THE COURTING OF TESSA

Disclaimers: Fireworks owns the copyrights
Rating: G
Feedback: yes, please <g>

~~~~~
CHAPTER 4: BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR

She watched the cheering crowd carry him away, the feel of his lips still warm and pulsing on her own. There was thundering in her ears. Was that her heart? No, it was real thunder. Tessa looked up just as the black cloud hanging over the pueblo opened up to discharge huge wet drops that stung her face. A coat was suddenly flung over her head and she felt herself being moved briskly toward the church.

Though its shelter was only steps away, Tessa's skirt was soaked by the time they hurled themselves through the heavy doors into the church's dim interior. Others had the same idea and soon the pews and aisles were filled with those seeking sanctuary from the sudden downpour. As the crowd milled around the church, the odour of wet clothing mingled with the scent of beeswax and incense. The candles danced each time the door opened to admit a gust of wind and a soaked refugee from the storm.

Pulling the coat off her head, she looked into Arturo's smiling face. His dark hair curled wetly over his brow, and streams of water ran down his cheeks. He didn't seem to notice. His gaze was fixed on her so intently she had to look away. She saw Marta moving sedately to the front of the church. Tessa watched her light a candle and wondered vaguely what the Gypsy woman was praying for.

She could still feel his eyes upon her, their heat seemed to burn her, making her too warm in spite of the coolness of her damp clothes. 'How can this be?' she thought in consternation. 'How can I be so attracted to two men - two men who are so utterly different? I must have the soul of a harlot - fickle and undeserving of love.'

She felt Arturo pick up her hand and squeeze it gently to recapture her attention. With his thumb, he stroked her palm slowly, then lifted her hand to his lips. She snatched it away as Marta turned and came back down the aisle toward them. He was too close, confusing her. She wanted him to go somewhere else, give her space to think, but they were trapped by the rain. The drumming on the church roof was so loud, it drowned out the murmurs of conversation flowing through the crowd.

Marta stopped behind the pew they were sitting in, and remained like a sentinel. She noted the high colour on Tessa's cheeks and the anxious look in her eyes.

Tessa turned to Marta. "Isn't it strange how we have prayed for weeks for rain, and then we get it today, when we don't want it?" Tessa's voice sounded breathless, unnaturally rushed.

"Sometimes we do get what we think we want, only it may come in a form we don't expect," Marta answered cryptically. She touched Tessa's shoulder affectionately then went to the church door and opened it slightly. The rain, driven by the wind, was sweeping like a curtain through the pueblo. The street was a mire of wide puddles and running streams. She inhaled the scent of the warm earth receiving its life-giving water - a perfume all too rare in this part of the world, she thought.

Marta sighed. They would have find a place to stay in town tonight. Even if the rain stopped soon, the roads would be too muddy to drive the wagon over. She returned to find the padre had come in from the sacristy. His wet cassock hung limply on his lean frame, and created pools on water on the tiled floor.

"The holy sisters have offered their convent to shelter any women who are unable to reach their homes tonight," the priest said over the din in the church. "The men may stay in here. We have been able to save some of the fiesta foods and will bring them to you." With that he went back through the side door.

"You may have my room at the hotel," Arturo offered. "Of course," he added, looking over his shoulder at Marta, "I will find other accommodation for the night."

As Tessa was about to speak, Marta gripped her shoulder, and answered, "That is most kind of you, Señor de Sallas, but I must consider Tessa's reputation. What would people say if they knew she spent the night in your room, even if you were not in it? We must decline your offer." She relaxed her grip to a more gentle hold, and added, "We will avail ourselves of the convent for tonight. Now, if you will excuse us, we should go there before it gets too dark."

Marta could see the resentment burning in his eyes. She knew what he was thinking. Who is this lowborn Gypsy who takes such liberties with her mistress? 'If ever, ...God forbid, ...he chances to marry Tessa, the first thing he will do is get rid of me,' she thought with wry amusement. How unlike her relationship with Doctor Helm - a friendship of equals. Despite the doctor's noble birth, he seemed to hold no prejudices against those beneath him in class.

Tessa arose and stepped out into the aisle, following Marta as she opened the door into the fury of the storm. They raced across the muddy street to the small convent. The sisters had a fire in the fireplace and some old clothes for the women to wear while their own were drying. They were fed a frugal meal and then shown to a tiny cell for the night. The room was slightly larger than a closet and the bed scarcely wide enough for one.

Marta offered to sleep on the floor, and after a long tiresome argument, Tessa finally gave in. She was too dispirited to exert herself against Marta's formidable will tonight. As Tessa lay down on the hard cot, she listened to the rain pounding on the tiles above her.

It was peaceful, just lying there, drifting away in the safety of the convent. "Maybe this is where I belong," Tessa whispered, not sure Marta was still awake. "Perhaps I should have become a nun. Then I would not have all these problems tormenting me day and night."

A hearty chuckle in the darkness made her aware that Marta had heard. "I cannot think of anyone less nun-like than you, Tessita. Except for me," she added with another laugh.

The idea of Marta as a nun did not strike Tessa as very odd. She had always seemed very spiritual, mystical even, and it was not a great leap to imagine her dedicating her life to the service of some deity. Tessa had never been entirely sure of Marta's Christianity. It sometimes seemed like a cloak she wore to hide her true religious loyalty. 'But to what divine being?' Tessa wondered. 'To one or to several?' She did not know. Every effort she had made over the years to penetrate that mystery had met with a jibe or silence. The woman she had known since childhood remained an enigma that she would probably never solve. Tessa yawned, her mind too tired to grapple with this problem tonight.

