 
### Forever Hearts

### Copyright 2014 Mia Rodriguez

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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### Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8: Valentina

Chapter 9

Chapter 10: Valentina

Chapter 11: Valentina

Chapter 12: Valentina

Chapter 13: Valentina

Chapter 14: Valentina

Chapter 15: Valentina

Chapter 16: Valentina

Chapter 17: Valentina

Chapter 18: Valentina

Chapter 19

Chapter 20: Valentina

Chapter 21: Valentina

Chapter 22: Valentina

Chapter 23

Chapter 24: Valentina

Chapter 25: Valentina

Chapter 26: Valentina

Chapter 27: Valentina

Chapter 28: Valentina

Chapter 29: Valentina

Chapter 30: Valentina

Chapter 31

Chapter 32: Valentina

Chapter 33: Valentina

Chapter 34: Valentina

Chapter 35: Valentina

Chapter 36: Valentina

Chapter 37

Chapter 38: Valentina

Chapter 39: Valentina

Chapter 40: Valentina

Chapter 41: Valentina

Chapter 42: Valentina

Chapter 43: Valentina

Chapter 44

Chapter 45: Valentina

Chapter 46: Valentina

Chapter 47: Valentina

Chapter 48: Valentina

Chapter 49: Valentina

Chapter 50: Valentina

Chapter 51: Valentina

Chapter 52: Valentina

Chapter 53: Valentina

Chapter 54: Valentina

Chapter 55: Valentina

Chapter 56

Chapter 57: Valentina

Chapter 58: Valentina

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

In the seeds of yesterday lay the foundations for today. For every ending there is a beginning . . .

Prologue

BOOM!!!

What happened?! An explosion!

Why is that sharp knife coming towards me?!

Chapter 1

"So tell me why you're here," coaxed Dr. Kate O'Leary from her black leather wingback chair facing Valeria Loya's one in the small, efficient, no frills psychiatry office.. Gently probing into the psyche of her patients was her specialty. If she dug too abruptly or too fast, she found it might shock the senses or collapse the internal process. Most of the time, patience and understanding worked best along with simple, non-threatening questions.

"I've got a problem with romantic relationships."

Dr. O'Leary winced. She knew about those problems all too well and not just from inside the walls of her practice. "You do?"

"I'm forty-two years old and have never been able to commit," stated Valeria, her long, curly, black hair flowing freely past her shoulders to her waist and her dark brown eyes frowning.

"Not ever?"

"No. I've got a real problem with intimacy." Valeria's voluptuous form closed off as she crossed her arms over her generous bosom.

"Tell me about it."

"I fall in love or at least infatuation and then when I start getting serious, the nightmare comes."

"The nightmare?"

"I've had this recurring nightmare all of my life."

"You've had a recurring nightmare _all_ of your life?"

"As far back as I can remember."

Dr. O'Leary stopped writing in Valeria's chart and her full attention went to her patient. "Even as a child?"

"Yes, even then."

"Tell me about this nightmare," Dr. O'Leary coaxed.

"There's an explosion. A pregnant woman is lying on the ground. A really sharp knife is going towards her."

"Who are you in this dream?"

"I'm the pregnant woman on the ground—the one who is unconscious."

"Unconscious?" Dr. O'Leary asked, her voice probing.

"Why do I have this horrible nightmare?"

"Your dream can mean many things."

"All I know is that I keep having the same exact nightmare over and over again."

"It doesn't change at all?"

"No, it always stays the same."

Dr. O'Leary's eyebrows knit together. "And you say you've had it since you were very small?"

"Imagine having a weird nightmare like that when you're just out of diapers."

"Pregnant woman, huh? Do you know the circumstances surrounding your birth?"

"I know where your heading, Dr. O'Leary. I've talked about this to my previous therapist. My mother insists my birth was very normal."

Dr. O'Leary's eyebrows didn't loosen their tight stance. "I see."

Valeria gritted her teeth. "It's frustrating to hit a brick wall."

"Don't look at it like a brick wall," soothed Dr. O'Leary. "It's an opportunity to do some more exploration."

"But—"

"Valeria, it's a _great_ opportunity," she emphasized, her voice at its calmest. She found that the more wound up and stressed her patients were, the harder it was to get to the root of the problem. "We'll explore your dream some more, okay?"

"Okay."

"I just want to ask you some more questions, okay?"

"Okay."

"Do you think this dream affects your romantic relationships?" asked Dr. O'Leary.

"I _know_ it does. As soon as I get serious with a guy, I have the nightmare and it's like everything inside shuts off," explained Valeria. "I can't go on with the relationship after that."

"I see."

"Until recently, I thought my romantic problems were over. Leonel and I have been in a solid relationship for over a year but then we got engaged and the nightmare came back. I'm having a full fledged panic attack."

"Panic attack?"

"My heart beats fast, my palms sweat, and I hyperventilate when I think about my wedding day. I've been to several psychiatrists, and we've gone through everything from my childhood to my adulthood and we can't figure out what's wrong. You have no idea how many therapists have dissected everything about my nightmare and I've gotten nowhere. I'm pretty sure I've got something locked deep in my psyche."

"We'll get in there, Valeria."

"You're an expert hypnotist, right?—the best hypnotherapist in El Paso."

"We'll get in your mind and see if you're covering anything up."

"Okay, great."

Dr. O'Leary looked at her chart. "You don't take any medication?"

"No."

"No Prozac or anything like that?" Dr. O'Leary asked, surprised.

"No."

"Nothing for anxiety?"

"Nope. I only feel anxious when I think about marriage."

"We'll do everything possible to get to the bottom of this. We'll try to get to what's locked in your subconscious."

"I'm so relieved."

They arranged for their next session. As soon as Valeria left, Dr. O'Leary sat at her desk and closed her eyes. While the session had been a little draining as most first sessions were, it was especially difficult with what was twisting in her anguished heart. The tragedy. She squeezed the top of her nose, between her eyes, with her thumb and her index finger. She took quick breaths in and out. So far she was making it through the week. Even though the tragedy had threatened to down her, she was surviving minute by minute, second by second.

At least her new patient was _open_ , she thought. Many times she'd have closed people who even though they were there, resisted her help. But Valeria Loya seemed anxious to get to the root of her problem. That intense dream she kept having could have many explanations. But of one thing Dr. O'Leary was certain, her professional instincts kicking in full force, it held the key to whatever Valeria had locked deep inside.

Chapter 2

"How was your day, Katie?" asked a male voice as Kate O'Leary stepped in the door of her home.

Even after all the years of being with him, her lover still managed to jolt her at the first sight of him. His particular manly beauty with his dark-chocolate eyes, wavy deep-brown hair, and sunshine kissed skin that made his already rich sienna color even sexier, were almost too much for her.

"Fine," she said, pecking his lips. It was so good to be home. Even though the house belonged to Enzo, she was the one who had decorated and the modern style of the décor eased her frail nerves. "How was your day, sweetheart?

"Summer school," he said with annoyance. "Those restless kids can be such a pain, but I guess I knew what I was in for when I volunteered to work summers."

Kate smiled. Even when he was complaining, his caring voice with the sexy, barely-there accent sounded like music. "You don't fool me with all your moaning, Enzo. You love your job."

He smiled back. "Don't tell my students that."

Kate nodded. "What would they do without you?" _Like I have to do without Lindsey from now on_ , she thought as she went into the darkness inside her.

His concerned eyes swept over her. "Right now, it's not my students I'm worried about."

"You're not worried about me, are you?"

"Of course I am," he said intently. "Maybe you should've taken some more time off."

"I'm fine."

He stepped closer to her, his body only about an inch away. "Katie, you don't look fine," he declared quietly.

She ran her fingers over her naturally red bob. "I'm fine. Stop worrying about me."

"You're not _fine_ ," he insisted gently.

"I am."

"I'm here for you, Katie."

"I know."

"You don't have to be strong."

"I need to keep it together."

"Not with me you don't."

"But Enzo—"

"Let it out, Katie."

"I—"

"Let it out."

Sobs of such unbelievable strength dislodged themselves from every part of her body that she collapsed like a grocery bag emptied of its food. He grabbed her before she could hit the floor and steadied her to the sofa that was next to them. Pulling her tightly to his chest, a non-stop flood of stale tears rushed out. Kate had only cried once, on the first day of learning of her best friend's death. Enzo figured she had a whole dam built inside.

Tears fell one after another from her shiny green eyes. "Lindsey's gone. Gone."

"I'm so sorry, Katie."

At the moment, Kate was so incredibly grateful to her lover—for his deep understanding, for his fortitude, for his unshakeable presence. At this critical juncture in her life, he was her rock. What would she have done without him? Thank goodness they lived together.

"Why did she have to die?" Kate asked with bitterness and anger. "Why?"

She tired to pull out from inside her head what she would tell her patients when they were having similar breakdowns, but she couldn't find an answer that would satisfy her. Working with broken people from the outside to the inside didn't compare to being inside an overwhelming storm. Knowing the textbook answers, the stages of grief, and dispersing helpful words was completely different from experiencing the pain. She realized the desperate truth to the adage; _doctors make their own worst patients._

"I don't have any answers for you, Katie, but all I can say is that I'm here for you."

Chapter 3

"How old are you?" asked Dr. O'Leary. Valeria was already deeply hypnotized.

"I'm eleven-years-old," said Valeria, her voice soft and tender.

"Where are you?"

"I'm having a picnic with my mom at a river in Mexico."

"Are you having a good time?"

"Oh yeah!"

"So what's happening?"

"I'm playing tag with my cousins and then . . . and then . . ." Valeria started grabbing her throat frantically and making choking sounds.

"For now, place yourself out of there as if you're a spectator and tell me what's happening with little Valeria."

Valeria's hands stopped jerking and a calm enveloped her. "Valeria fell into the river. Nothing like this has ever happened to her. She got too close to the edge."

"What's happening to her?"

"Water is enveloping her, dragging her down. It's an undertow."

"She's drowning?" Dr. O'Leary asked with a pained voice as Lindsey's own death came at her like a train out of nowhere.

"She yells and screams, and her mother jumps in the river and saves her."

"What happens after that?" Dr. O'Leary asked anxiously.

"Valeria never wants to be away from her mother's arms."

"Valeria is very close to her mother?" asked Dr. O'Leary.

"Yes, very."

"How does she feel when she's with her mother?"

"Taken care of and very safe."

"So her mother provides a safety net for her?"

"Yes."

"At the count of three, you'll wake up and remember everything—one, two, three."

Valeria's eyes fluttered open. Feeling as if she had awoken from a vivid dream, she looked at Dr. O'Leary with bleary eyes.

"How are you feeling, Valeria?" asked Dr. O'Leary.

"Fine but . . ."

"But what?"

"I had never realized that I almost drowned when I was a kid."

"You must've buried it deep inside you because it was so traumatic."

"Is that normal?" asked Valeria. "It's not like I actually drowned and had to be revived or anything."

"Certain events are more painful to some people than to others."

"That explains why I've never been able to get in the water. While my cousins were having a great time swimming, I'd always stay with my mother."

"In her arms you found safety."

"My mom and dad live only a few blocks from me."

"I imagine you're very close to them."

"Yes, very. Do you think that that's why I keep having the nightmare where an unborn child needs to be saved from a dangerous situation while inside an unconscious woman?"

"Maybe."

"Do you think that I can't commit to a man because I don't want to leave the safety of my mom?"

"Maybe. I still want to regress you further to see if there isn't something else."

"Okay, Dr. O'Leary."

"We'll take it slow like today to make sure we ease you where you need to go."

"Sounds good."

Valeria stepped out into the waiting room where she arranged her next appointment through Dr. O'Leary's receptionist. A few minutes later, she returned with a handsome man of average build and dark-brown hair.

"Dr. O'Leary," Valeria said, smiling. "I want to introduce you to my fiancé. This is Leonel."

Dr. O'Leary stuck out her hand and he immediately took it, pumping it with energy.

"I'm glad to meet you, Leonel," Dr. O'Leary said, surprised at his enthusiasm for shaking her hand.

"I'm thrilled to meet you, Dr. O'Leary. "Just _thrilled_. "I can't thank you enough for what you're doing for Val."

"Please don't thank me. I'm just doing my job."

"We have so much hope for this treatment," he explained.

"We're going to try our best," Dr. O'Leary affirmed, nodding at Valeria.

As they left, Dr. O'Leary stared out her oversized wall window to the vigorous movement below. Since her office was on the second floor of the building, she could clearly see the noisy beehive and frenetic energy that was downtown El Paso, Texas. She didn't pay attention to the busy streets, or the other skyscrapers; she was deep in her mind.

_Are you anywhere out there, my friend?_ Dr. O'Leary wondered. Valeria had been so lucky in not drowning unlike Lindsey who hadn't had anybody to pull her out of the ocean and into safety. Instead, Lindsey's lifeless shell had floated to the shore. _Damn it!_ How many times had she tried to convince Lindsey to stop with the extreme sports? But her best friend had refused and had kept courting danger until she ended up dead in Hawaii. Dead in paradise—how did that make any sense? But Lindsey had gone surfing during a bad storm and only her empty body had come back. Where the rest of her had gone had become the magic question.

Where are you, Lindsey?

Where?

_She's nowhere,_ Dr. O'Leary chided herself, trying to stop the misplaced hope from growing in her mind. She had stopped believing in an afterlife so long ago that she could hardly remember when she believed in one.

Lindsey's nowhere.

Chapter 4

"Hi, beautiful," Enzo said as soon as Kate stepped in the front door. As usual, he sat on the simple, jet-black, leather sofa and graded papers on a tinted glass cocktail table.

"Hello, handsome," Kate gushed, pecking his lips. Coming home to him was the best part of the day. "How were the kids today?"

"Actually," he said, smiling, "they were very good."

"Must be their teacher."

He chuckled. "Must be the riot act I read them yesterday," he stated, eyeing her. "How are _you_ today, Katie?"

Kate sat next to him, shoulder to shoulder, and he put his arm around her. His nearness filled her with warmth and calm. "Better."

"Really?" he asked anxiously.

"Yes," she said, giving him a weak smile. "Not great but better—a little better than yesterday as yesterday was a teensy bit better than the day before and so on."

"You don't know how happy I am to hear that."

Kate sighed. "Healing is such a complicated process."

His arms squeezed her with gentility and purpose. "You're doing great."

"I am?"

He lightly caressed her soft red hair with his right hand. "Yes."

She sighed deeper. "I've had so many things going through my head that I wonder if I'm not going crazy."

"Why would you think that?"

"It's just that Lindsey's death has made me question everything."

"Like what?" he asked, looking at Kate with concern.

She took in a small burst of air. "Enzo, do you think there's something else when we die?" The words rushed out of her mouth so quickly that she didn't have time to take them back or re-configure them.

His worried expression turned into one of puzzlement. "What do you mean? Like an afterlife?"

Kate nodded, relieved he had caught on without further explanation. "Exactly."

He turned solemn and pensive. "That's some question—especially coming from you."

"I know that I'm a self-avowed atheist, not even an agnostic but a full fledged atheist but . . . but . . . Oh, I don't know."

"But your best friend died and suddenly the old answers you thought you had don't seem good enough anymore."

Kate rested her head on his shoulder and squeezed closer to him on the sofa. "That's exactly it," she proclaimed with a smile, incredibly relieved he had understood without her having to explain.

"Katie, it's normal to be questioning your beliefs when someone close dies. You know this better than I do."

"I guess that even as a therapist, I'm not immune to being human."

"I would hope not," he said gently, putting his hand over hers and squeezing.

Kate rewarded him with a small smile. "I'm just so lost right now."

"I know," he said quietly. "But you're not alone. I'm with you."

Kate kissed his cheek. "Thank you, sweetheart. If there is a heaven then you're it."

"Heaven, huh," he said, chuckling. "I'm sure there's much more to heaven than me."

"I know we've never talked about this subject before since I'm a non-believer and you don't seem to be religious, but _now_ I really want to know how you feel about what happens to us when we die."

"After we die?"

"Is there an afterlife?"

Enzo's eyebrows came together in deep contemplation. "I can tell you that I'm not an atheist."

"So you believe in God?"

"Yes, I guess I do."

"And that there's a continuation after we die?"

"Maybe it's just wishful thinking on my part but I can't help feeling that we don't end here on earth."

"I know what you mean. Seeing Lindsey's empty body, I kept thinking, _where is she_?"

"There seems to be more out there than our tiny brains can understand."

Kate nodded. "Maybe so."

"Yes, maybe."

Chapter 5

"Valeria, let's go back as far as we can. Did anything traumatic happen then?" asked Dr. O'Leary, looking at Valeria who was already in deep hypnotic state.

As peculiar as it sounded to the average person, Dr. O'Leary had regressed some of her patients to when they were still in their mothers' wombs. She found that if anything traumatic had happened to their mothers at that point, they still felt the repercussions many years later when they were out of the uterus. Maybe this was the reason for Valeria's recurring dream. Even though her mother insisted she had had a normal pregnancy, Dr. O'Leary found that parents often told what they considered to be white lies in order to protect their children, not knowing they were actually doing the opposite.

Valeria gasped for air. "Me estoy—"

"English please," stated Dr. O'Leary. "Or I won't be able to understand you."

"I'm drowning," she said, still desperately gasping.

Dr. O'Leary had forgotten to place her out of herself. "Valeria, put yourself outside of—"

"Lucio pulls me out of the water," she announced with relief and gratitude in her still tight voice.

"What?"

"I get pulled out of the water."

Complete confusion overtook Dr. O'Leary. Why had Valeria not gone further back? Why had she stayed at her near drowning? It must've been even more traumatic than Dr. O'Leary had envisioned if Valeria couldn't move on. But who was Lucio?

"Lucio? Who is that?" asked Dr. O'Leary.

"He's a boy," she stated, still gulping for air. "

"Did he get to you before your mother did?"

Valeria shook her head, her breathing starting to normalize. "My mama isn't here."

"What?"

"She's at the house, and I'm at the river. I slipped on the muddy banks," Valeria explained softly.

Fully baffled, Dr. O'Leary didn't know what to make of the turn in events. What was going on in Valeria's head that two different episodes of the same happening were occurring? Or maybe she had almost drowned a second time? That was why it had been so devastating to her psyche.

"Valeria—"

"You keep calling me that, but that's not my name."

"What's your name?"

"My name is Valentina."

"Valentina?"

"Yes, I'm Valentina."

_What is going on?_ "Is that what you like to be called?"

"It's my name."

"Valeria isn't your name?"

"No, it's Valentina," she insisted.

Dr. O'Leary would go with it for the time being. "How old are you, Valentina?"

"It's my birthday today."

"It is?"

"I'm eleven years old now."

"Eleven years old?"

"Yes."

Had two near drowning accidents happened in the same year and had her parents slightly changed her name from Valeria to Valentina? Maybe they did it to get her mind off of the tragedies that almost took place. People did strange things when confronted with adversity. Valeria's psyche was certainly a maze, thought Dr. O'Leary. It was no wonder she had psychological problems.

"So a boy pulled you out of the water?" asked Dr. O'Leary.

"Yes," she said. "Lucio."

"Lucio saved your life?"

"When I fell into the river, I couldn't get out!" she cried, gulping for air as her voice became agitated again. "It was full of water that moved so fast! I screamed and screamed!" she asserted, hyperventilating.

"Its okay, Valentina, you're fine now," soothed Dr. O'Leary.

Valentina's hard breaths barely allowed her to speak. "I thought I was going to die! I thought I was going to drown!"

"But Lucio pulled you out," Dr. O'Leary stated firmly, trying to get her out of that state but deciding against placing Valentina outside of herself. All this was extraordinarily odd to say the least, and Dr. O'Leary made a sudden decision to go with it to see where it would go.

"Yes, Lucio pulled me out," she declared, her voice calming down.

"What happens after that?"

"Lucio takes me to my house and my mama scolds me," she said, disconcertedly. "She tells me to be more careful when I go to the river."

"Valentina, had you almost drowned earlier in the year?"

"No."

"No?"

"It was just once."

Something was definitely strange, leaving Dr. O'Leary in a very confused state. How could her patient remember an episode in her life two different ways? In her entire career, Dr. O'Leary had never encountered such a problem. Maybe another near drowning had happened later in the year but in the last session, Valeria had said that nothing like that had ever happened to her. And she had also said she was eleven while in this session she just turned that age, so she couldn't have almost drowned earlier in her eleventh year. What was going on inside Valeria's head? Or was it Valentina?

"Why did your mama change your name from Valeria to Valentina?" Kate asked.

"She didn't."

"What's your last name, Valentina?"

"Cantares."

What?! None of this made any sense to Dr. O'Leary whatsoever. Could Valeria Loya have another personality? Dr. O'Leary didn't know what to think. If that was the case, she didn't have much experience with multiple personalities. She worried about being able to treat Valeria.

"At the count of three I want you to wake up, and you'll recall nothing, okay?"

"Okay."

"One, two, three."

Valeria fluttered her eyes open. Disoriented and with a puzzled look, she glanced at Dr. O'Leary, who stared at her intently.

"What happened?" Valeria asked.

"How do you feel?"

"Fine, but what happened?"

"What happened?" echoed Dr. O'Leary disconcertedly.

"I can't remember anything. What did we talk about?"

"Don't worry about it. I do need to ask you some questions."

"What questions?" Valeria uttered, still disoriented.

"Do you ever have blackouts?"

Valeria shook her head. "No, why?"

"You don't ever lose time, wondering why whole periods of time seem to get lost?"

"No, why are you asking me these questions?" Valeria asked suspiciously.

"I'm just trying to cover all bases."

"You are?" Valeria questioned.

"Yes."

"Okay," Valeria mumbled.

"Do you know someone named Valentina Cantares?"

"Valentina Cantares?" Valeria asked, puzzled.

"Yes."

"No, I've never heard of her. Dr. O'Leary, these questions are making me nervous."

Dr. O'Leary smiled soothingly at her. "Don't get nervous, Valeria. We're just covering some ground, okay?"

"Okay," Valeria said, still sounding unconvinced.

"Valeria," Dr. O'Leary stated strongly. "We're just exploring different things, that's all. We still have lots of work to do, okay?"

"Okay." This time Valeria sounded more convinced.

Another appointment was set and as soon as Valeria left the office, Dr. O'Leary stepped into her private lavatory and splashed cold water on her face. This case was absolutely frustrating and making no sense.

A few hours later, Kate O'Leary was still trying to decipher the Loya case as she stepped into her home.

"I need to tell you something but promise me that you won't get upset," Enzo said as soon as Kate had sat next to him on the sofa where he had graded the last of his paperwork.

"What is it?" Kate stammered. "Are my parents okay? My sisters?"

"Everything is okay, Katie," he said, putting an arm around her. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"Are you sure they're okay?"

"They're fine."

Relief poured from her face. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry I fly off the handle so easily these days," she murmured.

"Katie, it's natural that you're overprotective with your loved ones."

"I feel as if everyone around me can be snatched away just like that. Just like . . ."

"Lindsey," He said, gently finishing the sentence for her.

"Yes . . . Lindsey."

He put his other arm around her and created a safe cocoon. Kate could feel his entire warm body envelope her. After a few seconds, she spoke.

"What did you need to tell me, sweetheart?"

"Maybe we should talk about it another day," he said, eyeing her.

"Tell me please."

"I don't know if I should," he said with trepidation. "At least not yet, anyway."

"You'd better tell me because you're scaring me."

"It's really not a big deal," he stated.

"Then what is it?"

"It's about Casey."

Kate clenched her teeth. Casey was the last person she wanted to discuss.

"What about him?" she grumbled.

"You're getting upset. We'll talk another time."

"Tell me now, Enzo. What about that good-for-nothing?"

"He came by earlier," he informed.

"For what?"

"He just needed to talk."

"About what?"

"Lindsey."

"He wanted to talk about Lindsey?" asked an astonished Kate.

"Yes."

"Why?" Kate questioned.

"Katie," he said gently, "just because he was a bad husband and she divorced him doesn't mean he didn't love her."

"I know he loved her, but he didn't treat her very well—always putting her down," stated Kate.

"He's full of insecurities."

"Many, many insecurities," retorted Kate.

"And he brought them with him when he got together with Lindsey."

"At least he didn't let them stop him from marrying her," blurted Kate, biting her tongue as soon as she realized what she had said. "Sorry, Enzo."

"What good is it to be in a marriage like they had?" he questioned. "They ended up divorced."

"That doesn't mean _we'll_ end up divorced," Kate said quietly.

"It doesn't mean we won't," Enzo stated.

"People take that kind of a risk every day," she mentioned lightly. Sometimes, she couldn't help feeling like a failure with Enzo. For all her training, she hadn't been able to do anything with his fear of marriage but maybe if she was able to help with Valeria's fear of commitment, she'd find a way to help Enzo. He had had an especially devastating break-up with a former fiancée and refused to even consider marriage. "It's what people do."

"I'm not like other people," he grumbled.

"We're mature adults, Enzo," she declared. "We're nothing like Casey."

"Even mature people make mistakes."

"But—"

"Let's drop this," he said, irritated.

"Enzo—"

"Anyway, Casey is pretty broken up about Lindsey. He said he never stopped loving her and now realizes that he was a bad husband."

"It's too late," Kate stated sadly. "She's dead. He should've realized it when she was alive."

Enzo nodded. "Casey kept saying that he'd never be able to see her again, that he wouldn't have a second chance to right the wrong he did her."

Kate shrugged her shoulders disconcertedly. "I'll say it again—the fool should've realized it when she was alive."

"Yes, he should've," agreed Enzo. "It's too late now."

Chapter 6

This time, Dr. O'Leary decided to audio record the session. It was less obtrusive than using any type of camera. Valeria had already signed a consent form to use whatever reasonable device for her therapy. In order to be able to better communicate with her, instead of questioning a child, Dr. O'Leary took her as Valentina past her childhood.

"How old are you now?" asked Dr. O'Leary.

"Fifteen, but I'm about to turn sixteen in a few days," she informed.

"Is your name still Valentina Cantares?"

"Of course," she said, "What else would it be?"

"Do you have a middle name?"

"No."

"Valentina Cantares is the name you've had since birth?"

"Yes."

Dr. O'Leary sighed deeply. "Okay, Valentina. So you're fifteen and about to turn sixteen."

"Yes."

"Tell me about your life."

"There isn't much to tell," Valentina mumbled nervously.

"I'm sure there is."

"Not really," Valentina rushed.

Apparently, Valentina didn't want to say much, and it was obvious she was hiding something. Dr. O'Leary would have to pull her out of her fortress. "How's your family?"

"They're fine," answered Valentina, her voice easing up a bit.

"Your mom?"

"She's very well."

"No more drowning episodes?"

"I'm very careful when I'm close to the water."

"You haven't had any more incidents in the river?"

"No."

"H-m-m," Dr. O'Leary let out. "Are you sure about that?"

"Yes."

"Have you seen this boy, Lucio, since almost drowning?"

Valentina gasped loudly. "I've seen him around," she said nervously.

"Tell me about him."

"I can't," she blurted.

"Why not?"

"I just can't," Valentina said with a firmer voice.

"But—"

"It's a secret."

"What is?"

"I really don't want to talk about it," Valentina stated firmly.

"You can tell me," coaxed Dr. O'Leary.

"I can't," Valentina insisted, shutting down.

Dr. O'Leary let out a heavy sigh. If she pushed further she risked losing all rapport with her. "Okay, Valentina. So are you excited about your birthday?"

"Yes, very."

"Are your parents planning a big birthday party for you?"

"No, there's no money for that, but we're going into town to have my picture taken."

"You are?" asked Dr. O'Leary.

"I'm wearing my favorite pink dress."

"That'll be a pretty color for the picture."

"But the color won't show."

"What do you mean?"

"The picture will be in black and white."

"Black and white?" Dr. O'Leary questioned.

"Yes, of course."

"Not in color?"

"Pictures aren't in color," Valentina asserted.

Dr. O'Leary's mouth went dry. "Not in color?"

"No."

She suddenly thought of what her next question had to be. "Valentina," she stammered, "what year is it?"

"1898."

Chapter 7

What!!!!

Dr. O'Leary ended their session abruptly, telling Valeria she had an emergency she needed to attend to. As soon as Valeria was gone, she had her receptionist cancel all of her appointments for the day. In the lavatory, she splashed herself with cold water several times.

When Kate arrived at an empty house, she put a cold compress on her head and slumped down on the sofa. One word kept echoing in her head, preventing her from a single moment of relaxation.

Reincarnation.

She had read and heard about this happening to some, a select few, of her colleagues when they hypnotized patients, but she hadn't actually believed it. Thinking it was a way to get publicity for themselves, she had dismissed those psychiatrists as quacks. _There has to be a logical explanation,_ she kept telling herself. _There has to be!_

By the time her lover arrived home, she had convinced herself she'd have to dig further into Valeria's psyche to get to the truth.

"How was your day?" asked Enzo, pecking her lips.

"Complicated."

"Oh?" He raised one eyebrow. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she murmured.

"You look a little out of it, Katie," he said, concerned.

"Sweetheart, do you believe in reincarnation?" she blurted, embarrassed.

"What?"

"Nothing," she stated.

"Did you ask me if I believed in reincarnation?"

"I'm just making conversation," she stammered.

"Have you been talking to Constance next door?"

"Of course not," Kate retorted. While they liked Constance well enough, they both thought she was a little addled in the brain. She was one of those new age people who had a house full of crystals and believed in all kinds of unusual ideas like past lives.

"Then why are you asking me about reincarnation?" he asked.

"I'm just curious."

He looked at her strangely. "Do you really want to know?"

"Yes."

His voice turned mischievous. "Well, if you must know, I think I was an insect in another life."

Kate rolled her eyes. "Be serious."

He chuckled darkly. "You actually want to have a serious conversation about reincarnation?"

"Yes, I do."

"Katie, what is bringing this on?" he asked, concerned.

She absolutely couldn't tell him what was happening. First, it had to do with doctor/patient confidentiality and also, she just didn't want to admit to the craziness swallowing her up.

"It's just something I've been wondering about," she stated, hoping she had sounded convincing.

"Is this about Lindsey?" he asked gently.

"No, I—"

"Katie, you can't bring her back," he said quietly, caressing her hair. "She's gone."

"I know."

"Then why are you asking me about reincarnation?"

"I've already told you. I'm curious."

He frowned. "No, I don't believe in reincarnation."

"You sure about that?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"You're positive there's no such thing?" she asked. "Absolutely positive?"

"Yes."

"You're the one who said that there seems to be more out there than we can understand, remember?"

"Yes, I said it but I didn't mean something as ridiculous as reincarnation."

"Ridiculous?"

"Katie, you're going to get through what happened to Lindsey."

"Enzo—"

"We'll take it one day at a time, okay?"

"Enzo—"

"Okay?"

Kate stared out the window, lost in her thoughts. "Okay," she said feebly.

During Valeria's next session, Dr. O'Leary decided she wanted to speak to someone older than a teen-ager. _There has to be a logical explanation_ , reverberated in her mind.

"How old are you?" she asked Valentina.

"I'm in my mid-twenties."

"I'm assuming that your name is still Valentina."

"Yes, of course."

