In spite of a burning curiosity, Tessa composed herself to await Señor O'Toole's readiness to come to the point of his visit. She tried a conversational sally with, "The weather is very fine, is it not, señor? We have enjoyed a long period of sunny, cloudless days."

O'Toole leaned forward in his chair, his blue eyes fixed on hers. "Too many sunny days, if you ask me, " he replied. "Nothing can grow without water, and there's not been much of that lately. That's what I came to see you about." He settled back causing the chair to creak under his weight, gauging her reaction to his statement.

"What do you mean? What do you wish to see me about?"

"Water," he stated flatly. "You need water ...and soon. I can help you get it." He smiled at the shocked look on her face. A lovely face, it was too, he added to himself, enjoying her discomposure. She was too self-assured by half with her haughty nobility and elegantly-phrased Spanish. O'Toole grinned as he watched the expressions chase across her face: hope, confusion, finally settling on anger and suspicion. He had expected that would be her main reaction.

"Señor O'Toole, we have had no rain for too many months. Every waterhole and stream is dried up. Only our well continues to supply water. We are lucky; other haciendas have no water at all. It takes my workers all day to water our crops just enough keep them alive. If we don't have rain soon, this area will be like a desert. We will have no crops, no harvest. It is cruel of you to jest about finding water! There is none to be found here." Tessa gripped the arms of the wicker chair, anger flashing in her eyes.

"If that's the case, where does the water in your well come from, Señorita? Why isn't it dried up like other wells?"

Tessa broke off her reply when Marta and a servant girl walked onto the porch carrying a pitcher of water and some meats, breads and condiments. Handing O'Toole a plate, Tessa gestured to the food. "Please help yourself, Señor O'Toole. May I offer you a cold drink of water?" She picked up a glass and filled it. She took no food herself but drank a glass of water, watching him hungrily wolfing down the meal. She wondered how long it had been since he had eaten, or if this was his usual appetite.

O'Toole finally set aside his plate, and sipping his drink, regarded Tessa through narrowed eyes. She was more composed now, but he could see she had a tempestuous nature, her passions always near the surface. Like quicksilver, he thought, she would change her moods rapidly. An interesting woman. Pushing those thoughts aside, O'Toole said, "I have a business proposition for you, Señorita Alvarado, if you would care to hear it."

"Why do you come to me with this proposition, of all the haciendas in this area? Is it because I'm a woman, and you think I can be gulled more easily than a man?"

O'Toole laughed softly, the thought that she could be gulled by anyone striking him as very funny. He had decided she was someone to be reckoned with in just the few minutes they had been together. She did not suffer fools or liars, or those who wasted her time. He sobered and sat forward, his manner as respectful as he could manage.

"If you will come with me, Señorita, I can show you something that could change your fortunes, and perhaps, save your hacienda." Observing her face, he realized the remark had struck home. "Yes, I know how precarious is your hold on this place. People in the local cantina talk, and I'm a good listener. You ask why I came to you. That's why." He paused significantly, then added, "I can show you where there is water on your land. Lots of it."

Tessa gasped and leapt from her chair, agitation evident in her every movement. Dare she believe this man who looked like a beggar? How would he know where there was water when no one else could find it? She whirled to face him. "Where is this water you speak of? I know every inch of this land and have seen none."

For an answer, he stepped off the verandah, and tapping his foot on the ground, said, "Right here." He grinned mischievously and added, "Well, maybe not right here, but out there a bit. Let me take you to it."

Tessa glanced questioningly at Marta, who was studying O'Toole with a penetrating look that made him squirm. She said, "It is worth a try, Tessa. What have you to lose but some time? But," Marta added, her eyes never leaving O'Toole's face, "I will go with you."

"If you feel refreshed enough, Señor O'Toole, let us go there now." Signalling to her groom, Tessa said, "Bring our horses, Manuel, por favor."

O'Toole cast sidelong glances at his riding companions, Tessa being in the middle and Marta on her right. Two very beautiful women, he thought, wondering why there were no men controlling the hacienda. Surely Tessa would have suitors from the area, some scion of a noble family wanting to annex her lands to his. Perhaps she was betrothed to someone back in Spain. He kept these thoughts to himself as he rode toward a ridge of low hills.

Tessa broke the silence with, "Señor O'Toole, I have been over this area many times. There is no water here, believe me." She exchanged an impatient look with Marta, who merely shrugged.

"Be patient, Señorita. The water is there." He grinned at the two women, both of whom ignored his effort at being charming.

"Where do you come from, Señor O'Toole? Your Spanish, though excellent, has an unusual accent." Marta's innocuous question drew a short laugh from Tessa, who covered it with a cough.

"I was born in Ireland, ma'am," he replied with a flash of pride in his smile. "Ah, now there is a green and fertile land. I lived in Mexico for a few years. That's where I learned to speak Spanish. I'm making my way toward the American Colonies, hoping to get some land of my own, maybe in Virginia."

"You have certainly taken a long way around. And the American Colonies, from what I heard in Spain, are now independent from England. It is a new country called los estados unidos."

"Independence from England...that's what I want. That's why I'm going there. To get away from tyranny and oppression."

"If you want to avoid tyranny and oppression," remarked Tessa, "you have certainly come to the wrong place. There is as much of both here in California as anywhere in the world. I would advise you to keep on moving, Señor O'Toole. Get to Virginia as soon as you can."

