QOS CHALLENGE #1

by JoLayne
EnyaJo@aol.com

Rose, Don Quixote, jar of pickles.

~~~~~

Helm walked out of his office and looked up at the vibrant sky. He stretched to loosen the tightness in his shoulders from being hunched over patients all day. He went back into his office, then into his private quarters and grabbed the leather bound book that was on the night stand.

Across the square from his office, he sat at a table in the outdoor cantina. As soon as he sat at a table, a waitress came to take his order. "Just a nice glass of white wine, please," he told her.

He pushed the single rose in a vase at the center of the table back and set the novel, Don Quixote, before him. He opened it to the ear-marked page that he had last read from the book the evening before. Quixote and Sancho Panza were in the midst of an argument about windmills. Helm tried to find the paragraph that he last remembered reading.

The waitress set the wine glass on the table and smiled to him when he looked up. "Is there anything else I could get you, Doctor?"

"Not right now," he easily said, then she left him alone with the book.

A peasant woman carrying a filled basket walked by and noticed the doctor at the table. "Doctor Helm!" Her shout made Helm snap his head up to wonder who was hurt and what he would need to do. He saw the woman lugging the heavy basket rush to his table at the edge of the porch. "Doctor Helm," she said, almost out of breath. "You are such a miracle worker. Thank you again for saving my dear Javier's life. I don't know how we can ever pay you for your kindness."

Helm took her hand when she offered it and smoothly said, "I didn't save his life. I just set his broken leg and I was proud to do it. How is Javier doing?"

"He's running around and playing as if he hadn't broke his leg last summer. Thank you so much!"

Helm saw the tears in her eyes, and remembered the worried look on her face when she and her husband brought their son to his office after the boy had fallen from a moving wagon. "I'm glad he's all right. That's all the thanks I need."

"No, no, Senor," she said, shaking her head. She set the basket on the ground and rummaged through it. "These are things I was bringing to a friend, Rosa. I'm sure she wouldn't mind...," she said as she pulled out a jar. "If I give you this as payment for your work." She thrust the jar of pickles into his hand, "Please, take it."

Helm did enjoy the manner in which people paid their medical bills. He'd receive an invitation for a home-cooked meal. A woman would show up to clean the office because he had bandaged her husband. Montoya would grunt. One day, Helm opened his office door to find a goat tied to the doorknob. Now pickles. He smiled, "Thank you, Senora Flores. I'm sure I will enjoy them."

THE END

I'm so sorry that this gets loopy at the end but I've got a one track mind this week.

Response to Monday Challenge. Spider Web, Apple, Sand Dollar

"All it takes for evil to triumph, is for good men to do nothing."

"Alone, alone, all all alone."

~~~~~

Vera teetered atop a velvet covered foot stool in the center of her drawing room in the mansion that she had married well in order to attain. Marta, stooped over to pin the hem of Vera's new dress, told her to stand still. "It's hard enough to get it straight if you weren't fidgeting."

Vera twisted the core of the golden apple in her hand and it finally broke off. "Six turns," she told Marta. "What do you think that means?"

Marta inserted the last pin and straightened up, careful not to wrench her back. "It means it took you six turns to break off the stem."

"But, you're a seer, Marta," Vera said before taking a large bite of the apple.

"I read tarot, I don't have use for silly superstitions."

"Silly?" Vera stepped down off the foot stool and stated, "I will have you know that I had many beaus who have kissed me just after I had twisted the stem off of an apple."

"Your looks didn't have a thing to do with it, I gather," Marta smiled and waved for her to turn around so she could inspect the evenness of the hem. Vera had acquired the best lavender silk from Japan. Marta had been worried about making the dress for fear of ruining the delicate fabric. The old adage, "Measure twice, cut once," reverberated in her head.

Vera caught her reflection in the mirror and oohed and aahed at how she looked in the dress, even though it wasn't finished. She said, "I have the softest lace I have ever seen in my life downstairs. It would look divine around the collar. I was saving it for a special dress. A special occasion."

Vera hustled off to a door in the hallway and motioned for Marta to join her. Marta dutifully followed and asked, "What is the special occasion? Is the Colonel having another party?"

Vera skipped down the steps with her dress hiked up to prevent it from getting dirty and giggled, "No. This is a private occasion. Gaspar's and my anniversary."

"Oh," Marta said in surprise. She had seen Vera and Captain Grisham in a tender moment many times and was under the impression that Vera's marriage was one of convenience. Gaspar had a gorgeous woman on his arm and she lived well, maintaining her extracurricular activities. "Careful!" Marta warned Vera just in time before the senora had backed up into a spider web in the corner.

