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She was alone before you met her, he reminded himself, but she had neighbors and a community that wanted and needed her. He should have insisted she stay. He should have broken off their relationship as soon as he was able to. Now he was too far into it to stop it now. Now he had to pay for his sins, his selfishness in wanting to keep her with him. He might have told himself otherwise at the time, but he knew that the truth had now dug him a pit that he somehow had to get out of before he returned home.

*

She was so mad at herself. Why had she exposed herself like that? Elena spared a look at Tomas, but his face was expressionless. What did she think he was going to say to her? That he loved her and wanted to marry her and stay here with her until they were old? That she was more important than England? It was ridiculous. He was going to leave no matter what, so she needed to wean herself off him, like she had weaned him off the poppy. Harden your heart, Elena. Tomas is not for you.

Her mother’s village was now visible far down the hill. Her expectations of what she had originally hoped for when making this her destination had changed in the last few weeks. It had always been a dream to arrive and be greeted by family with open arms, that they had always wanted to know her, love her, and she would be able to find her place, put down roots. Now, all she hoped for was for them not to run her out of town, and if they could answer some of her questions about her mother, then she would be happy with that.

“There it is,” Tomas said, stopping the donkey.

“Yes. We should arrive just in time for siesta so we should find somewhere to rest.”

“I am sure we could stay somewhere in the town and get out of this heat.”

“Whatever you think is best.” He laughed, which really pulled on a nerve.

“Whatever I think is best? Maybe we should just go around and go straight to Cadiz.”

“No!” It came out much louder than in her head.

Both Tomas’s brows shot up. “You said whatever I think is best. I think it best if we go straight on to Cadiz.”

“I take it back.” This made him laugh even louder.

“You take it back? Which bit?”

“All of it. In fact, you should go on and I will go down the hill into the village.” She took her bag of clothes and her father’s medical bag and turned right into his chest.

“You want me to do what I think is best as long as it aligns with what you think is best? What is going on with you? This is the second nonsensical argument you have had with me today, and I am baffled as to what you actually want.”

“You know what I want. I want to see you on a ship going back to England. My duty done.”

“Your duty done, huh? I would believe you but that when I make love to you, you call my name and hold me to you like you never want to let me go.”

She gasped. “That is a low blow, Tomas.”

“Yes. Yes, it was. Now let’s go down to the village and find out what is what.”

“So now we are going?”

“I think maybe you need this, to put aside the ghost of your mother. It is obviously playing on your mind. Either there is family here or there isn’t but there is only one way to find out.”

Tomas started walking, leaving her with her bundle and her bag to follow. It was at times like this that she hated him.

*

Damn Elena Diaz and her manipulations. He had thought to shield her from the hurt she might encounter in her mother’s home village, but then she turned it around on him. She wasn’t playing fair, and he was getting more and more confused.

He should have left her with Carlos. Carlos could have taken care of her, taken her to La Barossa, and he would have been happy in the knowledge that someone was looking out for her. But he hadn’t. Selfishly, he’d wanted a few more days with her. A few more kisses to keep.

By the time they stopped in the village, most people were still at the small market. Like most Spanish villages of this size, there was a central part of the village where everyone met. Thomas and Elena garnered some strange looks as they entered; they were strangers after all. The traditional whitewashed buildings circled the village, which spread in narrow streets from the plaza. Pretty carnations and other flowers grew in pots around the plaza, and two huge lemon trees provided shade. There was a small cafe with four round tables outside where some sat to have coffee. The smell of fish was fresh in the air as a vendor sold his wares at the edge of the plaza.

Elena went over to three old women sitting near the fountain, all with their parasols up against the heat.

“Beunos dias, my name is Elena Diaz. This is La Barossa?”

They nodded.

“My mother comes from here. I was wondering if there were any of her relatives still here. Her name was Angelina Furtuna. She married a doctor.”