Categories > Original > Romance > Fruta de la pasión
Zorro was riding Tornado slowly, aware of the stiffness of the child sitting right before him. He could feel that he girl was very tense, even though she wasn't shouting anymore and had finally stopped struggling against him. She now seemed to have resigned herself to whatever her fate was to be, but he could tell she still didn't trust him, trust his words of reassurance as to her safety with him.
At first, just like her mother, she had been afraid of him and had tried to fight him, when all he was trying to do was to help her. He freed her from her ropes and her gag, only to have her scream out and try to run away. Of course he quickly caught up with her before she had made only a dozen steps and he tried to explain that he didn't mean any harm, that he was here to help her. She didn't believe him or didn't even listen, called for her mother, then for her – their – father; she flailed about and even tried to scratch with her small nails whatever part of his face wasn't covered. She began struggling and wriggling in his arms, to no avail of course: her poor six-years-old strength was no match for Zorro's grip. He tried to be as gentle as possible though, and that's only when he promised her he was going to bring her back to her parents, to her father's home, that she finally seemed to give up the fight and let him take her to his horse.
He could feel the girl was still frightened, and he knew that any brusque move could have her shouting or in tears. Or both. With a great probability that she'd try to flee again. That's why instead of urging Tornado into a gallop as he so much wanted to in order to 'deliver' her to the hacienda and to the safety of faces she was familiar with as soon as possible, he had his stallion gently and calmly walk through the desert.
At that sedate pace the ride to the hacienda would take long, he knew that. On the other hand, the pueblo wasn't too far, and de Soto and his men were probably not back there yet, so the risk for him to be caught was minimum. He could still entrust the padre with her care and ask him to bring her home: after all, she now knew him a bit, since he was the one who travelled to San Diego to expose Don Alejandro's request to Senora Valdez and explain her the reason why he thought he now had to make Leonor's existence known in Los Angeles and why now had come the time to introduce the girl to his son.
Zorro let out a sigh: he still wasn't totally at ease with that idea, far from it. How could he? This was still all too fresh and too sudden to him! He didn't know what else tell the girl apart from reassurances that he didn't mean any harm. But she was still holding herself very stiff and tense against his chest, and himself wasn't feeling terribly relaxed in her company.
Yes, the best course of action was to pay the padre a daily visit which he hoped would be as discreet as possible, and leave his young... sibling... in the priest's company. The good padre would then bring her back to the hacienda, or at least send a message for someone to pick her up at the presbytery.
In a very awkward silence, the two of them slowly rode to the pueblo, with Zorro still looking out for patrols.
z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z
Leonor barely dared breathe. She felt frightened.
In the morning, after they'd left the inn, she's been quickly showed around her papá's hacienda hand in hand with him; she had been excited to finally see where Papá lived, and he had to tell her to stop bouncing.
He had then led her to the garden. There, Papá had picked a rose and had removed all the thorns before planting it in her hair with a gentle smile on his face. Leonor remembered she had giggled when Papá had struggled with the blue ribbon tied in her long black hair. Mamá had to come help him, saying that his fingers were too used to handle the pommel of a sword or the reins of a horse, but that he severely lacked dexterity with his daughter's hair. Papá had replied that he was probably a bit nervous at the moment, but Leonor didn't understand why. Sometimes grown-ups were just plainly weird.
Then Papá had called a servant who led her and Concepcion to the bedroom she would sleep in for the duration of their stay. Leonor had taken her book and sat in an armchair while Concepcion unpacked her luggage. That's when the mean men arrived through the window. She shuddered at the memory.
A bump on the road suddenly made the big black horse jump and Leonor felt the masked man in black tighten his grip around her.
After Mamá had tried to free her and was hit by the mean man, this other bandit had attacked the mean señores, had cut her ropes, and had taken her with him.
This one was even more frightening than the others: he was taller, he was entirely clad in black from head to toes, he had a cape that made him look like a bat, and he was wearing a strange black mask. Instead of just having a scarf hiding the lower part of his face, he had a mask like the ones people wear on a masquerade ball, except it wasn't Carnaval! His mask hid the upper part of his face, leaving only his moustache, his jaw , his lips and his chin to be seen. He was terrifying.