Vera ducked forward and spun around. That huge web had almost ruined her dress. "Marta! Thank you! I guess I haven't been down here for a while. I've been saving that lace for three years."

"Maybe you should change into something less ornate and special before scrounging around down here." Marta looked around the cellar which wasn't much different from Tessa's. There were golden objects, old family portraits, trunks, a wine rack. The only light was from a small window that cut through the dusty haze of the room which hadn't been occupied in months. Vera lifted a black cloth and squealed with delight. "Look Marta!"

Marta wished she was so young and in love and had the younger woman's energy. She watched as Vera opened a small wooden box which contained small, inextravagant items. Vera said, "These are the things that I brought to the marriage with me."

She picked up a silver mirror and said, "This was my mother's." Vera fumbled through the contents a little more. She pulled out a sand dollar. "Oh, I remember the day my father found this when I was a little girl. It was such a perfect day. My family and I on the Southern Spanish coastline. The great Mediterranean before us. The ships... oh the ships were..." Vera couldn't think of a word to describe such majesty but her body language emitted grandness. "They were pretty. So large. The big white sails. My father put me on his knee--I couldn't have been more than five years old--and we stared at the ships as they sailed by. He told me that my life would be filled with adventure and happiness and that I would be able to sail on such a ship."

Vera handed the sand dollar to Marta and said, "My father found that on the sand that day and gave it to me so I would remember his prophecy."

Marta was touched by Vera's nostalgic journey and said, "Well, you sailed on a least one ship to get to America."

Vera nodded, then corrected her, "Many ships. My father never had the chance."

"Did he die young?"

"No." Vera took the sand dollar back. "My father died an old man, just after my wedding. He was so happy that I married Gaspar."

"I'd imagine," Marta said, then realized that her response may have sounded judgmental. That was the last thing she wanted to do. "Not that-."

"I know what you meant." Vera shrugged. "But I love Gaspar, no matter what anyone thinks."

"I'm glad," Marta said as she put her hand on Vera's arm. Just then, Marta saw a movement at the window. "What was that?"

Vera looked at the window and got up on her tip-toes to strain to see. "There are people walking past the window. Who can they be?"

Marta and Vera ran up the stairs and outside the house to see a mass of people marching in a large oval. The people were strange to the women. They didn't know what to make of them. They were wearing strange clothes that neither senoras had ever seen before. Vera sucked in her breath and almost fainted, "Most of those people are women!"

Marta just stared at them. "I see that."

"But... they aren't wearing dresses! They are in men's trousers!"

"Strange...." Marta said. The people were walking in a large oval, wearing jeans and t-shirts, white spongy type shoes, buttons that read 'Helmwantshisownshowdammit!'. She asked Vera, "What on earth are they supposed to be?"

Vera read the cardboard signs that some were carrying. "SAVE OUR QUEEN!" was the most predominant saying. Vera said, "Oh, they must be peasants who love the Queen of Swords."

"I suppose," Marta said with trepidation. She was a mother hen to her Tessita and those people looked angry. She hadn't seen Tessa since she had gone to the Hidalgos and was worried that Tessa had gotten into trouble as the Queen. Why did she need saving?

The people all said in unison, "Fireworks, change your mind! Fireworks, keep the show!"

One of the people broke ranks in the oval to run to the steps that Marta and Vera stood upon. "We love this show so much!" The fan gushed on, "You two are so great. We have to know more about you and see more of your adventures. They can't pull the show!"

Vera, scared, moved behind Marta to use her as a shield and asked, "Show? What is she saying?"

The fan continued, "All it takes for evil to triumph, is for good men to do nothing."

Marta nodded, "That's true. That's so very true."

"So we're doing something! We don't want to be alone, alone, all all alone."

END

Write those letters of support!

Marta knocked on the front door of the Hidalgo casa. Vera's new dress was clumsy and extremely heavy. She waited as she did a mental list of everything that she would need to do before she and Tessa arrived for what was bound to be the social event of the season, Gaspar Hidalgo's Fortieth Birthday party. There were rumors that Governor Reyes himself was going to attend. Marta smiled as she wondered how Montoya took the news. The Governor hadn't accepted any of what she guessed were many invitations to his parties. She also wondered if the gesture of taking up the Hidalgos was supposed to be a slap in the face.

After standing on the stoop in the hot sun for a while, Marta realized that no one would be answering the door. Not wanting to put it on the ground, Marta tried the doorknob, to feel it easily open. "Hola?!"

