PART 1
Felipe Cortez leaned against the wooden railing, watching the cream-colored pregnant mare lumber back and forth in the corral. The de la Vega breeding barn's rock facade loomed in the background. The deaf-mute servant boy bit back his lips to keep from crying. He couldn't stop thinking about his godparents, Paco and Alicia Lopez, or their orphaned nephew, Rafael.
For a moment, Felipe scowled at the wisps of clouds drifting across the sky. The November sunlight beat down on his head, as it had done every day since his arrival. Beads of sweat trickled down his face. In the nine days since Felipe had started working for the de la Vegas (and the 12 days since he had first come to Los Angeles), it had not rained once. For that matter, it had not rained at all since the seven-year-old boy had arrived in California over two months before.
It's always sunny here, the little boy thought. Don't it ever rain? It rains a lot in San Miguel!
Felipe removed a soft cotton handkerchief from the top of his white cotton trousers and wiped his face, then stuffed it back into his trousers. His wooden rosary nestled next to his handkerchief. The smooth beads pressed against his skin. Rubbing his nose, he again thought of the Lopezes.
Felipe's father had been a peon and a tenant farmer. His neighbor, Paco Lopez, had lived on a nearby tenant farm with his wife and nephew, two miles from San Miguel de Bajio, a village in central Mexico. Paco had been like an uncle to Felipe, and Rafael had been like a cousin. Godfather Lopez had told the two boys many stories and had played them songs on his mandolin; Rafael had played with Felipe. Godfather Lopez had made Felipe feel safe and loved whenever he was around, and Rafael had been a marvelous playmate. Now Felipe's relationship with his loving godparents and his best friend had been severed permanently. He missed them terribly, as he did his mother.
It's not fair! Felipe pouted. Why does Don Diego's cousin have to be called Rafael? He patted the mare's velvety cheek when she approached him. Princesa nuzzled his hand. Rubbing the horse's forehead, Felipe continued to reminisce.
Don Diego de la Vega and his father, Don Alejandro, had received a letter the day before, stating that Diego's younger cousin, Don Rafael, was coming to visit them. Don Rafael's late father had died in Guadalajara that summer. Don Diego and Don Rafael had gone there to say good-bye to him, and to attend his funeral and the reading of the will.
Don Rafael had stayed behind in Guadalajara to assist his widowed mother and older brother. Diego had returned to the pueblo de Los Angeles with his tutor, Jonathan Spencer. On the way, they had run into the revolutionary battle that had killed Felipe's parents. Three days later, they had found the lost war orphan, terrified, grief-stricken, and half-starved. Following a long, futile effort to find him a home, the de la Vegas had hired Felipe to serve them as houseboy. Until he became of legal age, he would be a ward of the church; until he turned 25, he would work as an indentured servant.
Felipe sighed. He had grown to love the de la Vegas, and he knew they loved him. But that didn't stop him from missing his own loved ones. He wiped a tear off his cheek.
I miss my Godfather Lopez, he thought. I want him! He sighed again.
Until recently, Felipe had not thought much about his godparents; his grief had been focused on his deceased mother and father. Ever since Don Alejandro had told him about Don Rafael's imminent visit, however, Felipe had been unable to stop thinking about Rafael Lopez and his aunt and uncle (the don's name reminded Felipe too much of the Rafael he had known). They were probably alive (and maybe by now, back in San Miguel), but Felipe had no way to be with them.
Rafael, Rafael, Rafael. The name sounded in his mind's ear like a chant. A vision of a skinny, wiry, fidgety boy with coal-black hair rose before him. An impulsive, rambunctious boy who used to get into trouble a lot, tease Felipe, and play with him whenever they got together.
The horse suddenly stuck its head over the wooden railing and nuzzled the little boy's forehead. Felipe smiled in spite of his grief. True to his name, he loved horses. Even though he'd never had any direct contact with a horse till Don Diego and his tutor had found him, he had found within himself an affinity with them he'd never known he had on the long journey to California. Back in San Miguel, he had loved animals. His late parents and godparents had each owned a burro and two goats, and Felipe had played with them and helped care for them.
I hope the baby horse hurries up and gets born, he thought. I want to see it. I want to play with it! Without thinking, he inserted his index finger into his mouth.
