EPILOGUE
"Diego!" Don Alejandro strode into the library, where his son and his 18-year-old grandson waited impatiently. "You have two beautiful baby girls! Twins! You have two sisters, Felipe!"
Don Diego and Don Felipe leaped to their feet, joy transfixing their faces. Behind them, a crackling fire blazed merrily in the fireplace. Outside, a February downpour pounded the desert.
A year had passed since the Sanchez family had stayed at the de la Vega hacienda. Since that fateful visit, Pedro Sanchez had been a changed man. He now went to church regularly and prayed with his rosary every night. He never drank, anymore. Sancho often told Don Felipe and Sergio that, even though Señor Sanchez was still strict, he was now so gentle and kind and loving, it felt as if Sancho had a new father. The news pleased the de la Vegas greatly.
Sergio, now 14, served Don Felipe faithfully and well. He had recently graduated from the foil to the epee, and Don Felipe was making good progress in learning to use the saber. The two boys had a strong bond. Rafael had become a skilled farmer, and prided himself on the quality of the cattle and horses he bred. His dream was to become a rich landowner, eventually. In March, Don Alejandro had moved to the cuartel, and Don Diego and Doña Victoria had moved into Don Alejandro's old quarters. Don Diego had since been in full charge of the ranch.
Doña Victoria, pregnant since the previous May, had gone into labor the night before. Twenty-seven hours had since passed. Because she had been having problems with her pregnancy and then had had difficulty with her labor, Dr. Hernandez had come to deliver the baby.
As Don Diego and his son gazed at Don Alejandro, the elderly caballero looked sad. "Is something wrong, Father?" Worry clouded Don Diego's face.
Don Alejandro nodded. "I'm afraid so, son." He paused, leaning against the black shelves. "Your new daughters are healthy and well-formed; that's the good news. The bad news is, you won't be fathering any more children." Don Diego and Don Felipe froze, stricken.
Don Alejandro shook his head. "Victoria had so much trouble giving birth, Dr. Hernandez was forced to remove her womb to save her life. She'll never be able to have another child. She's awake now, but she's quite weak; Dr. Hernandez had to put her to sleep this morning, with the ether. It'll be a few weeks before she's strong enough to resume her normal activities."
Don Diego took a deep breath as he fought to contain the disappointment evident on his face. He then looked at his son and smiled bravely. "Then we were wise to adopt this young man, weren't we, Father? Otherwise, Victoria and I would have been deprived of sons." Don Alejandro nodded agreement.
Don Diego paused a moment, then a genuine smile spread across his face. "And now, my son, let's see these new sisters of yours!" Grinning broadly, Don Felipe nodded.
In the bedroom that Don Diego and Doña Victoria shared, Doña Victoria sat propped up by pillows. Dr. Hernandez, Francisco, Ramon, and the de la Vegas' new nanny, hired recently by Don Diego, stood by the bed; the new niñera, recently hired by Don Diego, leaned against the wall. Victoria smiled weakly as her husband, son, and father-in-law approached. Two babies lay in her arms.
"Be quiet," Dr. Hernandez warned. "The new mother's weak and exhausted from her ordeal, and she needs her sleep. So do the babies."
Doña Victoria nodded her acquiescence, then smiled at her husband and son. "Aren't they beautiful, Diego?" Her voice sounded feeble.
"They certainly are." Don Diego's face shone with joy as he sat perched on the edge of the bed and gazed at his new daughters. "They're so tiny," he marveled. Inside, Don Felipe agreed.
Doña Victoria beckoned to the boy. "Come closer, my son. Look at your new sisters!"
Don Felipe leaned over the side of the bed and ran his palm over each baby's silky-soft head. "What are their names, Mother?"
"The black-haired girl, we're calling Ana." Doña Victoria rested her hand on the baby's shoulder. "And the little girl with the brown hair, we've named Dolores, after Don Sebastian's daughter. Hold one of them!"
Don Felipe picked up Dolores. He cuddled the baby in his arms and gazed at his new sister for a long moment. "They're so beautiful," he said, looking from Dolores to Ana.
After Don Felipe laid Dolores down in the crook of his mother's left arm, he swallowed. "Are you sorry that God didn't give you a daughter and a son? Instead of two daughters?"
Don Diego touched his arm. "He did give us a son, Felipe. You. The good Lord has given Victoria and me a fine son and two beautiful daughters. I'd say we're truly blessed."
"And I'd say you're right, Diego," Victoria added, smiling affectionately at her adoptive son. Don Felipe smiled gratefully as his father gently squeezed his arm.