~~~~~

The next morning, Tessa was helping Marta dry the wagon so they could return home when Vera came toward them, lifting her skirts over the muddy rutted street.

"Hola, como estas?" she hailed gaily as she got close enough. "Where did you spend the night? Colonel Montoya gave Gaspar and me a room in his villa. Very comfortable. He is such a gentleman."

Tessa exchanged a tolerant look with Marta, then smiled at Vera. "The holy sisters gave us shelter in the convent," Tessa replied, as she wrung out a cloth and continued to wipe down the leather bench.

Vera's hand flew to her mouth. "You had to stay in the convent, on those hard cots? How horrible for you!"

"It wasn't so bad, Vera," Tessa said, though she did move a bit stiffly.

"Speak for yourself," Marta added in an undertone. "I felt a lizard crawl across me sometime in the night. At least, I hope that is what it was."

The pretty blonde woman moved closer to Tessa and said, "I have a secret. Do you want to know it?"

Marta picked up a cloth and went to the other side of the wagon. Tessa leaned closer to Vera, and said, "Of course, Vera. You know I can keep a secret."

Vera preened self-importantly, holding back her information with a sense of dramatic moment. "Well, Capitan Grisham told me that a gold shipment made it to Monterrey last week." She waited to see the reaction on Tessa's face and was not disappointed. Tessa was astonished. "Do you want to know how it was done?" She could see her listener was all attention and continued. "Señor de Sallas carried it himself ...in his saddlebags. Who would ever have suspected he was a courier for the Spanish Crown? One of the soldiers went with him, disguised as his servant. Is that not very clever of our colonel?"

Tessa was dumbfounded, at a loss for words for several seconds. "Yes, Vera. That is a truly amazing ruse. Colonel Montoya is a man not to be underestimated." Her mind was in a whirl. So that is what the business in Monterrey was - delivering their tax money to the government coffers. Her stomach seemed to be tied in a knot as she knew what she must do. But could she do it?