Not seeing or hearing anyone, Marta stepped into the foyer and set the heavy dress wrapped in cloth on the settee, then brushed it flat to make sure it wouldn't wrinkle anymore than it probably had on the ride over to their hacienda.

Marta went from room to room to try to find anyone, feeling a little strange that there wasn't any activity since a party was to begin in nine hours. There were no servants, no Vera, no one that Marta had expected to see. Each step she took across the terra cotta floor amplified. When she called out for anyone, her voice echoed through the rooms. She was going to leave a note for Vera's maid and leave, but heard a noise from a room at the end of the hallway. "Is someone there?"

There was a crash from the room, making Marta jump and move back toward the door. Then there was nothing. Bucking up the courage, she walked closer to the room. "Hello?"

She peeked into the room and saw that it was Don Hidalgo's study. In the center of the room was a large ornate wooden desk. Knickknacks and books lined the shelves that covered the walls. The one window in the room was open, the lace drapery was flowing in from the breeze. The room was a mess. Papers were strewn all over the tiled floor. Some of the possessions on the shelving behind the desk were upset, toppled open, or had fallen to the floor. Marta stepped in to see if anyone was in there, but almost slipped on the broken off top of a large bottle. On the floor by the desk were little sticks of wood, like tooth picks, in various sizes. She walked toward the mess and saw shards of glass around the edge of the desk, then a model ship's mast. The bottle top had at one time been part of a ship in the bottle, but had it fallen to the floor. The ship was on it's side, looking like it was beached.

What she saw next horrified her. "Don Hidalgo!" Marta rushed to the prone man on the floor. He looked dead. A horseshoe with a smudge of blood on it laid by his head. She knelt at his side and carefully turned him over. "Don Hidalgo?"

His right temple had turned purple from bruising. Blood had made a line from the wound to the ground as he had laid. His face was calm, his eyes were closed. She leaned down to check his breathing and was relieved to feel air coming from his nose. She gently patted his cheek. "Don Hidalgo, wake up. What happened?" The Don slowly opened his eyes, then groaned. She asked again, "What happened?"

He mumbled something, but Marta couldn't hear. She leaned closer and heard him say, "My safe. They didn't disturb my safe?"

Marta looked around his office and on the wall that the door was on, in the shelves, was an open--and empty safe. The only way anyone could have left that office was through the window. She stood and looked out of it. Off in the distance was a garrison of Montoya's troops riding away from the hacienda.

"Montoya's men?"

Don Hidalgo tried to sit up, but was still dazed. Marta rushed back to his side to support him. "Just lie back for a little while longer."

He wouldn't listen to her. He yelled, "Montoya! He stole it! Damn that man!"

~~~~~

I admit, the trio items were tough this week.

~Jo

Cigar, misplaced accent, Wheel of Fortune tarot card

~~~~~

Marcus Grisham walked into Montoya's office with his usual swagger which made Montoya keep an extra eye on him. Something made him feel good today. We can't have that, Montoya thought. He had to rely on Grisham, but he hated it so after his minion almost let him die of the fever.

"Capitan," Montoya smiled at his guest then cast his eyes on his underling. "You have interrupted my meeting with Senor Costas here."

Grisham bowed and made his apologies to the lightest skinned Spaniard Montoya had ever seen, but the purpose of the meeting was too good to pass up. Grisham told Montoya, "I was told you wanted to see me." Then he added, "Sir."

"Yes, Grisham. But I didn't mean right away. Since when are you so fast?"

"Since you have someone in your office who people have told me, knows who the Queen of Swords is."

Costas nodded, puffed on the cigar that Montoya had lit for him just after they had sat down. "I was going to take this meeting alone, but since you're here..." Montoya waved his hand toward Grisham for him to stand guard and just listen. Both military men looked to the visitor for his proof, a reason why Montoya should believe him, and how much it would cost to obtain the information.

Costas just puffed on the cigar, rolling it in his fingers and blowing smoke rings. "Senor," Montoya said, fidgeting in his chair. "Any time you care to speak would be excellent. I know you have a problem with the English as you so mangled the language when you arrived. Would you prefer to speak in our native tongue, Spanish?"

Montoya thought the man was no better than a peasant, who might just be dressed in an ill-fitting suit to 'impress' him. The callouses on his hands were a dead giveaway that the man wasn't affluent. But, the prospect of finding out the true identity of the bane of his existence was enough for him to get into his office. Smoke one of his fine cigars. Montoya's patience was drawing to a close. He ordered Costas, "Hablar, ahora."

"Mas por favor," Costas said, nudging his empty scotch glass toward Montoya.

