Robert Helm was leaving Santa Elena.
His year in Alta California had been interesting at least, if not the most enjoyable. He'd nearly been incinerated in a purposefully rigged explosion, hunted down by an assassin, almost beheaded, tossed off a ship and nearly drowned, held at gun, knife and sword point, participated in more fistfights than in the whole of his childhood, and been sentenced to house arrest more times than he could remember. And yesterday...yesterday he really thought he was going to die.
Grisham had marched him into the desert with direct orders from Montoya to murder him.
What in bloody hell was he still doing here?!
He used to think he knew why he stayed despite the real threats to his survival. But yesterday had also taken care of that. The woman in black that terrorized Montoya's soldiers and gave the peasants someone to root for was well aware of his feelings for her. He knew she was not stupid. But apparently she *was* frightened, or the less appealing option, simply not interested.
He'd told her several times how amazing and incredible he thought she was. He couldn't really remember any answering compliments. Following yesterday's discussion about Vera Hidalgo's extramarital activities, he casually suggested that maybe some loves should stay secret. He'd hoped to shock her into denying such a silly thing. Her response, or rather lack thereof, had only rubbed salt in his proverbial wounds.
But then what could he expect? Did he think she would suddenly declare her love for him and then retire from the vigilante business to become a dutiful wife? He laughed out loud at that. He didn't even know her true identity. How on earth did he think they could have a semblance of a normal relationship?
No, better to just pack it in and hit the road. Since leaving the army he'd done his share of traveling. He'd been on a trek in Texas when Montoya had recruited him to heal this little pueblo. Sometimes he regretted ever stopping at that hole in the wall cantina outside of La Rosa. Who knows where he'd be now if he hadn't? He could still remember the moment El Colonel walked through the bar's swinging doors. Even there the peasants seemed to sense his self-appointed authority. A pin dropping to the floor could have been heard.
And yet, he'd agreed to come. 'Well, Robbie, all of our decisions can't be winners.'
Looking around the office he'd used for the past twelve months, he though he should be feeling more solemn about his departure. Certainly he would miss his patients. The poor, dirty peasants that came to him for help they would find nowhere else. The skinned knees and black eyes of the children who played just a tad too rough. The exhaustion of the wives who worked too hard for their own good.
Professionally, he had seen very few dons and donas in his time in Santa Elena. Either their servants were skilled enough to deal with the occasional cut or burn, or, as he figured more likely, their lives of comfort and excess were not as conducive to illness. The exceptions to that had been a smattering of visits from Senora Vera Hidalgo, which he'd later deduced had only served as reconnaissance missions for Montoya. And of course Senorita Alvarado had made his office her second home. One didn't need to knock on the door of her own home, did she?
He had to admit, the thought of Maria Theresa breezing her way into his office and tapping him on the head with her fan brought a grin to his face. He just didn't understand that one. She played the part of the spoiled aristocrat almost too well. She seemed to genuinely care about the people of Santa Elena but she sighed and simpered along with the best of them. Perhaps given enough time, he would eventually find out who she really was. But that didn't look like it was in the cards.
Robert pulled on his jacket and ran a negligent hand through his hair. Of course he was dreading the talk with Montoya. He wasn't certain how the Colonel would take the news that he was losing his physician. Then again, he might rejoice. Just one less person for him to worry about. After all, he'd wanted to get rid of him badly enough to put a bullet in his head. This way was much easier, not to mention a lot less messy.
And it wasn't as if he was just taking off for parts unknown. Robert always had a plan. A few weeks ago he had spent three days in Monterrey for a medical convention. Four other well-known doctors had joined together in the El Camino Real Hotel on Main street to pour over the latest medical journals and discuss daring new procedures. He’d come to realize that medicine as a profession had come a long way, and there was no limit to what it would be able to accomplish in the future. Helm came away from the convention proud that he was a part of this revolution.
He had also come away with an open invitation to join the thriving practice of Dr. William Webster Butterworth, a Boston physician who had just set up office in Monterrey. Perhaps there he would find his purpose. He could use his talents to help people who might not try to kill him in return. Life there might not be as exciting as in Santa Elena, but at least it would be normal. And right now, Robert Helm longed for normal.