The two women chatted for a few minutes more, then Don Gaspar drew up alongside them in his buggy. "Vera," he called affectionately, "Let us go home now, my petal." He turned his affable gaze to Tessa. "Buenos dias, Maria Theresa. You made a lovely queen yesterday. In spite of the rain, it was a wonderful day. Truly memorable. Hasta luego," he added after Vera was comfortably seated next to him. He snapped the whip over the horses and they drove off.

~~~~~

Helm laid a clean cloth on the table then placed his shiny instruments upon it. A sense of pride urged its way through his mind as he contemplated these fine British medical tools, the best money could buy. But he hadn't paid for them, not in cash anyway. They had been given to him by a dying medical officer in the Peninsular War. He recalled the man's face as he forced his precious instrument case into Helm's hands. 'Captain Hardy,' Helm thought, remembering his name. How could he forget? It was this singular event that had changed the course of his life. The captain had, with his dying breath, begged him to keep his medical kit and use it. "You're a good man, Helm. You have the heart of a doctor. You're not a killer, not like the others. Get out of it while you can still call your soul your own."

He glanced at the old leather case with the powder burns scarring its surface. The doctor had been holding it when he was hit by the canister spray from a cannon. He had died quickly, but he had left a legacy. One doctor died, another took up his cause. 'As good a reason as any to become a doctor,' Helm mused.

He was about to check the supply cupboard when his door opened and Helm turned with a wry smile already starting to crease his face. But it was not who he expected. She never knocked on his door but it had long since ceased to annoy him. He merely shrugged it off as one of her less endearing quirks. This time Colonel Montoya pushed through his door and walked in uninvited. Helm's smile faded abruptly. The colonel's visits always brought trouble in their wake.

"Buenos dias, Colonel. What can I do for you today?"

The grey eyes regarded him coolly. The colonel glanced at the array of instruments and picked one up, admiring the fine workmanship. Helm felt his temper beginning to rise watching Montoya casually handling his things. At length, Montoya set the scalpel down and turned with a smile.

"I had assumed you knew how to handle sharp instruments, Doctor, but never did I expect they would include a sword, particularly an epee. It is a gentleman's weapon. I had thought fisticuffs was more your style of duelling." He seemed to be waiting for that barb to sink in.

Helm clenched his jaw firmly against the retort that tried to escape. 'Let him play his little games if it amuses him,' he thought. "Did you want something in particular, Colonel, or did you just come in here to bait me into an argument?"

"Actually, I am curious. Where did you learn to fence like that?"

"Our contract, Montoya, doesn't include your sticking your nose into my business, or my past. Now, if you will excuse me, I will have patients arriving soon." Helm brushed past the colonel and opened the supply cabinet, ostensibly to check on his inventory.

Imperturbably, Montoya leaned against the door, and continued to study him. Finally, the colonel said, "I feel I should warn you, Doctor, about the Spanish code of honour where our women are concerned. We protect our women's virtue and look askance upon any man who trifles with the affections of a woman or impugns her honour. Such a man may find himself called upon to defend himself in a duel. To seem to be courting a lady then to cast her aside would be deemed an insult by any red-blooded Spaniard. I myself might be moved to defend the lady's reputation in such a case. Do you understand me, Doctor Helm?"

"No, Colonel. I don't know what the devil you are talking about. I'm not courting anyone and even if I was, it's still none of your business. Now if you will please allow me to get back to work..." Helm pushed the colonel off his door and opened it, waiting for Montoya to take the hint.

Montoya stepped outside and said, "Some might think your duel yesterday with Señor de Sallas implies that you are vying with him for the lady's favour, perhaps even courting her. Be careful of appearances, Doctor. Some might also suggest that you have formed an alliance with the Queen of Swords. The appearance of wrongdoing is sometimes as dangerous as the actual crime."

"It seems to be enough in this town to get yourself hanged," Helm replied brusquely as he shut the door. He took several deep breaths to regain his self-control. 'Damn the man. He can get under my skin faster than anybody I know. Well, almost anybody,' he smiled to himself, recalling how Tessa Alvarado could raise his temper near the boiling point with only a few words or a look.

He tried to shake off the colonel's warning as nonsense but it wouldn't go away. Why did he challenge de Sallas? Was it the man's overbearing arrogance? His assumption that he had Tessa where he wanted her, in the palm of his hand? Helm had to finally admit that Montoya might be right. If he continued to interfere it would cause talk, probably already was. And what did the señorita think of all this?

Helm had to chuckle over her indignation after the dinner last week. He had certainly put a spoke into de Sallas' wheel that night! He had not seen her again until yesterday at the fair. She didn't seem to harbour any ill will toward him. Quite the contrary, he thought, warming as he recalled that kiss. Could she care that much for de Sallas and kiss him with such tenderness or was he imagining things? 'I'll just have to be more careful from now on,' he decided. 'I wouldn't want her to get the wrong impression of my intentions.' What were his intentions? he wondered. Honourable, certainly. He held her in the highest regard ...well usually.

Guiltily, he thought of the Queen. Was he being unfaithful to her? So far, all he was doing was trying to save a guileless girl from throwing herself away on a gigolo, a fortune-hunter. Wasn't that a worthy thing to do? Surely, her Majesty could not object to his doing what she also did, protecting the innocent. Except he had no intentions of killing de Sallas, only showing him up as the cad he was.

'Next time she visits, I'll tell her all about this little adventure. I'm sure she will laugh at the silliness of it. She has more pressing matters on her mind than romance.' That last thought gave him a pang as he realised he had not seen her for nearly a month. Things had been quiet in the pueblo. No public executions had been scheduled, no reason for her to come into the town recently at all. He had heard about her waylaying Montoya's tax collectors a few weeks back and then nothing. Was she still at large? If anything had happened to her, he would have heard. He sighed. There was no way he knew of to send a message to her, or to meet her secretly anywhere. It was too dangerous for them both.

'What kind of a love affair is that when you never see each other?' He thought of the many poems he had written over the last few months, pouring out his soul into the words, words that she would never see. He burnt all the pages as soon as they were written. Too dangerous if they should fall into the wrong hands. He knew Montoya would not scruple at searching his rooms, as he undoubtedly must have many times by now.

Helm began to pace his office, wishing a patient would come in to distract him from these thoughts, thoughts that seemed to be leading somewhere he feared to go. Unbidden and unwelcome, Tessa's image rose in his mind's eye as she had appeared yesterday. The Queen of the Fair. Another Queen, this one a real woman without a mask. She had worn a dark blue satin gown, her bare shoulders covered by a black lace shawl and her dark hair neatly tucked behind her neck. She had looked regal. All that she needed was a crown.

Finally, his door opened and he turned, relieved, only to find the object of his thoughts standing in the doorway.

~~~~~
CHAPTER 5: VENGEANCE IS MINE

He was staring at her so strangely, like he'd seen a ghost, Tessa thought as she paused in the doorway. 'Did I forget to knock on the door?' she wondered. 'That might account for the dumbfounded look on his face. He doesn't seem to like surprise visits.' She nearly laughed aloud recalling the impromptu visits the Queen had made now and then, catching him off guard.

She moved into the room and glanced around, glad to find no patients waiting yet. "I've come to give you your prize ...the one you won yesterday in the fencing contest," she added as he seemed unable to speak. His eyes moved to her mouth and seemed to be fixed there as he moved toward her. She was suddenly flustered when she realised what he thought she meant. She held out the gold reale. "You left this when those men carried you off." He held out his hand almost automatically and she dropped the shiny coin into it. "Congratulations," she added diffidently.