Montoya slowly shook his head, no. He wouldn't have anything more until he showed his proof that he knew who the Queen was. Finally, Costas drew a deck of cards out of his pocket. The Colonel wondered if he was supposed to draw with the quiet man. Costas laid the deck on the desk, face up. The top card was Wheel of Fortune. It was a tarot deck.

"What is that to prove?"

"A pasado uno."

Montoya leaned over his desk to pick up the deck and sift through the cards to find the one that he assumed would be missing. Sure enough, there wasn't the tarot card, Queen of Swords, among them. "What does that prove?"

Costas explained in Spanish that he had been a guest in a home and found the deck in the trash basin. "Isn't it amazing that the one card that is left as a souvenir for you, Colonel, is not in the deck."

"In who's casa were you a guest?"

"That is what will cost you reales."

Montoya smiled, enjoying the courage the fake Spaniard had to actually try to put one over on him. "Adiós, senor Costas." To the surprise of Grisham--and to Costas--Montoya stood and drew a pistol from under his desk and shot Costas square in the chest.

Grisham jumped back against the wall. "What in God's name are you doing?!"

Montoya blew the smoke that came out of the barrel of the gun and set it on his desk. "Get some men in here and take him away. Now."

"Why did you do that?"

"He pronounced the word, re'cuerdo, not as the word should be accented. I have no time for such nonsense. If he took the pains to lie about his heritage, why wouldn't he make up a story for extortion. Take him away!"

END

#9 Challenge Quote:

She walks in beauty like the night,
of cloudless climes and starry skies
And all that's best of dark and bright
meets in her aspect and her eyes
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
which heaven to gaudy day denies.

~~~~~

Gaspar returned home well after dark from a meeting with the other Dons. The meeting wasn't one to determine how best to deal with Montoya, or how to make their workers work harder, or how to consolidate their wealth and make it grow, or which properties in the county were ripe for the picking, or to get news from their homeland. No, the meeting was a poker game. Gaspar halted the horses and then stepped down from the carriage with the help of a stable worker. "Will you be needed the carriage further?"

"No," Gaspar said as he walked toward the house. "Have a pleasant evening." He enjoyed the extra weight to the bag of reales that he had taken to the poker game. He jiggled it in his hand to hear the coins clank. He had been pleased that Doctor Helm had been called away on a medical emergency as he was an excellent poker player. You couldn't tell what was going on behind those eyes if you had Helm's head in a vise and a concentrated light flashing in his face. Gaspar hadn't won a pot since Don Sanchos started inviting the doctor to their gatherings, thinking it would be easy to get whatever coins the Brit had. So far, Gaspar had lost 1200 reales and a prized horse from his stables to the doctor.

Lamps were lit throughout the house, but Gaspar couldn't find his wife. The maid, Angela, was just entering the side door with the empty dish tub as he entered the kitchen. "Will you be needing anything this evening, senor? A snack?"

"No thank you." Gaspar said. "In fact, here." He reached into the bag and pulled out two coins to give her. She held them in her hand with a confused look. "I was quite lucky this evening. Buy something nice for your children."

"Muchos gracias, Senor!"

"Good night." Gaspar asked her as she was opening the door to return to her family, "Where is Vera?"

"She is in the garden, senor. It is such a beautiful night."

"Yes, it is." Gaspar walked with Angela out of the house. They walked through the yard, then Angela curtsied then walked to the line of houses where his workers resided. Gaspar walked to the flower garden. He heard soft singing as he neared it. He lessened his steps and tip toed down the cobblestones between tall trees that sheltered the garden. When he turned the corner to see Vera among the flowers in full bloom, he quietly sat on the stone bench and just watched her.

Byron's poem fluttered into his head as he watched his wife slowly sway as she stepped down the path amidst her flowers. She walks in beauty like the night, Gaspar said to himself. As the words of the poem went through his head, he listened to her soft singing of a lullaby. Children. That was the only thing that they did not have that would make their lives perfect.

Gaspar remembered the first time he had sat on a bench and just watched Vera. It was in a square in Barcelona when she was just a child herself. Her long blond hair was wild, not wanting to stay trapped in the barrette that he was sure that her mother had clipped. She was playing a game with boys who were at least a foot taller than herself. Her dress hiked up to her knees as she kicked the ball, expertly keeping it away from the lad who was 'it'. She was agile, had powerful kicks and was laughing all the while. She was so full of life, so knowing of the effect she had on the boys. Gaspar, a student ready to graduate from the university, had determined that he was at ten years older than she, but had begun taking that same bench to eat his lunch every noon time. He knew that Vera and her friends would be playing.

He had been watching them for months before a stray ball flew in his direction. He dropped the apple to deftly catch it. He was going to throw it back into the fray, but saw Vera run in his direction to collect it. Gaspar set it on his lap and smiled as she at first ran, then walked to him. When she stood before him, she curtsied. "Apologies, senor," were her first words to him. She had spoken in a grown up, respectful manner. Soon her precocity shown through. Her face lit up in a smile and she gushed, "But you caught that ball! I thought it would hit you in the head!"

To finally be face to face with the untamed spirit, Gaspar was speechless. He had wondered if he would ever meet her, and how it would happen. He could have just walked up to her and introduced himself, but that didn't seem right. He knew she wasn't from a prominent family as he was, he was older, he didn't want to scare her. He wondered if she knew that he thought of her all the time.

"Senor?" Vera was motioning to the ball that laid on his lap. "May I have the ball?"

"Yes, senorita," Gaspar replied, but did not move. He only looked at her smile, her wrinkled and soiled dress, her willowy arms. He then saw that the boys and girls were standing with their hands on their hips waiting for the game to resume. Since she wasn't going to take the ball on her own, he picked it up and held it out to her. "My name is Gaspar Hidalgo. What is your name?"

"Vera," she said as she let the ball fall into her waiting hands. "It is nice to meet you, senor. I have watched you watch us for quite a while now."

"I have my lunch here every day."

"I know." She bowed her head and turned. Over her shoulder she smiled and said, "Why do you think I have been insisting that we play here, at the same time, every day?"

~Jo

Look hard, the items, bullet, handkerchief and cactus are in there. Kinda. Sort of like where's Waldo?