A hand rested on Felipe's shoulder, startling him. Jerking the finger down to his side, he whirled around to see a laughing Don Alejandro behind him, dressed in a grayish-blue frockcoat and a blue silk vest. In that instant, the fragrant scent of men's cologne wafted toward the little boy's nose.
"This is the third time, lately, that Diego or I have found you out here." The elderly caballero ruffled the boy's hair as he spoke. "Princesa won't give birth for another week, amigo." He inserted his fingers into his vest pockets.
Felipe frowned. A week?! That was too long!
Don Alejandro knelt before him, an amused, yet sympathetic smile creasing his face. "Felipe, trust me; a week is nothing. My son and I have had to wait almost a year for Princesa to give birth. That's how long it takes mares."
He patted Felipe's shoulder and rose to his feet. "We'll just have to be patient, my boy. The day will come before you know it. I guarantee that." He straightened his frockcoat and patted his vest.
Reluctantly, Felipe nodded. Don Alejandro glanced at his gleaming gold timepiece, inserted it back into his vest pocket, then lifted the little boy in his arms. "I'll tell you what. When Miguel tells me the mare's having her baby, I'll let you stay with us until she gives birth. Even if it's in the middle of the night. Deal?" Felipe smiled and nodded. That would be fun.
"Then let's go to the house." Don Alejandro set the boy on his hip. "My nephew's due to arrive any time. I want you to stand in the front garden and let us know when you see a carriage coming, all right?" Nodding, Felipe pressed his fingers into the soft, smooth jacket shoulder.
Minutes later, as Felipe wandered aimlessly in front of the picket fence, a green carriage appeared on the horizon. The little boy stood stock-still and watched. The carriage came closer. A man in a brown suit sat driving the trotting horse.
Felipe raced toward the front door. Darting into the foyer, he found the de la Vegas reclining on a light-blue, silk-brocade sofa in the drawing room. A dark-blue, leather-bound book rested in Don Diego's lap.
"He's here?" Don Alejandro rose to his feet as he spoke. Felipe nodded, pointing toward the polished mahogany door.
Laying the book aside, Don Diego stood up and straightened his ruffled sleeves. He had donned a navy-blue charro jacket and a matching pair of trousers.
The aged don led Felipe out the door. "I want you to open the carriage door when it stops," he told the boy. Obediently, Felipe rushed through the gate just before the carriage halted in front.
The servant boy opened the carriage door, and the caballero stepped out. As Felipe watched, the strange caballero hugged Don Alejandro and then Don Diego. He had brown hair slicked against the sides of his head, a brown beard, and a mustache. He wore a dark-brown frockcoat, a lighter-brown silk vest, and a white silk cravat tied around the collar of his snow-white ruffled linen shirt. A cool breeze suddenly arose, caressing Felipe's cheeks and ruffling his brown hair.
"It's so good to see you, nephew." Don Alejandro smiled, yet there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. He grasped his nephew's shoulders.
"Indeed, is is." Don Diego smiled broadly.
The new don nodded. Clasping his hands behind his back, he turned toward Felipe. "Is that your new indentured servant? The one you told me about in your letters?" As the other two always did, he stood erect, with his shoulders held back.
Don Alejandro nodded. "Si. Permit me to introduce our houseboy, Felipe." He beckoned to the little boy, who slowly approached them with a shy smile. "Felipe, this is my nephew, Rafael de la Vega. His father--my brother--lived in Guadalajara; he's dead now. Rafael owns a horse ranch in Santa Barbara."
Rafael! The word slammed into Felipe's mind. Not fair! Not fair! his heart screamed. Where is my Rafael? Why can't he be here, too?!
Pain, violent pain, surged anew in the little boy's heart. He could stand it no longer. Even if Godfather Lopez was still alive, Felipe would never see him again, or Godmother Lopez, or Rafael either. Paco Lopez would never again tell Felipe a story or play a song for him on his mandolin. Fighting back tears, Felipe rushed through the gate and toward the carriage entrance at the side of the building.
Minutes later, Felipe leaned against the adobe wall on the other side, and wept profusely. The smooth adobe bricks pressed into his arm. He could hold back the tears no longer. I wish Godfather Lopez was here, he thought. I want to be with him! I want him here! I want Rafael!