"I'd rather have the other prize," he said, his voice deepening to a warm timbre. He reached out to take her face into his hands and lowered his lips to hers. A voice, sounding strangely like Montoya's, warned him to stop, to back away. But another more urgent one drove him on. The force of his passion met another equal force - hers, as she twined her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. For a long breathless moment he held her, his blood roaring in his ears. Then he pushed her away gently and stepped back.

"I'm sorry, señorita. That was unforgivable. Won't happen again..." He staggered back and rubbed his hand over his face, appalled at what he had just done. What had come over him?

"Really, Doctor, it's all right..." Her eyes were unnaturally bright, and her face was flushed and radiant.

"No, it's my fault ... please forgive me...I hold you in the highest respect..." He faltered. Her presence was still affecting him and he wanted nothing more than to return to her embrace.

"Nothing to forgive ...you were my champion yesterday and I ..." she tried to move toward him but he stepped further away.

"I don't want you to get the wrong impression..." He could feel the heat rising in his face and he stammered. "It may seem as if I was courting you but..."

She was suddenly very still. "But what?"

"I was just trying to protect you..."

"What do you mean, protect me? From what?"

"From that fortune-hunter, de Sallas. I didn't want to see him take advantage of you."

Her dark eyes suddenly glittered with rage and her chin came up defiantly. He didn't see it coming but when her hand met his cheek, the force spun him around. When he turned back, she was almost out the door.

"He can have you - you deserve each other, and good luck to him!" Helm flung at her retreating back. The door slammed and all was suddenly, deadly quiet in his office. Only his own laboured breathing broke the silence. He went to his shaving mirror, and grimaced at the scalding spot on his cheek now turning a bright red. He touched his chin and thought wryly, 'Good thing she didn't close her fist. She might have broken my jaw. What a wallop she gave me. And for what?'

From her perch on the wagon, Marta saw Tessa coming like a ship under full sail, her skirts billowing behind her and her face like a storm cloud. Marta's shoulders sagged and she thought, 'Dios mio, I give up. This is hopeless.' As she was about to speak, Tessa leapt onto the wagon seat and snatched the reins. With a sharp snap of the traces, the horses bolted forward nearly throwing Marta off the bench.

For several miles, they drove at a breakneck pace until the wagon hit a bump, nearly overturning. Marta grabbed the reins and pulled the team to a halt. "I don't know what is wrong, but it is no reason to kill us both. I'll drive."

Tessa jumped down and began to pace furiously. Finally, she looked up at Marta, who was watching her, concerned. "This must be a record, Marta. Deceived by two men in one day."

"Come on," said Marta, patting the wagon seat. "Tell me about it while I drive us home."

With much prompting, Marta finally managed to get the whole story out of Tessa. "What is the matter with me, Marta? How is it possible to be attracted to two men? Am I fickle?"

"Like many people, you are confusing love with desire. Arturo is very desirable, and that is his stock in trade. He knows how he affects women and uses it to get what he wants. He sees you as a chance to get rich and be able to live comfortably. His kind would also be unfaithful. You could almost count on it. He would have affairs and make your life miserable. It is lucky for you that Vera told you about him. You might have made a big mistake."

Tessa folded her arms over her breasts and stared at the road ahead. "You make me seem rather shallow, being taken in by such a ..."

"Peacock?" Marta added helpfully.

Tessa frowned for a moment then laughed. "I guess so." She sighed heavily. "Whatever I thought I felt for Arturo is gone. What I feel now is embarrassed. He flattered my vanity, and I guess I needed that. But as a steady diet, it would be like too many sweets. One could get sick of it."

"You won't be the first or the last who falls into that trap, Tessa." Marta patted her hand affectionately.

"And I'm no further ahead with Doctor Helm. He thinks I'm a spoiled child with feathers for brains." She turned to Marta. "Yet he kissed me -- passionately." She laughed deprecatingly. "So, is he confusing desire with love, do you think, Marta?"

"I think the poor man is very confused by his feelings for two women who are actually just one," Marta said, nodding her head sagely. "Maybe someday he will put one and one together and get one."

~~~~~

Arturo paced the main salon of the Alvarado villa, beneath the stern eyes of the don's portrait. As Tessa entered, he turned and a warm slow smile spread across his lips. He moved quickly to her side and picked up her hand as if it was a delicate flower. He placed a reverent kiss on the back and continued to hold her hand. "Ah, Señorita Alvarado. I have to once again leave on business for a few days. It breaks my heart to be parted from you. Maybe someday..."

Marta stepped into the room, and said, "Oh, excuse me. I did not know you had a guest." She left the room abruptly.

Arturo pressed Tessa's hand to his heart. "I hope someday we will never have to..."

Marta re-entered the room with a tray on which was a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses. She proceeded to pour a glass, then looked up. "Don't mind me. I'll be finished in a minute." She handed the glass to Arturo, forcing him to drop Tessa's hand.

"Gracias," he growled. "Now if you will please go about your duties, I wish to speak with your mistress."

"Alone?" Marta said, raising her eyebrows. "As her duenna, I cannot allow that. It would be most improper."

"It's all right, Marta. Señor de Sallas is leaving on a business trip and just came to say goodbye." Tessa simpered at Arturo, batting her eyelashes seductively. "Now what was it you wanted to say to me, señor?"

He kissed her hand and bowed briefly, with a glare at Marta. "It can wait until I return from Monterrey. Adios, Señorita Alvarado." He strode rigidly from the room, his booted heels rapping sharply on the tiles.

Tessa laughed as she rushed toward the door leading to the wine cellar. "Come on, Marta. I have to catch up with him before he reaches the Camino Real. There may be too much traffic on that road for a successful ambush. Help me get dressed."