Valentina sounded very mature and unlike the child and adolescent she had spoken to before. "Are you still full of secrets?"

"No, life has cured me of them."

"It has?" asked Dr. O'Leary.

"Yes," Valentina said bitterly. "A lot has happened."

"Are you sure that you're in the late1800's?"

"I'm not in the late 1800's."

"You're not?" Dr. O'Leary asked, relieved.

"I'm in the early 1900's," Valentina stated matter-of-factly.

Dr. O'Leary wanted to kick herself. Of course Valentina was no longer in 1898. Having forwarded Valentina so she was talking to a young lady had forwarded time also.

"The last time I talked to you, it was going to be your sixteenth birthday and you were taking a picture."

Valentina nodded. "That birthday was so important."

"It was?"

"It was the day that changed the whole course of my life."

"Will you tell me about it?"

"Are you sure you're interested in it?"

"I want you to tell me about your life," Dr. O'Leary assured.

"My life?"

"Yes."

"I find that most people are too caught up with their own problems to want to hear someone else's."

"Valentina, I'm very interested in your story. Start from the beginning."

"Are you sure you want to hear this?"

"Tell me _everything,_ please."

Chapter 8: Valentina's Story

My mother told me that I was born during the hottest summer she'd ever seen. "It was so hot that the cows laid down in the pasture with their tongues sticking out," she'd say in her exaggerated way. She worried that I wouldn't make it through the scorching summer, that I'd die of dehydration like so many babies were doing but that wasn't my destiny.

Instead, I grew strong and even helped my mother at the _Big House_ where she worked as the head cook. The Sevillas would never allow anyone, young or old, to be idle at the hacienda—except for themselves. According to them, if you were born of the lower classes and were older than a toddler, then you should be earning your keep.

"I will _not_ permit any lazy, good-for-nothings on my hacienda!" snapped Don Clemencio when the workers were dragging their tired bodies from waking up at the crack of dawn and not getting to their homes until way after dark.

So ever since I was five years old, I had a full work load. While my hands were small, I could still cut potatoes faster than a grown-up. And I was happy to take some of the burden away from my mother. She worried that I was too mature for my age even though most of the children born into hunger were forced to grow up fast. There wasn't a lot of playtime for those with constant growling stomachs—only hard work that never seemed to end.

Toiling away in the main house of the Sevilla Hacienda was a wretched nightmare to a child with my explosive temper. It wasn't a coincidence that I was born during the most blistering day of the year. To most of the other servant children, the _Big House_ was a dreamy fantasy but to me it was the opposite. The pompous two-story home with very little warmth and affection stood in the middle of endless stretches of land—much further than the eyes could see and amongst the most fertile in the whole state of Chihuahua, Mexico. Ranch animals like horses, pigs, chickens, cows, and dogs had their run of the outside but inside the house, it was nothing but the most elegant, the most beautiful, and the most expensive.

Money was never spared to make the _Big House_ into a showplace for the family in it to keep their heads way above everyone else. The dark reddish-brown heavy furniture inside all came from Europe and the décor of woven tapestries, unique paintings, and delicate figurines only served to emphasize the exalted position the Sevillas insisted they have in society.

Life seemed like just a game for the overdressed men with their superior airs and for the carefree ladies with their hoop dresses, shiny jewelry, and silky hair on top of their heads in fancy hairstyles. The world of the upper classes was full of grandiose balls where ladies and gentlemen danced their fancy waltzes and ate aromatic foods that took days and days to prepare. An unbelievable assortment of silver platters with mounds of different kinds of meats, spices, and delicacies adorned the formal tables, the overwhelming presentation more important than the food itself. To the guests, the ostentatious display didn't affect their stomachs in the least. Food was supposed to always be at their disposal. It didn't matter who was desperately dying for it.

They didn't care that an enormous feast like the ones they held could feed the poor in town for at least a week, that the servants' empty bellies growled painfully and uncontrollably just by looking at it. _It didn't even cross their indifferent minds_. Instead, the guests acted as if it was their right to possess so much. They were entitled to whatever they wanted, not needing to thank others or even God for what they had. Why should they feel even a tiny morsel of gratitude for those who farmed the food for them, prepared it, and brought it to their tables? It was taken for granted that their every wish was our command.

We were _nobodies_ —invisible except when they needed to be served.

In the name of progress and modernization, our President Porfirio Diaz, actually a dictator, had sold my country out to the highest bidder because Mestizos and Indios no longer owned the land that had been in their families for ages but often without paperwork to prove it. Us, Mestizos with our indigenous and Spanish blood, and the full blooded Indians were dispossessed as Diaz ordered land reforms and encouraged foreigners to buy up Mexico. For anyone who tried to get out of their constraints, Diaz had brutal enforcers that did whatever he decided was necessary to stamp out rebellious acts. So my country was now in the hands of the very few—the outsiders and the wealthy with European bloodlines.

I would wonder what it would be like to live in _their_ Mexico of expensive perfumes and endless dresses instead of the hardship of _my_ Mexico. What would it be like not to have to work so hard almost since birth? Not to ever be hungry? Not to see your parents practically crawl with exhaustion at the end of each day and have so little to show for it?

But it was of no good use to have these thoughts swirling into an awful mess in my head. All it did was make me want to lash out with the sharpest words I could find. My mother had warned me many times about keeping my loose tongue in place.

"Unfortunately, you have my bull-like temper," she'd say with a mournful tone.

"I'm glad," my father interjected. "I'm very glad she's high spirited."

"I just worry that your unfiltered mouth," she told me, "will get you in trouble like it's done to me so many times."

"What's wrong with saying what you feel?"

I would soon choke on those huge words because my parents almost got fired due to my flippant attitude. I was ten years old and alone while kneading the masa for tortillas when the Sevilla daughters stepped into the kitchen—something they rarely did. They were about my age and even though we existed in the same space, we lived in completely different worlds. Their parents made certain we understood the differences. Doña Clotilde, the grand queen of the Sevilla Hacienda, and her two daughters were always dressed in the most costly outfits, helping them cement their reputation as the most beautiful and sophisticated ladies in our pueblo of Cevallos. But to me, they were as repulsive and as deliberate as vultures circling their prey.

"Hey, you," Leonor, the oldest daughter, snapped. She had never learned my name. "Get us some apples."

"They're on the table next to you," I threw out as I kept kneading.

Leonor's and Josefina's eyes widened with the surprise of how I had spoken to them and then narrowed furiously.

" _You_ get them for us!"

"I'm busy," I grunted loudly, not even looking at them.

"Listen, servant," Leonor retorted. "I gave you an order."

I have a boiling point inside me that can scorch water within seconds. "Is something wrong with your legs?" I hissed as I snapped my enraged eyes on them.

"No—"

"Is something wrong with your hands?" I retorted, burying my rabid, leveled sight into them. Confronting people with my eyes has never been a problem for me.

I waited for an answer, not taking my aggressive sight off them. Instead, their haughty stares crumbled and were replaced with naked fear. They scrambled out of the kitchen like chickens that just saw a fox.

"She's got evil eyes," Josefina garbled. "Just like _La Llorona_."

I chuckled as I kneaded the masa and thought about the famous folktale. Being compared to a frightful woman at a river didn't bother me at all. But my smile didn't last long.

The Sevilla girls went straight to their parents who immediately harangued my mother and father. The only reason they didn't lose their jobs was because my mama was the best cook in the region and my papa a valuable worker. The hacienda wouldn't be able to run as smoothly without them. I thought my parents were going to scold me that night when we got home, but what they said took me completely by surprise.

"Those spoiled, bratty children," my mama hissed. "A rat has better manners."

My father nodded. "They'll grow up to be just like their parents."

"Unfortunately, we have to live at the selfish whims of the Sevillas."

"We're sorry that we can't provide a better life for you, my daughter," my father told me, his eyes moist.

I was the one who was supposed to be regretful and not them, I thought to myself, except I wasn't sorry at all that I had pulled down those two uppity princesses.

"But there is no where else for us to go," murmured mama.

I definitely felt remorseful about my behavior then—sorry because I had almost gotten us thrown out of the hacienda when jobs were so scarce. I made a pact with myself that I would try to keep my mouth in restraints.

Chapter 9

After Valeria had left the office, Dr. O'Leary stood at her window with an odd expression on her face. She stared down at the busy passers-by going about their ordinary business. How lucky they were in not knowing what was going on in her office, Dr. O'Leary thought. How fortunate not to be burdened with such outright craziness.

Deciding that she couldn't stand it any longer, she cancelled the rest of her appointments for the day and rushed out the door. She had to search for some information and try to get the situation under some kind of control. It had to start making sense and there was one person she knew who could give her the answers she needed. At her destination, she told herself to stay calm and focused before knocking on the door. When Constance finally answered, she was ready.

"Kate!" Constance exclaimed, hugging her.

"Hi, Constance," Kate said, overwhelmed with the welcome. She still wasn't accustomed to her gregarious neighbor.

"It's been a long time since you visited me," she chided.

"I've been very busy."

"Come in. Come right in."

Kate smiled as her eyes darted around the living room. Every time she visited, she noticed the changes to Constance's house. Constance loved change. This time she had a King Arthur motif with pewter replicas of all the images that went with him. In the middle of her cocktail table sat an enormous porcelain doll of Merlin, complete with a pointy blue hat with silver stars. Constance had also transformed her appearance. Her hair was now a silky golden blonde instead of bleached white. It contrasted nicely with her light blue eyes and the long, filmy, black dress she wore.

"Would you like something to drink?" asked Constance. "I just made some green tea."

"Sure."

Constance left to the kitchen, a room that was open to the living room, and she chattered about the sunny weather. In the meantime, Kate put her thoughts in order.

"What's this visit about?" Constance asked, handing her a cup that had a picture of Guinevere in the front center.

"I need to talk to you about something," Kate said with hesitation.

"What about?"

"Reincarnation."

"Reincarnation?"

"I know that I've never been interested in it before, but now it's suddenly become important for me to know about it."

"Why has it become important?"

Kate cleared her throat. "Oh, just because. The whole questioning life thing." She hoped Constance would buy it.

Constance's eyes grew wide with excitement. "Great! And you shouldn't feel bad about having these questions, my friend. It's normal to get to a point in your life where you ask yourself what it all means."

"Yes, right."

"What do you want to know about reincarnation?"

"Do you think it really exists?"

"Yes, I'm one hundred percent sure."

"Lindsey could be out there somewhere?" Kate asked anxiously.

"Your friend is not dead."

"Can I really believe that?"

"Yes."

"But—"

"Kate, there are too many people out there who have had strange things happen to them, things they've linked to a past life."

Kate nodded in deep thought. "Yes, strange things _do_ happen."

"It's all part of Karma."

"Karma? You mean that tit for tat thing?"

"No," Constance stated as if Kate had said something especially distasteful to her. "No, not really tit for tat."

"What do you mean?"

"Things in the universe follow a motion. When you do something then something else happens. Karma is the universe balancing itself out."

"Yes, tit for tat."

Constance let out an exasperated sigh. "You're trying to make Karma out to be a revenge thing and it's not."

"It's not?"

"No."

"If I kill someone then there are no repercussions?"

"Of course there are repercussions," stated Constance.

"You are totally confusing me."

"There are repercussions because you unbalanced yourself and not because anyone is trying to _get_ you."

"What?"

"Take that cup in your hand. If you tip it over, what will happen?"

"I'll spill tea all over me."

"Yes, you would've unbalanced the cup and because of it, got wet. The air wouldn't have done it to you. The cup wouldn't have done it to you. You would've done it to yourself."

Kate was still puzzled. "Karma is interesting."

"We try to balance ourselves through various lives."

"We do?"

"Yes, that's how we learn. In fact, we reincarnate with most of the same people, so we can work out problems and balance each other."

This piece of information fascinated Kate. Had Valeria reincarnated with the same people so they could work out their past? Was Leonel in her previous life?

_How very interesting_.

Chapter 10: Valentina

Fortunately, my evil eyes had scared the Sevilla daughters so much that after the apple incident, they rarely addressed me. Still, I had to swallow bucketfuls of bitterness at the Sevilla Hacienda. And I couldn't do anything about it.

Nothing

Even at the tender age of ten, I knew what life was about—moving from one day to the next as best as you could, not dwelling on the unfairness of everything. Occasionally, you'd find a most treasured object and would forget, even for a very short time, how harsh life could be. On the day I found _the_ flower, it was one of those rare and special moments.

I stepped out of the _Big House_ on a sunny afternoon, to the back where Leonor and Josefina Sevilla played with their porcelain dolls next to Doña Clotilde's flower garden. Lucio, the owner's only son, was deeply involved in some kind of a game with Leonardo, the nephew of the hacienda foreman. After I walked past them to the chicken coups, I scattered the grain I carried in a small bucket to the waiting chickens. They greedily gobbled it up as soon as it touched the ground. I liked feeding these interesting creatures with their crazy movement and clucking noises.

After throwing the last handful of food, I started making it back to the house. I could hear the playful noises of the children I wasn't allowed to play with and ignored them. Then I noticed the bright-yellow sunflower lying on the ground, in the middle of the yard, with its stem broken. It had grown there by itself, without help from anybody, and it had obviously been trampled. As I gently picked it up, I glided my fingers over its pretty face. Even at that age, I knew mankind couldn't create anything as radiant as this luminescent flower. All human beings can do in their colossal arrogance is to fake beauty while destroying the real kind so that their version of it won't compete with God's easy gifts.

I carried the disregarded flower with me throughout the day. No one except my mother asked me about it.

"Why are you carrying that sunflower?" she asked, perplexed.

"It's like sunshine in this big, ugly house."

"Wouldn't it be better to set it aside instead of giving it a ride all over like a tic on a dog?"

"I like it with me," I answered stubbornly. "Someone has to care for it."

She sighed heavily. "You know how Doña Clotilde is. That woman would sooner kiss a pig than see a servant act unservant-like," she grumbled.

"Why would she care about my flower?" I asked innocently, my ten-year-old mind not yet being able to understand certain things about human beings and their veracious need for power.

"To her, flowers are only for _them_ and not us."

"But they really don't care about flowers! They step on them with their big, stinky feet," I guffawed. I was sure whoever had crushed it had been a Sevilla. Hardly anyone was allowed in the back yard of the house.

"What?"

"Someone trampled the sunflower."

She shook her head. "How clumsy to step on something so pretty—like a hog in a garden."

I shrugged my shoulders. "Maybe it wasn't very pretty to that person. Ugly people see ugly things even when they're beautiful," I assured in my little girl's voice.

My mother nodded with disgust. "What some people consider valuable, others throw away as if they and only they know the difference between what's good and what's trash."

Chapter 11: Valentina

The first time I saw them strewn carelessly on the dirt I thought what a tragedy for someone to have dropped their flowers. I left them where they were, certain that someone would be back for these precious treasures. But lilacs, sunflowers, gardenias and many other flowers kept appearing in my pathways. Beautiful pinks, purples, blues, and reds painted the ground.

_Who's doing this?_ I wondered. _Who's leaving them?_

It was impossible to tell exactly where the flowers came from since all kinds, wild ones and other types, grew throughout the hacienda. I was sure, though, that the one place they didn't come from was Doña Clotilde's garden where only the most particular of flowers were grown. I didn't care much for those prissy things but loved all other plants and couldn't stop questions from turning over and over in my head. Who was leaving them for me? Was it someone who had seen me pick up the sunflower that sunny afternoon with so much care? Was it someone who had seen me carry it throughout the day? Why would anyone leave flowers for me?

I impatiently waited for someone to come forward as whole weeks went by or for me to catch the mischievous person in the act but nothing happened. I kept receiving the flowers without even a tiny hint of who was leaving them for me. My frustration became worse until I decided to enjoy them instead of going crazy with their mystery.

I was taking a huge whiff of their powerful fragrance at the refreshing river where I often went because of the lush trees lining the area and the calm sound of flowing water. It was my eleventh birthday, and I was at my favorite place in the whole world. A sudden rain shower had hit earlier in the day making the ground slushy with mud, but I wasn't paying attention because in knowing the place so well, I felt I didn't need to be conscious of where I was stepping. When my feet abruptly slid forward, I quickly pushed aside the surprise and tried to grab at anything for balance. The tree branch I managed to desperately grasp broke, sending me straight into a raging river. It had rained more than in other years so the harsh water turned violent while trying to overflow out of its home.

Everything happened so fast that it all became a confusing blur with so many things happening at the same time . . . The rushing water swept me up—its icy coldness sharply needling my skin. . . I bounced all over, not able to grab onto anything to steady me . . . I kept trying to breathe as my head bopped in and out of the dangerous water . . . I screamed for help while telling myself that I refused to drown.

I refuse to die.

It seemed like forever when it was probably seconds, but suddenly I don't know how I managed to get to the river's edge where a figure appeared—Lucio was ready to pull me out! I can still see his outstretched hands reaching for me, and I grabbed them with every thread of strength I had. His twelve-year-old arms enveloped my trembling body as soon as I was out of the treacherous water.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concern on his face.

"I'm fine," I declared, pushing the shakiness in my voice down to as low as it would go.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

He walked with me all the way home. My mother's face grew wet with trailing tears when I told her the story. She wrapped me with one of the few threadbare towels we owned. Her own body gave me more warmth than the ragged cloth as she held me tightly.

"I'm fine," I insisted.

She kept thanking Lucio who asserted that he had done what anyone else would've done. He was just glad to have been at the right place and at the right time.

"God forbid that she would've drowned," he stated.

"Yes, God forbid," my mama agreed, her voice cracking.

"But I didn't drown," I affirmed. "I'm still here."

Chapter 12: Valentina

Even though he had saved my life, Lucio and I didn't talk very much during the next few years. His parents didn't like to see their kids conversing with servants. The only person below his class he was allowed with was Leonardo, and it was only because Lucio was the Sevillas' only male child and permitted a playmate. Leonardo, though, was never allowed to take meals with Lucio or share very much with him.

It was at his fifteenth birthday that Lucio threw such a fit over the inequality of him and his friend that even those of us a few rooms away were able to hear him clearly. Normally, he was very respectful of those around him and the apple of his parents' eyes but that day he seemed to have lost his easy nature.

"Isn't the party _my_ birthday party?!" Lucio asked angrily.

"Yes, of course," Doña Clotilde answered.

"I don't see why Leonardo can't come!"

"My son, don't get so upset," Doña Clotilde tried to soothe him. "It wouldn't be right to invite the _capataz's_ nephew. It's just not done."

"But he's my friend."

"He's not your friend," snapped Don Clemencio. "He keeps you company and that's it. Your friends should be of your own class."

"But—"

"Lucio, you're trying my patience," growled Don Clemencio.

"My son, what will people say if we have someone like him at the party? Besides, I doubt if he'd enjoy himself. He wouldn't know how to act."

"Mama, he's not an animal," Lucio declared, frowning deeply.

"He's better off with his own kind," Doña Clotilde asserted.

"But—"

"Lucio, that boy isn't coming to your party and that's that," snarled Don Clemencio. "I don't want to hear anything more about it."

The fiesta was attended by the most prestigious families of Cevallos, including the mayor himself. Despising these ostentatious gatherings where we were treated as if less than nothing, I was relieved when I finished the extra work we weren't paid for, and I stepped out of the back door of the _Big House_ to head for home. Promptly colliding with someone sitting on the ground, I stumbled up angrily.

"Sorry," rushed the male voice of the person I had almost fallen on.

"What's wrong with you?!—sitting in the dark where someone can break their neck tripping over you!"

"I—"

"Lucio!" I exclaimed with surprise as I realized who he was when I shone my petroleum lamp on him.

"I didn't mean to startle you or break your neck," he stated. His handsome young face formed into a playful imp and his dark eyes sparkled with their very own glint.

More than one girl had a crush on this effervescent boy. Of the three Sevilla children, he was every servant's favorite. He always greeted instead of just growling orders, and he used his good manners even with the most downtrodden of workers.

"I'm so sorry," he expressed.

I, however, wasn't done with scolding him. "This is no place for you. Shouldn't you be at your party?"

"I got bored," he stated, his dark brown eyes and hair glistening in the moonlight.

"You got bored with your own party?"

He nodded solemnly.

"But you love parties," I asserted. Since he was a small child, he had always loved being around people and hated being by himself.

Lucio shrugged his shoulders. "The moon is beautiful tonight. I thought I'd enjoy it."

"Oh," I shrugged, exhaustion overwhelming me. Sevilla parties always fatigued the servants so much that it often took days to recover. "Well, have a great time gazing at the moon and good night," I threw out as I started moving away, carrying the petroleum lamp for light. The gentle wicker through the glass didn't give an enormous amount of light with the darkness covering the hacienda, but it helped.

"Can I walk with you?" Lucio asked, catching up to me, his lips stretching in that quick smile he had.

"You want to walk with me?" I questioned, so surprised that I abruptly stopped moving forward.

"Where are you going?"

"Home."

"I'll walk with you."

"Why?" I blurted.

"I just want to walk with you."

"Don't you want to do some more moon gazing?"

"I'd rather talk to you."

"But we'll get in trouble," I declared. I was still grateful that he had saved my life at the river, but I had to protect my parents.

"No one will know."

"But someone will notice that you're not at your party."

"They haven't noticed so far . . . C'mon, you scared of me?" he teased, his playful personality coming back.

"Of course I'm not scared of you."

"Let's go then," he said as he started walking.

"You'd better not get me in trouble," I grumbled, following his lead. "I get myself in trouble fine by myself."

"I won't get you in trouble."

We walked on the dirt trail leading to the workers' shacks, past a few of the many trees on the hacienda. They cast dark shadows in the darkness of the night but were still placid and beautiful rather than twisted and haunting. The sounds of animals—farm ones and other kinds filled the emptiness of the air and even though I felt comfort in the stillness, Lucio couldn't stand the quiet and started chattering.

"You'll see, I'm not such bad company," he asserted. "Besides, it's too dark for you to go home by yourself. You could trip over something."

"I already tripped today," I reminded him wryly.

"I didn't mean me."

"What do you mean then?"

"Your house is far."

"I know the road very well. What would I trip over?"

"Maybe an animal or even a flower," he chuckled.

"A flower?"

"My mother tripped over a big sunflower once and angrily stamped on it. You picked it up, remember?"

"Yes, I remember," I stated.

"I wouldn't want you to fall over anything and hurt yourself."

"I'm not going to trip," I asserted.

"Didn't you trip over something that time you almost drowned in the river?"

I shook my head. "I slipped on mud," I informed.

"That's almost like tripping," he assured, grinning. "Tripping on mud."

"It's nothing like tripping," I disagreed.

"Then what is it like?"

I laughed lightly. "What do you think the difference is between stepping on a banana peel and bumping into a sack of beans?"

He chuckled loudly. "Okay, okay, Violeta. You win."

"My name isn't Violeta," I corrected. "It's Valentina."

"Sorry, Valentina but you're more of a Violeta than a Valentina."

"Why do you say that?"

"You should be named after a flower."

"A flower?" I asked in a pensive tone.

"You're as pretty as one."

It was good that the darkness covered the red flush that had spread over my face. It wasn't often I blushed, but his words had embarrassed me.

"Thank you," I uttered, not sure whether to believe that someone like him, trained to see European as superior, could consider me pretty. With sienna skin, black eyes, and wild raven hair, I was opposite from what the upper classes considered beautiful. He was probably just being kind.

We were quiet for a few steps. I could tell that he was in deep thought, or he would've continued to chatter.

"Valentina," he finally said, taking care to enunciate every syllable, "I like that you can keep secrets. That's why I can talk to you."

"How do you know I can keep secrets?"

"I just do."

"Are you going to tell me a secret?" I asked, wondering with gnawing curiosity if the mystery behind my flowers would finally be solved.

He smiled. "Sometimes it's best to keep things to yourself, don't you think?"

"It depends on what it is."

"Sometimes what's in the heart can't be explained with words."

"In the heart?"

"Valentina, do you ever hate the life you were given?" he blurted.

"What do you mean?"

"What if you had so much and others had so little?"

"You think about that?"

"I think about a lot of things . . . What if you weren't allowed to be friends with who you wanted? What if you couldn't be with the people you liked? What if everything was about money and prestige?"

"You hate being rich?"

"There's a lot I hate about it," he mumbled as I stopped in front of my house—one of the old, adobe, decrepit houses Don Clemencio had on his hacienda for his _peones_. It kept us always at his disposal, so he had employees twenty-four hours a day at his beck and call. Of course, these houses were at a great distance from his own grandiose home. Lucio eyed the crumbling shack with a deep sadness in his stare. "A lot."

"Are you sure you're just not feeling sentimental on your birthday?" I asked suspiciously.

"Why would you say that?"

"I don't know of a lot of rich people who feel bad about the poor," I blurted.

"I'm different," he assured, his eyes serious.

"A rooster and a hen are different, but they're still chickens."

"I'm not a chicken," he stated.

"All right."

His eyes swept over me. "I'm not like my parents."

"All right."

"Valentina, please believe me. Please."

"I'll try."

"Thank you," he said. "I'd better get back to my party."

"That's a good idea."

"Goodnight," he said, starting to step away from me.

I put a hand on the door to push it open. "Good night."

"Maybe we can talk again soon."

"Maybe."

He looked at me very intently. "I hope so."

I couldn't help but smiling at him before stepping in the doorway.

Chapter 13: Valentina

To Leonor and Josefina's deep consternation I had been the one who had helped dress them before they left on their visit with Analisa Herdez Penalver. Since I was the only female servant in the _Big House_ at the moment, they had little choice but to put up with my _evil_ eyes. Their own eyes darted nervously all over their bedrooms like spiders trying to get away from an attacking shoe.

As Leonor and Josefina Sevilla stepped onto the open carriage, I handed them their parasols so they could protect their light skin from the sun. Their class was obsessed with looking European and that meant staying away from dark coloring like mine. They believed that brown skin belonged to the savages of the land and not the _civilized_ aristocrats. According to them, the less indigenous blood running through the veins, the more superior human beings were. Once the carriage disappeared in the distance, I turned around to return to the _Big House_. I didn't expect to come face to face with Lucio who had stepped behind me so quietly that I hadn't heard him.

"Hi," he said, smiling that easy smile of his.

"Good morning," I returned, trying to get my bearings back with the surprise of suddenly seeing him.

He bent down and in one swoop, picked the brightest purple flower growing in a small batch on the ground. He stood up and handed it to me with a grin. "This is for you."

I stared at his hand without making any movement towards the violet. "For me?"

"Take it, please," he said.

"Why would you be giving me flowers?"

"Why can't you just take it?"

"Lucio, you can't be giving me things. It isn't allowed."

"Who says?"

"Your parents," I stated, frowning.

"But—"

"I've got to get back in the house to finish my work," I mumbled as I swiftly turned around without taking the flower.

"Valentina—"

"Good bye," I uttered as I rushed to the door.

Once inside, I took deep breaths in and out. It was a good thing no one paid attention to me because it was a while before I could normalize my basic functions. I hated being so fluttery and jittery, but it seemed I had finally solved the mystery behind the flowers in my paths.

The next time I found flowers on my way home, I left them on the ground.

The next day while serving the tender chicken in special chipotle sauce I had helped my mother make, I took extra care not to look at Lucio. I didn't glance at him even once, but I could feel his eyes on me. I nervously tried to concentrate on what I was doing. The whole family was seated at the long, dark, reddish-brown dining table for dinner. It would be unfathomable but not a bad fantasy for me to spill anything on them.

"The Orozcos have invited us to their hacienda. I think we should go," announced Don Clemencio.

Doña Clotilde fervently shook her head. "I don't want to associate with those people."

"But Clotilde," Don Clemencio said, exasperated, "What's wrong with them?"

"They're new money."

"Yes, but they've got lots of it. It's always good to keep the door open to those with money. It's good business."

"I hear things," explained Doña Clotilde.

"Like what?"

"That Mrs. Orozco's mother is a full blooded Taruhmara."

"An Indian?" asked Don Clemencio with distaste.

"Yes."

"They keep it well hidden."

"I would think so."

As I poured Don Clemencio his coffee, Lucio's eyes kept steadily on me, and I grimaced.

"Children," Doña Clotilde stated, "I'm going to tell you again. I don't want you to associate with the Orozco children."

"We don't, Mama," Josefina assured.

"I don't see what would be wrong with it," Lucio interjected.

"Son," Don Clemencio stated with frustration, "why do you always fight us on matters of propriety?"

"I just don't see why we have to have social classes."

"We have to have them, my son," Doña Clotilde explained, "or how would we keep things civilized?"

"Civilized?"

"Yes, civilized," declared Don Clemencio. "We have to keep a tight control of this land or the savages will take over."

"Savages? But—"

"Lucio, that's enough," chastised Don Clemencio.

"My son, you have to live up to your heritage," announced Doña Clotilde. "Don't forget you are a Sevilla Landa. Your bloodlines are pure from both sides of the family—from the Sevilla one and mine, the Landa, too. They go back to the best families in Madrid."

"Why is that important?" Lucio questioned.

"Why can't you be proud of who you are?" Don Clemencio blurted gruffly.

"I just don't see why I should be proud of something I was born with and didn't earn."

"That's enough," demanded a furious Don Clemencio.

"Stop upsetting your father," Doña Clotilde expressed. "Let's have dinner in peace."

Chapter 14: Valentina

Leonor and Josefina had many friends, many young girls who would visit. Anyone would think that they were popular but the truth was that it was their brother who was the sought after one. The giggly friends lost their breaths when they were close to Lucio, their eyelashes fluttering and eyes shining on him.

_What a life_ , I would think. _To have nothing better to do than to try to capture a boy's attention._

Lucio would politely talk to these girls for very short periods and then leave outside with his childhood companion Leonardo. The girls would be left with deep scowls on their faces while the Sevilla sisters would be scorning them for the change in their friends' attitudes. Leonor and Josefina didn't like playing second fiddle to their brother.

"I don't think any of those silly girls has won the young Lucio's heart," my mother would say.

"I would hope not. They strut around like peacocks."

"He's got some time to decide who he wants to marry."

"Maybe it won't be a society girl."

"It has to be one," my mother insisted. "His parents would never allow otherwise. They'd sooner eat mud and live with pigs than have a daughter-in-law not of their class."

"But he doesn't seem to be interested in any of them," I commented.

"He'll have to pick one of them someday."

The girls continued coming with their best dresses and adoring stares, and Lucio kept ignoring them. Lucio's sisters finally angrily confronted him.

"Don't you like any of our friends?" asked Leonor.

"No," Lucio answered simply as he gave me a quick glance while I was dusting the furniture in the living room area where all of us were at.

"Why not?" Josefina asked defensively.

"They talk too much."

"What?" blurted Leonor. "What are you saying?"

"Those girls talk and talk about nothing."

"What do you mean they talk about nothing?" asked Leonor. "We talk about everything."

"You talk about _nothing_ important."

"Lucio—"

"Leave your brother alone," interjected Don Clemencio with a chuckle as he stepped into the room. "He's got many refined young ladies to choose from."

"But, Papa, he should choose among our friends."

"There are too many girls of good lineage around for him to limit himself. Even the mayor's daughter is interested in him, " Don Clemencio announced proudly. "Son, you take your time in choosing."