Once he had everything packed up, Robert Helm left for Colonel Montoya's office. The sooner he confronted him the sooner he could be on his way. The friendly waves he received from the townsfolk on his way to the pale pink structure brought a tightness to his throat. Would they be so polite it they knew he was hours away from clearing out of town? Shaking off the doubts he continued to Montoya's. He would need all his concentration for this encounter.
After the soldier had announced him at the door, Robert walked into the elegantly decorated office and found the Colonel seated at his desk, hands folded in front of him. If he was surprised to see him alive and well it did not reflect in his eyes.
"Doctor Helm, I trust your little stay in our jail has done some good," he greeted him pleasantly.
"Actually I'm doing quite well. No extra holes in my head and all that," Robert replied with a smirk. He felt no fear in Montoya's presence. He knew the colonel himself would never raise a hand to him. He always stayed behind the scenes of his machinations. "No thanks to you."
Montoya sighed and spread his hands out in supplication. "My dear doctor, I truly regret the incident with Capitan Grisham. You know how seriously he takes his role as my second in command. He simply got a little carried away."
"Carried away? He was going to shoot me in the head!" Robert replied, not buying the Colonel's explanation for a moment. Not that he ever expected Montoya to come forward with the truth. "And he was acting on your orders. We both know that."
"Dr. Helm I'm shocked that you would think me capable of murder," Montoya said indignantly as he rose from his chair behind the desk. "Especially against someone as yourself. An integral member of our community."
"Only integral when it suits you," Robert said, a grim smile lighting on his face. "Like when you have fever and are scared of dying."
The barb hit its mark and Montoya's face went deadly still for a moment. Schooling his features once more, he said softly, "I think we can agree that we have had our differences, doctor, and simply leave it at that."
Robert shook his head. The man had talent, he had to give him that. His ability to circumvent the truth, to call forth such wounded pride. He used every situation to further his own goals. This conversation could go on forever if he let it. He'd better just get to the point of his visit.
"I've come to tell you I'm leaving," he announced.
"I think a vacation is just what the doctor ordered," Montoya replied, sitting back down and sifting through some papers on his desk. "Pardon the expression." Was that relief he heard in the colonel's voice? Did he actually think he was going to get out of this situation so easily? That he would simply go on as if nothing had happened?
"Not a vacation," Robert clarified folding his arms over his chest.
"Oh?" Montoya looked up, confused for the briefest of moments. Then realization seemed to hit. Folding his hands again he replied casually, "I see."
Robert waited for the Colonel's reaction. Would he be angry, vehemently insisting that he was bound to him somehow as his personal physician? Or would he, as he himself had done, use his responsibility to the townspeople to prick his guilty conscience? He certainly wasn't expecting what the colonel said next.
"Dr. Helm, do I need to remind you of your situation when I found you in Texas?" he asked calmly, spearing him with a look that demanded his undivided attention.
How could he even bring that up? At first it surprised him, but then he realized that it really shouldn't have. He was simply once again using everything in his arsenal to achieve his own purpose. Stunned hazel eyes stared back at Montoya for a few seconds before Robert replied carefully, "What happened in La Rosa was not my fault. I had the situation completely under control!"
"Doctor, you were about to be hanged," Montoya informed him almost gleefully. It was clear the colonel enjoyed seeing his distress.
"Vigilante justice," Robert said with a dismissive wave.
"Ah, yes, something we know about all too well here in our little pueblo," Montoya remarked.
"Those men were angry with grief. They wouldn't have gone through with it," he insisted as he paced in front of the desk.
"Then you had more faith in them that I, doctor!"
"So that's what this is about then?" he asked, gripping the back of a chair. "You think you rescued me from some horrible demise so I owe you the rest of my life?"
"The arrangement was for one year--"
"And I've fulfilled that," Robert said emphatically. "And as I recall, death threats and house arrest were never part of the deal."
"Yes, fulfilled it you have," Montoya agreed begrudgingly. "Just remember that if you do go, there is no coming back."
Robert laughed.
"What, you're going to post soldiers outside of town to keep me out? Nothing personal but your soldiers aren't exactly the most adept at their vocation."
