happening. He knew better than to waste time with himself, much less Diego, saying "I told you so." And he could not talk with Elizabeth’s father about this, for his good compadre was not privy to the secret of Zorro. Yet there must, he reasoned as he began his ride, be something he could do. He knew Diego. For all of his dedication to Zorro’s mission, Diego was first and foremost a man of honor who would do whatever was necessary to protect his family. Now, Elizabeth was his family, and also the mother of their expected child. Alejandro knew deep in his heart what Diego was thinking. He wondered if Elizabeth did as well. And he wondered about the fate of California without El Zorro.
Their siesta was exactly that. Elizabeth slept for three blissful hours after she bathed. Diego lay down beside her in their bed for a while but found himself anxious to check on his favorite horse, and thus disappeared through the secret passages without ever awakening her. He spent an hour reacquainting himself with Tornado in the box canyon, went back upstairs for a quick soak in the tub, and re-entered the bedroom to find his wife still sound asleep. He returned to his place beside her, relieved to find that she was in deep slumber. This allowed him to doze off, too. His last thoughts before losing consciousness revolved around a hope that, being home, nothing would haunt Elizabeth now.
When Diego awoke, Elizabeth was still asleep beside him. The light was gone, they had slept past the sunset. He propped himself up on his elbow to look at her sleeping, something he always loved. She was utterly unconscious, lying on her side facing him. He reached over and ran his finger down her cheek. Her eyes opened slowly and met his.
"We have slept into the evening," he said softly.
"I am not sure I will ever get up from this bed again," she said, still sleepy.
"But I thought you wanted to see your gardens," he teased her gently.
"They may have to come to me," she sighed.
"How do you feel?"
She considered the question, doing a slow inventory. "Everything seems in order," she concluded.
"Not sick?"
She shook her head. "Nothing. La nina is leaving me alone today."
"And you slept well?"
"Oh, very well."
He smiled at her.
"What?" she asked.
"Tonight you get to tell your father he is going to be a grandpapa."
"That’s right," she said, smiling. "He will be impossible, you know. What did your father say?"
"He already knew, but having it confirmed delighted him, as you can imagine. He is certain it will be a boy."
"It isn’t a boy."
"Sweetheart...."
"She’s a little girl," she sighed. "I guess we should get up and dress for supper."
"Si," he said, sitting up in the bed. He lit the candles on the bedstand and looked around. "I must say it is good to be home." He looked at her. "I rode Tornado for a while this afternoon."
"Did you introduce him to Blanca?"
"No!" Diego laughed. "He’s a stallion, darling, he would probably go crazy if he got a whiff of her."
"Oh, she’s not in heat. She’s barely a two-year old."
"He might inspire it." He leaned over and put his lips to her ear. "Just like I inspired you."
"Oh, so you think you had me in heat from the day we met?" she asked.
"I know I did," he said. "From the moment I knocked you off your feet in the moonlight."
She put her head on his shoulder. "It is true," she admitted. Then she looked at him, her eyes twinkling. "But it worked both ways."
"That is true, too," he agreed. "I got a whiff of you and I went crazy."
They laughed, and kissed.
"All right," Diego said, breaking away. "We must get up, or we will not leave this room until morning and that would be very rude."
"Si," she agreed. "And I really must tell Daddy." She looked at him suddenly. "Diego?" she asked.
"What, darling?" he asked, getting up.
"No, come back for a minute," she said.
"Elizabeth, we cannot..."
"No, just come here, I want to ask you something."
He sat back down beside her on their bed.
"What will our daughter call you?" she asked.
He frowned. "Call me?"
"Si. How will she address you? You call your father ‘Father,’ which is so formal. Are you expecting her to call you that?"
"Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves?" he asked. "She won’t even be born for five months, and it will be a while after that before she says anything!" He smiled. "Except to cry, of course."
"But it’s important," she said.
It was one of those moments when Diego sensed that he was not going to say the right thing no matter what. "What do you want her to call me?" he asked, hoping to steer clear of a crisis.
"Not ‘Father,’" she said. "Why are you so formal with him, anyway?"
Diego shrugged. "When I was smaller I called him Papa, but he has been ‘Father’ for a very long time now."
"When did it change?"
Diego frowned. "After my mother died," he answered.
She took his hand. "I have an idea."
"What?" he asked. Then he grinned. "Do you want her to call me ‘Don Diego?’ Or ‘El Zorro?’ Or....‘you, the tall man with the money!’"