Chapter 15: Valentina

"Why do you ignore me?" asked Lucio one day when I was in the dairy milking one of the cows. It was the day after his sixteenth birthday.

"Excuse me?" I said, startled by his sudden presence.

"You ignore me."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, my hands still on the cow's teats but not pulling the milk away from them. "I don't ignore you."

"You do."

"I don't."

"You don't give me your full attention, Valentina," he stated, sulking.

"You get attention from everyone around you. You don't need it from me."

"But I want it from you."

"I've got work to do. You don't expect me to neglect the cow, do you? Poor cow."

"I could help you."

I fervently shook my head. "No."

"Why not?"

"Are you crazy? What would your parents say? Their high class heads would explode if they saw you doing farm work," I stated as I went back to milking Matilde.

"My parents," he frowned.

"Yes, your parents," I stated strongly.

"I don't care about what they think, but I care about what you think."

"What?" I asked, stopping the milking to turn to him.

"And I'm tired of making myself stay away from you."

"Making yourself stay away from me?"

He looked intently at me. "You do _like_ me, don't you?"

"Lucio," I said, frowning. "We shouldn't be having this conversation."

"It's about time we did."

"The cow's milk is going to turn sour with all this silliness."

He ignored me, his eyes sitting firmly on mine. "You _like_ me, right?"

"I have to like you," I answered, exasperated. "You saved my life, didn't you?"

"You don't owe me anything," Lucio stated.

"Yes, I do."

"No, you don't," he insisted. "And forget about the river. If you like me then you've got to like me for me—not for anything I did."

"I guess I do like you," I said with clumsy hesitation.

"You do?" he asked, pleased.

"Maybe."

"Tina," he said as a shout was heard from the outside and at a distance. His father's voice bellowed Lucio's name. "I—"

"You'd better go to your father."

"But—"

"Just go."

He solemnly nodded. "I'll see you later, Tina," he threw out as he headed outside.

As soon as the dairy door shut, I stared after him, unable to get back to work. When Matilde mooed, I finally snapped out of my stupor. Had he really said he was tired of staying away from me? And I didn't even mind that he had shortened my name to Tina. It sounded like a pretty song in his mouth. He made me feel attractive, even with my simple cotton long skirt and white blouse. Having been a very skinny child, I was still trying to get used to the recent and sudden development of my body into a woman's figure with ample bosoms, voluptuous hips, and a waist that cinched in. The girl in me was moving quickly into womanhood—in more ways than one.

Chapter 16: Valentina

This game that Lucio and I played with the flowers and him popping out of nowhere to talk to me went on without me trying to stop it anymore. We never talked about the gifts he left me on the ground, the secrets of our friendship locked deep inside of us. Even though I started picking up the flowers again, I made sure no one saw me do it. If his parents had known about us, they would've been inconsolable and so would've mine for that matter. The different classes just didn't mix.

Ever since the conquistadores had arrived on these lands, they brought their evil ideas of superiority with them. Of course, they also created a new people—Mestizos when they _took_ the indigenous woman. And nothing was ever the same with their destructive attitudes and wicked words permeating the air!

Dirty place.

Dirty savages.

Dirty blood.

Stained land and people.

Even when we had won independence from Spain, these evil ideas of our inferiority lingered and sucked out our humanity like slimy parasites sucking blood from vulnerable skin. The idea of European superiority reigned with Porfirio Diaz pouring white powder on his face to look lighter and the lines of social classes being clearly marked. Hierarchy. European born people were supposedly the most superior. People of European parents but born in Mexico were said to be inferior, _manchados de la tierra._ They were considered to be soiled by the land even though they were still exalted as better than the natives. God forbid any person be tainted with any indigenous blood!

Sangre Sucia.

This idea made my own blood boil! How can a person have dirty blood because of who they were? Why was the blood of the Europeans pure and sanctified by God only because of who they were? There were even certain priests who believed and participated in this colossal lie.

I would try to forget that Lucio was part of an evil world, but I was often reminded of our differences.

"He's rich and you're poor," Leonardo, Lucio's childhood companion, told me as I stared after Lucio who was riding his horse in the corral.

"What?" I asked, taken by surprise.

"You _like_ him," he said with distaste, the hard angles of his face becoming harsher.

"What are you talking about?"

"He's _rich_ and you're _poo_ r. Can't you see that you'll never be good enough for his family? Wake up!"

I stared at him open mouthed, not used to him speaking. A morose Leonardo rarely said a word. As the nephew of Mr. Velasquez, a cruel man who thought himself way above the rest of us campesinos just because he managed the hacienda and kissed up to the owner, Leonardo was part of an arrogant family. Even though neither he nor any Velasquez was allowed on the same level as the aristocrats, they still acted as if the world should be at their feet—Leonardo with his grumpy silences and tactless words and his cousins with their sneering snipes.

"I don't _like_ Lucio," I snapped, finding my words.

"You stare at him like a pig seeing its first slop of the day."

"I don't!"

"You do," he stated, the dark-brown of his hair and eyes seemed to be getting darker. "It's disgusting."

"I _like_ horses," I insisted.

"But—"

"You don't know anything about me," I blurted angrily.

"I wasn't trying to—"

"Bye," I threw out as I rushed away. I didn't need an uppity servant who was only a few notches above me on the food chain to fling insults in my face. He might've been related to the _capataz,_ but he was still a servant like me—no matter how high and mighty his family and he thought they were.

Chapter 17: Valentina

I don't know what is about my birthdays but ever since I survived being born on a scorching, miserable day, my days of birth have always been eventful. Something _always_ happens. Maybe because I expect it or maybe it's an act of the heavens. I don't know. But my fifteenth birthday proved to be no different even if the day started calm and seemingly ordinary.

I went to work at the hacienda as I usually did, cleaning up after Leonor and Josefina. Their fear of my _evil_ eyes was still evident after all these years as they pretended I didn't exist. Completely ignored, I swept their palace-like rooms while they gossiped about who was doing what. I tried to tune them out but found it impossible to shut out their loud observations.

"Claudio Bernal had already declared his love for Analisa," Leonor scoffed as she lay on a four-poster bed, the darkness of the reddish wood contrasting with the shiny tones of the pink silk cover.

"Analisa will be stupid to hold him to it," stated Josefina from the vanity table that matched the wood of the bed, where she sat on an ornate chair in front of a mirror and stared at herself. "Am I getting darker?" she questioned, concerned.

Josefina had been born with a slightly darker skin tone than Leonor, who was very fair. Asking that question at least once a week, Josefina frustrated her sister.

Leonor rolled her eyes. "No!"

"Are you sure? I think I look darker."

"Josefina," Leonor said, exasperated, "you look the same. Stop asking me! I'm tired of your wild imagination."

"I'm just trying to stay pretty," Josefina stated, hurt.

"Analisa needs to come to terms with her situation," Leonor declared, going back to the previous conversation and ignoring her pouting sister.

"Claudio can't be expected to still love her."

"He's not going to marry her."

"Of course not."

"He told her he loved her before he knew . . ."

"Before he knew her predicament," chortled Josefina.

"Honestly, how can Analisa expect him to want her now?"

"All her family has left is their good name."

Leonor nodded vehemently. "I hear that they are in complete ruins. After Analisa's father gambled away the family fortune, nothing is left."

"Not even a dowry for Analisa."

"It must be horrible to be on everybody's tongue," stated Leonor.

"Everybody knows about them. How humiliating."

Josefina shook her head. "Analisa will never be able to live it down."

"Or make a good match for a marriage. They say that Federico Ramos is going to ask for her hand in marriage."

"He's our father's age," Leonor blurted, horrified.

"But he's very wealthy and is willing to take her without a dowry," stated Josefina.

"Still—ugh!"

"He'll save the family from ruin."

Leonor shook her head. "I guess Analisa is lucky he's stepping in, but I'm glad our father isn't a gambler."

"Nothing like that will ever happen to us," affirmed Leonor.

Having finally finished my housework, I swiftly stepped out of the bedroom. Their frivolous conversation still pounded in my ears. While people like me worried about having enough to eat, money for doctors, and a life around the selfish needs of people like them, they filled their unoccupied minds and hearts with: _Who's saying what? Is what we own the best there is? Does everyone know how important we are?_

I shook my head as I made it to the outside, relieved to be in the company of animals. They might've needed care, but they always seemed to appreciate it. I went towards the stables and could see from an open door that Lucio's dour childhood mate, Leonardo, was feeding the horses. After the conversation when he had thrown in my face that someone like me didn't belong with a person of Lucio's class, I tried to avoid any exchange of words with him, but my parents had taught me manners.

"Good morning," I called out, expecting the solemn nod he usually gave people instead of verbally returning the greeting.

"What's good about it?" he muttered.

I kept walking towards my destination, deciding not to let him or anyone else ruin my birthday. At the pig pen, a very remote area covered with leafy trees behind the horse stables, my tired hands sat the bucketful of slop on the ground that my mother had handed to me before I stepped out of the _Big House_.

The three medium-sized pinkish-toned pigs ambled quickly towards me once they saw me coming and grunted their joy. They knew I was the one who fed them, and they recognized me from a distance. As I started unloading the food from the outside of the pen onto their trough, the pigs squealed with frenzied sounds. I glanced over at the emptiness of the huge pen. Don Clemencio had just sold the rest of the pigs—all twenty of them and only left three so they could reproduce. With the exception of his family and maybe not even them, everything and everybody on the hacienda was expendable. We added up to nothing but _pesos_ and cents to him, that's all.

"Hi, Tina," a voice behind me said.

I didn't need to turn around to know who it belonged to. "Hi," I returned, smiling.

"I've been looking for you," Lucio informed me, standing so close that I could smell the scent of the strong soap he bathed with.

I took a small step away, not being able to handle being so close to him. "What can I do for you?"

He put his hand in the pocket of his trousers and took out a small box. "Happy birthday, Tina."

I stared at the pretty box not knowing what to say as he handed it to me. Seeing that I wasn't responding, he took my right hand, his touch filling me with a tingling sensation I had never felt before, and placed the box on my palm. I was still trying to recover from his fingers touching mine, the exact feel of his skin and the tingles bubbling out of me, when he cleared his throat. He also seemed to be trying to find his own balance.

"Aren't you going to open it?" he asked eagerly.

I quickly looked around, making sure that even though we were well hidden by the trees and the stable, no one was lurking anywhere. Satisfied, I opened the box. My fingers slowly pulled out a golden necklace until a delicate, shimmering heart-shaped pendant dangled from it. The sun's heated rays caught every facet of light from the pure gold in the piece. I had never owned such a valuable object.

"Do you like it?" Lucio asked anxiously.

I finally found the words in a mouth dry with surprise. "Who wouldn't like something like this? But I can't accept it."

"Why?" he asked, flabbergasted.

"Why?! Lucio, you're better off giving this necklace to the pigs. Your parents would prefer it."

"I already told you, Tina, I don't care what my parents think."

"How much did the necklace cost?" I asked.

"It doesn't matter," he stated, frustrated.

"But—"

"It. Doesn't. Matter," he emphasized.

"Why do you want to give me something so valuable?"

He frowned deeply. "It isn't valuable," he insisted. "It's a thing but I want you to have it because it represents my heart and I'm giving it to you."

"Lucio," I blurted with surprise.

But he didn't say any more as he brought his mouth to mine. His fleshy lips gently taught me to respond to him as I received my first kiss. And I melted into the moment, keeping my worries at bay, keeping his nearness close to me, keeping my hands tightly wrapped around the golden heart he had just given me. I could feel my breathing catch itself in uneven strokes.

When we finally pulled away from each other, I put my hand, the one wrapped around the pendant, to my throat. The hot metal of the heart from the heat of my palm burned me, but I refused to let it go.

"I hope it's clear to you how much I love you, Tina," he announced, his words sure of themselves, demanding an immediate response back.

"This is impossible," I declared.

He shook his head with frustration. "Don't say that."

"Lucio, our love for each other can't survive."

"So you do love me," he blurted, his familiar playful grin back on his lips.

"Lucio, that's not the point."

"Of course it is," he stated, chuckling. "You love me—tell me again! Tell me, tell me, tell me!"

"Lucio," I chided, my eyes nervously darting around us but it was just us and the pigs. They were still busy with eating their slop.

"I'm so happy, Tina."

"Lucio come into reality," I demanded.

He took my face in his gentle hands as his dark eyes went deep into mine. "Reality? The only reality that's important is that I love you, and you love me."

"But what can we do with this love?" I asked, rolling my eyes. "Where can it go?"

"It'll go where we want it to go."

"Lucio, we're dreaming."

"Then let's not wake up."

"But—"

"We'll stay in our dreams."

"I really don't see how this is going to work."

"We'll figure it out, Tina," he declared with his playful grin in place. "What we have inside of us is stronger than whatever is against us on the outside."

Chapter 18: Valentina

I wore the heart necklace underneath my blouses where no one would be able to see it. We hid our secrets well, those quiet talks with each other, those meaningful glances, those stolen kisses. Even when the flowers stopped coming—because I imagined Lucio would've wanted to make sure we weren't found out—still I knew two people suspected us.

One was his grouchy childhood mate, Leonardo. His stony silences and awkward presence unnerved me. He was nearly impossible to ignore even when he rarely spoke. Skulking around and always scowling, he stood out wherever he was at.

"How can you stand him?" I had once asked Lucio.

Lucio kissed my cheek. "You're too hard on poor Leonardo."

"I don't think so."

"You are."

"I just don't understand how you can get along with him. Your personality is the opposite of his. You're light and he's a shadow." While they had exactly the same coloring, dark eyes and dark hair, Leonardo seemed much darker somehow.

"He's different when you get to know him," Lucio stated.

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. "He is?"

"He's very loyal and very kind."

"Kind?" I asked, trying not to trip on Lucio's word for Leonardo.

"Yes, he's got a big heart."

"Really?" I asked, still having trouble believing Lucio. "Because it sure doesn't seem like it. Honestly, starving hogs are a lot less obnoxious than him."

Lucio chuckled. "I know he can be a little abrasive."

"A little abrasive? No, he can be much worse than that."

"There's a reason for his rough personality."

"There is?"

"He's had a sad life."

I remembered once hearing that Leonardo's parents had died in a freak hay riding accident. The horse saw a snake and went crazy, and Leonardo was left with his uncle. "Having your parents die when you're so young must be one of the cruelest turns of fate."

Lucio nodded solemnly. "I can't even imagine what that's like—to be left by yourself without your parents and without brothers and sisters."

"An orphan," I murmured, the words catching in my throat.

"You know, his uncle really didn't want to take him in."

"He didn't?" I asked, surprised. This was the first I had heard of it.

"Father Mateo threatened to excommunicate Mr. Velasquez if he didn't."

"I didn't know. Leonardo never talks about himself."

"He doesn't like to talk."

"He's very strange," I stated.

"You just don't know him."

It was true. I didn't and I didn't want to get to know him. He was too odd for my liking—wearing the impenetrable mask every day and barely saying two words to anybody. But Lucio must've been right about his loyalty because even when I was sure he knew about us, being Lucio's best buddy, he didn't give away our secret.

The other person who suspected about us was my own mother. Very little escaped her watchful eyes, and I caught her eyeing Lucio and then me a few times. She finally broke down and spoke to me about it one evening at home when my father was still at work.

"I don't like the way Lucio looks at you," she told me, her hands on her hips. "Like a coyote ogles a chicken."

"What?" I asked nervously.

"You look at him too," she chided. "Something is very wrong."

"Mama—"

"Something is very, _very_ _wrong_ **,** and I'm not just talking about a few horses wandering outside the corral."

"But Mama—"

"Stop," she demanded, putting her hand up. "Don't say anything because I'm sure you're about to lie to me. Lie! Just listen to your mother."

"What do you want tell me?" I said softly, relieved that I didn't have to make anything up. I didn't like disrespecting my parents that way.

She took in a few breaths and gathered her thoughts as I braced myself. "This thing that he feels for you," she continued, her voice shaky and upset, "and that you feel for him can't work. It can't!"

"Mama—"

"Listen, Valentina. Listen to me! I don't have to tell you what's against you. You already know you'll never be accepted by his family or his class."

"Are you saying that I'll never be good enough for him?"

"I'm not saying that," she stated strongly.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that he'll never be good enough for you," my mother announced. "He comes from a different world and he'll never understand you—not really. You may not know this about yourself yet, but one day you'll see the importance of not just feelings but of someone reaching inside of you, of someone knowing you."

That was all my mother said to me, those haunting words I couldn't comprehend. What did she mean about Lucio not knowing me? Of course he knew who I was. We belonged to different worlds, but our hearts belonged to one, didn't they? But everything I knew was about to be turned upside down. The dream I was living in, the happy illusion, was about to implode. My sixteenth year was fast approaching when everything would change.

Everything.

### Chapter 19

Before waking Valeria up, Dr. O'Leary decided on a strategy to keep Valeria from questioning why she couldn't recall anything from the past few sessions. Dr. O'Leary had her go over her near drowning in this lifetime in vivid detail so that she could have a conscious recollection of some kind. Dr. O'Leary still wasn't prepared to tell her about the other memories coming up until she could find a logical explanation for what seemed to be a movie running in her patient's mind.

"That near drowning really did me in," Valeria said. "Those details were excruciating."

"No wonder you blocked them out."

"I realize why I couldn't remember them."

"The mind can be very protective of its owner."

"I'm going to talk to my mother about the details."

"That's a good idea," stated Dr. O'Leary.

As soon as Valeria stepped out to the waiting room to make her next appointment, Dr. O'Leary slumped down in her chair. Was she doing the right thing in not telling Valeria yet? Was she justifying why she wouldn't? Was she really doing it for Valeria or was she doing it for herself so that no one would find out and call her a quack. It was all so confusing. _Time, I need time on this one,_ she told herself.

That evening Kate and Enzo sat up in bed reading books. He was the one actually reading while she tried to keep her fractured concentration on the novel about spies in foreign and mystical lands. After her fantastical afternoon, it was hard keeping her focus on a book with a fiction that dimmed by comparison to what was happening in real life.

She couldn't help certain thoughts from creeping into her head in what should've been her leisure time. How could reincarnation really exist? Even with Valentina's story full of description, how could it possibly be true?

But . . .

But Valeria's memories seemed so real. And if there was such a thing as reincarnation then it would mean that Lindsey was still out there.

Somewhere.

She would see her best friend again.

Chapter 20: Valentina

After taking my picture a few days before my birthday, my parents and I stood outside the photographer's store in town. It was an emotional time. I'd have the first picture of myself! Only because my parents were good friends with the picture taker were we able to afford it. Otherwise, there wasn't any way we could pay for such an extravagant thing.

People walked on the dusty road in front of us, some going to the small white, stucco church just a short distance from where we were and others on their way to their homes or other places. Majestic homes lined the streets not too far from where the busy stores bustled with business, and carriages and horses littered the pathways.

"Sometimes, I think back on when you almost drowned . . ." my mother said with a broken voice as tears bubbled in her eyes.

I patted her back. "But nothing happened to me."

"Thank goodness for Leonardo," my father declared.

"You mean Lucio," I corrected him. "Lucio saved my life."

"Your mother told me it was Leonardo who did it," my father said, puzzled.

"It was," affirmed my mother.

"What?" I asked.

"Leonardo saved your life."

I shook my head. "Mama, you're remembering it wrong. It was Lucio who pulled me out of the water and not Leonardo."

"Is that all you remember?" my mother asked, her voice slightly chastising.

"What do you mean? Lucio pulled me out of the water and took me home."

You don't remember Leonardo jumping into the water?"

"That didn't happen," I insisted.

"Leonardo jumped in the water and held you up so Lucio could pull you out. How do you not remember that?"

"That couldn't have happened," I blurted, staying firm.

"It could've and it did," my mother declared.

"I was there. I should know how it happened. Who could've told you such a twisted lie?"

"Leonardo," my father said matter-of-factly.

My eyebrows knit together. "Leonardo?"

"After Lucio brought you home and I made you take a nap to calm you, Leonardo visited. He wanted to know how you were doing after the accident."

"How did he find out about what happened?"

My mother shook her head in exasperation. "I already told you that he was the one who jumped in the water and held you up."

"But—"

"He didn't tell me about it—not at first. You know how quiet that boy is, but I noticed a gash on his arm and that his clothes were wet. When I asked him about it, he said it was nothing, but then I figured it out. How do you think you made it to the side of the river?"

"I don't know—maybe luck?" I announced.

"No, it wasn't luck," my mother proclaimed.

"It was la Virgen de Guadalupe."

My mother nodded. "The _virgin_ definitely sent Leonardo to you."

"That river is very treacherous when it's full of water," my father affirmed, his voice shaky. "I don't want to even imagine what would've happened to you if Leonardo hadn't been around."

"I practically had to force him to tell me what had happened," my mother asserted. "He and Lucio heard you screaming, and he jumped in the water. He cut himself on a jagged rock but managed to get you to where Lucio was. While Lucio pulled you out, he got himself out of the river. You don't remember this?"

"No," I mumbled, still trying to comprehend the story.

"I know we've never talked about it because I don't like to relive bad moments," my mother explained, "but I always assumed you knew who had really saved your life."

I shook my head absentmindedly. "I didn't know."

As we headed back to the hacienda, thoughts jabbed into me. I forced my mind to go back to that calamitous day and squeezed every terrifying moment out of it. A foggy memory that had been kept in the dark too long started finally emerging. I could feel someone's hands behind me, but I had ignored them for the hands that had reached out to me. Why hadn't I ever realized it? How could I have been so inconsiderate, so blind in not giving credit to the true hero of the story?

Chapter 21: Valentina

When my parents and I stepped into the _Big House_ after finishing our business in town with the photographer, It was fluttering with energy. The Montenegros had just arrived—close friends of the Sevillas whose acquaintance went back generations in Don Clemencio's family. They had lineage that could've been traced to the royalty in Spain, according to rumors. They owned the hacienda next to the Sevillas but had neglected it when they had moved to Europe. Now they were back, and Doña Renata complained incessantly about what a horrible condition their hacienda was in.

"I don't know how I'm going to live in that pig's sty," she chafed.

"We'll have it fixed soon enough," Don Timoteo declared, annoyed by his wife's ranting. He seemed to much prefer the company of Doña Clotilde than his own complaining spouse.

Meanwhile, I set aside the churning thoughts from the revelation earlier and took to attending the new family. I had plenty to do since they would be staying at the Sevilla Hacienda while their own was getting readied. Mr. and Mrs. Montenegro had three daughters and I rushed from one to another helping them dress and get their hair done.

"Thank you," said Delfina, the eldest daughter, when I finished with her hair. It flowed in loose waves with the top part in a curly knot. "Thanks a lot, Valentina." I looked at her with surprise.

"Valentina is your name, isn't it?" she asked.

"You know my name?"

"I wasn't sure if I was remembering it right."

She hadn't been at the hacienda since she was a small child but she remembered my name. Wasn't that surprising? And she had thanked me.

"You did a great job with my hair," she blurted, almost giddily. "I want to look good for dinner."

I didn't think about her words until much later when I was helping serve the food. The table had been set with the best china and the finest decorations. The silver candelabra from Europe sat in the middle of the long, reddish-brown table, looking like a sparkling jewel. Delfina made it a point of sitting next to Lucio who looked very uncomfortable and often glanced at me.

The next day it was impossible to get together with him since Delfina appeared to be tagging Lucio. Wherever he was so was she, along with one of the servants the Montenegros had brought with them. Even though her obviously bored chaperone, Gregoria, stayed a short distance away, Delfina stuck close to Lucio. Doña Renata grinned at Doña Clotilde with a satisfied smile and Lucio's mother returned it. Lucio, on the other hand, kept throwing me glances whenever he could of sheer frustration.

I would've deeply disliked and resented Delfina for her puppy-dog attachment to the boy I loved except for one thing, she was sweet and kind. Unlike her sisters who acted just like Lucio's sisters, she seemed to have a heart. Delfina always thanked people no matter their station in life and looked at everyone in the eye. Still, she was after my Lucio and I didn't hesitate to tell him what I thought about the situation when I finally got to meet with him at the river. We sat next to each other, under our favorite tree.

"She's always with you," I declared. "Like a dog with a bone."

"Tina, I'm not to blame for this. I don't encourage her."

"I think your parents want you to be with her."

He chuckled. "You're letting jealousy infest you."

"Lucio," I said, irritated. "It's not in my imagination."

He smiled. "You can stop worrying. My father has always told me that he wouldn't arrange a marriage for me, that I can choose."

"As long as you choose someone from your own class."

His smile abruptly left him. "No one's going to choose who I marry," he snapped.

"No? You sure about that?"

His soft kiss gave me the answer. "I'm sure."

The flowing water next to us gurgled. It took me years to be able to come back to the river after the horrifying accident, but I couldn't stay away forever. The area was so peaceful, relaxing, and private. As long as I didn't get on the banks, I was fine.

"Lucio?" I said, feeling the absolute need to talk to him about what I had been waiting for days to discuss with him.

"Yes?"

"I need to ask you something."

He frowned. "This isn't about Delfina, is it?"

"It's got nothing to do with her."

"Okay, good," he said, his easy smile returning.

"It's about the day that I almost drowned," I said quietly.

"What about it?"

"Were you alone that day?"

"Tina, why would you ask me that?" he asked, surprised.

"What do you mean?"

"You know that I wasn't."

"Leonardo was there too," I mumbled.

"If you knew that then why did you ask me?"

"I asked you because I had never realized he had jumped in the water and steered me towards you."

"You had never realized it?"

"I only remembered seeing your hands stretching towards me," I asserted.

"You didn't remember him pushing you up to me?"

"It was all so confusing that day."

"How did you finally realize it?"

"My mama cleared it up for me a few days ago."

He nodded quietly as if he was suddenly bothered by a tremendous thought. "Do you feel differently towards me?—now that you know that it was Leonardo who actually saved your life?" His voice was small and tight.

"Of course not," I expressed, my tone abrupt.

"Are you sure about that?"

"Of course I'm sure!"

He let out a deep breath. "I swear to you that I would've jumped in, but Leonardo beat me to it."

"I know you would've."

"He told me that I needed to stay put so I could pull you out."

"That was a smart plan. If you hadn't followed it, I'd probably be dead."

He took my face in his warm hands. "I'll always be grateful to him for what he did. He's the reason you're here with me."

"I owe him a lot," I sighed.

Chapter 22: Valentina

As I reached the store on my birthday, I concentrated on what I could only buy once a year. Chocolate. We, the _campesinos,_ owed the _hacendado_ owned stores so much. We were paid so little that we had no choice but to borrow from their stores, and this kept us chained to a kind of slavery through debt. My parents and I had already scrounged every cent we could for the photograph but they knew how much I loved sweets so with absolute sacrifice, they gave me for one bar of rich chocolate—that nectar of the gods that my ancestors had brought to the world. My mouth watered just thinking about it.

Nearing the door, it swung open and who should come out but Leonardo—of all people. His face was as morose as always. When he saw me, he flashed a look of surprise but not one that was bigger than mine.

"Good evening," I said, still completely stunned at having run into him.

This time, he didn't return my greeting with sarcasm but instead did what was normal for him and nodded his head at me.

"How have you been?" I asked, the guilt of never having recognized his heroic act squeezing me.

"Why do you ask me?" he questioned suspiciously.

"What?"

"Why do you ask me how I've been?" he asked with a defensive undertone.

It was impossible to be nice to the guy! "It's customary to ask people how they are," I responded a little sharply.

"But you've never asked me."

I breathed out a frustrated breath. "That's because you're rude," I blurted, instantly chastising myself for losing patience. Here I was trying to move the conversation into a place where I could give him a long overdue thank you, and I got caught up with his rough personality. "Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

Leonardo's light colored horse, _Crema,_ who was tied to a wood post, suddenly started kicking and jerking wildly. A snake had slithered close to _Crema,_ panicking the horse so much that with all the movement, he undid himself from the post! Everyone got out of the way—everyone except Leonardo whose horror showed in his eyes. I knew in that instant that he had frozen with the thought of how his parents had died. I quickly ran to him and pushed him out of the way. _Crema_ bolted past us, almost skimming us as he kicked and ravaged. I've never breathed out such a sigh of relief, but Leonardo still looked pale.

"It's okay, Leonardo." I put my hand on his arm. His wild eyes rested on my hand on his arm, and then his penetrating sight went to my face.

"You saved my life," he stated, gulping for air.

"What's wrong with you, boy?!" yelled his uncle, having stepped out of the store. I had never seen him so furious with his nephew.

" _Crema_ —"

"Yes, I know he ran away, you idiot. You're so worthless! What if we can't find _Crema_? He's worth much more than you," Mr. Velasquez said as he took his specially made horse whip, the one he also used on his workers, and started flagellating Leonardo. I jumped in front of Leonardo, trying to stop his uncle but caught one painful whip on my leg where it immediately started gushing blood.

"Get out of the way, girl!" he ordered.

Leonardo got me out of the way with a light push and angrily grabbed the whip from his uncle. Mr. Velasquez was no match for Leonardo's youth and strength.

"Look at what you did to her!" Leonardo yelled. "This will stop!"

"Are you sassing me, boy? Give me back that whip!"

"I've already told you, I'm not taking this from you anymore!"

"You'd better give me that whip," he menaced.

"No," Leonardo said stubbornly back. By that time a large crowd was gathering, and everyone stared with shock at the scene. No one had ever seen Mr. Velasquez treat his nephew like this or Leonardo yelling at his controlling uncle.

"Give. Me. The. _Whip_ ," Mr. Velasquez menaced slowly, his eyes smoldering.

"No."

"Leonardo—"

"No!"

"Okay, keep the whip," snapped Mr. Velasquez. "But you are no longer welcomed in my house. You have to fend for yourself. I'm tired of your insolence and my charity ends here."

Loud gasps reverberated in the air as Mr. Velasquez turned around and started striding away. Leonardo was sixteen-years-old and left to his own recognizance. The worse was that everyone would be afraid of helping him. It wasn't that the people weren't generous because I had seen them take in orphans many times but this instance was different. Leonardo just wasn't any orphan. He was the nephew of the powerful and cruel Mr. Velasquez. Leonardo was now truly on his own.

"Are you okay?" he asked, looking at my bleeding wound with unbridled anger.

"I'm fine," I said, having forgotten it while thinking about what would happen to Leonardo.

"I'm so sorry he hit you," Leonardo grumbled, his dark-brown eyes in a squint. "You shouldn't have gotten in front of me, Valentina."

"I had to do something."

"That was stupid."

"Are you calling me stupid?"

"No, I'm saying that getting in front of an angry man with a whip is stupid."

"Can you just thank me?" I asked, exasperated.

He eyed me carefully. "Thank you," he mumbled as his hand glided over his dark-brown hair.

"You're welcome."

"Valentina, you could've gotten seriously hurt."

"But I didn't."

"Valentina—"

"Stop worrying about me. You've got bigger problems to worry about. What will you do? Where will you live?"

"I'll be fine."

"Come with me," I told him.

"What?"

"Come with me," I repeated, more forcefully.

He looked at me with curiosity and questions in his eyes. "Where?"