"It is not I you are abandoning here Dr. Helm," Montoya told him. "Do you think the people of this town will welcome you back with open arms after this? They depend on you to sustain their bodies just as the Padre sustains their souls. What am I to tell them?" Leaning over the desk between them and placing his hands on either side, he replied, "Well Colonel, I suppose you could just pretend that Grisham succeeded, and tell them what you had planned for that unfortunate circumstance."
This time it was the Colonel's mouth that hung agape. It was a look that pleased Robert greatly.
"Adios, Colonel," he mock saluted as he left the office.
Robert Helm descended the steps of the Colonel's residence with a healthy dose of satisfaction. To be sure, Montoya had done his level best to coerce him into remaining in Santa Elena, but he definitely felt he had come out on top of the situation...for once.
And why on earth did he insist on bringing up that little misunderstanding in LaRosa? He'd done all he could to save that man's life; surely his brothers understood that. Then again, maybe they hadn't...
As he crossed the main street he became aware of the sound of footsteps running behind him. He turned around and was nearly barreled over by a little girl of about 5 or 6 years old. It was almost a reflex for him to scoop her up into his arms and situate her against his hip.
"Dr. Helm!" the child beamed as she threw her chubby arms around his neck. "Mira! Look! My arm is all better!"
"It certainly is," Helm replied as he made a show of examining her elbow. "Didn't I tell you it would be?"
He had stitched it up several weeks ago after the girl had fallen from the tree in which she and her brother had been playing. In her fear she had cried as if the devil himself were after her, but he had given her some of the sugary hard candy he kept on hand for just such situations and the tide of tears had ebbed.
Now she nodded bravely and smiled beneath her dark lashes as the doctor continued to walk towards his office, carrying his precious burden.
"My birthday is tomorrow!" she told him proudly. "Papa said I can eat all the candies from the piñata!"
Helm chuckled. "If you do that you'll have to come see me again, this time for a tummy ache."
When the girl made a humorous face at that suggestion, Helm realized with a start that he wouldn't be here tomorrow. For the party or the tummy ache. He studied the girl's expression as she watched him, small round face glowing with rapt attention. She would soon lose that all-encompassing trust. He would most likely be the first of many men to desert her.
"I'll bring you some candies, doctor," she promised, innocently patting his cheek with her tiny hand.
"Thanks," he mumbled averting his eyes from the sight of her misplaced adoration.
"Sela!"
Both doctor and child turned at the sound of her name being called.
"Mija! Why are you bothering the doctor?" the dark-haired woman fretted as she crossed over to them, hands holding her skirts. "I'm so sorry, Senor Helm. I was buying vegetables for dinner. I turn my back for a moment and she is gone!"
"It's no problem, Senora Juarez," he assured her as Sela reluctantly allowed him to hand her over to her mother. "She was just telling me about her arm."
"And the party!" Sela reminded him in a stage whisper.
"And the party," Helm amended with a small chivalric bow.
"You stop by tomorrow, yes? I'm making empanadas for the party," the woman smiled as her daughter nodded enthusiastically.
"Oh, I don't know Senora," he explained hesitantly. "I may be very busy tomorrow--"
"Please, please, pleeeease?" Sela begged, squirming in her mother's grasp.
'Good lord, I can't say no,' Helm realized. 'Even if it is a lie.'
Finally he inclined his head. "I will see what I can do."
Sela's face lit up as her mother turned to take them back to their wagon.
He watched Sela wave at him happily as they were swallowed up by all the townsfolk in the square. Why did a decision that came so easily in the heat of anger become so much more complicated in the face of joy? Trying to push the thought of the girl from his mind he headed in the direction of his office.
No sooner had he resumed his stride than his path was blocked. A young senorita with dark hair and even darker eyes stood before him, a shy smile on her face as she looked up at him.
"Rosa, how are you feeling? Have the headaches eased any?" he asked as he took her lightly by the arm and led them out of the way of some children running around the busy square.
"Yes, Dr. Helm, I am feeling much better," she beamed. Then she brought out a glass medicine bottle from under her black shawl. Holding it out to him she said, "I take your medicine and my headaches get better. I bring this back to you."
The sight of it brought back the memory of the whole fiasco with Grisham and the laudanum. After he'd returned from the desert he'd sought her out and after carefully explaining that the other medicine had been watered down, he presented her with a new bottle.