~~~~~

The lasso dropped neatly over the man's shoulders then jerked tight, hauling him backward off his saddle onto the rocky ground of the narrow defile. The riderless horse continued to follow the lead horse through the canyon. The Queen rushed to the fallen rider and wound the rope around him a few more times. His eyes were wide with fear, but she patted his cheek with her gloved hand.

"Cheer up. This way you don't have make that long ride to Monterrey." She whistled and her horse trotted toward her. In one fluid movement, she was in the saddle and galloping toward her quarry. He was not far ahead.

As she closed the distance, Tessa unloosed the whip from her belt, holding the handle and coils in one hand, the reins in the other. So far, he seemed unaware of anyone following him. But, suddenly, he turned and Tessa saw a puff of smoke then heard the loud report of a pistol. The bullet whined by her head. 'Not a bad shot from horseback,' she thought with a chuckle. 'Now that he knows I'm after him, it will be a longer chase.' She leaned over the withers and urged Chico into a faster gallop. Her lighter weight and stronger horse would give her an advantage eventually, she knew. It was just a matter of patience. Gradually, she closed the distance as the canyon opened into a wide plain.

Her quarry stayed on the trail, telling Tessa he didn't know the terrain as she did. She veered off and took a shortcut across country which should put her ahead of him. Not enough time to set up an ambush but maybe enough to surprise him. She rounded a cliff seeming to go in the opposite direction but it led along a dry stream bed that filled whenever it rained. She followed that through a thicket then between a pair of high cliffs. Before her she could see the wide plain again as she emerged from the defile. He was not there yet. And the trail wound just in front of her covert.

The drumming of hoofbeats reached her, like the excited rhythm of her own heart. She watched and waited then there he was, turning in his saddle to see if she was following. She charged at a right angle to his horse, whip at the ready. Too late he saw her as the coils of the whip coursed around his shoulders and Tessa pulled Chico to an abrupt halt.

Arturo landed on the ground with a loud grunt, tangled in the whip. His horse continued to run down the trail. He grasped the thick leather and pulled almost dislodging Tessa but she let go of the whip handle and jumped off her horse. Her sword was already in her hand when she stood over him. The tip of her weapon wavered around his throat.

"I have no quarrel with you, señor. All I want is the gold ...and my whip." She smiled as he struggled to disentangle himself from its leather toils. Taking the whip handle, she gave the whip a flick of her wrist and it fell away from him. Another flick and the whip was coiled neatly around her own body. She enjoyed the almost lewd fascination on his face as he watched her performance.

He got to his feet, and dusted off his clothes, keeping his eyes focussed on her the whole time. Finally, he held out his hands, and said, "We have a problem. You want the gold, the Spanish Crown wants the gold. You both can't have it."

"I don't want the gold for myself. I will return it to the people it was stolen from in unjust taxes. Now, I'm going to get the gold. I'll just take the saddlebag and leave your horse down the trail a few miles. If you don't do anything stupid, no one needs to get hurt." Tessa began to back away to Chico, never taking her eyes off Arturo.

He quickly reached behind his back and pulled out a small pistol. He squeezed the trigger. The tiny shot whined off her sword guard, sending her off balance from surprise. Time enough for Arturo to unsheathe his sword and come at her.

From the first moment of their encounter, Arturo drove her onto the defensive. His longer reach and greater strength gave him an advantage. Even more dangerous was his fencing style, one with which she was not familiar. His movements were economical, short sharp lunges and thrusts, rapid and tight. She could not get through his defence any more than he could get through hers.

She could see him smiling with the enjoyment of the game, a game which he seemed assured of winning. Her arm was tiring from the hard blows he hammered against her sword. She had to do something soon or lose from making a mistake through fatigue.

Suddenly, she fell and rolled away from his thrust, her gloved hand grazing the dirt as she leapt to her feet again. She threw the dust into his eyes, then with all her strength, drove her boot into his groin. He dropped, groaning and writhing, rubbing his eyes.

She kicked his sword away and placed her swordpoint against his throat once more. "Nothing personal", she said with a grim smile. "As my maestro used to say, 'The objective of a duel is not to look pretty, but to come out alive.' I'm sorry for the dirty trick, but it's getting late and I have some gold to deliver. If I were you, I'd get on your horse and keep on going. Montoya doesn't deal kindly with people who fail him. Hasta luego, señor."