"To my house."

He shook his head vehemently. "You can't take me to your house."

"Yes, I can."

"That's a terrible idea," he stated.

I crossed my arms in front of me. "So I act stupid and have terrible ideas?"

"I didn't mean to insult you."

"Are you sure about that?"

"I just don't want to get you in trouble," he stated.

"It won't hurt to talk to my parents."

"Do you realize what I'll be bringing to your family. My uncle is an evil man."

"Let's let my parents decide what to do, all right?"

"But—"

"All right?" I asked more firmly.

"Valentina—"

"All right?" I insisted. "I'm not going home without you. You may be as stubborn as an old burro, but I'm even more stubborn. Come with me, please."

He reluctantly nodded his head. I knew the only reason he had agreed was because we were making a scene and people were staring and whispering. Walking swiftly, we headed towards my house quiet and solemn until he decided to speak.

"I'm sorry you have to spend your birthday like this," he stated.

"You know about my birthday?"

"Yes," he said simply and left it at that.

I chuckled darkly. "Well, it wouldn't be my birthday without something happening. That's for certain."

He eyed me with a pensive look.

"I can never have a peaceful birthday," I announced.

He nodded as if he knew what I was talking about.

"Take for example, the time I almost drowned," I said delicately. "And you saved my life."

He looked away and I couldn't read his face—not that I could penetrate his rock-like mask even when we faced one another.

"I've never thanked you," I blurted. "It's just that—"

"There's no need," he declared as if it was all he wanted to discuss of the matter.

"I—"

"You don't have to thank me."

"But I do have to thank you."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I—"

"You don't."

"Leonardo!" I exploded. "Let me finish."

He nodded solemnly at me. "Go ahead."

"I'm ashamed to say that I didn't know what you had done for me until recently . . . That day was so confusing and so traumatic for me that I didn't realize you had jumped in the river . . . I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize."

"Thank you for saving my life."

"Thank you right back for today," he murmured.

During the rest of the walk, he stayed quiet and so did I. I wondered how I would explain to my parents as we neared my humble home. I stole a quick glance at Leonardo, his features closed off as usual as if nothing had just happened with his violent uncle. How much had he been hiding? I asked myself what his life was really like.

Once at my house, I asked him to stay outside while I first spoke to my parents.

"This is a very bad idea, Valentina," he stated. "I shouldn't have listened to you."

I rolled my eyes. "Are we going to start fighting again?"

"Valentina—"

"Wait here while I go inside," I said firmly.

"But—"

"Don't go anywhere. Wait for me."

"But—"

"Leonardo, just wait. Promise me you'll do that." I could tell by his eyes he was planning an escape as soon as I stepped in the house.

"Valentina—"

"Promise me," I demanded.

"I don't want to get you and your family in trouble," he asserted, his face in a determined stance.

"If you don't wait then I'll be forced to look for you. Is that what you want?"

"No," he said quietly.

"Please promise me you won't go."

"But—"

" _Promise._ "

He let out a long breath. "Okay, I promise."

"You'll be waiting for me when I get back?"

"Yes, but please take care of your wound before talking to your parents, okay?"

I ignored his question and stepped into my home comfortable that he would in fact do what he had promised me. He might've been rude and ill-mannered but of one thing I was sure of—he was a person of his word. My parents sat at the kitchen table enjoying a cup of coffee as I walked in. They jumped up alarmed when they took a look at me.

"What happened, _mijita_?" asked my mother, running to my side. "You're a mess and you're bleeding," she cried, not taking her eyes off my leg.

"It's just a little cut."

"You call this a little cut," my father roared.

"Epimenio, go get the alcohol. Hurry!"

My father rushed to the cabinets where my mother kept the medicine and grabbed the rubbing alcohol. I was so concentrated on telling them about Leonardo that I barely felt the painful sting as my mother poured it on the angry wound over a wash basin.

"How did this happen, Valentina?" asked my father.

"Papa, I have something very important to ask of you."

"Not until you tell me what happened," he said furiously. "This is a whip mark! Who whipped you?"

My mother eyed me with heavy concern as if waiting for an answer. Since both what I wanted to ask them and what had happened to me coincided, I decided to let it all out.

"Mr. Velasquez hit me by accident," I said quietly.

"By accident?!" yelled my father. "How does one person hit another by accident?"

"He was trying to hit Leonardo."

"His nephew?" asked mama.

"Yes."

"I've always suspected that he treated his nephew very badly. Poor boy," sighed my mother.

"How in the world did he hit you instead?" asked my father, demanding an explanation.

"I got in the way," I said quietly.

"You got in the way?" asked my father.

My mother nodded knowingly. " _Mijita_ , were you trying to prevent Mr. Velasquez from hitting Leonardo?"

"Yes, exactly."

"Why would you do something like that?" my father asked furiously.

"I just had to," I declared.

"Wait till I get a hold of his uncle—that _fregado_ Velasquez!" declared my father.

"Please, Papa. Leave it alone."

" _Hijita,_ look at what he did to you."

"He's untouchable, Papa."

My father nodded violently. "With his relationship to the Sevillas, he does whatever he wants with us. Those _hacendados_ own us. We're nothing more than slaves to them."

" _Ay, mijita_ ," cried my mother. "Your poor leg."

"I'm okay, Mama, I really am."

"You'll have a mark there for the rest of your life," my father snapped.

"It's okay. I'm glad I have it. It'll be there to remind me about the evil that's out there—the cruelty of some people."

"Why was that cow's fart hitting his nephew?' asked my father.

"A snake spooked _Crema,_ and the horse ran away. Mr. Velasquez said the animal was more valuable than Leonardo."

"He said a horse was more valuable than his flesh and blood?" asked my mother. "Now I know he's evil."

"After I got in the way of the whip, Leonardo took it away from him."

"I've always said that despite having such an uncle, that boy is honorable. He's strange but with good intentions."

"With his parents dying like that, I guess he's been a bit lost in this world," my mother proclaimed. "Like a baby chick without its mother."

"His uncle disowned him," I informed them, getting ready for my plea.

"What?" asked my father.

"Mr. Velasquez said that Leonardo wasn't welcomed in his house anymore. He'd have to fend for himself."

"What is that boy going to do?" asked my father. "No one will take him in. Everyone is afraid of his uncle."

"We can take him in," I said wistfully.

"What did you say, _hijita_?" asked my father.

"He should live here with us," I declared.

"What kind of an idea is that?" my father asked roughly.

"He has nowhere to go," I pleaded. "Please, Papa."

"He did save our daughter's life," announced my mother.

"I know but . . ."

"But what?" asked my mother. "How important is it to reward the person who saved our daughter from drowning? Honestly, Epimenio! Sometimes you have as much sense as a goat."

"But, Ofelia—"

"This is something we have to do, Epimenio. God is watching."

"It's my birthday today, Papa. Without Leonardo I wouldn't be here."

"I guess he's a good kid," stated my father, "even if his uncle is the devil himself."

"We couldn't have any more children. He'll be like a son to us."

My father started laughing suddenly. "I may not be able to give ese fregado Velasquez his due, but taking his nephew in will upset him."

Being as young as I was, I wasn't aware of the full extent of the sacrifice I had asked of my parents. Mr. Velasquez was more than upset and was about to throw us out of the hacienda when the priest dressed him down. The fear of God prevented him from further action against us, but he still grumbled when anyone from my family was near him. My father seemed to be enjoying the annoyance the situation caused the _capataz._ Papa told my mother and me that Mr. Velasquez and those like him would soon be getting their due. He declared the time of tomorrow was close to arriving at our doorstep. The winds of change were coming. These winds would change all of us profoundly.

Chapter 23

When Valeria had woken up from hypnoses, recalling a few childhood memories Dr. O'Leary had suggested she remember, she was baffled over why she felt so exhausted.

"I don't know why I feel so tired after our sessions," Valeria commented.

"Going through the psyche can really take it out of you," Dr. O'Leary rushed to say.

"I didn't feel as wrung out when I went to other therapists."

"We're getting more work done."

"Yes," Valeria said, smiling. "A lot more." Valeria shifted her legs, causing the side slit from her blue skirt to open.

"What's that?" Dr. O'Leary asked in shock as she pointed to a long skinny mark on Valeria's leg.

"Oh, it's nothing," Valeria announced nonchalantly.

"Is that a scar?" Dr. O'Leary asked with much interest.

"No, it's a birthmark."

"A birthmark?"

Valeria smiled. "Yes, can you believe that some people think it's a scar from a whip? Who would whip me?"

"Who would do that?" asked Dr. O'Leary with a tight, dry voice.

"Besides, up close it's obviously a birthmark—all brown and everything. I've had this thing since I was born."

Dr. O'Leary pensively nodded. "Since birth," she mumbled to herself.

"Dr. O'Leary, I want to tell you how much I appreciate what you're doing for me," Valeria blurted with feeling.

"No appreciation is necessary," Dr. O'Leary stated nervously. "This is my job."

"But you've helped me so much."

"I have?"

"I feel so much better since I've been coming here."

"You do?" Dr. O'Leary asked with curiosity.

"I feel lighter, as if I was carrying a whole load on top of me and now it's lifting."

Dr. O'Leary cleared her throat. "I'm glad you feel like that."

"It's like a miracle."

"It is?"

"Yes, absolutely."

### Chapter 24: Valentina

"The last you had told me, Valentina, was that the winds of change were coming," said Dr. O'Leary.

They were definitely in the air, dancing chaotically around. People of my class were frustrated and angry. All of us _campesinos_ could feel the huge earthquake coming and bringing down everything to the ground where a new start would be possible. In the meantime, Leonardo settled in with my family. There was no room for him inside my tiny home since the whole house had just two rooms—my parents' room and the kitchen which was combined with where I slept on a tiny cot. Leonardo had to sleep outside in our vegetable shack where we put whatever food we could grow on the miniscule piece of arid land that Don Clemencio rented to us.

At first I wondered how Leonardo was taking this new life of such poverty. After all, he had lived in the second best house on the hacienda, but I soon confirmed that things weren't what they seemed. One day when he took off his shirt so I could wash it, I gasped at what I saw. With nauseating horror, I stared at all the painful lash marks on his back. They were angry wounds, some still a vibrant crimson from a more recent occurrence, and others a deep brown from age. Noticing my astonished gaze, he quickly turned his back away from me.

"Leonardo—"

"They don't hurt," he insisted roughly as if trying to put an end to a conversation about them.

"But—"

"I've got things to do," he announced, leaving.

I spent the day trying to get those lash marks out of my head, to leave matters alone, but I couldn't. Every time I thought about them my stomach churned in a violent rage. How was it possible that his own flesh and blood had hurt him like that? How? I had to talk to somebody.

"Have you seen the scars on Leonardo's back?" I asked Lucio when we were alone, feeding the pigs. The Montenegro family had moved to their own hacienda so without Delfina always following him, we had more time together.

"Yes," he said uncomfortably. "I've seen them."

"You have?" I asked, surprised. For some reason, I hadn't expected him to know about them.

"Yes," he repeated.

"They're awful," I blurted furiously, my throat constricting.

"I know," he stated quietly. "I told my father about them a long time ago . . . I begged him to do something about Mr. Velasquez but . . ."

"Your father didn't care, did he?" I retorted as each pig devoured the slop, trying to swallow all the food before another got to it.

"No," Lucio muttered, ashamed. "I don't understand my family sometimes."

"We're nothing to them," I snapped.

He took my hands, holding them tightly but gently. "I'm not like them. You know that."

I nodded with the sour taste in my mouth still pouring acid. "I know."

He sighed deeply. "I tried to do what I could for Leonardo, always trying to keep him with me and away from his uncle."

I smiled at Lucio. "You're a very good person."

He smiled back. "Not always."

"Yes, always."

A mischievous grin replaced his smile. "No, not always. I'm stealing a kiss without caring what you think."

"I'll _think_ about _letting_ you near me." But his lips were already on mine, robbing my breath and sense of balance.

He chuckled when we disengaged. "I told you I'd steal a kiss."

"You didn't steal it," I asserted. "I gave it to you."

"As long as you don't give them to anyone else," he stated.

"Why would I do that?"

His face turned pensive. "Just make sure no one takes any kisses from you," he said, frowning. "I'm the only one for you."

"What?"

"I worry about Leonardo living at your house."

"Why?"

"I think he has feelings for you."

"Feelings for me?!" I asked in disbelief.

"He's in love with you."

"Don't be silly," I stated, very annoyed that he would say such a thing.

"How did you learn about his scars anyway?" asked Lucio with jealous suspicion. "Why were you looking at his naked back?"

I rolled my eyes. "He took off his shirt, so I could wash it."

"You shouldn't be in the same house with him," he blurted. "I'm going to talk to my father about—"

"Just leave things alone."

"But—"

"Just calm down."

He took a deep breath. "I couldn't stand it if you fell in love with someone else."

"Why would you think that I could love someone else?" I snapped.

"Everything we do, we have to do in secret. Maybe you're tired of it," he explained, letting out a sharp breath.

"Lucio, what is this silliness coming out of your mouth?"

"It would be easier to be with Leonardo," he stated bitterly.

"I don't want to be with him or anyone else. Don't you know that by now?"

He gently took my hands and kissed them. "I'm sorry for doubting you."

"You'd better be."

"I am, and I'll make it up to you," he said, his mouth finding me and plowing me with tiny, heated pecks.

As the days moved forward, I tried to stay away from Leonardo as much as I could with us living under the same roof. I still didn't actually believe what Lucio had told me about Leonardo's supposed feelings for me, but I kept away nonetheless. It just seemed better for everyone involved that there be distance between Leonardo and me, and it helped that he didn't like to speak very much. My mother was annoyed at having to pull conversations out of him, but my father appreciated that he was a person of few words.

"Too many people talk nonsense," he'd assert. "Only few have something important to say."

But my mother would still doggedly try to get him to converse with her.

"How was your day, Leonardo?"

"Fine."

"Just fine?"

"Yes."

Father Mateo had forced Mr. Velasquez to allow Leonardo to keep working at the hacienda, but it couldn't have been easy to put up with his uncle's mistreatments.

"Did anything interesting happen to you today?" my mother asked.

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"Talk to me about anything, Leonardo," my mother implored.

"About what?"

"Anything."

He shrugged his shoulders and stayed silent.

"Did you notice how big the baby calves are getting?"

He shook his head.

"How about the newborn pigs?—aren't they cute?"

He shrugged.

My mother threw her hands up in despair and stepped outside to tend to her spice garden. I chuckled.

"You really frustrate her," I informed him.

"I don't mean to," he answered solemnly.

"Why don't you like to speak?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I think actions are better than words."

I nodded at the wisdom of what he had said. "That's true."

With no further conversation, he stepped out of the house. The one thing about Leonardo was that he couldn't sit still. He was always doing something and work for him never stopped. When I looked out the window, I saw that he was helping my mother take care of her beloved herb garden. I smiled. Whether my mother accepted it or not, he spoke the only way he could. Luckily for me, it allowed us to live in the same home without dealing with one another too much.

Luckily.

Chapter 25: Valentina

As I went about my life, flowers started coming my way again. I was certain it was Lucio's way of apologizing for having doubted my love for him. I was so pleased to see them again, their colorful faces brightening my days. It crossed my mind that I should finally get them out in the open with Lucio but quickly changed my mind. The deliciousness of their secrecy and thoughtfulness would be better left clandestine, but then I noticed a large footprint next to them. A horrible suspicion started growing inside of me.

What if this time they didn't come from Lucio? Leonardo was much taller and had much bigger feet than Lucio, and he had probably seen Lucio leave me flowers in the past.

I had to uncover the mystery, and I couldn't ask Lucio about it. He was already jealous that Leonardo lived in my home. But I had to know the truth.

"Where are these coming from?" I asked Leonardo, the flowers in my hands as I went up to him. He was by himself, pulling the weeds from our small field of corn.

"What?" he asked, sweat pouring from him as the sun shone relentlessly in the sky.

"These flowers—who leaves them for me?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes!"

"Don't you like them?"

"You leave them for me, don't you?" I asked with a rushed, tight voice.

"I've got work to do," he announced, returning to his weeds.

I tapped his arm. "Answer me," I demanded.

"You're interrupting me," he said firmly. "I'm busy."

"Please answer me," I entreated. "I need to know."

"Yes," he said simply.

"Yes, you'll answer me or yes, you've been leaving me flowers?"

"Yes to both," he stated as he strode to another row of corn, leaving me behind.

I ran up to him. "Why are you leaving them for me?"

"I thought you liked flowers."

"I do but you shouldn't be doing that," I insisted.

"Why not?" he asked, his dark eyes going into mine.

"What if Lucio found out?"

He frowned. "I'm only showing my appreciation for what you did for me."

"You don't have to do that. As far as I'm concerned, we're even. You saved my life, and I saved yours. You can stop leaving me the flowers."

"If that's what you want," he grunted.

"Thank you for your good intentions, but you shouldn't have copied Lucio."

"Copied him?"

"With the flowers," I stated.

He quickly shifted his eyes. "Okay," he garbled, a strange tone to his voice and in that instant I knew. I knew the truth that had been eluding me all these years. My mind instantly went back to when I had picked up that broken stemmed sunflower so many years ago when I was just a child. Leonardo had been there.

"Lucio never left me any flowers, did he?" I asked quietly, my throat itching with the powdery dryness of a lack of moisture in it.

"I have to get back to work," he stated, bending towards the weeds.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"What for?" he asked, starting to pull them out again with an old rag in his hands for protection.

"You didn't want me to know?" I asked, puzzled.

"No."

"But—"

"I knew you liked flowers, and they made you happy," he stated, continuing his work without even glancing at me. "That's all there is to it."

"But—"

"That's all. I need to finish with these weeds today, if you don't mind."

"Okay," I mumbled, stepping away. I walked swiftly to where my legs wanted to take me, the whole disconcerting episode turning circles in my mind. I ended up at the river where I plopped down under Lucio's and my favorite tree, listening to the rushing water. I covered my face with my hands wondering how everything I had so neat and organized in my head was coming apart. What I had believed in was a fairytale.

Lucio hadn't saved my life.

He hadn't showered me with flowers.

_Did it really matter?_ I asked myself. Of course not. _Love shouldn't be conditional_. It couldn't be so tiny that it could only fit in certain situations. It had to be about so much more than a few acts of kindness. Much, much more.

I love Lucio.

That's all that matters.

### Chapter 26: Valentina

Again, the flowers stopped coming and even though I was relieved, I missed the instant shot of joy they brought me when I'd find them. Leonardo and I acted as if we had never had the conversation about them, as if he had never admitted to shaking up my life. We went about our lives as if everything had stayed the same, and we rarely spoke to one another. But having dinner one night, we sat quietly across from each other when he changed the rules on me.

"How was your day, Valentina?" he asked me, his face looking actually interested. Both my parents stared at him with surprise.

"It was good," I answered, flabbergasted.

"How was _your_ day, Leonardo," my mother chimed in.

"Don Clemencio bought some new horses. They're beautiful," he stated.

My mother grinned. "You like horses, don't you?"

"They're much more loyal than some human beings," he asserted.

"You're right about that, my boy," my father declared. "There are some human beings who fight against God's goodness. Horses, on the other hand, are loyal to who treats them well."

"Even though my parents were killed by an accident with a horse, I know it wasn't the horse's fault."

It was the first time I had ever heard him mention his parents. He was only five years old when they had died, but I was certain he remembered them with perfect clarity. His dark eyes had sparked when he had brought them up.

Later that evening, when my father had gone to bed and Leonardo went outside to the vegetable shack, I wondered what it would be like to be an orphan. I shuddered as I glanced at my mother next to me in the kitchen. We were doing our sewing.

"Yesterday, Leonardo complimented me on dinner," she stated, her face perplexed as she darned my father's socks.

I nodded. "Your tacos were very good."

They had been simple pinto bean tacos but my mother could make a feast out of nothing. When she had added spicy chorizo and other seasonings to them, they exploded with flavor.

"Leonardo has never complimented me before."

"What do you mean, Mama?" I asked, puzzled. "He always thanks you for the food."

"Yes, but he never gives a compliment. You have to pull words out of that boy like pulling a bone away from a dog."

I shrugged my shoulders. "Maybe he's losing his shyness."

My mother smiled. "He's opening up."

"Opening up?"

"Who knows all that he suffered with his uncle. Who knows what scars he has making him mistrust people."

"He does have a lot of scars on his back," I stated, my voice tight.

"They're probably nothing compared to the ones he carries inside, but it looks like he's starting to open up."

While Leonardo was losing some of his morose behavior, Lucio was doing the opposite and his frequent bad moods started to concern me. When I asked him what was wrong, he would insist that I was imagining things. But he and his father seemed to be arguing all the time behind closed doors. Finally, I confronted him at the river where we could talk freer than in any other place.

"I wish you would just tell me what's going on," I implored.

"It's nothing."

"How can I help you if you won't tell me?"

"Tina, it's noth—"

"Stop telling me that it's nothing," I growled. "Even Matilde the cow would be able to tell that there is something wrong with you."

He reached for my hands and held them tightly. "Okay, I'll tell you. But I didn't want to upset you."

"What is it?" I asked, taking in a sharp breath.

"Since turning eighteen . . .," he said, hesitating.

"Yes?"

"My father wants me to get married."

"Married?" I muttered. He quietly nodded. "He wants you to marry Delfina, right?"

"He's always told me I could marry who I wanted, and now he's insisting I marry her," he snapped.

"What are you going to do?" I asked, trying to keep the shakiness from my voice.

He frowned deeply. "Do you even have to ask?"

"Yes."

"You don't think I'd marry her, do you?"

"But if your father forces you—"

"He can't force me," Lucio declared. "He's not going to make me marry someone I don't love."

My breath became more even. "He's going to keep insisting. Don Clemencio is a stubborn man."

He took my face in his hands. "He can insist all he wants. The only girl I'm going to marry is you."

I had counted on Don Clemencio's stubborn insistence but I hadn't counted on his sheer perseverance because it seemed that the Montenegro family was continuously invited to the Sevilla Hacienda. A day would hardly go by without them coming for at least one meal. And Delfina continued her pursuit of Lucio.

Gregoria, the bored chaperone who always had to accompany Delfina, once told me when we were having a meal in the kitchen that she couldn't understand how Delfina was making such a fool of herself by throwing herself at Lucio. According to her, it was obvious he didn't want anything to do with her.

"Stop following me," I heard him burst one day while I was tending the flowers in Doña Clotilde's garden. Lucio had just stepped out the back door and Delfina trailed him. Neither one had seen me.

"Please don't be upset with me," begged Delfina, her face crumbled and her hazel eyes filled with water.

"You have to stop following me," he said, getting control of his frustration as his tone lost some of its biting edge from earlier.

"I'm sorry," she uttered with a small voice. "I didn't realize I was bothering you."

"I didn't mean to be rude or ungentlemanly," he exclaimed, "but please forget about me."

"Our parents—"

"I don't care what our parents think, and it would do both of us good if you tried to make your family understand that you can't marry a person you barely know," he stated. "I've got things to do. You stay here." He stalked away without ever knowing that I was in the flower garden. I couldn't help smiling as I went back to tending the orchids.

"Valentina," a voice called my name. I looked up to find Delfina staring intently at me.

"What can I do for you?" I asked, surprised she had called out to me.

"Come sit with me on the bench."

"I've got the garden to take care of and—"

"Please, Valentina. I'll tell Doña Clotilde I needed you and made you come help me."

"But—"

"Please."

I nodded, not being able to avoid sitting with her. Up close, her eyes were a painful red and the saddest I had ever seen them. Usually, she was lively and full of life. The sunny day didn't do anything to alleviate her burdens.

After dismissing her chaperone, Delfina turned to me. "How long have you been here at the hacienda?" she asked, as if it was a very important question.

"All of my life."

"So you've known Lucio for a long time," she said, some spark in her voice.

I nodded, wondering where this conversation was heading.

"I need your advice." Her voice was almost breathless, her hazel eyes wide, and her pretty face in consternation.

"My advice?"

"I love Lucio."

I took a huge, painful gulp and hoped she didn't see the jealousy crossing my face. "You what?" I snapped.

"I love him. I love him with all of my heart."

Incensed words rushed out of my mouth. "But he just told you to leave him alone."

Her face lost all color except for the redness in her swollen, teary eyes. "You heard us?"

"Lucio's voice is very loud."

"I guess I can't blame him for being rude," she said, her voice breaking again. "It's not the first time he tells me."

"Then you can't be a puppy begging a child to love her," I blurted.

"I just thought that if he'd get to know me, he'd love me too . . . What do I do, Valentina?" she asked desperately. "How do I make him love me?"

"I don't think you can make anyone love you," I explained, hiding the thorns from my voice. I was starting to feel sorry for her.

"But there has to be a way," she insisted. "You've known him since you were children—tell me what I can do."

"Delfina!" called Leonor from her window on the second story. "Stop talking to the servant and come up here with us."

"That's it!" she excitedly told me, her face coming alive again. "His sisters should be able to help me." She looked up to the window. "I'll be right there!"

Delfina sprang up from the bench like a cat that had jumped onto a table full of food.

"Thank you for listening to me. If you think of anything, please tell me," Delfina said, heading to the house.

I stared after her, shaking my head.

For the first time I was grateful for Leonor's obnoxiousness. She had interrupted at the perfect time before my loose mouth got me in trouble. The things I wanted to tell her!

Stay away from Lucio!

He had made it perfectly clear how he felt about her. If a man had told me what he had told her, I wouldn't be begging him. But that was me. Now Delfina would ask Lucio's sisters how to win his heart. But his heart already belonged to me.

Chapter 27: Valentina

My mother had kept it carefully hidden all day. Neither my father, nor Leonardo, nor I noticed the lack of energy in her walk or the down turn of her expression. All of us were too busy at work to pay attention but in the evening when I arrived home with her, she ambled over to her bed and plopped down. With deep concern, I put my hand on her shiny forehead. My mother was boiling! She lost consciousness a few minutes later—only talking in intelligible words. I quickly sponged her face with a rag soaked in cold water. I tried to figure out what to do while my mind spun. I couldn't leave her alone, but I needed to do something.

When I heard the outside door swing open, I rushed to it, almost tripping on the few pieces of old furniture we had. Leonardo eyed me with a perplexed look.

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately.

"My mama," I muttered as I tried to form words while I kept trying to slow down the anxious thoughts inside me.

"What?"

"My mama, my mama," I repeated. It was all that would come out of my dry mouth.

He grabbed my shoulders roughly. "What's wrong with your mama?" he asked, his voice almost as frantic as mine.

"She's sick!" I exclaimed, finally finding my speech." I quickly took him to my parents' room. He rushed to my mother.

"She's burning," he announced as he kneeled at her bedside and touched her skin.

"We need a doctor," I declared.

He stood up. "I'll go get him."

"Doctor Mireles won't see her unless we pay him first," I blurted. "We've got to get some money."

A few weeks ago, Doctor Mireles, the only physician in town, had announced that he was tired of not getting paid and would now take precautions before treating anyone.

"Don't worry about money—he'll see her," Leonardo stated, as if it wasn't a problem.

"But—"

For the second time that evening, Leonardo grabbed my shoulders. This time much more gently than previously.

"I'm not letting anything happen to your mother. Doctor Mireles will come. I promise you."

I nodded. "I'll take care of my mother while you get the doctor. Please hurry!"

"I'll make sure someone tells your father what's happening," he announced as he rushed out.

True to his word, my father dashed in the house soon after Leonardo had left. His face was stricken and flushed as he sat next to my mother on the bed. He took the wet rag I had in my hands and patted her face with it.

"What am I going to do if she dies?" he asked desperately.

"She's not going to die," I stated.

A short time later, Leonardo stepped into the house with the doctor in tow. Doctor Mireles immediately examined my mother and stayed at the house for the rest of the night. None of us got any sleep as we waited and prayed that the treatment was working.

In the morning, her fever finally broke and Doctor Mireles left medicine for her. He assured us he'd be back to check up on her. She woke up a few moments later, groggy but with her full faculties.

"Mama, you really scared us," I told her.

"I'm just a little sick."

"A little?" I asked, smiling. "Just like a pig is only a little fat."

"Yes, a little sick," she insisted.

"Okay, Mama, if you say so."

Instead of taking care of my mother, the next day I had to go back to work in the _Big House_ to take my mother's place in the kitchen. Even though my mother was still weak, Doña Clotilde grumbled that her head cook was taking advantage of an insignificant illness. She insisted that workers always faked as much as they could to indulge their lazy ways. In the entire time my mother had worked at the hacienda, she had only not shown up for work once—when I was born.

I really wanted to tell Doña Clotilde what I thought of her but restrained myself. Instead, I turned my _evil_ eyes on her. She immediately clammed up and rushed out the kitchen like her daughters had done so long ago. Grumbling loudly, I did my work. I would just have to keep all of the anger inside of me like others in my situation were doing, where it was festering and growing.

As soon as Lucio heard about my mother, he cornered me in the kitchen where fortunately, I was alone.

"Is your mama okay?" he asked anxiously. I could tell he wanted to touch me, but we had made an agreement that we wouldn't risk getting caught by reaching for each other in the house. There were too many eyes and ears in it.

"She's fine," I said, giving him a small smile as I filled the beef soup pot with spices for the _caldo._

"What happened to her?"

I started cutting potatoes. "She had a very high fever."

"Do you need money for the doctor," he asked, his eyes digging into mine.

"Leonardo took care of the doctor."

"He did?"

"Yes."

"I guess he's the hero again," blurted Lucio with a tinge of jealousy in his voice.

I frowned, putting my hand on my hip. "It's not about being the hero," I chastised strongly. "It's about caring for others."

"I'm sorry," Lucio expressed. "You're right. I just wish he didn't get to play the hero so much. He makes me look bad."

"That's ridiculous," I stated,

He gets to live with you and come to the rescue of your family," Lucio grumbled bitterly. "Soon, you'll wonder what you're doing with me."

"Lucio!" I chided. "Stop it."

"But—"

"Stop this jealousy," I demanded. "I had to stay up all night with my mother. I don't know why you're doing this to me."

"You're right. I'm sorry to be putting you through this."

But that twisted jealousy towards Leonardo didn't end with my having scolded him. Lucio started paying close attention to his childhood _amigo_ and started realizing what the rest of us already knew. Leonardo was changing into a softer human being. Some of his rough edges were disappearing and in their place grew some smiles and even laughter once in a while. The transformation was remarkable.

Lucio eyed Leonardo suspiciously, not understanding what was happening to his old friend. Lucio didn't say anything about it. He just grew solemn if he saw Leonardo close to me. I decided it was best to leave whatever thoughts Lucio had about the matter to himself. But the day I accidentally tripped over the _hacienda_ dog that was chasing a stray, yellow cat and I roughly tumbled to the ground, his twisted thoughts came splattering out as soon as Leonardo reached me. Lucio was too far from me to get to me first.

"Get your hands off her," Lucio demanded as he rushed to me.

Leonardo ignored him and helped me to my feet. "Did you sprain anything?" he asked, his hands still steadying me.

"I'm fine," I stated, hating the angry vibes in the air. "Bruised but fine."