Helm now took the half-filled bottle from her hand and said, "I'm glad you're feeling better, Rosa."
"I have you to thank," she insisted. "I had the headaches a long time before you arrived here. Nothing else helped, until you came."
He opened his mouth to argue with her but she went on, "We are all lucky to have you here."
The look of genuine gratitude on Rosa's face nearly undid him. His already guilty conscience was now cursing his rash behavior and the decision that stemmed from it. If only things in Santa Elena weren't so...abnormal! He could have a nice little practice here. He could care for his patients and feel as though her were doing something worthwhile with his time and talents. But what kind of doctor could he be if he was always looking over his shoulder for the next pistol or sword aimed at him?
"I appreciate that Rosa," he said, willing a pleasant smile to his face while gripping the medicine bottle so tightly in his hand that he feared it would break and he'd have to stitch himself up. "Now, if you would excuse me, I have some business to attend to?"
He really hoped he hadn't appeared rude in his abrupt departure, but he just couldn't face her any longer. Was it his imagination or was someone trying to tell him something? Someone who had a bit more authority that Colonel Luis Montoya. Not that he'd ever gone in for such talk about an almighty power guiding you through life and all that. Best to just hitch up the horse and go. Before he could change his mind.
He turned toward the stables and jogged to the entrance. His horse was in her stall waiting for him. As he neared the animal he saw that someone was standing on her other side brushing her down. Jose, a young man who worked in the stables as a groom met him with a grin.
"She is such a fine animal, doctor," he said, smoothing the brush down the shiny flanks.
"Yes, she is, but you don't have to rub her down for me," he chided gently as he approached him.
"I don't mind," Jose replied, continuing the even strokes. "When my papa fell and hit his head, you were there to make him better."
"That wasn't my doing," Helm reasoned. "Luckily you're father's head was hard as a brick."
The young man grinned showing his agreement with Dr. Helm's assessment of his father's tenacity.
"Still, he most surely would have died if you had not been there," Jose insisted, turning to look at the doctor. "And for that, I take care of your horse. Will you be needing her today?"
It was an excellent question. Would he?
Jose continued to stare at him waiting patiently for an answer. 'Will you be needing your horse today?'
Robert Helm sighed and hung his head. What did he think he was doing? He thought he could run, and in so doing, *outrun* his problems. But exactly what *was* the problem, and in leaving Santa Elena would he leave it behind? Or would leaving only make it worse?
He had told himself, and Montoya, that his reason for leaving was one of self-preservation. He was tired of being shot at and poked at. Any normal man would be. But fear for his life? He'd been a military intelligence officer during the war, for pity's sake! He'd put his life in jeopardy just by waking up in the morning! No, fear for his personal well-being wasn't entirely the reason why he'd wanted to leave.
And if he admitted that, then he also had to admit to the real reason he was running away. Had he actually been so disappointed by the Queen's lack of response to his entreaties that he had in effect, decided to take his ball and go home? If she wouldn't play the game his way, then he wouldn't play at all? God, that sounded so childish.
"Senor?" Jose prompted looking at him, just a hint of concern in his dark brown eyes.
"Oh, uhm, no," he replied at length. "I don't need the horse at the moment. Go on home. You've done enough. Tell your father I hope he's feeling well."
"Si, doctor," Jose nodded. Replacing the brush he'd been using, he walked past Helm and out of the stables.
Helm approached the horse and let it nuzzle his hand. "So there it is, Equus. I suppose rejection makes men do stupid things. But I just can't leave now."
The horse gave a shake of his head and voiced an understanding whinny.
"No matter how hopeless it seems between us right now, if I leave Santa Elena it will be even more so," Helm rationalized to his equine audience. "I mean, I love my job. I'm a healer. I get satisfaction out of knowing that I helped someone physically or emotionally."
He had started to pace the small confines of the stable and now stopped and looked at Equus for confirmation. In return he got a soft whuffle and a pawing of the ground which he took for agreement.
"Not to mention I'm about the only one these people can trust. With all the Colonel's political games--you do realize that everything he does is for political gain?--I'm the only one they can turn to," he went on. "The only one who doesn't wear a mask that is."
Again the horse neighed, but Helm was too lost in own thoughts now to hear it.
