Felipe returned to the guest room just before dawn Saturday morning. The sky was gray with a line of light pink on the eastern horizon. With no clouds in the sky, it was going to be hot. He quietly opened the door to the room and saw Diego standing in the corner watching the still form in the bed, his elbow leaning on the fireplace mantel.
“*Any change?*”
“No. She slept through the night; the coughing has increased though. That should be a good sign.”
Felipe felt slight relief as his patron patted his back and left the room. At the sound of the closing door, the girl stirred and began to cough. Anna quieted into slumber as Felipe walked to the bedside.
In the dim light, he could see the paleness of her face. Her hair was stringy on the pillow, her eyelids dark, her wrists bruised from fighting. Yet still he loved her.
Deep in thought, Felipe walked to the window and opened the curtains. The pink glow filled the room. The young man walked to the other side of the room and opened the other windows. He settled into the chair by the bed, set his feet out in front of him, and crossed his legs at the ankle.
On the high bed, Anna rolled over in her sleep to her right side, now facing him. Her right hand fell onto the pillow by her face. Felipe lost the battle to control his eyes and slowly they traced from the curve of her shoulder to the curve of her hip. She was beautiful. The girl returned to her back, her hand remaining on the pillow. Inhaling deeply, the young man shifted in his seat, his shoes scuffing the hard floor.
Felipe caught his breath, as Anna’s fingers began to move. Sitting up straight, he saw her eyelids flutter open. She had a look of confusion on her face, yet her eyes were clear and lucid as they searched the room for answers.
Where am I, she thought, her eyes tracing the posts of the bed and the windows to her left. It seems to be the de la Vega hacienda, but how—
Felipe shifted in his seat, and Anna turned and sat up in defense. The sudden movement triggered a new wave of coughing. Felipe stood to help her as she pulled her knees under herself, the paroxysm racking her body. He put his arms around her to support her. When the coughing subsided he let them slip away from her body. The young man stood at the side of the bed as Anna sat kneeling on the mattress catching her breath. She was looking down, avoiding his eyes.
Gently, Felipe placed his hand on her face and raised it to look at him. Their eyes met and his heart skipped a beat. No words were needed. Felipe carefully sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her into his arms. Anna laid her head on his chest, and as the morning light filled the room, she felt safe.
Marta walked to the door of the guest room and stopped. She heard movement and coughing. Gingerly, she turned the knob and peeked inside, ready to slam the door if she the girl out of her head again. To her surprise, she saw Anna sitting up in bed and Felipe at the basin pouring a glass of water.
“Buenos dias!” she exclaimed and walked into the room. “You are feeling better, I see!”
Anna gave a shy smile, and Felipe returned to her with the water.
“Can I get you anything?” Marta asked the young man.
Felipe signed in response.
“Yes, of course. I’ll get Don Diego immediately.” she said and left the room.
A few minutes later, Diego hurried into the room, still buttoning his white shirt. Felipe rose from his chair at his patrons entrance. The elder man looked down at Anna lying on the bed.
“+How do you feel?+” he asked, brushing her hair away from her forehead and feeling for fever.
“+Sick.+” she answered weakly.
“+I imagine. You had us worried. Can you sit up?+” he asked.
“+I’d like to.+”
“+Yes, it should help you breathe better.+” Diego helped the girl sit up and then sat down on the bed beside her, “How is your arm?+”
Anna glanced down at the bandage on her upper arm. “+Sore. It seems like it will be okay, though. My hip is sore, too.+”
Diego nodded. “+It’s bruised. I think that’s where you fell off of your horse.+”
“+I suppose Senor Martinez has Lady now+.”
“+Yes. Lady returned to the tavern after you were thrown off. Don Eduardo and Rosa took her with them when they returned to Spain on Wednesday.+”
Anna furrowed her eyebrows in surprise, “+What? They’re gone?+”
“+They told Victoria that you were released.+”
“+Released? What did they mean by that? I’m a political prisoner.+”
“+You were a political prisoner. You may now travel and do as you please.+”
Anna slowly nodded her head as she comprehended the immensity of Diego’s last statement. Abruptly she stopped, “+Wait, you said they left on Wednesday? What day is today?+”
“+Anna, you were unconscious a long time. It’s Saturday.+”
“+Saturday! Oh, no! I have to be in Santa Barbara tomorrow!+” the girl pushed back the covers to get out of bed.