"I told you to get your hands off her," Lucio snapped, roughly yanking me away from Leonardo.

"Stop that!" I demanded, jerking myself away from him.

"You're hurting her," Leonardo fumed.

Lucio stepped into Leonardo's space, face to face. "It's you that I'll be hurting."

"You can try," Leonardo growled, not stepping back even a tiny centimeter.

I immediately flew in between them. "What's gotten into the both of you?" I questioned furiously. "Aren't you best friends?"

"Not any more," stated Lucio.

"You two need to get it together," I snapped.

Lucio tried to step closer to Leonardo as if trying to crash into him, but I stayed firmly in place. There wasn't going to be a physical fight—not while I was here. My disgusted irritation with the both of them grew by the second.

"She loves me," Lucio yelled at Leonardo. "Not you—me."

"I know that," Leonardo mumbled.

I needed this conversation to end. "Stop—"

"How could you do this to me?" Lucio asked Leonardo, his tone shaky. "We're like brothers. How could you fall for the one I love?"

"I could say the same to you," Leonardo muttered.

"But—"

"You didn't love her before I loved her," Leonardo insisted. "You just won her heart before I could."

Astonished with what I had just heard, I put my hand on my right temple. How could this be happening? How could Leonardo be in love with me? How could I have not realized it all these years?—even after he had confessed about the flowers. There was no question as to my naïveté.

Lucio glared at him. "Leonardo, don't—"

"You only noticed her because I would stare at her. You didn't even know her name."

"Stop it, you two!" I snapped. "I'm not a toy to be fought over!"

Lucio let out a frustrated noise. "This isn't about who saw her first," he told Leonardo with gritted teeth, "or even who loved her first. She chose me."

"I know."

"I—"

"Don't say anything," Leonardo muttered. "Whatever is done is done."

He stalked off with both Lucio and me staring after him. His proud form disappeared in the distance as a stony silence enveloped the air. What had just happened?

Lucio and I didn't talk about Leonardo again, refusing to acknowledge his confession. Even though I could tell that Lucio was more bothered than ever that Leonardo lived in my home, he kept his tongue in place. Maybe he felt guilty that he hadn't considered his friend's feelings when he was romancing me. Maybe he wanted to ignore the entire situation. Maybe now that the truth was out, he wanted to let it lay low until it dissipated into the air.

I just wished I could put the disclosures back into the air-tight jar they had come from and return to the way things were before the confessions. It made me uneasy to know how Leonardo felt about me. I most certainly didn't want someone to love me who I couldn't love back. And it put a heavy strain on my relationship with Lucio. I couldn't say anything to Lucio about Leonardo anymore, not even about my discovery of how Leonardo had gotten Doctor Mireles to come to the house without giving him a single cent. I desperately wanted to share the surprising story with someone and how I had tripped upon it.

Leonardo kept coming home past midnight every day. I knew it because I would wake up when I'd hear noises coming from the outside. I'd peek out the window and find him returning from somewhere and going into the vegetable shack. When I asked my father about it, he told me that Leonardo had exchanged the doctor's services for his own. Leonardo was putting up a wall in what would be Doctor Mireles's new home.

"But don't tell him I told you," my father asked of me. "He doesn't want anyone to know."

"It's just like him to want to keep his good deeds a secret."

"He's an incredible human being," my father asserted. "Very, very incredible."

Chapter 28: Valentina

Days before my seventeenth birthday, I had such a dark foreboding, I couldn't keep my head straight. What would happen on that day? So much was happening in my country that I couldn't help but expect explosions from all around me.

Change was finally here. There were insurrections all throughout with the poor tired of the abuse. This was good that we were turning the power structure upside down but still, I worried that something horrible was around the corner. It was my birthday after all, and it always brought abrupt shifts in my life. As soon as I saw Lucio's serious face at the river where we agreed to meet, I knew my dark feelings hadn't come from my imagination.

"What's wrong?" I immediately asked.

He stared at the ground for a few seconds. "I've got to tell you something."

"Tell me what?" I asked, concerned.

"My father wants the family to leave the country."

"What?"

"With the political climate being what it is, it's dangerous to stay here. My father will be staying for a while, but we'll be leaving."

"You're leaving me?" I muttered.

"You don't understand. I want you to come with me."

"What?"

He took a white box from his trouser pocket and opened it. A shiny diamond ring sat inside, sparkling with bright prisms. The gold band around the translucent rock caught the golden rays of the sun. "Marry me."

"You want me to marry you?" I asked, questioning whether I had heard correctly.

"Marry me," he said, his lips shaping themselves into their quick smile.

Oxygen squeezed my throat as the shock pulled at me.

"Will you marry me?" he repeated.

"Yes," I declared, the word slipping from my mouth like a bird out of a cage.

He showered my face with heated kisses, not leaving any skin untouched. "We'll be leaving in about a week to the United States. I'm supposed to go ahead of my mother and sisters to take care of some things. We have to keep it a secret that you'll be going with me. You can't tell your parents until the last minute, or our plans may be ruined."

For the next few days thoughts of Lucio and me occupied my overflowing mind as I tried very hard to put my disrupted concentration on the mundane tasks I was still responsible for. I barely noticed what was happening around me until Lucio's family abruptly woke me up.

"What's wrong with you?" snapped Doña Clotilde as a servant styled her hair. "You can't even do this right, you stupid girl."

I boiled like an overheated soup as I stepped into Leonor's bedroom to clean it. With deep relief, I noticed it was empty. As I started making the bed, loud noises started echoing in the room through the large open window. I realized that Leonor and Josefina were outside, enjoying the cloudy weather—a welcomed respite from the sweltering heat.

"When we're in the United States, we have to get with the best families," Leonor stated. "We're not the only ones leaving Mexico."

"I'm just relieved the Montenegros will be there."

"At least we'll know one family. Lucio can't avoid Delfina over there."

"What's wrong with that boy?" asked Josefina, frustrated. "He acts as if he doesn't know that it's his duty to marry her."

"He's the only one who can continue the family name and the purity of our bloodline."

Josefina let out a guffaw. "He'd better understand that."

As soon as I arrived at the kitchen to help my mother, she eyed me with a curious expression.

"I don't understand you, Valentina," she declared. "First you're happier than a cow in a new pasture and now you're quiet and grumpy."

"I've got a lot on my mind."

"Do you want to talk to me about it?" she asked, concerned.

I shook my head.

"Don't worry, _mijita,_ " she said, putting her warm arms around me. "I'm sure everything will be okay."

I started cutting bloody red meat into the tiny squares my mother needed for her specialty stew made with three kinds of green chile—poblano, serrano, and jalapeño. The dish was so rich and fiery that neither Leonor nor Juanita would eat it, but it was Don Clemencio's favorite meal, so my mother had to make it once a week and cook another meal for the girls.

The knife I was using wasn't very sharp but the tender meat cut easily. I finished fast so I could help my mother with the other main dish she was preparing—tamales. They took so much work with the pork filling in red chile sauce manipulated to perfection and then the corn gruel knocked into submission before being smoothed over onto corn leaves. Josefina didn't like the red sauce, so my mother had to make her tamales with a chicken filling. It was no wonder my mother got home exhausted at night with having to tend to the Sevilla family's every selfish whim.

I looked over to my mother who worked with the intensity and concentration of one who loved to cook. Why had I never noticed how she poured the salt into her hand before shaking it over what she was cooking, or how she tasted the food every few seconds to make sure the texture didn't change? I thought about my father who said he couldn't live a day without my mother's flour tortillas and then he'd chuckle from the pit of his stomach at his assertion. My family. Not someone else's. Mine.

The day before Lucio and I were supposed to leave and on my birthday, we met at the river for last minute arrangements. After wishing me a happy birthday and assuring me he was going to give me the best of gifts in the United States, he gave me the times, coordinating factors, and schedules of our escape.

"We're going to be so happy together," he declared, a broad grin on his lips.

I looked at him solemnly as the past few days came jerking out of my memory. "Your family will never accept me, Lucio."

"When they get to know you, really know you, they'll love you like I love you."

"Do you really think that?"

"Yes," he announced.

"They won't," I argued, my voice firm and as forceful as a bull in a ring.

"Tina, we'll be in another country," he explained. "Things will change."

"No, they won't," I retorted. "And I'm not so sure I'll be able to accept your family either."

"But you won't be a servant anymore. You'll be my wife."

"I'll always be a servant to them."

"But—"

"Besides, that's not the point. There's nothing wrong with being a servant. There is something wrong with those who treat us as if we're less than them, with no respect or consideration for other human beings."

"Tina," he said gently cradling my face in his hands. "I can't break off with my family yet. What would we do in another country with no money?"

"Lucio, your father will probably disown you if you marry me."

"I'm his only son. He'll be very upset, but he won't disown me. We'll be fine."

"I won't be fine. I'll be away from my family, in a foreign country, and with people who have always mistreated me while my own country is in the middle of change and needs me."

"Valentina," he said, pronouncing my full first name with frustration. "What are trying to tell me?"

"There's too much going against us."

"You're not coming with me?"

"No," I uttered.

"Don't do this," he pleaded. "You'll separate us forever."

"Lucio, I just can't go with you." Tears started welling in my eyes as I handed him the diamond ring he had given me only a few days ago.

"Valentina," he said my name angrily, refusing to take the ring. "Don't do this. I have to leave Mexico. It's not safe for my kind here."

"I know," I said quietly.

He grabbed my hands, the ring still in them, and put them over his heart as his own eyes grew wet. "You're scared—that's what it is. But you don't have to be because our love can overcome anything."

"I can't go with you, Lucio."

"Don't do this to us. I'm begging you."

"I have to."

"But—"

"Lucio, it's just not a good idea for me to go with you."

He abruptly flung my hands away from his heart. "I thought you loved me."

"I do," I declared. "I—"

"You don't love me enough," he blurted, a spattering of tears falling from his eyes.

I tried to reach for him but he stepped back. "I do love—"

"Not enough," he insisted. "If you did you'd go with me."

"Lucio, you're not listening to me," I said with frustration. "I do love you, but we have too many things going against us right now. In the future, when the revolution is over and you don't depend on you family, we'll be able to be together."

"I really don't see why we can't be together now," he snapped. "You're making excuses not to go with me."

"Your family will never accept me and you know it. You know it!" I snapped, my incensed eyes on him.

"But—"

"Stop being in denial," I fumed.

"You don't love me like I love you," he declared bitterly as he snatched the ring from my hand and flung it into the fast flowing water of the river. I stared at the sparkling diamond hitting the water and sinking into its violent movement. I'd never be able to get it back. It was forever lost.

Furiously, I turned to him. "Lucio—"

Refusing to hear me out, he stalked away. I stayed glued to where I was in a trance-like state.

He turned to me from a distance and the last words he ever spoke to me were, "I never want to see you again."

Lucio didn't wait until the next day to leave. He didn't allow for an extra day to cushion his anger. Instead, he left right after our explosive dispute, taking with him the few bags that were already packed and not caring what he left behind.

Not thinking twice about who he left behind.

I didn't see him when he left. I didn't say even one more word to him.

I didn't say good-bye.

He was gone.

Chapter 29: Valentina

My ability to distinguish sound was lost. Animal noises created a buzz-like chorus, human movement glided together, and voices blurred into each other. I kept asking people to repeat themselves because I couldn't understand what they were saying. My parents would ask me what was wrong. My answer was always quick and curt, "Nothing." They finally stopped questioning me and left me to my silence.

Even though my mother had a strong suspicion of where my mood was coming from, she didn't say anything and nor did Leonardo. He quietly moved around the house barely making any noise. And this was very good within the new life that now belonged to me—a life that consisted of pure monotony. Tasks that I had to do took up the long seconds of my existence. Changes like that of new days, new months, and new seasons seemed nothing more than old cycles making circles around me.

"Do you need any help?" Leonardo asked when he saw me struggling with two buckets of slop.

"Huh?"

"Let me help," he said kindly as he took the two buckets from my hands and walked with me to the troughs where he turned the buckets over. The pigs grunted blissfully.

From the three pigs there were now ten. Piglets fought each other for the food, and Leonardo chuckled.

"These animals are funny," he stated.

"They're greedy little monsters," I said, a small smile on my lips. "But they're so cute."

"You really like them, don't you?"

"It's no use getting attached to anything on the hacienda," I declared, not being able to help the bitterness in my voice, "Don Clemencio is going to sell them."

Leonardo nodded as he intently stared at me. "Everything in this life is like the wind blowing through."

I eyed him with a startled expression. I wasn't used to Leonardo being poetic. As soon as he noticed my reaction, he shifted his eyes, embarrassed. He made an excuse and left.

That evening, when I was helping my mother with dinner at the hacienda, I told her what Leonardo had said.

"He's so right," my mother commented.

"He sure is."

"That boy has a lot more inside of him than what he lets us see," my mother commented.

"I think so."

Chapter 30: Valentina

I stared into the flowing water, not really looking at it but trying to intertwine myself with its movement. I admired its persistence in keeping its own rhythm.

"Hi," a voice cut through the nature sounds. I immediately recognized it without having to look up to its owner.

"Hello," I returned to Leonardo, my eyes anchored to the water.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle.

I turned to him. "Yes," I stated. "What are you doing here?"

"I saw you walking towards the river," he said uncomfortably, "and I thought I'd see if you were fine . . . I'll go now." He turned to leave, but I caught his arm.

"Stay," I said.

"Are you sure?"

"I've been alone too much."

He nodded absentmindedly. "Sometimes you need to be alone to mend."

"I guess so."

"It takes time."

I wondered if he was thinking about the deaths of his parents. "The hacienda just won't be the same without Lucio."

"Why didn't you go with him?" Leonardo asked quietly. "He must've asked you to."

I nodded. "He asked me to marry him."

"Why didn't you marry him?"

"I just couldn't."

"Why not?" His voice was the most gentle I had ever heard it.

"He thought his family would accept me when we were married and across the border," I retorted.

"He's a fool if he thought that," Leonardo stated.

"I couldn't make him understand."

"Lucio has never known what it's like not to be accepted. Being born into money makes you look at the world differently," he grunted.

"But Lucio wasn't like the rest of his family," I stated.

"But he was still part of them—born with all the privileges that make it almost impossible to understand what it's like not to have them."

"I guess you're right," I agreed. "So many people are jealous of the Sevillas. Except for Lucio, all I saw in them is ugliness. Nothing to envy."

"No, nothing. There's only one thing I've envied Lucio about," he asserted, eyeing me carefully, "But nothing else. And I can guarantee you that it had nothing to do with his position or money." He took a huge angry gulp. "Don Clemencio's fortune came from our blood and not from an honest life—even the hacienda was stolen."

It was well known among the _campesinos_ that the lands of the Sevilla Hacienda had once belonged to Mauricio Rivas until the Sevillas had claimed it. Don Mauricio hadn't been able to produce any paperwork but his family had been on the land for generations. He got dispossessed anyway and ended up dying of what many say was an inconsolable heart.

"I could never care about high society," Leonardo continued. "Why should I care about being in a class that only cares about stupid things like who's showing off to who?"

I stared at him—my mouth wide open. I had never heard him talk so much or voice his opinions so freely.

"You don't like what the elite class has done to our country any more than I do," he declared, staring into the water.

"They're dressed up hogs that trample on anyone getting in their greedy way."

"Comparing them to hogs is insulting to the animal."

I chuckled loudly. "I could never be part of that uppity class."

"I admire you for staying. If my parents were still alive," he said with spikes of sadness in his voice, "I wouldn't leave them in the middle of so much upheaval. I couldn't abandon my country when it needed me the most."

He understood me better than I thought he did.

Chapter 31

Valeria had profusely thanked Dr. O'Leary when she left, creating a suffocating atmosphere of guilt in the office. For whatever reason, the sessions seemed to be helping her patient even when Valeria didn't know what was actually happening in them. Dr. O'Leary was still having her go through childhood memories in order to keep her from wondering about her hypnotized state. Dr. O'Leary had smiled with the knowledge that Valeria had had an especially wonderful childhood with doting parents, trips to Disneyland, and fun times. Because of the nature of her work, Dr. O'Leary rarely encountered individuals with such functional backgrounds—mostly the dysfunctional visited her.

_If she only knew what lies in her deep past_ , thought Dr. O'Leary.

Chapter 32: Valentina

The flowers started coming to me again in their entire colorful splendor, blissfully ignorant of the darkness that had taken over me. They stayed true to themselves, always arriving in my paths with the bright colors that illuminated the dark grays in my life. It was almost as if they were daring me to get out of the murky hole I was in.

Leonardo and I never talked about them. He knew that I knew where they were coming from and that was enough for both of us. Instead, we talked about other subjects like the best way to care for pigs. We started with light conversations, not going back to the heavy one we had at the river, but then our talks took a detour into his personal past by accident.

One day when I turned too fast, not noticing he was behind me, I dropped a sack of uncooked pinto beans on his feet.

"I'm sorry," I blurted, grabbing the sack.

"It's okay," he said, rubbing his feet.

"I didn't see you."

"It's okay," he repeated.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," I continued, knowing his wound must be throbbing. The sack had been sizeable.

"It's okay."

"The beans slipped from my hands and—"

"I know, Valentina. Believe me, I know when someone is trying to hurt me," he stated as his right hand went to his back, touching it in an absent-minded way.

I winced, remembering the marks penetrated there. "I'm really sorry," I muttered.

"Stop apologizing," he demanded.

"But—"

"Stop."

"I'm trying to tell you that I'm very sorry that your uncle was so cruel to you."

I waited for him to shut off like he usually did when anyone got personal. He never discussed his past, as if it had never existed. I sometimes wondered what he carried inside so stoically and with such control.

"My uncle and his family never cared about me," he blurted bitterly. "Getting whipped was nothing compared to not being cared about."

I stared at him with surprise. This was the first time I had heard him say anything like that.

"You're very lucky you have so many people who love you," Leonardo announced. The shut down came then as he abruptly turned around and left. I was still stunned with the slight opening in his armor that I had just witnessed, and I felt oddly closer to him than I had ever before.

A few weeks later, we were at the river, both resting from a hard work day because now that most of the Sevilla family was gone, Don Clemencio seemed to enjoy taking out his frustrated loneliness on us. I decided to see if I could get Leonardo's armor to open some more.

"Why didn't you ever run away from your uncle?" I asked gently and braced myself since I didn't know how it would go. Either he would answer me or shut down and leave.

"I had my reasons," he answered solemnly, eyeing me carefully.

"What reasons?"

"Those reasons are mine and mine alone," he declared.

I knew not to push further. He had told me this much and for him to open up even a little was monumental. In his own way Leonardo was teaching me valuable lessons.

So I began to pass through my days not just occupying my thoughts with the one who had left but with the beginning of a realization that eased me. Despite what Leonardo had gone through, wasn't he very different from when he had first moved into my home? Didn't he smile more, laugh more, and talk more? Wasn't he proof that some sort of healing from a hurtful past could be possible?

Chapter 33: Valentina

When Baudilio Gallatan, one of the newest workers at the hacienda, started asking me questions, I answered them without giving him a second thought. He had just moved to Chihuahua from Durango and wanted to know basic information.

How big was Cevallos?

Where was the church?

How long had I lived here?

I didn't pay much attention to him or to the sour notes in Leonardo's moods. At first, both men seemed to be getting along. Baudilio's gregarious persona suited Leonardo's quiet one, but then as Baudilio started grilling me with questions, Leonardo's attitude toward him changed. I did my best to ignore the situation. Baudilio, though, didn't seem put off by my reserve. As I was feeding the pigs one day, he showed up with a grin and a bar of chocolate for me. I quickly shook my head.

"You have to take it," he stated, his hand out with the rich candy.

"But—"

"You've been so helpful to me," he stated. "I wanted to give you something, and they told me you liked chocolate. Please don't rebuff my gift."

I gave in, hoping that if I accepted his gift, he'd leave. "Thank you," I said, taking it.

He smiled even broader. "I really like you, Valentina."

"You barely know me," I said, uncomfortable with how close he was standing next to me.

"I've been to two states and you're the prettiest girl I've seen."

I ignored his comment. "I'm really busy," I stated, trying to dismiss him. I knew all about his slick ways having seen them in other boys.

"From the first time I saw you, an arrow hit my heart," he continued, not being able to take a hint.

"Baudilio," I said firmly, "I really have too much to do, and I don't have time for romance or to chat."

"Kiss me," he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards him. "You won't regret it."

What he hadn't realized was that in my other hand, I carried the empty bucket of the slop I had just given the pigs. Without hesitation, I swung it at his head. It made a loud thunk sound when it hit its mark. He fell back to the ground, holding his head and moaning.

"What did you do that for!" he yelled, a large purple bump started to grow from his forehead.

"Don't you ever try to kiss me!" I snapped furiously. "I'm not a baby chick for you to grab when you want!"

"You almost killed me!"

"What's happening here?" asked Leonardo, having stepped into the area from the stables. "What's all the shouting?"

"She hit me with a bucket," blurted Baudilio, still on the ground.

"What did you do to her?" Leonardo asked suspiciously, his voice threatening.

"Nothing!"

Leonardo's eyes were unconvinced. "What did you do to her?" he repeated, menacing.

"I didn't do anything to her."

I grabbed the bucket off the ground and started leaving. "I've got a lot to do," I stated as I stepped away. "Stay away from me, Baudilio, or next time I won't be so gentle with you."

"You'd better leave her alone," threatened Leonardo, before catching up to me.

I rushed towards the _Big House_ , and Leonardo had no trouble keeping up.

"What was that about?" he asked me.

"Baudilio seems to think I'm interested in him," I retorted, my blood still boiling.

"I knew it," he said, incensed.

"I don't know why he thinks he can sweet talk his way into my heart," I snapped.

"He doesn't know you."

"Now he does. I'm sure my bucket taught him a lesson."

Leonardo started chuckling; a rich sound that only came out rarely. I couldn't help but join him. It was the first time I had laughed since Lucio had left.

Chapter 34: Valentina

The day that Don Clemencio made the grand announcement had begun peaceful and quiet. Even the animals weren't as loud as usual, and the atmosphere was lazy and hushed so when he loudly vociferated his joy, his voice echoed through the air.

"Congratulate me!" he gushed. "My son just got married."

Don Clemencio announced that even though he disapproved with the way Lucio had eschewed a huge formal wedding for a last minute one in front of a priest and a few guests, he was glad that Lucio had finally come to his senses and married the girl he had picked out for him—Delfina.

Leonardo caught up to me at the river where I was on the bank, staring at the rough, flowing water. With all the rain we'd had in recent weeks, the water was as violent as the time I had almost drowned. I didn't even turn to look at him as my right hand clutched the heart necklace I had yanked off my neck. I had not been able to fling it to the river. I had intended it to follow the fate of the diamond ring.

"Are you okay?" he asked me gently.

"I'm fine," I blurted, a wide range of emotions coursing through me. Feelings of betrayal, bitterness, hurt, and anger competing with each other.

He looked as if he didn't believe me. "You don't look okay."

"Don't worry about me."

"How about if we get off this muddy river bank and go sit under a tree?" he asked, pointing to one.

I shook my head, my eyes stinging with hot tears that I was refusing to let flow. "He was no more faithful than a stray dog," I muttered. "I don't want to go near that tree."

Leonardo's eyebrows knit together until he figured it out. "Is that where you'd sit with him?"

"Yes," I mumbled.

"Let's go to another one then."

We stepped over to another tree—one that was much bigger than the one I had shared with Lucio, and we sat at the bottom of the huge, gray tree trunk.

Leonardo didn't say anything as I finally let what I had inside of me out. My arms wrapped around him, and he embraced me back, tucking me under his chin. For the first time I appreciated his way of communicating without words, his voice silent.

There just wasn't anything to say.

"Life has many roads," my mother remarked quietly as we were fixing dinner at our home. "Just ask a chicken that has escaped from its coupe."

"What did you say?"

She glanced at me with unbridled concern. "Sometimes it looks like there is only one way towards happiness, but there are really many. Believe me."

My very smart mother had figured out my situation. "All the chicken has to do is escape from its prison, right?"

"And then it can see the world outside of its confinement."

Chapter 35: Valentina

On my eighteenth birthday, I stepped out of the thick haze I had been living in.

Pretty much in a fog during my seventeenth year, I now could see the extra patches of silver in my parents' hair and the worry wrinkles around their eyes. In having gone into a state of frozen suspension, I had taken them inadvertently with me—the two people who had always taken care of me and loved me unconditionally. They were completely undeserving of what I had put them through.

I saw the future flash before my eyes—a future of bringing them more pain. Lucio had taken with him the daughter they had always known, the fulfillment in watching a bloodline grow, and the grandchildren they would spoil.

But what was done was done.

He was married, and I was still alive.

We'd _never_ be together again. We'd _never_ share any more moments. We'd _never_ plan for the future. What was done was done. And it was time to take a firm look at my situation without sentimentality, without feeling sorry for myself and without second guessing the decision I had made in not leaving with him.

Unshakable Truths:

Lucio was the past.

I would never love anyone like I loved him.

_I had to stop punishing my loved ones for what had happened to me_.

I made an abrupt decision. On this birthday, instead of waiting for something to happen I would shake up my own life. I walked up to Leonardo who was on his knees planting tomatoes outside our home. He looked at me with curiosity as I approached him.

"I need to ask you something," I stated, letting my determination guide me.

"Okay," he answered, wiping his brow and waiting for me to speak.

"Would you like to marry me?" I boldly asked.

His eyes widened with astonishment. "What?"

"Would you marry me?"

He stood up as if he needed to be closer to my words to understand. "You're asking me to marry you?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"You're a good man, Leonardo. I'd be lucky to have you." I would never lie and tell him I loved him. He had to know exactly what he was getting himself into.

"Are you sure you want to be my wife?" he asked, his eyes intently on me.

"Yes."

"But—"

"I'll understand if you don't want to," I informed him, deep sincerity in my words.

"But—"

"I'll understand if you don't feel for me what you used to."

"I still love you, Valentina," he murmured. "I always have and always will."

"Always?"

"Yes."

I was deeply touched by his confession. "Let's get married then."

"No," he stated strongly. "I want to be loved."

"I understand," I murmured.

"I _need_ to be loved."

I nodded, showing him I respected his decision. "You deserve to be loved," I murmured softly, walking away.

I left him to his work. His pride was fully intact. I couldn't say I blamed him for not marrying a woman who he knew loved someone else. Odd feelings started bubbling inside of me because instead of relief that he hadn't taken me up on my rash and half thought out idea, I was strangely disappointed.

That same evening, as if fate was conspiring in the strange way it sometimes works, my mother's bitter sobs came to me from the open kitchen window. She had gone outside our home to get some spices from her garden and left me cooking our supper. As I started to rush out, I heard another voice.

"Doña Ofelia, is everything okay?" Leonardo asked with much concern in his voice.

"I'm fine, Leonardo. I'm just a mother like any other with her worries."

"What are you worried about?"

"Nothing that you should concern yourself with."

"Please tell me. Maybe I can help. You know I'd do anything for you."

"Thank you but there isn't anything you can do."

"Maybe I can help."

"Believe me, you can't."

"I can't stand to see you this way, Doña Ofelia. Maybe you'll feel better if you talk about it."

"It's about my daughter," she finally explained.

"What about Valentina?"

"Her happiness went away." Her voice was small and weak. "You know what I'm talking about, don't you?"

"Yes."

"She's always dreamed about having many children. Probably because she was an only child. I guess that dream is over."

The next day, Leonardo took me aside, a very serious look on his face, and knelt down on one knee. I stared at him, flabbergasted. As I was about to ask him what he was doing, he pulled a sunflower from his pocket—a perfect, bright-yellow flower.

"I can't offer you expensive gifts," he said, his eyes reaching into mine. "But I can offer you my heart. Will you marry me?"

"But yesterday—"

"Forget what I said yesterday."

"You deserve better than what I can offer you," I mumbled. "Much better."

"You don't want to marry me anymore?"

I thought about my mother's tearful outpouring. "I do but . . ."

"But what?"

"You have a right to want to be loved, Leonardo," I stated.

"Maybe the love I feel for you will be enough for the both of us."

"I don't want to harm you like a sick animal harms others without meaning to."

"Valentina, marry me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"You're positive about this?" I questioned.

"Yes."

"You're sure you won't regret it?"

"I'm sure," he affirmed.

"Okay, let's get married."

As soon as he told my parents, asking for my hand in marriage, their tight faces loosened into smiles. It was then that I fully realized how much they had esteemed this quiet stranger who had entered our lives, never intruding in it but being a strong presence nonetheless. I also found out how much they had wished for this to happen. My mother had been lighting candles to the saints for a long time.

In private, she told me, "You'll find your true love with Leonardo. You'll see how right I am."

Chapter 36: Valentina

In the days before my wedding, I didn't look back or question my abrupt decision but only thought about moving forward. That was all you could do in life or else drown. The day came swiftly when I put on my best outfit, the one with the long bellowing sky-blue skirt and the light pink blouse with colorful flowers embroidered on it and went to Father Mateo to get married. There was no flowing white dress and no big fiesta. Money was so scarce and as for a ring, my mother took the one off her finger and gave it to me. It was a delicate gold band with an etching of a flower in the middle. The ring had belonged to my grandmother and now my mother said it was mine.

Everything happened so fast. It was like a blur. One minute I was feeding the chickens and the next I was married to a man who even though I didn't love, I respected very much. I had hardly caught my breath, and I tried not to think about the first time a man would take my virginity—a man who wouldn't be Lucio. Would I be able to get through it?

On our first honeymoon night, we stayed in my Aunt Eduviges's home in town. My aunt and her family were visiting cousins and had offered us their humble home.

After having a quiet dinner of rice and chicken, we stared at each other awkwardly. What next? It was dark—the only light coming from an old petroleum lamp on the kitchen table. I turned away from him, not being able to stand his unwavering eyes on me. He gently put his hand on my cheek, turning my face towards him and his lips started coming to mine. Without meaning to, I jerked my head back. His eyes turned hard as he let out a frustrated breath.

"I don't know why you keep holding on to him," Leonardo snapped. "He left you! I wouldn't have forced you to make a choice you didn't want to make. And I wouldn't have left you! If you loved me the way you loved him, nothing and no one could've driven me from you—even if it meant risking my life."

He brusquely grabbed me by the hips and pulled me to him, his mouth bruising mine before I could protest or try to stop him. His kiss, so different from the only other man I had ever kissed, yet it was not less but actually more—more intense, more demanding, more everything. When he pulled away, I grabbed the chair next to me before my legs could buckle under me. He strode to the door without looking back but as he yanked the door open, his hard gaze fell on me.

"Another thing, I wouldn't have married someone else and left you broken. You're the only woman I'd ever marry," he insisted bitterly, putting one foot out the door. "I'll be sleeping outside where you'll be safe from me."

The next day we had our meals together but barely crossed any words. He was quiet and so was I. It seemed that everything he had wanted to tell me he had let loose the night before, leaving me in a state of confusion.

His kiss had lingered in my mind like a guest you hadn't invited but once in your home, found him valuable. It had unexplainably connected me back to warmth, movement, and life itself. It was as if my emotions weren't dead anymore.