"Aside from that, I guess I hope that despite the tattered condition of our *relationship*, that one day that infuriating woman might actually agree to something more. I suppose I'm just foolish enough to think that eventually I will have her all to myself. And for that, I'm willing to risk not only my health, but my heart as well."
"Doctor Helm!" Jose called as he returned to the stables. "Come quickly! The soldiers are arresting Senor Juarez!"
"What?" Helm asked stunned. "He's just a farmer. Why would they be arresting him?"
"Why do they do anything?" Jose shot back.
Helm followed Jose out of the stables and saw two soldiers 'escorting' the man in question to the jail. Senora Juarez, a frightened Sela in tow, ran to the doctor's side.
"My husband! He's committed no crime!" she told him vehemently. "Why would they arrest my Julio?"
"Don't worry senora," he assured her with a kind smile. "I'll go talk to Colonel Montoya and see what this is all about."
With a wink he squeezed Sela's shoulder reassuringly and stalked toward the Colonel's residence.
This time he didn't wait to be announced.
"Do my eyes deceive me or is the good doctor Helm once more darkening my doorstep?" Montoya asked calmly, not looking up from the papers he was signing. "I thought you would be halfway to Monterrey by now."
"Save your posturing, Colonel," Helm warned as he came to stand before the imposing wooden desk. "You know why I'm here. Why are you arresting Julio Suarez? His wife says he's committed no crime."
"A supportive wife indeed," Montoya agreed. "But as it happens, Senor Juarez has failed to pay his taxes this month. A grievous crime against the entire pueblo."
Helm fumed silently over the ubiquitous taxes. One day everything in Santa Elena would be taxed, including the very air they breathed. "Has he ever not paid his taxes before now?"
"No, he has not, Dr. Helm, that is not the point," Montoya explained tiredly.
"Maybe the *point* is that he can't pay them this month, but I'm sure he will make up for it. Why not give him a break?" Helm asked logically.
"And if I were to give him immunity for not paying his taxes, so would I have to for the next person who refuses to pay his taxes," Montoya insisted coolly. "That way lies chaos and anarchy, doctor."
Helm knew the Colonel wasn't going to budge on the issue. Perhaps he could argue for a lenient sentence. "And just what do you intend to do to him?"
"An example must be made of him of course," Montoya said thoughtfully as he at last looked up at Helm.
"What does that mean exactly?" Helm asked rolling his eyes.
"A year or six at the Monterrey prison has been know to work wonders for social deviants," the Colonel announced pleasantly.
"Social deviants?! Are you out of your mind?" Helm was enraged. "The man is a farmer! He has a wife and daughter to take care of. He's never committed a crime in his life!"
"On the contrary I'm thinking very clearly," Montoya declared as he stood up from his chair. "And as fate would have it, you and Senor Juarez seem to be headed in the same direction. Perhaps he can even ride with you! As a matter of fact I could have a military escort accompany you both, since you don't seem to be leaving."
Mouth agape, Helm stood there shaking his head. Unbelievable! He wanted to shout. He wanted to laugh! The impudence! But not one sound issued forth from his lips. Pulling himself together, he said, "Thank you Colonel, but that won't be necessary. No one is going to Monterrey today."
With that he turned and left the office.
***
Convincing them that as a doctor he should be allowed to examine the prisoner before he was transferred to Monterrey, Helm walked past the soldiers and into Juarez' cell. Sitting in the middle of the dark and dreary enclosure, the man looked weary and just a little frightened.
"Madre de Dios, doctor," he said dropping his head in his hands when Helm approached the bars. "What have I done?"
Compassion clear in his hazel eyes, Helm replied, "Montoya says you didn't pay your taxes this month Julio."
"It's true," Juarez nodded dejectedly. "But I wanted to buy my little Sela something special for her birthday this year. I found the most beautiful doll when the supply ship last came in. Pretty black curls and blue eyes! Sela fell in love with it. You should have seen her face! I was going to pay Montoya double next month, I swear."
"Did you tell Montoya this?" Helm asked with a sinking feeling.
"Yes, he said it was not a good enough reason to steal money from the pueblo," Juarez sighed.
Helm balked. "More like stealing from his pockets."
"What will happen to my family?" the man asked, his eyes wide with concern.