With that, she mounted Chico and rode off down the trail after the other horse which she saw grazing about a mile ahead.

~~~~~

Montoya looked up and Grisham whirled as Arturo de Sallas burst into the office. His clothes were dirty and his face murderous. Grisham moved to block his entrance and he thrust the captain aside with his arm.

"Leave us," Montoya said.

"Yeah, get out of here! Who do you think you are, busting into this office?" Grisham grabbed de Sallas' arm and began to push him toward the door.

"I meant you, Grisham," Montoya intoned tiredly. "I want to speak privately with Señor de Sallas."

"Oh. Yes sir, " Grisham said, his voice edged with resentment. "I'll be right outside if you need me."

"You have no idea how reassuring that is," the colonel replied, waving his hand in dismissal.

Once the door was closed, de Sallas advanced on Montoya's desk. But the colonel leaned back in his chair, his grey eyes raking the other man from head to foot. "I take it by your early return that you have failed to get the gold to Monterrey."

"I have failed?" de Sallas shouted, striking the desk with his fist. "Someone leaked information to the Queen of Swords. She has stolen your gold."

"And you failed to stop her." Montoya shook his head wearily. "How could she have known about you carrying the shipment? Only we two knew about it, and I told no one. So it must have been you."

"The leak is here among your own staff, Montoya. A servant listening at doors, a soldier drinking too much, someone's whore to whom secrets were whispered. That is where the leak is to be found."

Montoya steepled his hands in front of him, his eyes narrowing. Suddenly, he arose from his desk and snatched open the door. Grisham stood only a few feet away. He seemed startled by Montoya's sudden appearance.

"Did you want me, Colonel?" he asked.

"No, I was just checking the oil on the door hinges," Montoya replied. He closed the door and returned to his desk. "So much for secrecy," he muttered.

"Next time, Colonel, I will take a different route." Arturo sat down and gazed intently at the colonel.

"There will not be a next time. This gambit has been discovered. It will not work again." The colonel lapsed into a morose silence.

"What about the rest of our agreement? The sale price of the Alvarado property." Arturo bent forward, as if challenging Montoya with his greater size.

"That part is still in force, ...providing you marry the girl and get control of her property. Then you can sell the hacienda to me, and pocket the money."

"What about the girl and her Gypsy?" Arturo smiled wolfishly.

"I will give them enough to get back to Spain. It would be the decent thing to do. Tessa Alvarado could learn a trade or perhaps go to work in one of those new textile mills in Catalunya. A little humility would do her good. As to the Gypsy, who cares?" Montoya settled back and chuckled, his steely eyes glittering. "It all depends on you marrying Señorita Alvarado. How are you progressing?"

"This Doctor Helm keeps getting in my way, as does the Gypsy woman. However, I have Tessa Alvarado practically eating out of the palm of my hand. I have only to propose and she will accept. Following our brief honeymoon ...a little indulgence for all my troubles," he said, leering at Montoya, "I will sell you the hacienda and disappear."

"Excellent." Montoya arose from his desk and shook the other man's hand heartily. He seemed in high spirits as he led Arturo to the door and ushered him through. His brow was knit as the door closed. He returned to his desk and sat down, lost in thought.

~~~~~
PART 6: A VERY UNFORTUNATE MAN

Helm heard his office door open and a heavy tread cross his floor. Helm entered from behind a curtained enclosure, his mouth opening surprise, seeing Grisham wandering around his office. He scowled as the captain sauntered over to a table and seated himself on the corner.

"What the devil do you want?" Helm snarled in English. Almost the only thing he could tolerate about Grisham was that he spoke English, after a fashion. It was a pleasure to hear his native tongue once in a while.

"Listen, Doc, I know we're not exactly friends, but there's something I think you should know. It concerns Tessa Alvarado." Grisham leaned forward and squinted at the doctor. "By the way, what happened to your face?"

Helm turned away to hide the red mark that had persisted all day, despite his efforts with cooling cloths and salves. "Nothing. A bit of sunburn."

Grisham grinned, his blue eyes twinkling. "Looks like you had your faced slapped."

"And you'd be an expert in that area?"

The captain winked and laughed, "I've had my share." He leaned forward to catch Helm's sleeve as he passed. "Who was it - Señorita Alvarado?"

Helm shrugged out of his grasp, and asked, "What makes you think I have anything to do with Tessa Alvarado?"

"Well, you did fight a duel over her. So, I'm guessing you have some feelings for her. Anyway, here's the problem. That de Sallas guy is after her hacienda."

"Now tell me something I don't already know," Helm said scornfully.

"All right. Montoya is behind this guy's play for Tessa. He's supposed to get control of her property, sell it to Montoya for a fraction of what it's worth, then disappear with the money." Grisham chuckled. "As if Montoya would ever let de Sallas get away with his money. Anyway, the point is, the colonel ends up with the hacienda, and Tessa ends up with nothing. What are you going to do about it?"