~~~~~

Before Tessa awoke that morning, Marta was already fast at work getting the surprise ready. The invitations to Tessa's birthday party had been sent out with Vera's name prominently displayed to all the Dons in the colony, with the strict instructions that it should be kept a secret from Senorita Alvarado. Marta had been furiously hoarding food for the guests, making decorations with the help of the household staff, and trying to think of the perfect gift for her Tessita for the last month.

Usually parties were a common occurrence in the Alvarado household but after the death of the Don and Dona, Tessa hadn't had the heart or stamina to throw not even one. Marta wanted to mark the occasion of Tessa's 24th birthday with a lavish party that even the hard to please Dona would have been proud of.

Lately, since arriving in Santa Helena, there hadn't been a lot to celebrate, starting with the mysterious death of the Don. It killed Tessa inside that she hadn't been able to prove that Montoya had ordered her father's death. Marta had taken on the task of getting that ball rolling by asking questions of people one wouldn't normally even associate with, let alone converse with: the town drunk who was always sleeping behind Dr. Helm's office, the madam at the brothel, the scum and villainy that congregated in Beggar's Canyon. Marta only spent a grand total of 10 minutes there before hot tailing it back to the safety of the hacienda after it looked like she would lose more than any reales she had if she had stayed any longer.

Luis Montoya had been acting very strange the last couple of weeks. He was always able to produce a smile and small talk with Tessa and Marta when they would visit the pueblo, but on the trips that Marta had taken alone as she had secretly ordered cloth, food and supplies for the party, he was being overly cordial. Marta at first wondered if he was buttering her up because he knew that she gave Tessa advice. If Marta could be won over, Tessa could be soon to follow. I wonder if he has his suspicions that we believe he killed Don Alvarado?

Every time Marta had been in Santa Helena, Montoya would seek Marta out to bid her a good day, even if he was in the midst of punishing a peasant. He had been commenting on her clothing, telling her that she was an excellent seamstress when Marta would tell him that she had of course made the outfit herself.

There has to be something up his sleeve! Marta couldn't help but think, Imagine, a colonel so blatantly talking to a servant... I just can not think of what could possibly be his motive to be nice to me. In an instant, she wondered if he was attracted to her, but immediately dismissed it. If one knew Montoya at all, you would know that if he were to marry or even get involved in a woman, that woman had better come with class and money.

Having a little more time before Tessa would awake, Marta took out the birthday banner to stitch the gold brocade around the edges. The red silk was to have been used for a new dress, but Marta really wanted to make the decorations as special as possible for the party. The workers from the Alvarados and Hidalgos had been working overtime, and covertly, to make the party a success. Marta sat on the settee and took out her sewing kit.

Alternating between stitching the banner and thinking about Montoya made the time pass quickly. Marta's mind was more on the Colonel than what she was going with her hands. He had looked handsome in his uniforms, his hair was impeccable when tied into a ponytail, his goatee was well groomed and the graceful bow of his head as he peered up at her made Marta come to believe that he couldn't be a complete monster. He certainly had his good points.

