HITCHED

Prologue to a Work in Progress

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Damn Doctor.

Colonel Montoya's hand tightened on the wine filled goblet, his gaze following the movements of Robert Helm, the pueblo's medico. The man is too assured of himself, and a constant thorn in my side. Montoya eyes narrowed perceptibly as he recalled the first moment he truly considered the man an annoyance.

El serpiente. Killed. By the doctor's own hands. Not that ridding the world of that poor excuse for a man was necessarily a bad thing, but that the doctor refused to fall in line as most of the other citizens of the pueblo. He refused to aid the colonel, then and a number of other instances. And by not helping him, he did not contribute to the cause. That was the man's downfall.

A frown marred the colonel's face as he recalled the scene that took place moments ago in the courtyard. The Queen had rescued a man sentenced for not paying his taxes. Not only has she removed the peon from the prison, but provided the man with money she had confiscated from his own soldiers as she fled the pueblo. Infidels. Allowing a masked woman to take their earnings simply because she threatened them with her sword.

She escaped…again. With no aid of the Doctor. He merely stood there as the commotion occurred, staying only to tend to those who had received a few scrapes and bruises. Damn the man's indifference. He is of no use to me when he could be. The cause would not be furthered.
The colonel's eyes brightened as his thoughts centered on his goal, his eyes shifting to the tapestry on his wall. The cloth displayed a hacienda in all its glory, bright and majestic. It sat atop a hill as if reining over the rest of the land. More dwellings encircled the house, a few more haciendas and a pueblo, but then there was land, nothing but plains. The land was ripe and lush. Ready for the picking.

A chuckle breezed passed the colonel's lips as he imagined himself in that hacienda at the zenith, looking down on the rest from his thrown. He would have the power and the money. The crown be damned.

It would be him, and no other. And it would start in California. With the Alvarado home as that hacienda on the hill, controlling the land and its people for all the eyes to see.

He winced visibly at that thought. As much as he wanted the Alvarado hacienda, its mistress was a pain that would have to be dealt with as well. The chit was beautiful, spoiled, and rich. Two of those qualities were certainly a plus, but the third weighed heavily on her attractiveness. The senorita, like any other youthful, female Spanish aristocrat, had not a thought in her mind for anything other than herself. Though the colonel questioned her level of intelligence, she was smart enough to cling to her family land, which proved to be annoying. I removed the father from the picture, and now I must deal with the daughter.

Montoya sighed, swirling the amber liquid in the goblet, pondering his predicament. Helm and the senorita. Both vital parts of the pueblo yet trying to him. What to do about the two? How to keep them occupied?

His gaze was drawn to the window again, roaming over the courtyard, his brain mulling over his dilemma. Montoya's eyes settled on one of the object of his thoughts, the senorita as she strolled about the town. Where to, senorita? His gaze lifted to focus on the doctor's door to his office. The Alvarado chit was going to visit Helm. How quaint.

I need them gone. But no, there would be too many questions if those two "mysteriously disappeared." Questions concerning how an aristocrat and a commoner could die in a close time frame. How to be rid of them? How to keep them occupied while he worked for the cause? Occupied… .distracted… engaged.

"Engaged?" the colonel muttered in wonderment. "That's not such a bad idea. Then I can focus on the Queen. Like these two thorns in my side, she can be controlled and molded to fit the picture, if not, erased from it."

His laugh echoed through his office and out into the courtyard as Colonel Luis Montoya settled at his desk to plan.

To Be Continued...