"Why should I do anything? She's a big girl -- she can take care of herself."

Grisham frowned as he watched the doctor moving about his office, then said, "You don't intend to marry her?"

Helm snorted. "Of course not."

The captain's eyes narrowed sceptically for a moment then he laughed. "So once de Sallas is out of the way, that leaves the field clear for me."

Helm shook his head disbelievingly. "It must be wonderful to live in the fantasy world inside your head, Grisham. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have medications to prepare." Helm gripped the captain by the elbow and steered him to the door, propelling him through and closing it firmly. He leaned against it and drew in a deep breath. It wasn't his problem. She'd made that very clear this morning, he thought, ruefully rubbing his cheek.

~~~~~

The morning sun had climbed over the rocky cliffs above the beach. Tessa slid off her horse to cool it out after their sprint along the sand. The horse was a beautiful dark brown mare, a lovely ride but she was in need of exercise. Unlike her own stallion, Chico, this dainty horse did not have the stamina for prolonged gallops. She led the horse to a small stream that trickled down the cliff and created a small pool in the sand. An abundance of green plants grew around it, like a miniature oasis. The horse slurped thirstily while she held the reins.

Her attention was drawn to a rider trotting down the beach toward her. She recognised him immediately as he posted gracefully on his black horse. 'Arturo de Sallas', she thought as she watched him coming near. He was a beautiful sight with his dark jacket and the white shirt that gleamed in the sun. He rode effortlessly and Tessa thought, 'Is there nothing that he does not do well?' She giggled suddenly and her cheeks warmed as she guessed, 'Yes, he probably does that well too.'

Arturo reined his horse and jumped down beside her. He allowed his mount to drink with the other horse. With a quick bow, he took her hand and pressed a lingering kiss on it as he gazed warmly into her eyes.

"How lucky to find you here on your morning ride. I was hoping we might ride together." He continued to hold her hand, and draw her nearer.

"I am surprised you would know where I ride, Señor de Sallas," Tessa replied coolly, as she tried to withdraw her hand from his grasp.

"Your maid, Marta, told me you were here," he said.

Tessa knew that was unlikely but let the untruth pass. "Well, I was just resting my horse for a few minutes. Now I must return to my hacienda. There are many tasks awaiting me."

"Perhaps we can walk the horses for a bit and talk," he said smoothly, tucking her arm in his as he tried to lead her along the beach.

"What should we talk about, señor?" Tessa asked lightly. "The weather? Local gossip?" Her nervousness showed in her voice, its pitch rising slightly to her own ears.

"Tessa," he began familiarly, placing her hand against his chest, "Do you not know why I come to see you, why my heart aches when I am not near you? Can you not see my feelings for you in my eyes?" He moved closer, his face only inches from hers, his eyes intense and dark. "Since meeting you, I have realised my life would not be complete without you. I am asking you to marry me, Tessa mi corazon."

Her mouth opened in surprise. Tessa looked away, searching for the right words. After a brief pause, she said, "Señor de Sallas. I am honoured by your proposal but I must decline. I am not in love with you, and it would be unfair to lead you to think my feelings might change."

As she tried delicately to pull her hand from him, Arturo suddenly wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight against him. He grasped the back of her neck and forced her to face him as he bent his mouth to hers. "I will change your mind," he whispered against her lips. "Let me show you the passion in my heart."

She quickly overcame the shock of the sudden attack and began to struggle which only seemed to amuse him. He pressed his mouth hard on hers, trying to force her lips open. She bit his lip and he growled angrily as he drew back. "You have more spirit than I suspected." He grinned wolfishly and crushed her against his body. Her vain attempts to break his hold caused them to topple onto the sand. Tessa thought of the dagger in her boot, but there was no way she could get to it. He held her pinioned on the ground with his weight.

He chuckled in her ear, "After this you will have to marry me. No other man will have you." His words sent her into a new frenzy of effort to break his hold, but he seemed relentless as he ground his mouth against hers again. He was crushing the breath from her.

Suddenly the weight was gone and she rolled away, searching her boot for the dagger. As she grasped it and lurched to her feet, she saw two men locked in combat. Arturo's nose was bloodied and the other man, Doctor Helm was landing another blow to his mid-section followed by an uppercut to the jaw. Arturo staggered, still belligerent and tried to grapple with the doctor, but Helm stayed out of his way. He smashed his fist into Arturo's face, coldly watching as the other man fell into the sand. He pushed him with his foot. "Get up!" he snarled. "Get up. This isn't finished yet."

Arturo scooped up some sand, and Tessa yelled, "Look out," but too late. Arturo tossed the sand into Helm's eyes, making him defenceless against the blows his opponent rained on him. Helm fell, still trying to clear his stinging eyes and Arturo began to draw his sword.

Tessa moved quickly when she saw the sword appear in his hand. Stepping behind Arturo, she placed the dagger point on his neck, and said, "Drop the sword. Don't think I won't use this after what you tried to do to me." She pressed the point and he gasped, releasing his sword onto the sand.