In the evening, after a dinner of spicy red enchiladas, I put my hand on his arm while he was preparing to go outside. "Don't leave," I blurted. I didn't want him to go away. He was my husband. I was his wife. We were tied together now.

"Don't leave," I repeated with more feeling.

He turned to me with confusion in his eyes and opened his mouth to speak but suddenly shut it, gazing at my lips. As his face started closing in on mine, I didn't pull back. Surprisingly, my stomach fluttered with the anticipation of another kiss. I could feel his uneven breath on my skin and I quivered, waiting for his lingering touch. But as his lips were about to join mine, he suddenly pulled away. With a face contorted in frustration, he strode outside. I ran after him.

"Come back inside the house, Leonardo."

"I can't," he proclaimed.

"Why?"

"I can't be with you. Like an idiot I agreed to marry you without you loving me," he blurted angrily.

"Leonardo—"

"Do you at least feel _anything_ for me?"

"Leonardo—"

" _Anything_?"

Suddenly, all the flowers he had ever given me, the quiet talks by the river, and his comforting presence hit my memory like a fierce wind. I pulled myself up to him, on my tip toes, and put my kiss on his. His warmth thawed me out—thawed all those months of frozen coldness. He immediately responded, taking everything he could from me until he tore himself away.

He put his forehead to mine and caressed my cheek with his index finger. "Let's go inside?"

I nodded. "Yes."

Leonardo took my hand and led me inside the house to the small bed I had slept on the night before. As we sat next to each other, I nervously waited for what would come next. He abruptly pulled me towards him, roughly seizing me, and we accidentally fell off the bed. Landing on the floor with a loud thud, we eyed one another, stunned at what had just happened.

"Are you okay?" he questioned.

I muffled a chuckle that intertwined with the overwhelming tension of being with a man about to enter me for the first time. "I'm fine."

"Are you laughing?" he asked, sitting up on the floor.

I sat up too, my stomach still trembling but the laughter in my throat eating at some of it. "A little."

"I'm sorry, Valentina. This is a disaster."

I tried to soothe him. "Leonardo—"

"It's a disaster," he mumbled.

"But—"

"I should've never come back inside."

"We're married now and—"

"We're not really married."

"Leonardo—"

"You may have my last name, but you aren't my wife. Your heart isn't with me."

"I—"

"I'm not doing this, Valentina, not anymore."

"Doing what?" I asked confused.

"Taking leftovers," he expressed bitterly. "I've been doing it all of my life—first with my cousins who gave me their castoff things and then with Lucio where I always had to do what he wanted. I'm not doing it anymore. I might've married you for your mother's sake because I owe your parents so much, but I'm done with seconds," he stated as he stood up off the ground.

"Leonardo—"

"I'll be outside," he asserted, not looking at me.

"Leonardo—"

"Don't come out. I'm not coming back in," he said as the door shut behind him.

And I was left alone with a winter's chill replacing the warmth I had felt earlier.

Chapter 37

"So you married a man you had never even kissed?" asked Dr. O'Leary to a deeply hypnotized Valeria.

"Right," replied Valentina.

"A man you didn't love."

"He wasn't Lucio."

"You were willing to make love to him though," Dr. O'Leary said.

"Yes."

"Did you want to maybe reward him for having married you when he knew you weren't in love with him?"

"That was part of it."

"Valentina, what was the other part? Why did you want to make love to this man?'

"I didn't know the reason yet. In fact, I wouldn't know it for a while."

"But you would soon realize it?" Dr. O'Leary asked wistfully.

"Yes."

"So Valentina, what happened next with you and Leonardo?"

Chapter 38: Valentina

When we went back to my parents' home, Leonardo and I decided to spend our nights in the vegetable shack that had been his place for so long now. It provided us some privacy—even though we didn't really need it since each night his body would be turned away from me with only his bruised back full of whip marks as my view. Sometimes I'd lay my fingers on those vicious scars, wishing I could make them and their ugliness disappear. He'd twitch at the feel of my fingers on his skin, but he wouldn't say anything or move away from me. Then I'd close my eyes until the blanket over the straw we laid on grew more inviting.

As our untraditional life together progressed, each evening I started to look forward to being alone with him as he told me stories about his day or about observations. I had never known how much attention he paid to small details like the differences in a bird's chirp or the small variations of the clouds in the sky. He also knew where the stars sat and the common noises of the night.

The flowers he still left me now included other gifts such as beautiful smooth stones on my milking stool and delicious figs or pomegranates on any windowsill I'd be near. But all was not quiet and calm in our lives. Much was going on around us.

We, the _campesinos,_ were so sick and tired of being slaves, of being used by the higher classes who justified their mistreatment of us. One thing I've learned is that whatever position in life you're in, that's the side you take. The rich _hacendados_ believed in their divine right to abuse the peasants, that we were put on this earth to proclaim their superiority of European decentness, to make them wealthier, and to serve them. Power was concentrated in their hands—money, education, politics.

We weren't going to take it anymore. The revolution was here and outbreaks with leaders such as Villa and Zapata. My country was in the throes of a necessary chaos.

"Finally," my father stated.

"Yes, finally," agreed Leonardo.

One very moonlit night as the beams of the full round moon came through the tiny glass-free window in the vegetable shack, Leonardo turned to me. We had just gone to bed, exhausted from a hard day's work. As usual, he had turned away from me, but then he changed his mind and turned towards me. His face was only a few centimeters away from mine, and I could feel his light breath on my cheek.

"The war is going to change everything," he said quietly.

"Yes, everything."

"Those greedy elites will finally understand who we are."

"The bulls are definitely out of the bull pen, and they're about to let their _masters_ know who really rules."

"We'll knock those _aristocrats_ off their high ground."

I nodded. "They'll know we weren't put on this earth to worship them," I declared.

"They'll know we aren't just their playthings to be moved around as they please," he retorted.

"They'll finally know who we are. They'll live the bitter moments we've had to live under them."

He breathed out a long breath. "Who knows how long the revolution will last."

I nodded. "Hopefully not long."

"One day it'll be over though."

"Hopefully soon."

" _He'll_ be free to come back," Leonardo stated nonchalantly but his eyes betrayed the frustration hidden in them.

I knew perfectly well who he was referring to. "What if he is?" I questioned.

"He could come back to you," he declared, wincing.

"He's married." I took Leonardo's lead and avoided saying Lucio's name.

"He could leave her."

"I'm married to you," I affirmed, no hesitation in my voice.

"I'd let you go if that's what you'd want. If that's what would make you happy."

My heart tore itself open, oozing out all kinds of emotions. "No," I declared firmly.

"I know it would be hard with the gossip, but both of you could start another life somewhere else. No one would know your past."

"I'm not leaving you."

"You sure about that?" he asked, his soft tone suddenly turning rough.

"Yes, I'm sure."

"But if he was actually here—"

"I'd tell him that I'm married to you."

"You're not sorry that you married me?"

"Why would you ask me something like that?"

"What do you mean why?" he retorted.

"Leonardo—"

"You don't know how hard it is for me to know that you love someone else. My pride eats at me all the time as if I don't have any dignity as a man," he stated bitterly. "I want to _take_ you because you are my wife and not his. But I can't. I can't have you that way. I can't make love to you when you're thinking of someone else."

"Lucio is the past," I asserted. "He's gone, Leonardo. Bury him and be done with it."

"Have you buried him?"

"As surely as I bury a bird when it dies."

Leonardo went deep into himself as if contemplating what I had just said. "You never answered my question," he finally said.

"What question?"

"Are you sorry you married me?"

"Of course not. . . Are you?"

"No," he said, taking a hold of my hand and caressing it.

For the first time we fell asleep facing each other and with his hand holding mine.

Chapter 39: Valentina

I laughed so hard that I nearly tore my stomach open. How could I not? One of the pigs had escaped the pen when I had opened it to straighten out the trough. Leonardo had run after him, unable to catch the sly animal. The pig darted in and out of the path. A frustrated Leonardo tried to catch him, even throwing himself on top of him, but the pig managed to escape.

Finally, I had an idea. I grabbed the slop bucket and waived it towards the animal. "Look what I've got here," I taunted him. "It's your food. M-M-M."

The pig eyed the bucket, gave a loud grunt, and started running after it. All I had to do was empty the slop in the trough and the pig rushed back into the pen where I promptly closed the latch.

Standing up from the muddied ground, Leonardo shook his head. "That pig is the pure devil."

I couldn't help myself and let out a loud chuckle.

"I'm so glad I amuse you," he said, irritated as he tried to shove the dark mud off himself.

"If you could've seen yourself with the pig, you'd be laughing too."

He eyed me with scrunched eyebrows. Then he glanced at the pig happily eating the slop as if nothing had just happened. Leonardo's eyes shifted over to his filthy clothes, and he chuckled and shook his head.

That evening, I cooked his favorite dish of spicy enchiladas. I had to make up for having laughed at him. He smiled as soon as he went to the wood stove and saw what I was making.

His long arms suddenly encircled me, hugging me from the back. The black hair on his deeply muscled skin shone darker next to the lightness of my beige dress as the arm across my stomach firmly squeezed me to him while the other one tightened its grip under my bosoms. Breathing became difficult, not only because of his physical hold on me.

His face landed on the crook of my neck, his steady breath on my goose pimpled skin. "Thank you for making my favorite," he expressed just before kissing the part of my shoulder not covered with the fabric of my dress, the part that was exposed and vulnerable. "Thanks," he repeated, letting me go.

I didn't want to be released.

At dinner, my emotions were still loose, and I had to work on putting my full concentration on the story my mother was telling. With tears in her eyes, she told us about the serious illness of one of the children at the hacienda.

"Of course, Don Clemencio won't do anything to help a poor worker's daughter," my mother retorted. "Juanita is going to die of an infection if her family can't pay the greedy doctor." Tears gushed out.

My father hugged her. "Don't worry, Ofelia. It's been taken care of."

"What—"

"Leonardo already made arrangements with Doctor Mireles."

"He did?" my mother asked, glancing at Leonardo who looked away in embarrassment.

"Doctor Mireles is with Juanita right now, treating her," announced my father.

"Leonardo," my mother gushed. "You are such a good person! Such a blessing from God! Such a—"

"Doña Ofelia," Leonardo interrupted, a reddish tone on his face, "I heard that you found a coyote in the chicken coupe and tried shooting it with Don Clemencio's rifle."

"You tried to shoot a coyote?" my father exclaimed, upset.

"It was eating the chickens," explained my mother. "I had to stop the coyote."

"Those animals are dangerous. You have no business anywhere near them," my father chided. "What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that I didn't want the coyote devouring my best chickens. Unfortunately, he escaped," my mother said forlornly. "I almost had him."

"Don't feel bad," Leonardo stated, looking at me with a smile. "I had an animal escape too."

Leonardo started telling the story of what had happened with the pig. He was so animated, so unlike the quiet boy who had first come here. His dark eyes sparkled, his face an open book. He was so handsome—that husband of mine. So kind. So generous. So amazing.

All I could do was gaze at him.

Chapter 40: Valentina

I tried to make the vegetable shack as livable as possible. The way I saw it, it was home to Leonardo and me. My Aunt Eduviges had given me what she could spare and so had my mother. We still slept on a blanket over some straw on the ground but now we had a rickety old chair, a chipped wash basin over a wood table Leonardo had made, and a small, chipped dresser where I put our clothes.

One day, as Leonardo pulled out a shirt of his, the fabric intertwined with a little box where I kept my few pieces of jewelry. The box crashed to the ground. I quickly rammed what had fallen out back in it but not before Leonardo saw the heart necklace.

"What's this?" he demanded, pulling it brusquely out of the box.

"It's nothing," I answered nervously.

"Why do you still have this?" he questioned as his hand made a claw over the pendant.

"What do you mean?"

"Valentina, I was with Lucio when he bought it for you," Leonardo explained furiously.

"I . . . I—"

"Why didn't you get rid of it?!"

"I . . . I . . . I don't know," I finally finished the sentence.

"I know the reason," he declared, his voice a mixture of anger and frustration. "Why should it surprise me that you kept something of his even when he left you, even when he married someone else?" he said, stalking away so fast that I couldn't catch up to him. Swiftly yanking the door open, he was soon out of my sight.

That night, he didn't come home. I waited and waited, not sleeping at all. It was until the next day, late in the afternoon, that he showed up unnervingly calm and not meeting my eyes. A rush of relief swept over me that he was home.

"Leonardo—"

"I'm joining General Villa," he stated as he started collecting his few possessions in a burlap bag.

"What?"

"I can't be here doing nothing when my country needs me," he stated, not looking at me even once. "I should've already done this."

"But—"

"I can't watch the war from far away like a coward."

"But—"

"I can't sit here and wait for you to love me."

"Leonardo—"

"There's nothing to say, Valentina."

He left after bidding farewell to my parents. They were as much in a state of shock as I was at how fast it had happened.

"May God keep him in His hands," my mama murmured.

Chapter 41: Valentina

My parents started worrying about me because I would hardly eat or sleep. I tried to assure them that I was fine. They, in turn, lightly scolded me by saying that I was going to make myself sick.

"We know what you must be going through," my father stated. "But Leonardo is very smart and strong. He'll be fine."

My mother nodded. "It's hard to see the man you love go to war, but you have to pull it together _, mija_."

The man you love.

_Love? Could it be love?_ I wondered. But what I felt for Leonardo was so different from what I had felt for Lucio _. Nonetheless, I'm worried about Leonardo because no matter what—he's my husband_ , I reasoned. _He's a good person, and I don't want him to get hurt._

I've already hurt him enough for one lifetime.

Meanwhile, life in the village turned upside down. Don Clemencio, terrified of the violence escalating in the revolution, decided to abandon his hacienda and join his family in the United States. We got news of what happened to him soon after his leaving.

Rumor had it that he was killed by a stray bullet from a battle nearby as he was about to cross the border from Juarez to El Paso, Texas. When Villa's soldiers searched his wagon, they found his fortune under his hallowed-out seat. Confiscating his wealth for the revolution, the soldiers took no considerations for his family left with hardly any money in El Paso. As Don Clemencio had never shown any empathy for others below his class those same others showed no mercy for him or his family at his death.

I wondered if Lucio knew about his father. Lucio seemed so far away now—as if part of another lifetime. My life had changed so much since the last time I had seen him. And the changes in the hacienda caused by the leaving of Don Clemencio didn't stop there. One day, we woke up to find that someone had hung Mr. Velasquez from a nearby oak tree. Leonardo's uncle was dead all of a sudden, taking with him his particular evil but leaving the cruelty of his actions embedded in those who knew him.

We never found out who had murdered him but with so many who hated him, it could've been almost anybody.

Months passed by with me hearing very little about Leonardo. From soldiers who came through the village, I found out snippets. I knew that he was actually one of Villa's favorites because he was always first in battle—something that frightened me more than I cared to admit to myself. I would've rather him been a coward if that would keep him alive. But it was my father who reminded me of General Emiliano Zapata's great words, "I'd rather die on my feet than live on my knees."

"Valentina, you married a man and not a boy," my father chided.

There wasn't a moment in the day that I didn't think of Leonardo and at night I'd dream about him. Sometimes in those nocturnal get-a-ways we'd be caring for the animals, or he'd be leaving me colorful flowers on my pathways. There were times we'd be children again, and he'd be staring at me while I was preoccupied with work. The dreams would always end the same way. He'd be dangling the heart necklace, staring furiously at it and then at me.

I had already gotten rid of it, selling it to a merchant. Surprisingly, it hadn't been as difficult for me to let go of it as I had assumed it would be. I had thought that when I handed it over for the last time, I wouldn't be able to contain my emotions. Instead, I was flooded with relief instead of tears.

Getting rid of an object that was part of another lifetime was like freeing oneself. My steps became lighter, my oxygen less heavy, and my movement more purposeful. The heart necklace had weighed me and my new life down.

"You're different these days," my mother had told me, a puzzled expression on her face.

Nodding, I smiled at her. And I impatiently waited for Leonardo to return. I waited.

Chapter 42: Valentina

Without a landlord, my family and I took to growing as much food as we could on our plot of land. We didn't have jobs anymore. Thankfully, my father was able to get work in town with the blacksmith, and somehow we managed.

Every day I'd go through the rows and rows of corn, making sure they were doing fine. Often, I could see Leonardo as he was that day he had confessed about the flowers, pulling out weeds with a determined face that was streaked with long beads of perspiration.

When I'd get done with my work, I'd go to the river where I'd sit for hours under the tree Leonardo and I had shared. The water flowed with gurgling and swooshing sounds—a reminder that movement was happening, even when it didn't feel like it.

One night, my mother asserted, "It's going to rain tonight." We were having dinner, a simple plate of sliced cactus in green chile sauce.

"Judging by the clouds, it's really going to come down," agreed my father.

"Sleep in here tonight," my mother told me.

"I'm fine in the vegetable shack."

"I don't know why you insist in sleeping there," my father grumbled. "The house is much more comfortable."

"I'd rather stay there."

My father shook his head but my mother nodded with an understanding look on her face.

Later that night, when it was storming, I snuggled deep in the blankets that Leonardo and I had shared. Even though I had washed them many times since he had left, I could still imagine his scent. I could still picture his form on the side he always slept. I could still feel him close to me. With this thought I fell asleep.

Chapter 43: Valentina

Like a dream, he walked in the door of my parents' home as if he'd never been away. He nodded at me, not kissing me or even hugging me. But my parents rushed to him and embraced him as I stayed stiffly glued to the floor.

"My troop is nearby," Leonardo stated solemnly. "I wanted to make sure all of you were okay."

"We're fine," asserted my mother. "But a lot has happened."

"Son," my father said painstakingly. "I hate to be the one to give you the bad news but your uncle is dead. He treated you and almost everyone around him like insects to be stepped on, but he was still your uncle."

"How did he die?" Leonardo asked, his voice shaking.

"Someone hung him from a tree. Your aunt and cousins left after they buried him."

"I guess it doesn't surprise me that he ended up that way," Leonardo said solemnly, whatever he was feeling at the moment locked inside of him.

"Don Clemencio is also dead," my mother explained.

Leonardo nodded. "I know about him."

"You do?" asked my father, surprised.

"I was in Juarez when he got accidentally shot."

After having dinner, pinto beans and some green salsa—that was all we had, Leonardo and I went to the vegetable shack. We had barely said anything to each other. He began going through my possessions in our dresser with frenzied purpose. His hands grabbed at my clothes and things and shoved them aside.

"It's not here," I told him calmly.

He stopped what he was doing and eyed me. "You know what I'm looking for?"

"The necklace," I said simply.

"Where is it?" he snapped. "In the house?"

"I sold it."

"The money must've come in really handy," he mumbled.

"If I wouldn't have found a buyer for it, I would've given it away to get rid of it."

He arched an eyebrow. "Why is that?"

"Lucio's my past, and you're my present."

He nodded absentmindedly as if considering what I was saying, but I knew he didn't believe me. "Let's get some sleep," he finally said. "I'm very tired."

I laid down first on the straw, and he maneuvered his body next to mine without touching me, his marked back shutting me completely out. After a few minutes of sleeplessness I finally spoke.

"You abandoned me," I mumbled.

"Can you blame me?" he asked, not turning to look at me.

"No."

"Let's go to sleep."

"I missed you," I stated.

"I don't believe you," he stated.

"But—"

"I don't want to hear your lies."

"Leonardo, I—"

"Stop your chattering," he grumbled.

"Listen to me, I—"

"Stop."

The fury of unexpressed emotions ripped through me and before I knew what I was doing, I jumped to his side, staring at him face to face. "Let me speak," I demanded.

"Valentina—"

"You'll listen to me even if I have to scream or chain myself to you," I expressed, the words rushing out as if part of a long fast train. "I know I did wrong by keeping that necklace. It's unforgivable except that I'm sorry—very sorry that I didn't finish throwing the thing in the river the day you found me there." I took a quick, strong breath. "You're my life now, and I wish you'd believe me."

The darkness of his eyes went deep into me. "I just don't know if I can."

"When I told you I missed you, I meant it."

He let out a long breath. "Is that the truth?"

"You've got to stop calling me a liar," I insisted.

He nodded deep in thought and I did the only thing a woman in my situation could do—I proved to him how much I missed him. As my lips fixed themselves on his and my hands feverishly glided over his scar-marked skin. It didn't take long for him to respond to what I was trying to give him.

And there we were—two awkward bodies, trying to acclimate to one another. It was miraculous how his body fit perfectly into mine. An excruciating pain and a blissful connection spread through me at the same time. Never had I imagined that my first time would be like this. Agony and ecstasy mixed together. What a strange combination. As we kissed with his breath inside of me, I only thought of him. Nothing and no one else occupied my mind.

At dawn, when he was preparing to leave, he hugged me tightly to his heart. I could feel his every subtle movement, his softness underneath the hard muscle of his strength, and the full heat of what he had inside of him.

"I'll be back as soon as I can, Valentina," he muttered, his throat tight.

"I'm going with you," I proclaimed.

"What?"

"I heard about women traveling with the soldiers."

"You mean the _soldaderas_?"

"Yes."

"But—"

"I'm going with you."

"Valentina—"

"I'm going."

Leonardo frowned. "You can't come with me. It's dangerous."

"I don't care."

"General Villa doesn't like women in the ranks. He says it slows us down and keeps the men from focusing."

"I don't care what Villa thinks."

"Be reasonable, Valentina. It's just too dangerous."

"You're there," I stated, angry peaks in my voice. "Isn't it dangerous for you too?"

"It's different for me."

"How is that?" I asked with my hands on my hips.

"It just is," he said uncomfortably.

"Because you're a man?"

"That's not it," he frowned.

"Then what is it?"

"Please understand, Valentina," he stated, his eyes firmly on mine. "I just don't think I could go on if something happened to you."

"How do you think I'd be if something happened to you?"

His eyebrows knit together, and his dark eyes flickered at me. "Do you really care?"

"After last night, how can you ask me that question?" I questioned, an irritated tone to my voice.

"There's too much of a past for me not to ask if you care," he declared.

I cradled his solemn face in my hands. "Leonardo, please leave the past where it is."

"How can I?"

"You have to if you want our marriage to survive."

"I hope that someday I can believe that Lucio is gone."

"He is," I insisted.

"Is he really?"

"There are no traces of the runaway horse anywhere. It's gone."

"Maybe after I come back from the revolution, we'll—"

I wrapped my arms around his neck. "I'm not letting you go back to the war without me."

"Please, I'm begging you, don't come with me. Stay here. Stay safe."

"It's my country too. Don't I have a right to see what I can do to serve it?"

"Valentina—"

"You're going to leave me again? Abandon me? Didn't you say you'd never do what Lucio did?"

His face started twitching angrily. "I'm not abandoning you! Don't compare me to Lucio."

"Then don't act like him."

"I'm trying to keep you safe."

"I'm safer with you."

"Valentina, you are so frustrating!"

"I'm going."

With the loud objections from my parents and my husband, I stubbornly managed to go with him. For the long road on his horse, he barely said anything to me but I knew I was doing the right thing.

I knew it.

Chapter 44

Before Valeria left, Dr. O'Leary asked her how her relationship with Leonel was progressing.

"It's been good," she replied.

"No more nervous attacks."

"No, I don't freak out about our wedding anymore. These sessions with you are working a miracle," she declared.

"Great," Dr. O'Leary said, pleased that if she hadn't been able to be truthful with her, at least she was helping Valeria in some strange way.

Even with Leonel's ridiculous jealousy of his cousin, things are going well," laughed Valeria.

"What?"

"Leonel's cousin is very outgoing and flirtatious, and Leonel misinterprets complements."

"Other than that, your relationship with him is going well?" asked Dr. O'Leary.

"The only thing is . . ."

"What is it, Valeria?"

"I still feel an uneasy twinge in the pit of my stomach about marrying Leonel."

"It's normal to have pre-wedding jitters."

"I guess so, especially for a woman of my age who has never been married."

"Getting married is a complete change of life," Dr. O'Leary sighed, knowing she would never be where Valeria was at. Enzo would never propose.

"Yes, a complete change."

"So how are your wedding plans going?"

"We're still working on setting a date, but everything is fine.

Chapter 45: Valentina

It was a tough life, going from town to town and scrounging for food and other basic necessities. We would stay in abandoned buildings (sometimes they'd be in ruins), in train cars after we took over them, or simply out in the open. Some of us were lucky enough to have tents. We cooked over fires we made from twigs we could find, trying to make a home out of practically nothing.

For those of us staying at camp, away from the battlefields, it was a surreal nightmare to watch our men go to war and wondering if they'd ever come back. Not all women stayed behind. They were the fearless ones who stayed close to their men at all times or who fought as soldiers.

Women undertook different roles in the revolution—some were caretakers of their husbands, some sold meals, some even bargained their bodies away to the weary warriors, and some actually went to battle. General Villa absolutely despised that so many women were braver than his own male soldiers! He hated cowardice in any way.

We were called _soldaderas, Adelitas,_ or other names, but we were simply women trying to find fairness in a world turned upside down. Most of us weren't there for glory because we weren't given any. We did what we had to do with a longing to bring peace and harmony to a world we didn't create.

I wish I could've been like those brave women who actually went to battle. Some of them dressed up like men and made everyone think they were males, even pretending to shave non-existent beards in the mornings, so they could keep fighting without being taken out of the ranks. Certain _soldaderas_ even became generals—their passion for justice was so strong. Still there were others who picked up their dead husband's weapons and started shooting. And there were times General Villa would order the women off the front lines but as soon as he turned his head, the women would run to the forefront.

I wasn't one of these remarkable ladies because early on Leonardo made his plea.

"Please stay at camp while I'm in battle," he asked of me.

"I don't want to stay behind."

"Valentina, can't you do as I ask at least once?"

I let out a frustrated breath. "I have to do my part." Rage and contempt for the lack of equality and fairness had festered in me for so long that this would be an opportunity to let it all out—to finally see justice taking form.

"I won't be able to concentrate during battle with you there."

"What?"

"If you're killed by accident . . ."

"We already went over this," I stated. "I have to live every day with the possibility of you getting killed. Why is it okay for me to worry and not you?"

"Because . . ."

"Because what?" I demanded to know.

"You're much stronger than I am."

"What?"

He stared at me straight in the eyes. "If I got killed, you'd make it through but if you got killed, I'd die with you."

"Leonardo—"

"So keep coming to the battlefields if you want me to lose my focus and get shot."

When he put it that way I didn't have much of a choice but to stay at camp and do whatever I could from there. I did, however, help with the injured after the fighting ended and made it to what I would secretly call the death grounds.

Death grounds.

I just couldn't get all those lifeless bodies out of my head. I grew so tired of the smell of death. What a waste it was! Human beings with so much potential dead on the ground, one after another. Those they left behind crying bloody tears. _Why?_ All because we couldn't share what God had given us. All because the takers wanted more, claiming God had put them in the position of power while assigning the rest of us the roles of servants. As if God was a bad parent, placing some of His children in a position to abuse His others!

If I sounded bitter, it was because I learned so much being so close to the killing. And while it was a necessary evil, all wars were evil nonetheless. Benita, who had been a schoolteacher, started teaching us to read and write. With her, we started sharing knowledge.

"All through history," Benita said, "men have created wars. Unfortunately, it is their world we live in."

She would tell us about the many battles the world had known, why they were fought, the power that was sought, and who actually benefited.

Leonardo would share my frustration at learning about some of the worst traits in human beings. The truth of knowledge can set you free but before it does that, it sits on you like a heavy ocean waiting for you to wade through it and discover all its dangers and beauty.

"I wish there was another way to get our country back," he stated after a particular brutal battle.

I sighed. "But there isn't."

The dream of a democracy that Leonardo and I shared where even the most destitute had a say in their government kept our resolve strong under the direst of circumstances.

He ran his fingers through my long, curly locks. "What did Benita teach you today?" he asked, trying to get our minds off the bloody battle.

"She just started teaching us the alphabet. I still have a long way to go before I learn to read."

"Bringing knowledge into this world instead of death," he sighed.

"She's a good teacher."

She's so lucky to be able to do what she does," he said wistfully.

At night, in our tent, we'd hold each other. His rough skin rubbed against my softness and his touch sent waves of emotion through me. Having him inside of me no longer hurt like it had the first times we had made love. I no longer bled or felt any excruciating pain. Instead, I felt at home—back in our vegetable shack instead of in the middle of a war. Leonardo's body was my sanctuary.

"After the revolution is over, we'll go back to Cevallos and start our family," he mentioned once, after being inside of one another. I rested my head on his arm, and he kissed my head.

"I want many children."

"I know," he said, a smile in his voice.

"I hated being an only child."

"I'm glad I was one," he blurted, his voice suddenly icy.

"What?"

"I wouldn't have wished my life on a brother or a sister," he said bitterly. "Not with the uncle I had."

"He was a terrible person," I stated, trying to soothe him. I ran my hands over his arms as they held me.

"I'll never do to my family what he did to me."

"Our children will be well taken care of."

"Even if I have to work from sunup to sundown, they'll never know the hardships I've known."

That husband of mine—he was special.

Chapter 46: Valentina

The day that Gregoria arrived at camp, I was both glad and unhappy at the same time. Glad to see a familiar face from the past and unhappy that Gregoria Siquieros was a link to a time I never wanted to re-visit. She was part of a whole era of mine that was dead and buried. Having been Delfina's chaperone, she had gone with the Montenegro family to the United States. She was back in Mexico.

"Are you going to ask her?" grumbled Leonardo, his eyebrows scrunched together.

"Why do you think she's here?" I asked, surprised at the roughness of his voice.

He let out a frustrated breath. "I'm not talking about that."

"What are you talking about?

"You know what."

"I don't know what you mean."

" _Him_ ," he mumbled.

"Lucio?" I asked.

"Yes."

"I can't believe you're asking me if I want to know about Lucio," I growled. Leonardo's ever present mistrust of me, after all we had gone through together, wounded me deeply.

"Aren't you curious to see what happened to your great love?"

"Leonardo—"

"Don't you want to know how his marriage to Delfina is going?" he asked quietly.

"No! I already told you that I didn't want to know anything about him."

Leonardo eyed me carefully. I stared straight into him. After a few seconds, he turned around and walked away. I watched him until he was out of my sight.

Just as I had feared, seeing Gregoria had brought back the insecurities bubbling inside of Leonardo. It had stripped us of our present and taken us back the past. We were strangers again.

It took a good part of an hour for me to gather my nerve to go up to Gregoria to greet her. I couldn't ignore her just because my husband didn't trust me. My parents had shown me manners and even though I wouldn't engage her in a conversation about her stay in the United States with Delfina and Lucio, I still needed to welcome her to the camp. That was the right thing to do.

As soon as I approached her, her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open. Apparently, she was as surprised to see me as I was to see her. "Gregoria," I said, "how are you?"

"What are _you_ doing here?" she snapped, her light brown eyes narrowing.

"What?"

"Why are you here?" she asked, her tone with a fiery edge.

"I'm here with my husband," I responded, puzzled.

"You should've never come here," she grunted. "You should've stayed in Cevallos."

"Gregoria—"

"Why don't you go back?!" She turned her back to me and scrambled away, leaving me with an astonished expression on my face. Her caramel braids abruptly jumped up and down her back as she fled. _First my husband dashes off and now her_. What was going on?