"Don't worry, Julio," Helm promised. "Sit tight. We'll think of something."
***
Several hours later he was crouched behind a rock at La Luna Pass awaiting the arrival of the soldiers. Montoya had been implacable and insisted that Julio Juarez be sent to the mines in Monterrey. Helm wasn't exactly sure what he was going to do once the coach arrived but he was not going to let Juarez miss his daughter's birthday, or the rest of her childhood.
"Fancy meeting you here," a velvety voice came from over his shoulder.
Spinning around he came face to face with the Queen of Swords, smirking in that adorable/infuriating manner she had. She gracefully scrambled beside the rock and looked out to the road where he had been watching earlier.
"What are you doing here?" he wasn't sure if he was pleased or annoyed to see her. She had that effect on him. "I have this situation completely under control!"
"And what situation is that?" she replied smoothly. "Taking on a wagonload of armed soldiers all by yourself?"
"I told Julio that I would get him out of this mess and I intend to do it!" he insisted.
"I'm not here to stop you, doctor," she sighed tossing her long, dark hair over her shoulder. "I simply thought you could use my help."
"Well you thought wrong," he mumbled.
"Fine. I can see now that you don't need me," she said in a frustrated voice. Then she stood up and whistled.
Not far from the stand of nearby rocks where Helm had staked Equus, Chico trotted out and headed dutifully towards his mistress. When the animal was in reach, she grabbed the reins, intending to pull herself up.
"What are you doing?" Helm asked as he stood up from behind his hiding place.
"What does it look like? I'm leaving you to it, doctor."
Blast! Why did she always seem to bring out the worst in him? Perhaps it was because he wanted her to come to him out of love, not because she felt like his bum needed saving. Oh for pity's sake, when would he learn?
"Wait!" he called out, hands on his hips. "You don't have to go."
She turned around and looked at him, sending one perfectly-arched eyebrow in his direction. The sight of it made his stomach flutter but he managed to keep the corresponding look off his face. Or at least he hoped so.
"Are you saying you need my help, doctor?" she asked impishly.
Pursing his lips together he sighed and said, "I need *you.*"
She did not seem to be expecting that particular reply and a look of surprise flitted across her face before she covered her reaction with a grin.
"Well alright then," she answered as she gently swatted Chico on his flanks, sending him back to his hiding place.
They both sank down behind the rock to wait for the coach.
He knew he should be watching to the road ahead but he couldn't seem to keep his eyes from wandering to the woman beside him. She was pressed up against his side, most likely because the rock he'd chosen wasn't exactly big enough for two. Every move she made seemed amplified as the soft material of her tight trousers and loose blouse moved against him. And he smelled lavender. Whether it was on her skin or in her hair he didn't know.
"You know doctor," she said quietly, "we seem to have a very unusual relationship."
"You think?" he smirked.
A smile played across her lips and he could tell she was rolling her eyes behind the mask.
"Why do you think that is?" she pressed.
Helm laughed. "I haven't a clue. I wish I did."
"Me too," she agreed. "Although, it probably wouldn't be as much fun any other way."
"At least it would be normal," he murmured.
She smiled and turned to look at him. "Haven't you heard doctor? Normal is overrated."
Whatever his response would have been it was cut short by the sound of the approaching carriage. As it trundled over the rocky dirt path in their direction, the Queen turned to Helm and asked, "How would you like to handle this, doctor?"
"I suppose trying to talk to them is out of the question," he replied under his breath.
"Here, take this," she instructed as she shoved the hilt of her sword into his hands.
"What? What are you going to do?" he sputtered as she emerged from behind the rock to stand in the middle of the road.
Shouts of "It's the Queen!" and "Stop the coach!" were heard as they came to a halt, the driver pulling up quickly on the reins.
"Buenos dias, gentlemen," she greeted them with a pleasant smile. "I don't guess you'd just hand over the prisoner to me without a long, drawn-out fight in which you'll most likely be not only bested but also humiliated?"
The two soldiers on the front of the coach exchanged confused looks and then reached for their weapons.
"Alright, then," she sighed melodramatically. "I did try."