“+Whoa! Whoa! You’re not going anywhere!+” Diego said, his hand on her shoulders. “+Besides, it takes a good three to four days to get to Santa Barbara. You wouldn’t make it by tomorrow anyway.+”
Anna beseechingly clasped her hands and pleaded, “+Please, I-+“ she stopped when she saw her arms. “+What happened to my wrists?+” she asked looking from Diego to Felipe. Felipe looked away and rubbed his neck.
“+You were very sick; you didn’t know what you were doing or saying+.” Diego explained.
Anna’s eyes grew wide, “+Did I hurt anyone?+”
Diego looked over at Felipe. The other man shook his head and signed, “*No. You didn’t hurt anyone.*”
The girl closed her eyes, relieved. Diego spoke, “+Why do you need to go to Santa Barbara+?”
“+I- um, I-+“ Anna stammered.
“+Does it have anything to do with some council?+”
“+What do you mean?+” Anna asked startled.
“+You spoke often of a council and a conviction in your sleep.+”
Anna’s hands flew to her mouth. “+What else did I say?+”
“+Nothing much. Most of it was unintelligible. Now, what is all this about Santa Barbara?+”
Anna nervously picked at the sheets. “+I was going to meet someone who would take me back to England+.”
Felipe’s face fell. “*The man who was at the tavern this week? The one you left with? *”
The girl nodded. “+It doesn’t really matter now though. He leaves tomorrow whether I am there or not.+”
“+Why would this man leave without you? Who is he?+” Diego asked.
“+He’s an old friend of Matthew’s, and he knew that there was still a chance that I would stay here.+” Anna said. Felipe raised his eyes to meet hers. “+He wanted it to be my decision.+”
“+And you had decided to go+.”
“+Yes.+”
They fell silent for a moment.
“+If you like, my father and I will help you get back to England when you are able to travel+.” Diego offered.
Anna looked into his face with a sad smile. “+That’s very kind. Too kind. But as I said, it doesn’t matter now.+”
“+What do you mean+?”
“+If I am not on that ship, I am stripped of my citizenship. I couldn’t return to England even if I tried. I have no country now.+”
“+I don’t understand.+”
“+I know, and I don’t really know how to explain it. It’s very complicated.+” A wave of coughing enveloped Anna and she was unable to speak further.
“+You are tired. You need to rest. There will be plenty of time for explanations later. I’ll have Marta bring you something to eat and hot water for you to bathe.+”
“+Thank you.+” Anna choked out, as the coughing subsided.
“+I am going to bed, as well, but my father and Felipe here will be around if you need us—and, of course, Marta can get you whatever you need+.”
“+You’ve really been too kind. There is no reason that you should do this for me.+”
Diego smiled and patted the English girl’s hand as he rose from the bed.
“+I will check on you later this afternoon.+”
Anna nodded as the two men left the room and closed the door behind them. The girl sat in the stillness alone with her thoughts. Matthew was gone. The dark reality again washed over her. And now James was gone. She had been discharged from service. Her citizenship stripped. Abandoned in California. Stabbed, sick, and wretched. Anna fell face down on the pillow and wept until she escaped into sleep.
With a quick knock on the door, Marta carried the steaming tray into the room. Anna awakened and lifted herself up at the other girl’s entrance. With a timid smile, Marta crossed the room and set the tray on Anna’s lap. The wonderful smells filled the English girl’s nose and she suddenly realized how hungry she was.
“Gracias.” Anna said, returning her smile.
“De nada.” Marta answered. She walked to the windows and closed the curtains and then made other preparations so that Anna could bathe.
Anna ate her breakfast with gusto; she realized that she had not eaten in almost four days. She ate until she was full and then ate more for good measure. Fully satisfied, she leaned back on her pillow.
“Are you finished?” Marta asked.
“Si. Gracias.” Anna responded.
Marta helped Anna undress and get into the large washtub to bathe. As Anna washed, the Spanish girl changed the linens on the bed and laid out a fresh night gown for Anna. Marta then helped Anna wash her hair.
Marta was very nervous. This girl had just fought Don Diego and Felipe! She couldn’t imagine. The girl didn’t seem to be insane—she even seemed friendly. It didn’t make sense.
Anna took Marta’s arm to climb out of the tub. Marta wrapped a huge brown towel around her. After drying off, Anna pulled on the clean nightgown and draped the towel over the edge of the tub. Turning back to the bed, she stepped squarely on the soap. Her feet slid out from under her and she toppled to the floor.