After that first disastrous encounter, Gregoria would not speak to me at all. I'd give her the day's greeting, but she would turn her face and ignore me.

"What's gotten into you? Why are you acting this way?" I asked her.

She looked at me furiously before scampering away, leaving me with unspoken words in my mouth. I started noticing, however, that while she refused to speak to me, she had no such aversion to my husband. When he'd be returning to camp, she'd always be close to where he tied his horse.

"Why does she talk to you and not to me?" I asked Leonardo.

He shrugged his shoulders.

"What does she talk to you about?" I questioned, my arms crossed in front of me.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Yes."

I shook my head, annoyed. "When I see her with you, she seems to be moving her mouth. She's telling you something, isn't she, or is she talking to your horse?"

"Of course she's not talking to my horse."

"Then what is she saying to you?"

"I don't remember what she talks about. Probably nonsense."

"But—"

"I don't want to talk about her."

"Leonardo—"

"Enough."

Something odd was definitely going on. Gregoria wasn't talking, and my husband wasn't either. What was it?

What?

Chapter 47: Valentina

Waiting was the excruciating part—the part those of us who stayed at camp dreaded with everything we had inside of us. I busied myself by cooking the goat meat that Chencha, the wife of another soldier, had shared with all of us. A _campesino_ had given her the meat to support the revolution.

As I put the pan over the open fire I had created with a few twigs and branches, I tried to shut all thoughts of the battle out of my head. But I kept envisioning my Leonardo with bullets flying all around him, the chaos of bombs exploding, and people dying.

Yes, waiting was excruciating. Waiting for our hearts to stop frantically beating, waiting for the battle to end, and waiting to see who had been killed.

When the first of the troops finally arrived from a battle in which our soldiers were outnumbered by a large margin, I stood very still—hardly breathing at all. They got off their horses and were met by excited loved ones. As soon as I saw Leonardo riding into camp, I unclenched my fist over my heart and felt the blood rush through my body. I started running to him as he tied his horse to a makeshift post but then Gregoria, who was much closer to him than I was, got to him first.

"Thank goodness you're alive," I heard her gush as she wrapped her arms around him. I stopped in my tracks, and his startled eyes went straight to me. He abruptly took her arms off him, but I turned around anyway and went back to where I had come from. Fuming, I tried not to let my feelings show. It's not that I didn't want to punch her, but Leonardo would probably stop me before I did and keeping my tempestuous tongue in check had always been a priority for me.

That evening, while celebrating the victory of the battle, I sat with Chencha. Her husband, Fulgencio, played his guitar with unbridled passion and was much better than the other musicians. He sang one _corrido_ after another, making those ballads come alive as they told the stories of the revolution. Fulgencio might've been a soldier by profession but was a musician by heart. Chencha gazed proudly at her husband.

My own spouse had sat with other men since I had refused to sit with him. It wasn't long that the hateful Gregoria squeezed herself into the space next to my husband. Even in the dark of the night with only a bonfire to light us, I could still see her flirtatious posturing.

Enough was enough! She was making a fool out of me. As I started striding up to them, the camp became silent and the music stopped. My eyes, the _evil_ ones the Sevilla daughters were terrified of, dug into her. Before I was able to arrive where she and Leonardo were, she swiftly scrambled up and scampered away. People guffawed while Leonardo looked embarrassed. I shook my head while returning to my place. The lively music started again as I sat back down.

"She's a worm," Chencha blurted, her voice slightly slurred from the alcohol she was drinking. "I know how you must feel with her trying to worm herself into your man."

"Why doesn't she get together with someone who isn't taken?" I snapped. "There are a lot of single men who want to be with her."

"That's what I told her before—" But Chencha had cut herself off with a horrified expression on her face.

"Before what?"

"Nothing," she said nervously.

"You were about to say something," I insisted, my attention fully piqued.

"Don't pay attention to me. I'm drunk and don't know what I'm saying."

"Tell me what you were about to say, Chencha," I demanded. "I need to know."

"But—"

"Tell me!"

She stared glumly at me for a few seconds and then finally spoke. "Okay, I'll tell you—only because you're forcing me to. I really didn't want to cause any trouble for you and Leonardo, and I didn't want to get in your business."

"I understand, but you have to tell me."

"I told that slippery woman she shouldn't be after Leonardo. I told her this a long time ago."

"A long time ago? When?"

Chencha cleared her throat. "She was with us before."

"Before?"

"Before you came. Then she left when her sister's husband died in Torreon. We thought she'd stay with her sister, but she came back."

"I can imagine why she came back," I snapped. Gregoria had sat so close to my husband that she had been practically on his lap. "Chencha," I mumbled.

"Yes?"

"I need to ask you something, and you need to answer me honestly."

"What is it?"

"Don't you dare lie to me," I demanded.

"What do you need to know?"

"Did you ever see Leonardo and Gregoria . . . together?"

"Together?"

"Having an affair," I blurted.

"No, Valentina. No."

"Tell me the truth."

She sighed. "Look, I can tell you that they did spend a lot of time together. Gregoria was always sniffing around where he was at."

"So they _did_ have an affair," I ascertained, the words poison in my mouth.

"No, I don't think so."

"You don't?"

"To be honest with you, Leonardo never seemed really into her," Chencha assured.

"No?"

"No. Sometimes I could've sworn he was avoiding her."

"He was?" I asked.

"As far as I could tell. I really don't think your husband's been unfaithful to you."

"You never saw them kissing?"

"No."

"You never saw anything intimate between them? Anything at all?"

"No. Like I said, I don't think your husband cheated on you."

But there was a lot Chencha didn't know about us. She didn't know about Lucio or about Leonardo's obsession with the past. He could've slept with Gregoria out of spite or loneliness.

GR-R-R-R!

Chapter 48: Valentina

It might've been unbelievable that with so much tragedy going on around me, I'd let petty jealousy enter my heart but I did. I couldn't help having such twisted feelings. It was inevitable with Gregoria always watching us or to be more accurate—watching Leonardo. Wherever he went, there she was like Delfina had once done with Lucio. She had picked up the annoying puppy-dog habit without considering that she had once criticized her employer for it. When I finally confronted Leonardo about it, he chuckled.

"Why would you be jealous of her?" he guffawed.

"This isn't funny," I fumed.

He rolled his dark eyes. "She's just lonely, that's all. She thinks she likes me because of it."

"Leonardo—"

"You're making too much out of it."

"But—"

"Don't be silly."

I was losing patience. "Leonardo, are you or are you not having an affair with her?"

His smile fell off his face and he eyed me with knit eyebrows that had abruptly come together. "Would it matter?"

"What?"

"You've got no moral ground to stand on when you were unfaithful to me by keeping that heart necklace for so long."

"I was never physically unfaithful to you, Leonardo," I said with gritted teeth, "like maybe you were with me."

"What do I care if you never betrayed me with your body when your heart did it so completely?!"

Words died inside of me with the frustration I was feeling. As much as I tried to open my mouth and respond to him, nothing came out.

After a few silent moments, with the shrieking of the quiet hanging over us, I finally spoke. "I'm sorry that I hurt you, I'm sorry that it took me so long to get beyond the past, and I'm sorry that you'll never be able to forgive me about the necklace. I know what you said is true—I don't have a moral ground to stand on but still, I'm not going to share you with Gregoria. I'm not going to stand for this."

Leonardo gazed at me solemnly as if trying to figure out what to do with the situation.

"You need to pick between us," I informed him, fuming. "Decide what you want—our marriage or a life with her. You can't have us both, and you can't be cheating on me! I won't stand for it!"

He gently put his hands on my shoulders and sat his dark eyes on mine. "Valentina, I'm not having an affair with her. When would I do it? I'm either at the battlefield or with you. Think about it."

Relieved, I nodded. He was right. I had let my twisted jealously block reason.

"Are you sure you don't want to be with her?" I mumbled, the words tasted like acid on my tongue. "That you want to stay with me?"

He rolled his dark eyes. "I hate that you're asking me that," he blurted. "How long have I loved you?"

"What?"

"How long have I been in love with you?" he asked, a frustrated tinge in his tone.

"I don't know. I guess—"

"Sure you know! Since we were children. Didn't I stay with my uncle just to be close to you? Didn't I pick all those flowers for you?"

"You knew you loved me even then?"

"I've never been a frivolous person. I've never _not_ known who I am or what I want from life, and I've always wanted you. Gregoria is just another person in the camp. You—you are my wife and the love of my life."

That night, when we had made explosive love that could've ignited the whole state of Chihuahua, I ran my fingers over my husband's skin, trying to feel how we belonged to each other—not like slaves but like two sides of the same coin. I stayed up long after he was sound asleep, breathing him in, when a rebel thought yanked me fully awake.

He told me he wasn't having an affair with Gregoria but . . . but . . .

Had he done it already and ended it?

My head started drowning with malignant ideas fighting each other in the most vulnerable part of me. I started to put my hand on his shoulder to wake Leonardo up but abruptly snatched it back. I was too emotional to ask him, too outside any reasoning. I'd wait until he time was right to talk to him. In the meantime, I'd comfort myself with the overwhelming love I was now very certain he felt for me.

Chapter 49: Valentina

In preparing meals over an open fire, I'd try to emulate my mother when she would make the greatest food out of practically nothing. The cooking techniques she had taught me were now more valuable than ever before. Grateful that she had shown me the value of the different uses of spices and herbs, I would be picking bits of plants everywhere we went. With aromatic oregano growing _here,_ leaves of parsley growing _there,_ and many more findings, I was able to locate delicious seasonings for my creations even if all we had that day was cactus.

Gregoria would try to seduce my husband with her dishes when she managed to procure meat, but he always bypassed her and came straight to me. One day, her blatant disrespect for my position as Leonardo's wife bothered me so much that without meaning to, I let it show when I handed a corn tortilla to my husband much too roughly.

"Why do you let her bother you?" Leonardo asked, guessing where my ill mood was coming from.

"I don't know how to not let her bother me," I growled, trying to keep my voice intact. "I'm so tired of this."

He didn't know that a few days ago I had cornered her at the river where Gregoria was doing her wash.

"Stay away from my husband," I had snapped. "Or I promise you, I'll beat the man-stealing whore out of you!"

"You don't love him," she had stated matter-of-factly.

"What stupidities are you saying?"

"I know a lot of things about you, Valentina," she had assured. "I know your secrets."

More women arrived to wash dirty clothes, and I was forced to clamp my mouth shut. What secrets did this woman know about me? Why did she say that I didn't love Leonardo with such conviction?

Since that day I hadn't been able to catch a moment alone with her. She'd scurry away when she saw me near. But even if I managed to catch up to her, would she tell me what she had meant?

Leonardo's dark eyes looked into me. "Stop letting her bother you," he repeated.

"You don't know how sick of her I am," I declared.

"Ignore her." He had been avoiding her, cutting her off when she started conversations with him, but she persisted in her predatory inclinations.

"Is it so hard to understand that I hate having her here—flirting with you and trying to steal you away from me?"

He let out a deep, long breath and eyed me for a few seconds as if not knowing what to say.

"Ask me, Valentina," he finally mumbled.

"Ask you what?"

"You've been meaning to ask me something for a while now, haven't you?"

I stared at him in shock. How did he know?

"You're eyes aren't hard to read," he stated, having read my mind.

My mouth dried out into chalky dust. "I . . . did you . . ."

"Ask me. Get it all out."

Shaking, I suddenly realized how scared I was to know the truth. "Did you have an . . ."

"Finish," he demanded.

"Did you and Gregoria . . ." It was as far as I could get with my tongue tying itself into a knot.

"No," he stated simply.

"No?"

"No," he repeated again.

"But, Leonardo, I never finished my question," I blurted, suddenly being able to speak in full sentences. "You don't know what I was asking."

He folded his arms in front of him. "You were asking if Gregoria and I had had an affair before you got here."

"How did you know—"

"I already told you. I can read your eyes."

"You know me that well?" I asked, perplexed.

"Yes."

"You didn't sleep with Gregoria?"

"No."

"But weren't you lonely? Wasn't the temptation of her throwing herself at you strong?"

He looked intently at me before speaking. "Valentina, when I was a child and my parents died, I was left with nothing except what they had taught me. That's all I had, and I was taught to keep my word. I promised on our wedding day that I would be faithful to you, and my word is stronger than anything."

"I know the kind of integrity you have," I said quietly.

"Besides," he continued, "I've never told anyone about this but . . ."

"What is it?"

"When I was a kid, I went with my uncle to this house in town. He left me outside while he went inside. After a while, he came out with this woman. He ordered me never to say anything about us being there."

"The woman was his mistress?"

"Her name was Jovita, and he would always visit her. Everything about my uncle was so ugly. He cheated on his family—the people he was supposed to take care of. I promised I'd never be like him. Never!"

I let out a heavy breath from deep inside my throat. "If you knew I was agonizing over whether you had been together with Gregoria, why didn't you put me out of my misery?"

He took his time before speaking. "I guess I wanted to hurt you like you had hurt me with Lucio."

"What?" I blurted in surprise. I had never known him to be vengeful.

"I'm sorry," he expressed, his dark eyes at their most sincere.

"I'm sorry that we keep hurting one another," I mumbled.

His hand started caressing my hair. "I've never wanted to hurt you. I've always wanted you to be happy. That's why I'd leave you the flowers and moved out of the way for Lucio because I thought he could make you happy."

I took his hand from my hair and kissed it. "I love you, Leonardo."

These first-time words had come out of my mouth smoother than stones in a river. It seemed they had been stuck inside of me desperately wanting to be set free. I had said similar words before to Lucio but never with such passionate force and overwhelming intensity.

His eyebrows knit together. "Don't say it if you don't mean it."

"I do mean it."

"You do?" he asked, surprised.

"I love you, Leonardo. You are my life."

His strong arms wrapped around me, squeezing until I was out of breath.

"You don't know how long I've waited to hear those words," he murmured.

Chapter 50: Valentina

When Gregoria realized that my husband and I no longer had arguments over her and that he would forever ignore her, she walked around deflated. Her light-brown eyes lacked shine and her once beautiful caramel hair hung limply over her shoulders, greasy and tangled. The food she cooked and sold to lonely soldiers also suffered, and they complained that her meals lacked flavor.

One of them announced, "I might as well eat dirt. It would taste better."

I finally got the chance to talk to her one day when we were left alone at the camp.

"We need to finish that conversation we started at the river," I snapped.

"Why don't you go back home?" she cried. "Why are you even here?"

"You're the one who should leave," I responded furiously. "What a low woman you are trying to take away my husband right from under my nose! Don't you have any shame?"

"You don't love him," Gregoria blurted, her voice breaking. "I love him, but you love someone else."

"What are you talking about?"

"You love Lucio Sevilla! That's the man you love!"

"What?" She almost knocked me over with her announcement.

"You thought I didn't know, right?" she continued. "But I know everything. I know that you had a secret love, I know that he gave you a heart-shaped necklace that you always wore, and I know that he asked you to marry him, but you changed your mind at the last minute."

"How . . . how do you know all that?" I mumbled.

"Lucio told me."

"Lucio?"

Then she told me the story—the one I had told my husband I never wanted to hear. It was a tale marked with tragedy, sadness, and tears. Unfortunately, I was at the center of this whirlwind and when Gregoria started explaining what had happened, I was not able to tear myself away.

When Lucio had married into the Montenegro family, he hadn't actually known what he had gotten himself into. Gregoria had been a servant in the Montenegro household since she had been fourteen years old, so she knew all their dark secrets. As it turned out, Delfina's family had lost all their wealth through a bad management of money a long time ago. They had to move back to the hacienda next to the Sevilla one because they had lost their home in Europe. Keeping their financial status a secret, Don Timoteo had set about finding rich husbands for his daughters. Fortunately, Delfina had fallen in love with a good prospect.

Don Timoteo took his family to the United States, hoping his fortune would change and knowing the Sevilla family would soon join them. His good friend, Don Clemencio, was as anxious as he was for Lucio to marry Delfina.

Lucio arrived in the United States looking lost and weary—very unlike his jovial self. Delfina's kindness and his family's insistence that he form a union with her wore him down. He married her in a barely put together ceremony and started drinking soon after. No one could snatch the bottle away from his hands. It was during one of his drunken bouts that he told Gregoria the story of his great love. Eventually, Lucio got word about what had happened to his father. Leonardo had known Lucio's address through a letter from Doña Clotilde in Don Clemencio's pocket. He had sent a friend to El Paso to tell him about Don Clemencio's death.

"Leonardo did that?" I asked, surprised.

"He's such a considerate person," answered Gregoria.

Lucio quickly headed for Juarez with Gregoria and a male servant for the body of his father. After the shock of seeing Don Clemencio dead and giving him a Christian burial, he refused to return to El Paso until he spoke to Leonardo. When receiving the message, Leonardo didn't hesitate to meet with Lucio. He soon arrived at the empty courtyard behind the hotel where Lucio was staying.

"I'm sorry about your father," said Leonardo.

"Thank you for sending me word," Lucio solemnly expressed, his voice shaky and already infused with the injection of alcohol. Out of respect for his father, though, he had drunk far less than usual. "We wouldn't have known what had happened if it wasn't for you."

"I've got to get back," Leonardo asserted, turning away, "and you should get back across the border."

"Wait," Lucio blurted and Leonardo turned back to face him.

"Yes?"

Lucio swallowed hard. "I've got to ask you something."

"What?"

"About Valentina."

"What about her?" Leonardo asked defensively.

"Do you know how she is?"

"She's fine," asserted Leonardo, his voice taking on a rigid tone.

"Is she?" he questioned anxiously.

"Yes, fine."

"She's with her parents?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes."

The relief was visible on his face. "So she hasn't gotten married," he blurted, more to himself than to anybody in particular.

"You don't know?" asked Leonardo, surprised.

"Know what?"

"Valentina is married," stated Leonardo, harshness in his voice.

Lucio's face crumbled as if he had been gut punched. "She is?"

"Yes."

"She couldn't be, she just couldn't be," he repeated over and over again. "How can she be married?"

"Why not?" asked Leonardo. "You got married, didn't you?"

"I married a woman I didn't love. Who did she marry?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Who?" Lucio demanded.

Leonardo stepped closer to him. "Me."

"You?" A complete disbelief was visible in Lucio's words.

"Yes, me," Leonardo retorted.

Lucio took a step closer to him, putting himself face to face with an unflinching Leonardo. "How could she have married you?"

"She did," he affirmed, not retreating.

"But she loves me!" Lucio blurted. "She'll never love you! Never!"

A furious Leonardo swung the first punch, cracking Lucio's jaw. Lucio was thrown back with the force of a hurricane but quickly recovered and started swinging back, his fists in knurled balls. But his strength and fighter's instincts couldn't compare to Leonardo's who soon had him on the ground.

"Stop," Gregoria pleaded with Leonardo. "You're going to kill him."

Leonardo woke up from his frenzied fury and got off of Lucio. Both fighters tried to catch their ragged breaths and wipe off the blood and sweat from their faces. They didn't say a word, just glared at each other. After a few moments of ugly silence, Leonardo, already being on his feet, turned around to leave.

"You should've killed me!" yelled Lucio, his voice caught in valley of pain. "My life is already over anyway."

After that, Gregoria and the other servant took Lucio back to El Paso where he doubled up on his drinking. The secret the Montenegro family had been harboring so carefully finally came out, and there was nothing but misery in the house. The last of the money was almost gone, Lucio's sisters went around in a fog over their lost fortune and status, and Delfina sobbed continuously that her husband threw in her face that he didn't love her. All the servants were eventually dismissed because of the lack of funds to pay them. Gregoria ended up in Mexico again and selling food to the soldiers to be able to sustain herself.

"That's when I got to know Leonardo and what a great man he is," Gregoria sighed. "I always liked him from the hacienda days, but he never talked to me back then."

"I never knew that he and Lucio had confronted each other," I muttered, still shocked over the story she had told me.

"That's why I'm telling you now—so that you know."

"Know what?" asked Leonardo, having just arrived with a slew of others to the campsite. His eyes went from her to me with concern as he stepped over to where I was standing.

"I told her about what happened with Lucio when his father died."

He frowned deeply. "Why did you do that, Gregoria?"

"Valentina has a right to know," she insisted strongly. "I'm going to tell her everything, even about how close we were getting when she arrived to ruin it."

"You and I were never close," he snapped. "You know damn well we never lay together."

"There are other types of intimacy."

"You can never have what Leonardo and I have," I declared furiously.

"What do you have?" Gregoria asked, her mouth in disgust. "He has to live his life wondering about you and Lucio."

"It doesn't matter anymore," Leonardo affirmed strongly. "We've already made our peace with everything."

"I don't see how!" she retorted, her composure becoming at its most erratic. "How can you have so little pride to be with someone who loves someone else?"

"I do love Leonardo," I announced.

She vehemently shook her head. "How can you believe her, Leonardo?"

"I do believe her," he asserted, his voice as steady and firm as I had ever heard it. "This conversation is over."

"But—"

"Gregoria, you need to leave us alone. Let's go Valentina."

"But she's making a buffoon out of you, Leonardo. Don't be a fool!"

"Stop it, Gregoria," Leonardo demanded. "Stop setting my wife against me and me against her. It's not going to work. Stay away from us—you and the trouble you're trying to cause."

"But Leonardo—"

"Stay away!"

"Don't do this to me," Gregoria begged with desperation. "Don't treat me this way."

"I have to put an end to all of this," he explained. "You've got to respect my wife, Gregoria. You can't be trying to get in between us."

"But I love you Leonardo—much more than she claims to love you."

"How would you know what I feel for my husband?" I questioned furiously.

"Let's just leave, Valentina," Leonardo insisted.

I nodded. "You're right. It's no use being here."

Gregoria grabbed Leonardo's arm. "But—"

"Gregoria," he said sternly as he jerked his arm away, "I don't want to keep telling you to leave us alone."

"You can't humiliate me like this," she sobbed, her eyes darting to the crowd that had gathered around us. "You can't."

Leonardo looked exasperated. "Gregoria—"

She scampered to Leonardo until she was standing directly in front of him. "How can you treat me this way? All I've ever done is love you! All I've ever done is try to show you that you're the only man in my life. You would never have to share my love with anybody!"

"Gregoria—"

"I thought you were special, but I was wrong, very wrong!"

Gregoria's out-of-control emotions started to concern me. Instinctively, I stepped closer to her because something inside of me told me to do it. She ignored me as she continued to rant at my husband.

"You're a beast, an animal—"

"Calm down, Gregoria,' Leonardo entreated.

"You don't deserve to live!" she declared, and before anyone realized what she was doing, she grabbed the gun in Leonardo's holster and pointed it at him.

"Gregoria, give me the gun," Leonardo murmured softly.

"I'm going to kill you!"

Swiftly knocking the gun out of her hands, I pushed Gregoria back. The weapon went off, but the bullet exploded on the ground. Leonardo grabbed the gun while she fell to her knees sobbing and gasping for air.

"Why did you do this to me, Papa? Why?" she kept repeating over and over again.

Her _comadres_ got her off the ground and took her away, soothing her. The rest of the people at the campsite stared at her with odd expressions.

Leonardo put his hands on my shoulders. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I stated, my throat in a knot and a tremble still with me.

He kissed my forehead. "You did a very stupid thing, Valentina."

"I couldn't let her shoot you."

"She could've easily turned the gun on you."

"But she didn't."

"But she could've."

"Just thank me," I said, smiling.

"Thank you," he murmured as he planted a warm kiss on my lips.

A few hours later when we were much calmer, we ate burritos with a small amount of beef I had managed to procure. I smothered them with my specialty chipotle salsa. One of Gregoria's _comadres_ interrupted our dinner to tell us that Gregoria had left and that we shouldn't worry.

"What if she comes during the night and tries to kill you?" I asked Leonard after the _comadre_ had left, my voice shaky.

"The guards won't let her in the campsite anymore," he stated.

"I just don't understand why she got so crazy. And what was she saying about her father?"

"Her father raped her," Leonardo said gravely.

"What?"

"When she was a child, he'd take her to the corn fields. She ran away from home when she was fourteen to work for the Montenegros."

"How horrible!" I exclaimed, completely shocked. "How do you know this?"

"She told me."

"She did?"

"One day I caught her sobbing next to a river like you used to, and I couldn't help but ask her what was wrong. She said she had been living with a secret that was eating her up alive. She told me her story, and I felt sorry for her, so I'd let her stay around me. I guess she misinterpreted my feelings."

The overwhelming anger I felt for Gregoria dissipated. There's a saying that goes, _No one knows what's in the sack except for the one who carries it._

"Poor Gregoria," I murmured.

A month later, we heard that Gregoria had gone home, killed her father with a sharp pair of scissors and fled. No one knew anything about her again.

Chapter 51: Valentina

Life after Gregoria left became as calm as it could be with a war exploding all around us. Leonardo was less tense, and I didn't walk around with a constant clenched fist, ready to pounce. But calm in the middle of a tempestuous storm didn't last long because once again someone from the past reared his ugly head.

Baudilio.

That philandering, slick skunk who had tried to sweet talk me so long ago arrived at camp declaring he was ready to fight for his country and be a hero. I, of course, rolled my eyes at his exaggerated assertions of dedication to the cause. Both Leonardo and I knew the truth about him. He wanted to be the hero without actually doing anything to earn it. He wanted the accolades, the admiration, and the applause. Leonardo and I ignored him, but he wouldn't do the same with the three of us being at the same camp.

"That woman is dangerous," he said about me.

"What do you mean?" asked the pretty _soldadera_ he was speaking to.

"She hit me with a bucket," he chortled. "Of course, I couldn't fight back. I'm a gentleman."

"Why did she hit you?"

He swallowed nervously. "She hit me for no reason."

"There had to be a reason. People don't just smack one another for no reason."

He shrugged his shoulders. "I might've wanted a _little_ kiss from her."

"Were you her boyfriend?"

"No, but she liked me. I could tell."

"If she liked you she wouldn't have hit you."

After that conversation, my reputation as a tiger solidified. Between what had happened with Gregoria and Baudilio's assertions about me, I was considered an aggressive defender. Women would visit me for advice. I kept telling them I wasn't in the least bit qualified to meddle in their lives, but they still kept coming to me.

When several young women asked me what I thought about Baudilio's attempts to romance them, I told them exactly what I thought. No restraining of my tongue whatsoever. "A muddy hog would make a better boyfriend than him—even a scorpion would be less lethal."

"But, Valentina, he tells me such beautiful things. Maybe he means them."

"Do you want to be charmed out of your underclothes?" I asked bluntly and coarsely. Sometimes a person had to speak without elegance to make a point. "Or do you want a man who loves you and respects you?"

Baudilio became so infuriated with the way I had spoiled his dreams of being the great lover boy of the camp that he furiously confronted me when Leonardo was away of course.

"I don't appreciate you sticking your big nose in my business!"

"People ask me things, and I tell them how I feel," I stated nonchalantly.

"You should keep your big mouth shut!"

"Why should I?"

"I'm telling you," he menaced.

It just so happened that I had a bucket next to me with the dirty clothes I was just about to wash at the river. I was tempted, _really_ tempted, to repeat what I had done to him at the Sevilla Hacienda. I told myself to control my temper. It was already at scorching level.

"If you don't stay out of my business," he growled as he grabbed my shoulder with his claw and squeezed tightly, my skin throbbing with pain, "I'll make sure you regret it."

That did it.

My hand grabbed the bucket, and it landed on his head with a huge _'THUNK!!'_ He immediately collapsed to the ground unconscious. He gained consciousness a few minutes later and by that time all the women at camp were with me. They had seen me hit him and had rushed over. I calmly explained what happened.

"If I were you, I'd leave before all of us beat you!" retorted one of the ladies.

"Or before Leonardo kills you—whichever comes first," another woman snapped.

Baudilio scampered away—never to return to our camp.

Chapter 52: Valentina

In taking over an abandoned Hacienda, our camp went through the main house with awe. It was even more grandiose than the Sevilla home had been. The owners had just fled to the United States when they knew we were on our way to their town. Leonardo grimaced as he saw the place, remembering a past he hated as he absentmindedly touched his back. These owners were famous for having been especially cruel to their workers.

"Look at how they lived on the backs of the poor," Leonardo snapped. "They were just like my uncle. People like them deserve no mercy."

It was then that I realized the depth of Leonardo's fury towards his uncle. The horrible death of Mr. Velasquez hadn't alleviated Leonardo's bitterness towards him very much. It was probably because Leonardo hadn't had the chance to tell his uncle what he wanted to say. Unfortunately, Leonardo carried with him all the sharp words he had wanted to throw at his uncle, and they stabbed at him. The open wounds only served to infuriate him further. I didn't doubt that it was with these wounds that he found the fortitude to wound others. This cycle of hurt, though, didn't stay hidden inside of him.

During Leonardo's sleep, some of the mortal wounds he caused in others came back to haunt him, and it didn't matter who the victims were. It didn't matter if he considered those _federales_ to be enemies. Death wasn't any less tragic. He'd have horrible nightmares, and I would wake him, putting him close to my breast and caressing his hair.

That night, at the hacienda, I was hoping his dreams would be nightmare free. He hadn't been in a battle for a few days, and he seemed calm—unlike the wound up clock he usually was when he was focused on war. While everybody else stayed in the main house, Leonardo refused its seductive charms. He said a place like that with all the ghosts of the poor stuck in the walls only served to contaminate the soul. Instead, we stayed outside in the stables.

While in a deep sleep, I soon heard the familiar cries of Leonardo, and I immediately took to waking him.

"Leonardo! Leonardo!" I called out as he thrashed about.

His face was drenched in sweat and his hands were clenched in hard knots. He finally opened his eyes and sat up. I sat up with him and put my arms around him.

"Another nightmare?" I asked gently.

"It was about the boy," he said, his eyes filled with liquid.

"The boy?"

"I killed a boy—he must've been only fifteen years old," he mumbled, his voice shaking.

"What?"

"I didn't mean to," he stammered. "It just happened."

"You hadn't told me about this."

"I couldn't . . . I just couldn't."

"What happened?" I asked, caressing his back where his whip marks were still viciously visible _. Why wouldn't they disappear?_

"The boy came towards me with a _machete_ , and I kept telling him to stop but he wouldn't," Leonardo said, taking gulps of air. "Why didn't he stop?"

"What happened next?" I questioned quietly, knowing that he had to get it all out.

"I had to stop him from slicing me open with that sharp _machete,_ " he explained, his voice broken. "I decided to shoot him on the leg—to only wound him, but someone bumped me from the back, and I ended up shooting him in the heart. . . Valentina, he looked straight at me before he died and I just can't get those terrified, light-green eyes out of my head." A sob got stuck in his throat. "I see them everywhere."

I hugged Leonardo tighter, not knowing what to say.

"Someone yelled, 'Manuel!' . . . Manuel . . . The enemy is not a monster, Valentina. It's human beings killing human beings."

We held each other for a long time, not doing anything but being close to one another. He snuggled within my wild hair as I took refuge in his strong arms.

"You're all I've got," he whispered.