Helm was again on his feet and advanced on Arturo with his fists balled and ready to finish the fight. Tessa stepped out of the way. The two combatants clashed again, Helm being the aggressor as he smashed blow after blow on his opponent until Arturo staggered and fell, his hand held up in supplication.

"Enough," he grunted. "I've had enough. You win."

Helm grabbed him by the back of his jacket and tugged him to his feet. "Get out of here, and if you ever come near this lady again, we'll fight another duel. This time with unguarded swords. Is that clear?" The doctor, obviously disgusted, pushed him toward his horse. Arturo mounted. He cut a far different figure than the handsome cavalier who rode so confidently down the beach earlier. His jacket was torn and dirty, his white shirt spotted with blood, and his face a mass of bruises and welts. He glared down at Tessa through a pair of baleful eyes, one of which was puffy and starting to close. He turned the horse and cantered down the beach and out of sight.

Tessa sheathed the dagger in her boot and hurried to where the doctor was leaning against her horse for support. His breathing was harsh and ragged. If Arturo looked battered, Helm looked only slightly better. His white shirt was torn, and he was covered in sand and dried seaweed. A cut near his mouth was bleeding, as were his knuckles. She was at a loss for words, so she brushed off his shirt, dislodging sand and tiny shells onto the beach. She waited for him to say something but he seemed too winded, as he leaned over grasping his knees, catching his breath.

Finally, he straightened and looked at her. "Are you all right?" he asked gently. His concerned look and caring words seemed to break through an invisible barrier as they moved together.

She pressed herself to his chest and for a moment he hesitated, then enclosed her with his arms. She could hear his heart thundering under her ear as she lay her head against it. For a long time, she waited to regain control as tears tried to force themselves past her eyes. "Why did you come here this morning?" she whispered. "How did you know?"

His voice rumbled in her ear. "I saw him leaving town, heading in the direction of your hacienda. I had a feeling he was up to no good, going out so early to visit. I decided to follow him and see what he was up to." Helm shuddered and held her closer. "I wanted to kill him," he ground out. "When I saw him attacking you, I wanted to kill him."

Almost unconsciously, he brushed at the sand and twigs clinging to her hair. The gesture became a caress as he pressed her head against his chest and held her protectively.

She leaned away and looked into his eyes. She tried to smile but too many emotions lay too near the surface, clamouring to escape. She felt defiled by Arturo, shamed by the attraction that had led to this. "You tried to warn me about him and I wouldn't listen. If you had not arrived when you did, I don't know..."

Helm touched her lips gently and shook his head. "Nothing happened to be ashamed of. Don't blame yourself for his treachery. You did nothing wrong."

"I'm sorry about yesterday."

"Just another battle wound to add to the others," Helm laughed, then groaned. "I think I may have a bruised rib." A thought seemed to occur to him and he narrowed his eyes as he looked at her. "Do you always carry a dagger in your boot? It's not a fashion item as far as I've ever heard."

"Marta gave it to me a long time ago --- for my protection she said. I never thought I'd need to use it. But today, when he drew his sword while you were defenceless..." She let the words trail off, worried that Helm might wonder about her sudden display of mettle. She spread her hands helplessly and smiled. "I don't know what I thought I was going to do with it."

Helm smiled wryly. "There's a lot more to you than meets the eye. Though what meets the eye is quite lovely," he added with a chuckle.

Tessa blushed, feeling a radiance spreading through her. "I still don't understand why you came here today, especially after what I did yesterday. I would have thought you would never want to see me again." She picked up the reins of her horse and began to lead it down the beach. Helm reached for his own horse and followed her.

Tessa frowned slightly, choosing her words carefully as they walked side by side. "I have heard you have some connection with the Queen of Swords. Is that true?"

Helm looked away, seemingly embarrassed. "It's rather like Don Quixote and Dulcinea. You know the story?"

"Of course. Don Quixote placed Dulcinea on a pedestal, revered her above all women. But she was not real, Doctor. She was a phantom in his mind, an ideal of a woman, a figment of his imagination that he created to give him something to live up to, something to fight for."

"Maybe that's all some men need."

"It would be cold comfort on a romantic moonlit night. Would not a real flesh and blood woman with all her imperfections be more of a comfort? Someone who would hold you close so you could feel her warmth and her love. Lose yourself in her passion. Would you not prefer a real woman to a phantom?" She stopped and met his eyes candidly. She wanted an answer.

He was tempted, by god, he was tempted. But he moved away before he did something he would regret. It was unfair to offer her half a heart. Until he was heart-whole again, he would keep away from her. Perhaps she would find someone to love her as she deserved, unreservedly and passionately. 'That man is not me, not until I either embrace that phantom and take her to myself completely or exorcise her from my brain,' he thought sadly.

Helm took her hand and lifted it to his lips. "It has been an honour being your champion, your knight. If ever you need protection from ogres or dragons again, you have only to call. I am ever at your service." He gave her a courtly bow, then mounted his horse and rode down the beach away from her.

END