Night had quickly turned into daylight as Marta heard Tessa move about in her bedroom. She couldn't possibly see the banner, it would surely ruin the surprise.

"Dios mio," Marta intoned as she brought herself out of her reverie. She quickly folded the banner and the rest of the brocade and replaced it in the chest just before Tessa emerged from her bedroom wearing a robe.

Keeping herself in front of the chest so Tessa couldn't even see that, she asked, "What would you like for breakfast?"

"Eggs would be lovely," Tessa said with a bit of sunshine in her voice and attitude.

"Raphael will be bringing them in momentarily," Marta replied, following Tessa into the kitchen.

"Care to give me my present now?" Tessa beamed as she sat at the table and peeked up at Marta.

"How about a little patience?"

"I am an adult. I am my own woman. I want my present," Tessa said, then prodded Marta. "Come on. Did you sew me a new dress? Order a new pair of boots? I really can not remember how I slashed the Queen's boots and should really get a new pair. It would be just like you to get me something sensible for me birthday, so is that is? Is that what you got me?"

"Even adults must wait, Tessita," Marta said with a knowing grin. "All in due time. You will never in a million years guess what I have to give you on your birthday."

~~~~~

From the moment Marta had left his office the afternoon before, Helm had been fit to be tied, yet bursting with excitement, and was ready to ride out to the Alvarado hacienda to have his way with her. He had been in the dark for too long; Marta's visit had been too short. He couldn't believe how that meeting happened in the first place, how short it lasted, and how he had actually promised Marta that he wouldn't do anything until the next day.

Concentrating on tying his tie was a difficult prospect as he was too excited about the evening ahead of him. Marta's words flowed through his head non-stop. He stepped back to look himself over in the small mirror and decided that he looked presentable, if not down right handsome. "Tonight is the night!"

~~~~~

As Montoya climbed into his carriage to go to the Alvarados, he didn't need to remind himself to take special care to inventory everything he could see. The extent of the fields, the number of workers, the furnishings in the casa. One day, they would all be his. Marta is indeed the perfect one to have on my side. No longer does she scowl whenever I approach her, even though she probably had no idea that it was what she had been doing. In fact, yesterday, it seemed as if she was happy that I made my way over to her and made a little small talk. For the first time, she smiled as I took my leave and she did not know that I was still examining her reaction. She had to have told Maria Teresa that I am a good man, and since this is the Senorita's 24th birthday, it was certainly time that she should marry before people started to talk.

Colonel Montoya made sure that Tessa's present, a sapphire necklace, was carefully laid on the seat beside him in such a way that if they hit some potholes, it wouldn't be mussed by falling to the floor. In his breast pocket, on the other hand, was the diamond ring that he had commissioned to put on her finger just as he was proposing marriage to Tessa at the party.

"To the Alvarado's," Montoya commanded his driver. The carriage moved forward as he sat back comfortably on the seat. He hoped that Marta had indeed told Tessa about him to smooth the way. That the proposal would happen in public, she would not automatically say no. In fact, she might even be persuaded to say yes.

~~~~~

Unless Vera hadn't been able to keep Tessa talking at her place, Tessa wouldn't be arriving back home for another hour. Vera was to make her lunch, have them try on dresses that Vera had purchased from Madrid and had just arrived, and just keep her busy. Ever since Marta had shooed Tessa out of the house after breakfast, the entire hacienda had been alive with activity.

Several of the field workers were moving the furniture and setting up banquet tables, hanging decorations and cooking a feast. Vera had sent out invitations to all the Dons in the colony, also Montoya because it was expected, and also Dr. Helm. When Marta thought of the doctor again, she couldn't help but smile and be warmed. She had finally confided her secret to him. He was shocked, but soon came around. By the time she left his office, he was actually beaming.

~~~~~

Because Marta had given Vera a new dress for Tessa to wear that evening, and was one that they would try on, she was chagrined when Tessa had donned the baby blue gown that Vera was going to wear. There was so much to do, so much responsibility, it was so hard to lie to Tessa. Vera needed to get her out of that dress, into the correct one, then get Gaspar and Tessa into the carriage to go to the Alvarados, but not before any of the other guests so it would all be a wonderful surprise. Tessa was really loving the blue gown and looked herself over in the mirror. When Tessa got to the point of asking Vera how much it was so she could buy it from her, Vera was ready to just tell her that Tessa was to wear the white and that the dress she wore was hers. Tessa asked how she looked.

"Ugly," Vera said. "Blue is not a good color for you. Here, try this one on." She held up the white dress.