Marta gasped and rushed to Anna’s side, seeing that the girl was crying. Kneeling on the floor, Marta then realized that the English girl was not crying, but laughing! Relieved not only that Anna was not hurt but that the tension was broken, Marta smiled, too, and soon was laughing along with the other girl.
The sun was setting as James climbed aboard the ship in the harbor at Santa Barbara. He sighed, knowing that Anna was not going to make the Sunday deadline. She had always been one of those people who were early for everything; if she was not there on Saturday night, she would not be there at all. He dropped his duffel bag on the deck and looked out at the flaming ball over the waters.
Even in this horrid desert, Anna Baker was beautiful. He pulled the parchment discharge papers from his jacket. Anger boiled within him as he read them again. He had argued against this move by the council. It’s true that the Wyclythe group had failed, but to cut off unreturned links? He wanted to rip up the papers and scatter them into the sea, but he didn’t. Instead he refolded them and placed them back in his jacket. If he returned that papers to the council without Anna, they would strip her citizenship. It seemed cruel to him and he wondered if he should continue in his own commission. Perhaps he should retire and move to the countryside, work as a farmer—anything but deliver papers like these.
A commotion sounded on the dock. He walked to the port side railing and down onto the planks. Spanish lancers were swarming the area. Their commander was calling up to the ship’s captain demanding that they be allowed onto the deck.
“Si! Si! Commandante!” the compliant captain agreed.
The Commandante of Santa Barbara stepped aboard the ship, flanked with soldiers. His eyes bored into James’, and James knew why he was there.
“Leftenant James Watson, under the authority of the crown of Spain, I arrest you on charges of international espionage. Seize him!” he called to his lancers.
James drew his sword, ready to fight. He feared not for himself, but he must have time to destroy the papers in his jacket. He lunged and parried as he fished in his jacket for the papers again. Grasping the parchment, he threw it to the deck where it was immediately trampled to pieces by the fifteen lancers who overpowered him.
The soldier drug James down the gangplank and onto the dock where he was placed in manacles and chains. The commandante strode to where James had been standing and picked up the shreds of paper. They were wet and smudged and torn, but as held up the largest piece, he turned his head and was able to read one name: Anna Rebecca Baker.
Dr. Hernandez put down his stethoscope and turned to the waiting audience.
“Well, she seems to be much better. A few more days of rest and she should be getting around just fine.”
“Very good! That’s wonderful to hear!” exclaimed Diego.
“Just keep her in bed at least until Tuesday. On Tuesday, I think she can begin to walk around the hacienda and outside. Nothing strenuous, though. And, of course, if there are any problems or complications, right back to bed.”
“+What on Tuesday?+” Anna asked Diego.
“+You can get out of bed and walk around the hacienda and outside.+”
“Oh, good!”
Dr. Hernandez packed his bag, “Well, I think I’ll stop in to see Alejandro and then make my way home.”
“I’ll show you to the salon.” Diego said, helping the elderly gentleman with his equipment.
“Gracias, Diego.”
The two men left the room, leaving Anna with Marta.
“Marta?” Anna asked after the door was closed, “Clothes. +I don’t have any clothes+” she said shaking her head.
“We’re about the same size; you can wear some of mine.” Marta answered.
“Your clothes?”
“Si.”
“Oh, thank you!”
“I’ll see what I can find.” the Spanish girl said, then left the room.
Felipe sat in the cave on a stool by the large wooden table. Leaning on his elbow with one arm, and fingering the pages of a closed book with the other, he was the picture of dejection.
“Going to sit around and mope are you?” said Diego walking down the stairs.
Felipe looked up from his sorrow.
“Wooing, mi amigo,” Diego began, “is one of the greatest frustrations of man. A man is loath to endure it, yet he is loath to be without it.”
“*So what do I do now?*”
“Well, I still think you are too young, but I seem to be outvoted by Victoria, my father, and just about everyone else. But I do know that I have not taught you to sit down and cry. You are a stronger man than that. I taught you to brush yourself off and go at it again. No matter what goal you are trying to achieve.”
Felipe sighed and ran his hands over the cover of the book.
“Persuasion, mi amigo.” Diego said, “Persuasion is the key.”
The commandante of Santa Barbara returned to his quarters Monday night tired but fulfilled.
“One less English pig to worry about.” he said to himself, mulling over the successful execution of James Watson. He sat at his desk and looked over his papers, “And one more to go.”
He pulled out a clean sheet of parchment and dipped his quill in ink. He began to write: “Commandante DeSoto. It has come to my attention that there is in Pueblo de Los Angeles a danger to the crown…”