Within seconds she'd loosed her whip on the unsuspecting soldiers. Using it to fling the sword out of the first's hands, she then rolled low to ground to sweep the second off his feet. When two more soldiers jumped out of the carriage she yelled over her shoulder, "You can join me anytime doctor!"
"Somehow that wasn't exactly the way I'd hoped to hear those words," Helm grimaced as he came around the back of the coach to intercept the soldiers. After a few well-placed hits with the hilt of the Queen's sword, he met her at the front of the coach where she had just rendered the first two soldiers unconscious.
"Nice work," he remarked as he tossed her the sword. Then opening the curtain on the side of the coach he called out, "Julio?"
Helm assisted the very confused but grateful man to his feet.
"Madre de dios," he gasped as he saw the woman in black. "It's the Queen of Swords!"
"Don't thank me, Julio," she said, motioning in Helm's direction. "This was all the doctor's doing."
"Thank you," the man replied emotionally. "Both of you!"
"I'd better be going," the Queen said as she whistled for Chico. As the horse trotted over, she reached into a pouch on her belt and pulled out several gold reales. Handing them over to Julio she said, "Go settle your debt with Montoya. And don't give him another reason to come after you."
"Gracias, la reina!" he said, a smile splitting his weathered face.
"Come on, Julio," Helm said as he placed an arm around the man's shoulders. "Let's get you back home, shall we?"
***
The next morning dawned bright and hopeful and Robert Helm found himself still in Santa Elena. After returning Julio to his family he had stayed up half the night unpacking and putting everything back in its place. He didn't analyze his decision too much. He was afraid if he did, he might end up right back where he started.
That morning the town square was colorfully decorated for Sela's birthday party. As the Juarezes were friendly and hardworking citizens of the pueblo, nearly the whole town had turned out for the event. The little girl was thrilled to see the doctor there and insisted he hold her on his lap while they stuffed themselves with Senora Juarez' empanadas. After the pink and blue burro-shaped piñata had been split open, the children gathered together to sort our their bounty, while the adults talked amongst themselves.
Senorita Maria Theresa Alvarado cornered Helm by the punch bowl and commented on the wonderful party. As he was attempting to remain civilized with the Dona, Colonel Montoya approached them both.
"Good afternoon Colonel," Maria Theresa greeted him. "Isn't this just a lovely party?"
"Indeed, senorita," Montoya agreed as he bent low over her gloved hand. "And a finer day one could not have asked for."
Maria Theresa raised an eyebrow in Dr. Helm's direction but he merely looked off in the distance.
"Did you not hear, Maria Theresa?" the Colonel queried, his full attention on Helm. "We almost lost our good doctor here."
"What?" she asked turning to face Helm. "What are you talking about Colonel?"
"Sadly, it's true," Montoya replied compassionately. "Is it not, doctor? He was going to leave our little pueblo for the modern conveniences and relative normality of Monterrey."
Sending a questioning glance in Helm's direction she replied, "Well, fortunately for us, it appears that he has changed his mind."
"Well," Helm replied, hands deep in his trouser pockets, "someone told me that normal was overrated."
Maria Theresa smiled at this statement. "Really, doctor?"
"Really," he replied curtly, before excusing himself and heading for the food table.
***
That night after he'd gone to bed, he woke up to a slight pressure on his chest. Opening his eyes he was not completely surprised to find a black gloved hand caressing him. The Queen sat there on the edge of the bed, the moonlight from the open window streaming in behind her and a coy smile on her beautiful face.
"Buenos noches doctor," she breathed.
"Hello," he replied. He tried to sit up, but the Queen's hand gentled him back down.
"You were going to leave," she said. It was neither a question nor an accusation.
"How did you know?" he asked, his eyes going slightly wide.
"Word gets around in a small town," she smiled.
Helm nodded and then remembered, "Thank you for your help yesterday. With Julio."
"You don't need to thank me, doctor," she replied. "However, I do feel that I need to reassure you that you made the right decision in staying in Santa Elena."
He looked at her questioningly as she leaned forward and brushed her lips over his. As she ran her still-gloved hands over his chest once more, she broke the kiss and said, "One thing though: the mask stays on...at least for now."
And a thought came to Robert Helm as he lay in his narrow bed making love to a beautiful woman wearing nothing but a black lace mask: "Indeed, normal is highly overrated."