Looking off to her left, she saw Gaspar poke his head around the door. Vera motioned for him to go away, knew they were running late. It was also a good thing that Tessa hadn't noticed him or he her, as she had just let the blue dress slip down to the floor. Vera held out the white dress and helped Tessa get into it.

Lifting the dress up over Tessa's shoulders, Vera realized that she had spent a wonderful afternoon with her only real friend she had. Tessa looked hurt by her abrupt criticism of the dress and was sorry she had said it, but they both had to dress and get a move on. They couldn't be fashionably late at the party by two hours.

~~~~~

Everything was ready at the Alvarados and most of the guests had arrived. Marta had tried to steer clear of Montoya since he had made his appearance, but she couldn't be rude. She offered him a glass of wine and he hovered around her until she got it for him.

Thinking that the Colonel did indeed have intentions toward her, Marta grew more and more uncomfortable. She finally looked at him to see him scanning the house. She told herself that she was just being silly when Montoya asked, "Where is the senorita?"

Helm walked into the Alvarado hacienda at that moment and was making small talk with the couple by the door, but his focus was on Marta across the room. Marta hurriedly told Montoya, "She will be here in due time, Colonel." She handed him his glass and grabbed another and walked toward Helm.

As soon as she handed him his glass and motioned for him to follow her, politely smiling at the couple she had interrupted, they walked to a quiet corner of the drawing room. Marta warned, "Stop. Do not say one word until the time is right."

"Not a word comes from my mouth," Helm promised. "I just want to make sure. That wasn't a dream, was it?"

"Dios mio," Marta sighed and shook her head. "I told you about 100 times in your office that it was true. Do I have to say it again here in front of everyone? I would prefer that you do it in private."

~~~~~

Keeping her emotions in check was a difficult thing to do as the Hidalgo carriage made it's way into the Alvarado yard that was filled with carriages. Music and laughter emanated from the house. Tessa knew there was a party in full swing and it had to be for her birthday. She looked at Vera next to her in the carriage with a surprised gape.

Even Gaspar couldn't control his delight at the surprise any longer and said, "Heppy birthday, Tessa. I hope we were able to give you the party of a lifetime."

Raphael, Tessa's stableman, held out his hand and made a slight bow of his head as he helped Tessa from the carriage. When she stepped out and looked at the windows, Tessa caught a glimpse of the red banner that wished her a happy birthday. Vera started to smooth down Tessa's gown, as well as her own. "A surprise birthday party?"

"Certainly," Vera said, then placed her hand upon Gaspar's arm and walked toward the door. Then she realized that Tessa stood rooted in her spot. "Come on, Tessa. You should walk in before we do."

"How long has she been planning this?"

Instead of answering, Vera smiled and pulled her toward the door. Tessa radiated joy and wonder at how a fiesta could have been organized under her nose. "Marta! The party is my gift. This dress is mine, isn't it? It is not yours." When Vera nodded, Tessa continued, "All in due time she told me this morning. Marta never ceases to amaze me."

Everyone turned toward the door when it was announced that the Hidalgos along with the guest of honor had arrived. "Surprise! Happy Birthday!" People crowded Tessa as she walked in the door. It was wonderful to see some of them, some she hadn't seen since she was a child, or who had once been children that she played with but were now men and women. The first one Tessa went to was Marta and gave her a big hug and whispered, "Thank you. I never expected this."

From the doorway of the living room, Helm hung back from the rest, the greeting of the birthday girl, all the commotion. Marta nodded to him and he disappeared toward the kitchen. Tessa thanked them all for coming individually as Marta slowly led her toward the kitchen.

"Come with me," Marta told her once all the greetings had been completed. "Your birthday gift from me is still waiting for you."

As Tessa was lead to the kitchen, she asked, "What more could you have possibly given me? This is going to be a wonderful party."

Chefs were still at work in the kitchen and Tessa dipped her hand into a bowl of pudding and about melted at the taste of it. "It is magnifico," she told him, and he nodded his thanks.

"This cannot wait," Marta said, pushing her toward the door. "I feel that your present is going to explode soon if you do not go out to the veranda."

Unexpectantly, Tessa was out the door and it shut behind her. She turned and tried to open the door again, confused, thinking she was alone, but it was locked. Then she realized that she wasn't alone. Even though it was dark--only the lights from the house lit the veranda--she could feel a presence there with her. She turned to see Robert Helm. Tessa smiled, then asked, "What is going on?"

Slowly, Helm walked toward her. "I know," he said as he stopped when he was inches from her. "Marta told me yesterday, something that I should have known all along." He raised his hand so she could see what it contained, the Queen's lace mask.