She laughed. "That is probably what you will get when she is sixteen! No, I think it would be nice if she could call you ‘Daddy.’"
"But darling that is so American, we are Spanish...."
She looked up at him pleadingly. "But our fox-kitten is part American," she said. "And it is what I call my father..."
He stroked her hand. "If that is what you want, that is what it will be," he said. "But you will have to settle for her calling my father ‘grandpapa,’ he will never allow himself to have an English-sounding name! He would tolerate ‘grandpere’ before anything English."
She nodded, laughing. "She will probably come up with her own names for her grandpapas," she said. She felt happy now. ‘Daddy’ was something she wanted for her child. "I’m ready to get up now," she said, putting her feet on the floor. "I need to get something out of my trunk, Diego, open it for me."
Diego went across the room and pulled out her heavy trunk, shipped from Boston when she and Carlos made their long journey. He then lifted the lid, which always felt like lead on the rare occasions she asked him to open it for her. He turned back to watch as she went to the closet, chose a dress, and pulled it over her slip. She looked at him, smiled playfully, and then danced lightly in a little circle before him, singing "thank you for bringing me home, and for opening my trunk, my handsome caballero." He smiled, shaking his head. She had him wrapped around her little finger and they both knew it. And he didn’t mind a bit.
Carlos Matteo rode a fine young black gelding called Sirocco, whose lineage was more special than anyone except the de la Vegas knew. When he cantered up to Rancho de la Vega that evening, he was greeted by his daughter standing alone at the gate. She looked radiant and had something white draped over her arm.
Carlos dismounted and came to her, lifting her up in his arms and swinging her in a circle. "How I have missed you, my pretty angel!" he said.
"I missed you, Daddy!" she answered, hugging him fiercely.
He let go of her and looked at what was on her arm. "Elizabeth!" he said. "Why on earth have you brought this out?" He took what she held, lifting it before him, and a long, white christening dress of fine Irish lace unfolded.
She smiled at him, saying not a word. He looked at it and back to her. "But this was your mother’s, and then yours...." he said. "I forgot you even brought it to Calif...." his voice trailed off. He looked at her in wonder.
Elizabeth leaned her head slightly to the side, her smile widening.
"Oh, my," he said, his voice thickening. "Are we to use this again before long?"
She nodded slowly. "This summer, I believe," she said. "We will have someone new to christen."
"Elizabeth, Elizabeth," he said, putting his arms around her. "I cannot believe it. My little girl." He kissed her head. "That scamp of a husband of yours certainly managed to rush this! You haven’t been married a year!"
"That scamp of a husband of mine got a lot of cooperation," she laughed into her father’s lapel. "Oh, Daddy, you are going to be a grandpapa!"
"And I suppose Alejandro is insufferable about it," Carlos said. "I can’t believe he said nothing to me about it when he stopped by this afternoon!"
"He is very pleased," Elizabeth confirmed. "And I am sure he wanted to leave the telling to me."
Diego walked through the gate to find the two embraced, and smiled broadly. "Carlos!" he said. "I see she has told you our news."
Carlos let go of his daughter and gave Diego a hug. "Congratulations, son," he said. "You have no idea the joy that awaits you." He held up the christening gown. "This will now have a third generation of Matteos to welcome into the Church! I daresay it is becoming a holy relic."
"Actually I think it would be right to say three generations of Sullivans," Elizabeth corrected her father.
"Sullivans!" he snorted. "Your mother left that name behind her when she married me!"
"I think its work is in the de la Vega family now," Diego said, touching the lacey gown. "It is very beautiful." He looked at Elizabeth. "You never told me you had this."
"I have many treasures in my trunk," she told him.
He grinned at her. "That is true."
"All right, all right," Carlos said, maneuvering them through the front gate and into the courtyard. "Let’s find Alejandro and think about eating. He had better have a particularly fine meal on the table tonight! I suppose I shall have to listen to him lecturing me about how this baby is going to be raised on this rancho and I shall have to trade him my best cattle and fine silks in order to get visiting rights!"
It was on this night that the grandfathers-to-be first toasted the anticipated new arrival. To Diego and Elizabeth’s amusement, Carlos and Alejandro spent most of the evening bickering over who would host a ‘welcome home’ party, aimed also to celebrate their impending parenthood, for the young people. It was finally decided via a chess game, though Diego tried to dissuade Carlos from the wager. Alejandro won.
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