He said he would bring her back to Mamá and Papá, and she wanted to believe him, but now she was sure it was a lie. The other men too said they didn't want to hurt her, but they had hurt Mamá; she was sure they were liars, and this other mean señor was probably a liar too.
At first, just like her mother, she had been afraid of him and had tried to fight him, when all he was trying to do was to help her. He freed her from her ropes and her gag, only to have her scream out and try to run away. Of course he quickly caught up with her before she had made only a dozen steps and he tried to explain that he didn't mean any harm, that he was here to help her. She didn't believe him or didn't even listen, called for her mother, then for her – their – father; she flailed about and even tried to scratch with her small nails whatever part of his face wasn't covered. She began struggling and wriggling in his arms, to no avail of course: her poor six-years-old strength was no match for Zorro's grip. He tried to be as gentle as possible though, and that's only when he promised her he was going to bring her back to her parents, to her father's home, that she finally seemed to give up the fight and let him take her to his horse.
He could feel the girl was still frightened, and he knew that any brusque move could have her shouting or in tears. Or both. With a great probability that she'd try to flee again. That's why instead of urging Tornado into a gallop as he so much wanted to in order to 'deliver' her to the hacienda and to the safety of faces she was familiar with as soon as possible, he had his stallion gently and calmly walk through the desert.
At that sedate pace the ride to the hacienda would take long, he knew that. On the other hand, the pueblo wasn't too far, and de Soto and his men were probably not back there yet, so the risk for him to be caught was minimum. He could still entrust the padre with her care and ask him to bring her home: after all, she now knew him a bit, since he was the one who travelled to San Diego to expose Don Alejandro's request to Senora Valdez and explain her the reason why he thought he now had to make Leonor's existence known in Los Angeles and why now had come the time to introduce the girl to his son.
Zorro let out a sigh: he still wasn't totally at ease with that idea, far from it. How could he? This was still all too fresh and too sudden to him! He didn't know what else tell the girl apart from reassurances that he didn't mean any harm. But she was still holding herself very stiff and tense against his chest, and himself wasn't feeling terribly relaxed in her company.
Yes, the best course of action was to pay the padre a daily visit which he hoped would be as discreet as possible, and leave his young... sibling... in the priest's company. The good padre would then bring her back to the hacienda, or at least send a message for someone to pick her up at the presbytery.
In a very awkward silence, the two of them slowly rode to the pueblo, with Zorro still looking out for patrols.
z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z ~ z
Leonor barely dared breathe. She felt frightened.
In the morning, after they'd left the inn, she's been quickly showed around her papá's hacienda hand in hand with him; she had been excited to finally see where Papá lived, and he had to tell her to stop bouncing.
He had then led her to the garden. There, Papá had picked a rose and had removed all the thorns before planting it in her hair with a gentle smile on his face. Leonor remembered she had giggled when Papá had struggled with the blue ribbon tied in her long black hair. Mamá had to come help him, saying that his fingers were too used to handle the pommel of a sword or the reins of a horse, but that he severely lacked dexterity with his daughter's hair. Papá had replied that he was probably a bit nervous at the moment, but Leonor didn't understand why. Sometimes grown-ups were just plainly weird.
Then Papá had called a servant who led her and Concepcion to the bedroom she would sleep in for the duration of their stay. Leonor had taken her book and sat in an armchair while Concepcion unpacked her luggage. That's when the mean men arrived through the window. She shuddered at the memory.
A bump on the road suddenly made the big black horse jump and Leonor felt the masked man in black tighten his grip around her.
After Mamá had tried to free her and was hit by the mean man, this other bandit had attacked the mean señores, had cut her ropes, and had taken her with him.
This one was even more frightening than the others: he was taller, he was entirely clad in black from head to toes, he had a cape that made him look like a bat, and he was wearing a strange black mask. Instead of just having a scarf hiding the lower part of his face, he had a mask like the ones people wear on a masquerade ball, except it wasn't Carnaval! His mask hid the upper part of his face, leaving only his moustache, his jaw , his lips and his chin to be seen. He was terrifying.
He said he would bring her back to Mamá and Papá, and she wanted to believe him, but now she was sure it was a lie. The other men too said they didn't want to hurt her, but they had hurt Mamá; she was sure they were liars, and this other mean señor was probably a liar too.
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