Before Tessa could even react, Helm raised his other hand and tenderly touched her cheek. "I am sorry, Tessa. I should have seen the truth. I should not have said all those things I have said to you, about her." He indicated the mask and lightly laughed. "Comparing you to her. You are her, the most interesting, marvelous, courageous woman I have ever met. I am sorry I never gave you a chance, to be herself, your true self, a queen." He wrapped his arms around Tessa's waist and pulled her closer to him. Nuzzling her head in the crook of his neck, Tessa wondered if she was going to faint. She held onto him for support. When she finally got her breathing under control and the lightheadedness passed, she looked up at him. Then she slowly, properly, did what she had only once had done in a rush. Tessa was finally able to kiss Robert Helm as herself.

END

*Didn't find the trio? Look at the first letter of each paragraph. :-)

TRIO: Fog, spectacles, a message

~~~~~

Tessa awoke with a start and jerked up on her bed. Her mind was in a fog, not knowing where she was, then realized that it was before sun-up. She could barely make out the faint shapes in her bedroom. The dream she had about her father was so intense, it was like he was talking to her, only she couldn't make out what he said. They were in their living room in Madrid; she and her father were dressed in their best clothes. The Don was delicately sipping port from a glass then he tapped her hand when she tried to get a glass of her own. It was only then that Tessa realized that she was younger in her dream than in real life. In her dream, she was having a conversation with the Don, but she had no idea what had been said, or what she had even thought while talking. The dream should have been heart warming, a lovely memory for once. Whenever she had dreamt of her father since his death, it was always as a warning of what was to come or would be him urging her reveal his killer to the world. This dream was like a lullaby. There hadn't been any danger, no ominous warnings, his voice wasn't harsh from disappointment or persuasion. His voice wasn't heard by her at all.

Just like when Tessa has slowly lost touch with the memory of her mother, who died so many years before, when she couldn't remember her mother's voice, or the feel of her warm hugs, her laugh, it saddened Tessa to understand that it may be happening with her father and that was what the dream was about. She could clearly see him, but he was starting to fade away. How she wished she could see him again, just for an instant, in the flesh. How she wished that she could rise from her bed and through the house, and into her father's study to see the Don. If she were to see him, she was sure that he would be wearing his spectacles as he would be either reading a favorite novel, such as Don Quixote, on his leather chair in the corner or writing letters to friends, relatives, fellow Dons, or the Spanish court at his desk.

Tessa couldn't stay still any longer. She got up out of bed and put on her robe, then walked through the house to the room that she had hardly used since returning to Alto California. The door opened with a squeak as she walked into her father's study. At that moment, she knew that it would never truly be hers, there was too much of her father in there. His collection of knives that she hadn't touched since she accidently cut herself when she was seven was still on the far wall. The head of a tiger that he had killed while on safari in Africa was on the opposite wall. The collection of paperweights that Tessa had given him each year on his birthday lined the edge of the desk. She didn't know if he had ever needed a paperweight, or even wanted one, but when he had been so happy to receive the first one, she had been sure that he wanted the second, and the third. Tessa smiled when remembering her father's face as he would once again unwrap another paperweight on his birthday. He had kept them all. His desk in Madrid looked just as this one in California did, lined with paperweights.

Tessa stood at the desk, her hand lightly touching the two elegent quill pens in the center of the line of paperweights. The desk wasn't dusty; Marta must have been keeping it clean. As if he would return again, or in case Tessa would use it one day? All of the important papers were taken from that room after Tessa and Marta had arrived and were kept in a wooden box in the parlor so Tessa wouldn't have to enter her father's sanctuary. It had always been too difficult in the past, to be in that room without her father.

Thinking back on the dream, she wondered what it meant. That it was a last gasp of her father's memory in her head was too sad. There had to be more of a reason. Tessa bucked up the courage to sit in her father's chair. The cushion groaned when she did, the leather crunched. She moved her back against the seat and then rolled herself forward to the desk. Putting her hands on the leather blotter, she tried to get more of a feeling of her father than just smelling the leather that seemed to permeate him while he was alive. The leather smell was comforting, but it was musty as well.

Tessa felt herself get hot, flustered, like she was going to cry, as she silently plead for her father to give her a sign, tell her what he needed to tell her, what the dream meant, what she wanted to hear. She wanted to hear that he was proud of her, that she was moving in the right direction, that everything would all turn out right in the end.

Suddenly, the door opened wider and Marta made her appearance. "Tessita? What are you doing up so early and moving around in here?"

Tessa brushed a tear from her cheek and looked up at the woman who had taken her mother's place in her heart. She said, "I am waiting for a message."

END