"Leonardo—" I started to say but his lips locked onto mine—gently at first but then suddenly with a ferociousness that would bruise my lips for several days afterward. He quickly undressed me and I undressed him because we needed to be inside of one another. It wasn't just about the ecstasy of the heat of our bodies finding satisfaction. I needed to feel him like he needed to feel me in a world of disconnection and chaos, in a world of loss and confusion. We needed to know we were there for each other.

As he dug inside me, trying to get all of himself enveloped within my womanhood, I could feel the heat in his skin escalating so much that it almost burned me. I could feel his essence spill inside of me. And in that instant I knew.

Yes, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it happened then—the miracle of life.

Weeks after, when I started feeling dizzy and my stomach couldn't keep anything down, not even the delicious chocolates we were able to procure so rarely, it came of no surprise to me. I already knew way before these symptoms appeared that a child grew inside of me, a new life conceived of love and out of the pain of another child who had tragically died at the hands of my guilt-ridden husband.

"You've got to go to your parents' home," Leonardo demanded when I finally told him.

I had tried to keep it from him because I knew how he would react, but he had noticed the fainting spells and thought I had a serious illness. I had to confess in order to ease him.

"No," I said simply.

"Don't be stubborn about this! You're going."

"I'm not."

"Valentina—"

"I'm staying."

"Please," he pleaded when he figured that trying to cajole me wouldn't work.

"I'm staying."

"I don't want our child born in the middle of a battlefield!"

"I don't want our child born without you."

"Valentina, you're going to your parents' house even if I have to drag you there," he declared.

"Just try to get me to do anything against my will," I smirked.

He was so angry with me that he didn't speak to me for three days, but the loneliness got to him. While he had many people to converse with, I was the only one who really understood him. I was the only one that he didn't need to speak complete sentences to. I was the only one who could sense the deepness of his emotions.

As the months went by and my womb grew, the pestilence of death that was always close by stopped having such a twisted vice-like grip on me. In the middle of all this chaos, a life was growing—a life that was an extension of Leonardo and myself.

Chapter 53: Valentina

"Don't worry about the birth," announced Katalina, the wife of the newest soldier. "I'm a midwife. I've brought many babies into this world."

We soon became close friends. Katalina was an incredible listener, and she always asked questions to get others to talk about themselves instead of monopolizing the conversations. She had her own sad story as most people do. Her good _amiga_ had dressed up as a man and had been killed in the battlefield only a few days before we met. Out of her desolate loneliness, we became friends. I could never replace her friendship with Julia but would help ease her pain of having lost her. Katalina, in turn, helped alleviate my own concerns about having a baby. She had become a midwife when she and her husband were unable to conceive, but they had made a decision to adopt a child after the revolution was over.

"So many children are left without parents," she sighed. "Enrique and I can give some of them a good home."

Katalina adored her husband—a gentle man who was passionate about justice like my own spouse. She laughed when she told the story of how her parents had practically forced her to accept him. When she had first met him, she wasn't attracted to Enrique at all. He was solemn while the man she wanted was like a peacock—strutting around and wooing the girls of the village. Because she had so much competition, this peacock paid very little attention to her, and she deeply resented Enrique's quiet attempts to romance her. Her parents kept trying to reason with her, telling her what a wonderful young man he was, but she wouldn't listen. She'd spend whole afternoons pinning for the peacock. Finally, Enrique made her face him.

"Katalina," he exploded. "I'm getting tired of your attitude towards me. I may not be slick and silver-tongued but I don't deserve how you treat me, especially since all I want to do is love you."

Katalina's mouth opened wide with the surprise of how he had expressed himself. "I'm sorry if I've been rude to you."

"You'd better listen because I'm only saying this once. I'm not playing any more games with you. I may not be your idea of the perfect man but let me tell you what I am—I'm hardworking, honest, and respectful. If you let me into your life, I promise that you'll never lack for love from me. I'll cherish you always."

"You will?" Katalina's interest was fully piqued. She was at the end of her rope with the peacock ignoring her.

"Yes, and I mean it. Another thing you'll learn about me is that I don't say anything I don't mean. "

When I had asked Katalina if Enrique had delivered on his promise, she had smiled and said that he had turned out to be exactly who he said he'd be. Then she told me some very private secrets she trusted me with. Enrique had had a broken heart before meeting Katalina. A woman he was deeply in love with had left him all of the sudden, and he had promised he'd never fall in love. When he saw Katalina for the first time, he fell for her. It was love at first sight. He finally asked her to marry him after he realized she wasn't anything like the woman who had abandoned him.

Even though he hadn't been wealthy, it didn't matter to her parents who were moderately well-to-do. They saw him for what he was—an extraordinary man. Now she saw it too. What Katalina didn't have a way of knowing was that fate was about to deal her a devastating blow—a blow she would never recover from.

Chapter 54

Dr. O'Leary couldn't help staring at Leonel. He had come to the office to pick Valeria up since she had loaned her vehicle to her mother. Dr. O'Leary felt as enthralled as a fan meeting her favorite movie star. It was as if she was reading an engrossing romantic novel , and the hero had come to life. She smiled brightly at Leonel's handsome good looks.

"What are your plans for tonight?" asked Dr. O'Leary.

"We're going to an office party at my work," he said, smiling.

"What do you do?"

"I'm a stockbroker."

"I'm afraid I've never been very good with numbers."

"Neither am I," stated Valeria.

"We're celebrating an expansion. My firm is growing by leaps and bounds."

Dr. O'Leary nodded. "An office party—that'll be fun."

Valeria scrunched her face. "I don't like parties very much."

"She's being a good sport about going," Leonel said, smiling adoringly at her.

"It wouldn't look good for Leonel if we didn't show up," Valeria stated, chuckling.

After they left, Dr. O'Leary stood at her wall sized window and sighed as she saw the busy beehive below. She wouldn't have another appointment for another hour. _Why am I becoming more dissatisfied with my life?_

The rest of the afternoon was clear of patients, so Kate decided to go home. When she arrived at her house, Enzo was already there, busily checking paperwork.

"Hi, Katie," he said, looking up from his work. "How was your day?"

"Fine, and yours?"

"School let out early. My students were thrilled," he said, chuckling.

"You should've told me you were off," Kate rushed.

"It didn't occur to me."

"I would've closed my office early," she expressed. "I could've kept you company."

"Katie, I needed time to myself," he said lightly.

"Why do you always exclude me?" she asked sadly, the rawness that had been left when her skin was stripped of its top layer by Lindsey's death stung her painfully.

"I don't."

"You do," Kate stated, sighing.

"I don't always exclude you. There's a lot we do together."

"You keep me at arm's length."

"I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"Katie," he said, exasperated. "How many times can we go over the same stuff?"

Hot tears stung her eyes. "Do you have to be so much to yourself?"

He rubbed her tears with his fingers. "That's who I am, Katie."

She nodded disconcertedly. The woman who had left him high and dry a few days before their wedding had thoroughly shredded his heart. After devastating him, he had shown up at the woman's doorstep, full of shocked disbelief and wanting an explanation over the _Dear John_ message on his answering machine. Refusing to leave until she opened the door, he had waited impatiently yelling and pounding on the door until she finally opened it. Unbeknownst to him, she had hidden a knife behind her back, worried at how crazy Enzo seemed to have gotten. When he had lunged towards her, she had plunged the knife in. Enzo had never pressed charges and refused to talk about it. In fact, Kate had learned about the incident from an old friend of Enzo. It had explained a great deal about Enzo's commitment issues.

"Yes, it's who you are," Kate murmured.

He nodded. "I wish you'd understand."

"I'm sorry. I know I keep saying this, but I just feel so lost right now."

"I'm the one who should apologize. I'm sorry, Katie. I know what a bad time you're going through, but I just need some space."

"I know," she said quietly. After five years together, she knew who he was.

At the very start of their relationship, he had made himself very clear about what he wanted out of life.

"I want you to understand something very important about me," he had stated, his eyes firmly on her.

"What is it?"

"I want you to understand that I never want to get married or have children."

"You don't?" she had asked, shocked.

"No."

"But, sweetheart—"

"It's got to be clear to you that I won't change my mind. I don't want you to have any false hopes."

"Why don't you want to have a family?"

"I just don't," he had stated.

"But how do feel about me?"

"Katie, I have deep feelings for you. As long as we're together, I'll always be faithful to you and try to do right by you."

He had kept his word. He had been faithful and kind, but he never wanted to get married. It was not long after that conversation that she had learned about what had happened with his ex-fiancée. Kate decided she loved him enough to stay with him, unlike other women before her, and see it through.

Much later that night, when they had made sweet love and he was sound asleep next to her, she decided she had to try harder at not crowding him with all the raging agony of the death of her best friend burning a gaping hole inside of her.

Chapter 55: Valentina

It was a day like any other. The sun didn't shine brighter, the dirt didn't crack more than usual, the air wasn't any less sweltering, but Katalina would later say that she should've known something was about to hit that day because of the last words that popped out of Enrique's mouth before going off to battle.

"I'm sorry," he had said.

"Why?"

"I should've never taken you out of your comfortable home and brought you here."

"What's bringing this on?" Katalina asked, concerned. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Lately, I've been feeling very selfish when I see how hard you work."

Katalina put her hand on his cheek. "I'm happy wherever you are."

"I should've never married you and brought you so much hardship."

"If I would've known about your snoring . . .," she teased.

"You would've been much better off without me."

"Maybe but who would put up with my cold toes at night?" she asked, still trying to make him laugh. His serious tone was unnerving her.

"You know how much I love you, don't you?"

"You only love me because I cook those tacos you love so much."

Enrique didn't even crack a smile. "I love you."

Those were his last words to her because soon after, he caught a bullet in his head and was gone just like that. It never ceased to surprise me how fragile life was—how much of a puff of wind it was. Katalina was struck speechless and for days wouldn't eat, sleep, or speak. One minute she'd stumble around with an expectant look on her face as if waiting for Enrique to come home to her and the next she'd be doubled over, in a fetal position, and squeezing her bent legs to her chest. I tried taking care of her the best that I could. Finally, one day she snapped out of her stupor and spoke as she placed her hand on my huge womb.

"This life inside of you is the only thing that keeps me going," she stated.

I hugged her.

"This war is such a waste," she snapped bitterly. "Taking our loved ones."

I knew I couldn't say anything to comfort her, so I kept hugging her.

"I should've begged him not to get involved, not to fight."

"He was a great man," I said quietly.

She nodded her head forlornly. "Yes, but he's gone now," she mumbled bitterly. "I should be getting back to my family in Durango, but I promised you I'd deliver the baby, so I'm staying until your little one decides to come out."

"Thank you, Katalina."

It would happen very soon. I was already as huge as a train and barely managed to walk. In fact, the baby almost came rushing out on the day that Leonardo gave me one of the worst scares of my life. He came home early, nonchalant, from a battle. When I asked him why he was already back, he had shrugged his shoulders and ignored my question. Then I saw a crimson color coming out of the side of his shirt. It seemed to be spreading, and I rushed to him.

"What's that?!" I yelled as I pointed at it.

"Calm down," he ordered, his forehead filling with shiny beads of water. "I'm fine."

"What do you mean you're fine?! You're bleeding!"

"I was shot, but I've already been bandaged."

"You're bleeding through the bandages!"

He frowned, his upper lip glistening with moisture. "This is why I didn't want to tell you. You're overreacting."

"Listen, Mr. Macho," I chided, "you've been shot, you're bleeding, and it's obvious you're in awful pain. I'm getting Kati."

I made him lay down over blankets on the ground while I fetched her.

Katalina, who had a little nurse training in her background due to her midwifery, immediately took over his medical care. Taking out the bullet with a sharp knife she sterilized by gliding it over a flame, she didn't flinch at the blood. Leonardo bared it without making a noise, but he gushed perspiration. Katalina managed to stop the bleeding with herbs she picked off the ground.

"He'll be okay, Valentina."

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"I'm fine," he insisted as if he didn't know why so much fuss was made over him.

Later, when he slept, I took Katalina aside.

"I need a promise from you, Kati," I said, my eyes full of sharp intention. "I know I'm asking for too much, but you're the only one I can ask this of."

"What do you want to ask of me?"

"Death is so present all the time."

"Valentina, he didn't die."

"Any of us could die at any moment," I declared.

"Valentina—"

"Our lives aren't guaranteed."

"What are you getting at?"

"If anything happens to me—"

"Don't talk like that," Katalina said with an acute panic in her voice.

"I have to plan for the worst. I have to."

"But—"

"Listen, Kati. If anything happens to me I need you to do two things."

"Two things?"

"I need you to take my wedding ring off my finger. Please don't let them bury me with it. Take the ring to my mother."

"All right," she said, rushing her words so the conversation would stop.

"The next thing I need you to do—the most important thing is that I need you to take care of Leonardo."

"What?"

"Take care of him—he's a good man."

"I can't believe you're asking this of me!"

"You're the only one I can depend on with this."

"Valentina," Katalina said sternly. "If you died, he'd never be able to get over it. Besides, I could never take your man. You're my friend."

"Because we're such close friends, I'm asking this of you."

Katalina flung her hands up in frustration. "Stop! I don't want to talk about this anymore! Haven't we seen enough death? Haven't I suffered enough with what happened to my best friend and my loving husband? I don't want to talk about it."

"I'll stop talking about it if you promise me you'll do as I ask."

"I can't."

"Promise me!"

"I—"

"I'm not going to stop until you promise me to care for my husband _and_ child if I'm no longer here."

"But—"

"Promise me," I pleaded.

"Valentina," Katalina said sternly. "I don't appreciate you cornering me like this."

"Promise me," I insisted.

"Will you shut up if I do?"

"Yes."

"All right," she said, giving up. "I promise to take care of your family but don't die, okay?"

"I'll try my best."

Chapter 56

"You call Katalina, Kati?" asked a pensive Dr. O'Leary.

"It's a good nickname, don't you think?"

"Kati is almost like Kate or Katie," blurted Dr. O'Leary, a strange tone in her voice.

"I guess so."

"Her husband's name was Enrique, right?"

"Yes."

Dr. O'Leary sighed. The name Enrique sounded like Enzo. "Strange, very strange."

Chapter 57: Valentina

The morning of the day you die, you wake up as if it's a regular day, as if you still have eternity going for you in a body you were loaned. That day was a peaceful day—not even a day of battle.

It was five a.m. and the baby kept moving around, not letting me go back to sleep, so I woke up. Leonardo rested next to me while I stood up, unable to stay in our place of slumber. The dawn was so glorious—I had never seen one like it with an orange so bright that it shimmered as if the sky was on fire and I kept thinking, _Wouldn't it be wonderful for my child to be born on such a day?_

"Don't get near the railroad tracks," stated Fulgencio, looking a little out of place in his uniform and without his guitar. "They'll be exploding soon." He stepped away swiftly to finish whatever business he had.

Destroying the pathways was one of General Villa's tactics. I started going back to Leonardo, not liking the sound of the explosions—such chaos! But when I turned around, something caught my eye. As I focused my eyesight, I saw a little girl about five years old with hair as black as mine. And she was next to the tracks! Without hesitating, I rushed over to her as fast as my heavy body would take me. Giving her a push so she would start running, I scared her so much that she sprinted with her little legs becoming a blur in front of me. Because of my late pregnancy, I could barely move. The explosion flung me to the ground.

I stood up, shaky and disoriented. Then I realized that there was a dead body lying next to me. When I looked to see who it was, I felt sorry for the unfortunate woman. Her complete stillness unnerved me. I had the tremendous urge to shake her, to see if I could wake her up. I stepped closer to her but then abruptly jumped back.

That the poor woman was me!

I hadn't recognized my body without me in it.

Chaos ensued and Leonardo rushed to my lifeless shell screaming with such a horrible cry that the whole camp was in despair as to how to help him. Katalina stared at my motionless body, disbelief in her eyes, and frozen in her shock. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to them, I stood nearby, witnessing everything but unable to get myself seen.

Katalina finally climbed out of her stupor and checked my pulse. "Leonardo," she murmured, sobbing, "she's gone."

"No! No, she's not!" he yelled hugging me tightly to him.

She pulled out a knife from her skirt pocket that had belonged to Enrique. She constantly carried it. In a war, it was necessary to always be armed.

"We've got to try to save the baby," a sobbing Katalina explained with delicacy but with urgency.

"What?" Leonardo blurted, a half crazed look in his eyes as he tightened his hold on me.

"We've got to save the baby."

"Get away from her!"

"I've got to get the baby out," she insisted with an anguished voice as she gripped the knife in her hands.

"No!"

"We have to open her up," she pleaded.

"You'll hurt her," Leonardo snapped, his tear-stained face in a fury.

"I have to do it now," Katalina persisted. "There may be a chance of saving the baby."

"No!"

"We have to try."

"No!"

"It's what she would want," Katalina announced with mounting despair as she knelt down next to me. "We have to do this!"

It took five men to get him off of my body and hold him down. Bravely, Katalina took a knife, burned the sharp point, and opened my womb. My baby girl was born—Ofelia, the name Leonardo had already chosen to honor my mother. Ofelia's fierce cry convinced me she was healthy, and I was so grateful to Katalina for taking the right steps instead of allowing grief to drown her like my own dear husband had.

I know I should've left when I saw a white, incandescent light arrive next to me, but I couldn't go yet. I had to stay and make sure my husband and my child would be fine. I couldn't leave them under such desperate and volatile circumstances. I stayed and watched. I stayed and tried not to feel the anguish of not being in the flesh with them anymore.

Chapter 58: Valentina

Katalina lived up to her promise and took care of my family, and Ofelia grew healthier with each passing day. Unfortunately, I couldn't say the same for Leonardo because as our baby grew stronger, he grew weaker. His insides twisted in deformity as he became more and more bitter about my death. With the only light in his world being Ofelia, the only twinkle left in his eyes, he tried to flow with the progression of time.

I wished I could appear in front of him and tell him to go on with his life. Our daughter needed him whole and not the half person he had become. But I was stuck in my dimension not being able to help the people I loved.

Poor Katalina—what a heavy burden I had placed on her. She seemed so lost. Her emotions overtook her. In trying her best to nurture my family, she started placing her shattered love, those emotions left desperate when her husband had died, on Leonardo. Both men had shared several traits. When Enrique was alive, people would often confuse them as brothers. It seemed to me that she was holding on to Enrique through Leonardo, but he wouldn't respond.

"Katalina," he said, "I appreciate you taking care of my child and me, but I have to tell you that I'll always be married to Valentina. I will never be able to pull her out of my heart."

"I know she's the love of your life but she's gone," Katalina uttered quietly, thinking about how Enrique would always be the love of _he_ r life but he was dead too.

"What a disaster," muttered Leonardo. "Look at my beautiful Ofelia—without a mother."

"But I'm Ofelia's mother now."

"The mother she should've had died," he said bitterly.

How Katalina suffered. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't get Leonardo to respond to her so they could form the family viciously torn away from her when her husband had passed on. In fact, Leonardo became more distant and quiet. She carried a lot of rejection inside of her—first with her dear Enrique who took a while to warm up to the idea of marriage and then with my Leonardo. Katalina waited for the day her life would fall into a place that made sense, but that day never came. It wasn't long after my death that Leonardo, not being as focused as he usually was, caught a stray bullet in the chest.

"I'm sorry for everything," he told Katalina as he gathered his final breaths.

Katalina's tears flooded her face. "Don't die, Leonardo."

"Promise me you'll take Ofelia back to her grandparents."

"But—"

"Promise me," he asked, his voice barely audible. "They need to raise their granddaughter."

"Yes."

"I didn't treat you like I should've. I'm sorry. I wish I could make it up to you but I can't."

"Don't die, please don't die," Katalina pleaded. "Too many people have left me."

"Forgive me."

"Leonardo—"

"Valentina?" he murmured as he started to be able to see me.

"Leonardo," cried Katalina. "It's me—Katalina. It's me."

"Valentina! You're here!"

Katalina didn't comprehend what was happening to him. "Leonardo, what—"

"You're here! You're here!" he kept repeating as he stared at me.

Katalina still didn't understand that I was with them. "Leonardo—"

"I'm going with you."

"Don't go! Don't go!" Katalina begged like she had done when first seeing a lifeless Enrique.

Soon after Leonardo had passed from that life, _The Ballad of Forever_ was written and sang by Fulgencio who with the help of his well-worn guitar created the most beautiful song. He always felt partially responsible for what had happened to me since it had been his explosives that had killed me. Many musicians have played this piece, but no one sang it with such passion as Fulgencio who actually knew us.

The story of Valentina and Leonardo,

two hearts more in love

there couldn't be.

Two hearts more

doomed to tragedy,

there couldn't be.

If only they had been given another life,

A life that offered them

the gift of forever together.

His sweet song said it all. And as it became popular all throughout Mexico, lovers tucked it between their loving kisses knowing it all could be taken away much too easily. Meanwhile, Leonardo and I were together—for the moment . . .

That is my story.

Make of it what you wish.

Chapter 59

For once, Kate had arrived home before Enzo. After she had finished with Valeria/Valentina, Kate had had her administrative assistant cancel the few appointments she had left for the day. This was the second time she had done it in recent weeks, and she hated being irresponsible, but she was in no shape to listen to patients. The ending of Valentina's astonishing story had affected her more than she thought it would, and thoughts fought each other in her mind.

What would Kate do now?

Would she tell Valeria what was really going on in the sessions? Would she play the audio recordings back to her?

What'll I do?

But it was not only the problem of what to do with the information that made Kate's head swim. Valentina's story of love, loss, and an afterlife had deeply touched a nerve. Valentina had had two great loves and each had loved her back. The way she had saved her relationship with Leonardo was to put the cards on the table—to live an honest love. And there was the small matter of Katalina and Enrique. Could Kate have been in Valeria's past life? It sounded so preposterous, but it would explain Enzo's reluctance to marry her.

"You're home early," Enzo said, surprised as he stepped in the door.

"I think we need to have a heart to heart," Kate blurted, before she had a chance to lose her nerve.

Enzo raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

"About us."

He sat down next to her on the black leather sofa. "What about us?"

"I think we need to be more honest with each other."

"More honest?" he asked, baffled.

"You've got a past that's affecting our present, and you don't want to face it."

"What?"

"Enzo, I know about your ex-fiancée stabbing you."

"You know about Gloria?" he asked, his eyebrows knit together.

"I think it's time we get it out in the open."

"How did you find out?"

"Paul told me how she had broken off the engagement and how you went crazy, so she stabbed you thinking you might hurt her."

Enzo frowned deeply. "That's what Paul told you?"

"Don't worry, Enzo. I don't think less of you. I know you wouldn't have hurt her."

"That's not how it happened," Enzo explained dryly.

"No?"

"No."

Kate moved closer to him. "Then tell me how it happened."

"It doesn't matter," he blurted.

Kate sighed deeply. "We've been in this relationship long enough for you to be open with me. Sweetheart, we've got to communicate better."

"Katie, I don't want to talk about what happened with Gloria."

Kate nodded calmly. "I understand that it may be too painful to talk about, but we have to begin somewhere. Let's begin by you showing me the knife scar."

In all the years she had been with him, he had never gone shirtless in the daylight. He had kept the scar well hidden. And if it seemed odd that she'd never seen him fully naked, he acted so natural about it that gradually it had become natural to her not to take showers with him or make love during the day.

"Katie, I don't—"

"Please, Enzo. Show me the scar or our relationship will never grow."

Valentina and Leonardo's relationship had changed when she had seen his whip marks, Kate thought. Valentina had started understanding him better.

"I don't see what looking at an ugly scar can do for us," stated Enzo.

"That wound keeps you closed off to me."

"But—"

"Please , Enzo."

He frowned. "Okay, but I still don't see the point to it." He started unbuttoning his dark-blue shirt. Kate waited patiently, hugely relieved that he had agreed to do it. She was certain this would be the start of much healing on his part and also the beginning of him letting go of his fear of marriage.

Taking off his top shirt and only left with his under-shirt, Enzo looked at Kate before proceeding. "Are you sure you want to look at this thing?"

"Yes."

Enzo pulled up the under-shirt on his right side. Kate gasped when she saw the puckered, discolored inclination of where the knife had been plunged in. It was a gash that was only a few inches long but the pain contained in it might as well have been miles long. Now she knew why Valentina had cried when she had seen Leonardo's wounds. Tears rushed out of her eyes, trailing down her flushed cheeks. He abruptly pulled down his under-shirt.

"That's why I didn't want you to see it," he declared, embracing her.

Kate sat speechless for a few moments.

"Violence like this isn't easy to look at," he announced.

"I'm sorry, Enzo," Kate muttered softly as she tried rubbing the tears with her hands. "I didn't think it would affect me so much."

"Katie," he said soothingly, "don't be so upset. Remember, it happened a long time ago, and it doesn't hurt. It's just a scar."

"A scar that has affected your whole life."

"Katie—"

"Sweetheart, can I have a few moments to myself?" This time she was the one who needed space.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned.

"I just need a little time."

He nodded solemnly. "I understand. I'll be in the shower. When I get out, I'm taking you to dinner."

While Enzo climbed up the stairs, Kate's thoughts came bubbling out. Between still dealing with the death of her best friend and fully realizing how close her lover had come to being murdered, her composure had left her. The therapeutic calm she had cultivated through the years was nowhere to be found and in its place were jumbled nerves.

She stayed at the sofa for a short stretch of time as the psychiatrist gradually took over the emotional person in love. Going over the positives of what had just happened, the new beginning with Enzo, she gradually calmed down. _It was a normal gut reaction,_ she told herself. _But now it's time to continue the healing._

She climbed up the stairs determined to make further strides with Enzo. Opening the bathroom door, she'd show Enzo she could take seeing his scar. As much as he liked working in the yard, he'd be free to walk around shirtless, and she'd be free of what was pulling him away from her. The light sound of the water splattering on him soothed her as she started to run the shower curtain to the side.

"Is there room in there for me?" she asked, getting a full view of Enzo's back from where she was at. Gasping loudly, she grabbed the wall next to her, trying to re-gain her equilibrium.

Enzo turned around, surprised to see her there. "Katie," he gasped. "What's wrong?" he questioned after taking in the consternation in her expression.

"Your . . . your . . ."

"What's wrong?" he repeated.

"On your . . . What's on your . . . your . . ."

"Katie," he said with gentility, "if the scar still bothers you, you shouldn't be in here."

"It's not the scar," she managed to say, her voice very shaky.

"Then what is it?"

"Your back—what's on your back?"

"Oh that," he said, his worry easing as he showed his upper back to her. Light-brown marks covered his skin. "It's nothing, Katie. You don't have to be so freaked out."

"Nothing?" she mumbled.

"Birth marks."

"Birth marks?" she asked, her voice becoming very strained.

"I've had these since I was born."

"I've got to sit down," Kate announced, stumbling out of the bathroom. She plopped down on the king size bed as soon as she was near it, the shiny gray silk bedspread losing its smoothness.

Enzo came rushing out in a Navy blue bathrobe and sat quietly next to her. "Katie, seeing all those marks on me has been hard on you, hasn't it?" he asked soothingly.

"Yes," she stated.

"But I already told you," he chided gently, "the things on my back aren't wounds—they're birthmarks."

Kate pulled the top of his robe over one of his shoulders. "They look like whip marks," she mumbled.

Enzo chuckled. "I've been told that before but what would I be doing with those kinds of lashes on my back?"

"Yes, what would you be doing with them?" Kate asked solemnly, thinking about the mark on Valeria's leg.

"Yes, what?" he repeated.

If he had marks like the ones that had belonged to Leonardo, it had to be a coincidence, she told herself. Maybe Enzo had also been whipped in a past life.

He chuckled darkly. "When I was a kid, I'd tell my parents that they came from an uncle."

Kate's heart gave a jolt. "An uncle?" she asked feebly.

"My parents tell me that I'd insist that an uncle had whipped me. What an imagination I had, right?"

Kate climbed inside herself in deep contemplation. "Big imagination," she mumbled. "Big."

"Yes, big."

"Enzo, would you tell me the story behind Gloria?" she asked quietly.

"But—"

"Please."

He let out a deep breath. "I hate talking about what happened."

"Please."

He nodded gently. "Okay."

"Tell me."

"Gloria used to live at the apartment complex I was at before I bought this house. One day I saw her crying by the pool. When I asked her what was wrong, she told me she had been sexually molested by an uncle and had just seen a man who looked like him. I tried to comfort her as best as I could.

"After that day, she would always come to my apartment. It was like she was spying on me—knocking on my door only minutes after I'd get home from work. While I hated the intrusion on my privacy, I felt sorry for her. Then I found out she was telling everyone, including Paul who was in the apartment next to mine, that we were engaged. I angrily went to her apartment and banged on the door. When she opened it, I demanded to know why she was lying about our supposed engagement. She didn't know what to say."

"What happened next?" Kate murmured.

"I told her that I never wanted to see her again—to stay away from me. She started crying and saying that I was humiliating her. Before I knew it, she grabbed a pair of scissors from a desk she was next to and stabbed me."

"It wasn't a knife?" Kate asked, her mind in a frenzied jumble.

"No, it was a pair of scissors. Paul didn't even get that part right."

Kate seemed to be sinking deeper and deeper into quicksand. This story seemed so familiar, like the Gregoria one, and she just wanted desperately to go back in time—to before Valeria/Valentina had come into her life.

"Katie, I've never told anyone about what happened that night," he explained, his breathing shallow. "I really don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Neither do I."

"Let's put it behind us."

"I think that's a great idea." agreed Kate, sighing. "Just great."

Chapter 60

Dr. O'Leary splashed cold water on her face. After Valeria had stepped in the office for another session, Dr. O'Leary had rushed into the lavatory. Thoughts hounded her. _Could it be possible that Enzo was Leonardo?_ She refused to believe it. Leonel had to be Leonardo—had to! It was just a coincidence that Enzo had birthmarks on his back, and the thing with the uncle was a child's overactive imagination. _It had to be._ And his experience with Gloria was too strange for words. Dr. O'Leary didn't want to think about it anymore and didn't want anything to do with this bizarre case. She stepped back into her office.

"Are you okay, Dr. O'Leary?" Valeria asked, concerned.

"I think I ate something that disagreed with me."

"I'll leave so you can go home. I'll arrange for another appointment."

"No," blurted Dr. O'Leary.

"No?"

"Valeria," Dr. O'Leary smiled weakly. "I think we've gone as far as we can go. I don't want to keep taking your money when I can't do any more for you."

"You really don't think you can do anything else for me?" Valeria asked, disappointed.

"I'm sorry, Valeria. This is the end of our sessions."

That night in bed, Kate watched her lover sleep. Everything she had been suppressing came back in an abrupt explosion. _What if he is Leonardo?_ But she convinced herself that she needed to forget all the strange sessions with Valeria. Suddenly, her life had turned upside down with the death of her best friend and the ramblings of reincarnation. She had to find a way of getting her life back to normal. Anyway, Valeria had Leonel. Kate only had Enzo. She eyed him and sighed.

Lindsey's death almost did me in. I can't afford to lose another loved one.

I won't survive it.

El Paso was a large enough city for two people never to run into each other. With a population of about a million, how difficult would it be to keep them apart?