As the boy crouched against the wall, he thought about the times Rafael Lopez would climb the nearest tree, looking for a branch to make a toy out of...the times Rafael splashed Felipe when they played in the creek, then darted off, laughing, when Felipe splashed him back...the time Rafael jumped out of a bush to scare Felipe...and the times the boys fought over a toy or something else. Felipe and Rafael were the same age, and had known each other from babyhood.
You were the best friend in the whole world, Felipe thought, snuffling. I wish you and Godmother Lopez and Godfather Lopez was here! And Mommy! And Papá!
A hand rested on his shoulder, then gently turned him around. Don Rafael knelt before him, concern etching his bearded face. Without a word, he hugged the boy for a long moment, pattiing his back, then removed a handkerchief from his inside coat pocket to wipe Felipe's face with. Don Diego stood behind his cousin, arms crossed in front of his chest, sadness etched on his expressive, mustached face.
"Blow," Rafael ordered. Felipe did as he was told, then handed the handkerchief to Don Rafael.
"Diego and Uncle Alejandro told me about your ordeal and loss, amigo." The caballero inserted the handkerchief into his pocket. "And Diego also tells me you've told him of a boy you once knew. His name was Rafael, too, was it not?" Felipe nodded, sniffling. He had, indeed, told Diego about his friend only the day before, after learning of Don Rafael's expected visit.
Don Rafael brushed Felipe's brown hair out of his eyes. "Well, you know, Felipe, I'm in grief, too." Pain etched his face. "My father died in Guadalajara last summer, and I miss him terribly. You and I both lost loved ones last summer. And that makes us feel very sad."
Felipe nodded. It sure did.
With a comforting smile, Don Rafael straightened his back while remaining crouched. The clean, spicy smell Felipe had come to associate with caballeros emanated from Rafael's clothes. "While I'm here, we'll just have to comfort each other, you and I." His eyes twinkled. "My uncle tells me you love his horses." Felipe nodded, surprising himself with a wan smile.
"Well, so do I." This time, Don Rafael's smile looked genuine. "I love horses, too. I always have, ever since I was younger than you. As a matter of fact, I intend to go over my uncle's breeding stock while I'm here. I'm hoping that'll help take my mind off my loss and give me something new to think about. I may want to buy some foals from him later."
Don Rafael patted the boy's shoulder. "Why don't you accompany me, Felipe, and we'll look at the horses together? I have a hunch you could use something new to think about, too."
Felipe smiled and nodded. That would be fun. And maybe it would help make him feel better. He gazed up at Don Diego. A worried expression creased the caballero's forehead.
"Felipe doesn't know how to ride, Rafael," Don Diego warned his cousin. "You'll have to inspect the horses on foot if you take Felipe with you." He clasped his hands behind his back as he spoke.
Don Rafael rose to his feet. "Si, Diego. I'll just take him to the barns and the stables." He gazed down at the boy and smiled. "This is quite a boy you have here." He squeezed Felipe's shoulder.
Don Diego smiled tenderly at Felipe as he nodded agreement. "Felipe is a sweet, lovable boy. He has a way of winning people's hearts, believe me."
"Si, I can see that." Don Rafael laughed as he inserted the fingers of his left hand into one of his vest pockets. The breeze played with the ends of the caballero's hair.
Don Diego turned to Felipe. "My cousin Rafael is a good man. Steady, responsible, and gentlemanly." Don Rafael smiled his thanks.
His expression turned serious. "Uh, Diego, my uncle told me earlier that one of your mares is getting ready to foal."
"Yes, she is." Diego frowned. "However, we fear it's not going to be an easy birth. Princesa's already lost two foals; we fear she may also lose this one, and possibly her life as well. Miguel's keeping a special eye on her." His cousin furrowed his eyebrows in concern.
"I should like to see her." Rafael smoothed his brown frockcoat.
Diego glanced at his timepiece as it gleamed in the sunlight. "Certainly. There's still some time before my lessons start. Would you like to come, Felipe?" The little boy nodded and smiled. The three set off toward the breeding barn.
END OF PART 1