"I--I just wish I could be here to watch them grow up." Don Felipe bent down to kiss Dolores and pat Ana. "Instead of going to the university."
Don Diego's old tutor, Jonathan Spencer, had taken over Don Felipe's education the previous April. Don Felipe's father still taught his son law and the physical sciences, as well as art, music, and swordsmanship, but the elderly English gentleman taught the boy everything else. Don Diego himself had become a lawyer, the previous summer, and he had since built a flourishing law practice. Señor Spencer and Don Diego were preparing Don Felipe for the entrance exams at Madrid University. Don Felipe was slated to go when he turned twenty-one. Until that time came, he would continue to perform a farm task once a week for a two-hour stretch, as he had done until then.
In the meantime, Don Felipe and his mother each tutored groups of the servants' children in reading, once a week. Don Felipe also tutored Sancho, separately. He intended to have his students proficient in the basics of reading, writing, spelling, and arithmetic before he left for Madrid. Hopefully, they would be able to go to the mission school afterward.
"I know, son." Don Diego smiled at the boy sympathetically. "I felt the same way when I went to Madrid, 11 years ago, because I wouldn't have the pleasure of watching you grow into young manhood."
"You'll be here for the next three years, Felipe." Don Alejandro put an arm around his grandson's shoulders. "You'll get to enjoy your new sisters until they're three years old. And when you leave, we'll write to you every month, just as you and I did your father. And we'll keep you posted about your sisters' growth."
Don Felipe nodded and looked down at his signet ring. It had to be, he knew. As a de la Vega, he had no choice. They want what's best for me, he reminded himself. That's why they're sending me to Madrid.
"Felipe, my son, remember the day you wanted to join the army?" Don Diego reminded him. Don Felipe nodded, remembering. "You wanted to see the world, you told me."
Don Felipe grimaced. "Si, I did. I also remember that you didn't want me to. That was the day I saw the murder of the Monterey coach driver--the day the killers came after me."
"It certainly was." Don Diego hugged the young man to his side. "And no, I didn't want you to become a soldier, because I wanted more for you than that. And I still do." The caballero smiled. "I also want you to have a chance to see the world. Every young man deserves a chance to do that, and you shall get yours when you go to Madrid University. You'll learn everything in the books there, make new friends, and improve your swordsmanship skills."
"And don't forget, my boy, you'll go on a Grand Tour of Europe, afterward," Don Alejandro reminded him, inserting his thumbs into his vest pockets. "For two or three years, you'll have an opportunity to travel all over Europe and see all the sights. You'll get to visit London, Paris, Rome, Vienna, Berlin, you name it. When you return from Europe, you'll spend a year or two in Mexico City. Then you'll come back to Los Angeles and become a lawyer like your father, here, and you'll have so much to tell your sisters!"
"My own children, too, I hope." Don Felipe gazed at the babies again. "I want to marry Dolores Valverdi, you know."
The other de la Vegas smiled. They did know. Señorita Dolores Valverdi was the only daughter of the late Don Sebastian Valverdi, and she was beautiful, smart, well-bred, gentle, and shy. She and Don Felipe had been in love for the past two years.
"I hope I'll be a good lawyer like you, Father."
"Don't you worry about that, Felipe." Don Alejandro smiled. "With your own father to go into partnership with, you won't fail to."
"I'll see to that," Don Diego added. "Together, my son, we'll see that all who come to us get justice. How does this sound, Felipe: 'De la Vega and Son'?" Don Felipe grinned at the thought.
The young caballero leaned against his father. Inside, he felt so happy and content. He had everything, now--a loving mother and father, a wonderful grandfather, two uncles, cousins in Santa Barbara (Don Rafael and Doña Margarita had three young children, now), great friends, and now, two baby sisters. And great wealth and position such as he had never dreamed of, when he had been a Cortez.
And people to show me how to use it well, he thought, gazing down at his signet ring. As God wants me to do.
With a smile, the boy glanced down at his charro jacket. He had so much to look forward to! Someday, like his father and grandfather, he would attend Madrid University, only he would study law. After his graduation, he would go on a Grand Tour, and then spend a year or two in Mexico City. Then he would return to Los Angeles and devote his life to public service, and to being a good patrón and landlord and lawyer.
And if the good Lord was willing, he would marry Dolores and pass on the de la Vega name through his own sons and daughters (with God's help, he would be a good husband and father). And one day, when his time came to die, he would bequeath his rosary to his eldest child, as his late mother Consuela had told him to do. Truly, Don Felipe was blessed. He bent down and kissed Ana's soft cheek, as she gurgled, before the niñera stepped forward to take the babies from their exhausted mother.
The End