"Well, Señorita Alvarado, it takes money to buy land. And I've run out of money. That's where our business proposition comes in. I find you water -- enough to get a good harvest -- and you give me a share. And one other thing."

Tessa gasped at the impertinence of his offer and turned sharply to face him. "And if I do not agree to these terms?"

"Then I ride on to another hacienda and make them the same offer. It's of no consequence to me so long as I get some cash to buy land." He gazed overhead at the cloudless sky, and added, "No, I don't think we'll get any rain today." His insolent grin was met with a stony look from both women. He laughed softly, enjoying himself immensely, almost certain of the outcome.

"What is the other thing you mentioned?" Her voice husky with anger, Tessa added, "If we are to strike a bargain, I must know all of the terms."

"I'll show you when we get there," O'Toole replied, and turning to stare ahead, lapsed into an introspective silence.

O'Toole led them toward a high ridge of huge boulders. He rode behind one monolith and they found themselves in a narrow defile between high walls of rock.

Tessa halted and called to him as he continued through the winding ravine which was scarcely wide enough for two horses abreast. "I go no farther until you tell me where we are going. This little canyon leads nowhere." Her voice echoed off the rock walls, as her mount pranced nervously.

"Just trust me a little longer. I promise no harm will come to you. And you will agree it was worth the long ride." O'Toole reined his horse back into the canyon, and the two women, seeing no choice, followed single-file.

Eventually the defile widened and opened into a large meadow, completely enclosed by the surrounding rock faces. But it was what was in the meadow that caused Tessa's eyes to widen and her mouth to drop open.

At the far end, nearly a half-mile up the meadow, was a small herd of about a dozen long-horned cattle cropping the short lush green grass and lowing contentedly. As the cattle became aware of the intruders, they milled together watchfully. A bull snorted and pawed the earth aggressively but made no move to charge.

O'Toole laughed aloud at the women's expressions. They were taken aback, as he had hoped they would be. He gestured to the herd and said, "This is the other thing. I want to keep this herd in here until they're fattened enough to be worth something. They were pretty gaunt and half-dead of thirst when I found this place. And I wouldn't have except one of the heifers smelled water and ran into this canyon. I was just going to drive them into the pueblo and sell them for whatever I could get. But, in here, there's lots of grass... and water." He gestured to a dark stain on the rock face near the cattle. "That's a spring that comes out of the rocks and trickles down into a little pool below. The cattle have all they need in here."

He rode toward the herd, which drifted away to another part of the meadow. Dismounting near the pool, he allowed his horse to drink. Tessa and Marta got off their horses, gazing around this oasis in the midst of the rocky hills. The earth beneath their feet was spongy and water seeped up around their boots.

"This is marvellous, Señor O'Toole," Tessa breathed, almost reverently. "I can hardly believe this place exists. I had no idea it was here. My father always forbade me to go into these canyons, fearing pumas or bears. It is like a miracle." She turned to O'Toole with a broad smile. "Of course, you may keep your cattle here." The smile disappeared abruptly and her shoulders sagged a little. "But what good is the water in here when it is out there, in our fields, that we need it."

O'Toole's eyes twinkled merrily, and he replied, "Follow me, ladies, and I will show you how to get water to your fields." Remounting his horse, he waited for Tessa and Marta to follow suit, then cantered back to the canyon entrance.

Outside once more, he reined his horse a distance away, then dismounted. Tessa and Marta waited astride their mounts while O'Toole went to his saddlebag and pulled out what looked like a forked stick, holding it up for their inspection. Grinning at their obvious confusion, he held both sides of the stick and began to walk. The stick seemed to move in his hands and he followed its direction until it pointed straight down. He expelled a gratified sigh, and looking up, gestured for the women to come nearer.

"There's water below here," he said, pointing down at his feet. "Don't know how far down, but it's there for sure."

The women dismounted and joined him, gazing at the arid earth where scarcely a blade of grass grew. They exchanged dubious looks, causing O'Toole to laugh good-humouredly. He handed the stick to Tessa, saying, "Here, you try. Hold the stick lightly and just let it go where it will." Nothing happened, and with a moue of disappointment, Tessa handed the stick back to him.

"Marta," he said, "Maybe you have the gift."

She took the stick and it seemed to come alive in her hands. She dropped it with a gasp. Her companions' laughter offended her dignity. Marta did not like to be made a fool of. She picked up the forked stick and watched it moving, seemingly of its own free will. A broad smile crossed her face as she became used to the feeling of power coming from the divining rod.

"Your gift is even stronger than mine," O'Toole commented as he watched Marta following the rod as it pulled this way and that. "You'd be a good water witch."

"How does it work?" Marta asked as the forked stick pointed straight down where O'Toole was standing. "There is a power in this wood that I don't understand. What is it?"

"No one really knows how it works, only that it does. And not everyone has the gift of divining water. It's a family thing with the O'Tooles. Most of us have the gift. I used it many times in Mexico. They were sure I was a demon of some sort -- superstitious lot -- but they appreciated the water I found." Scrubbing the earth with his boot, O'Toole added, "If you can get your workers to dig here, you'll find a good supply of water. It may take a few days to get down to it, but it's a strong source. From there, you could dig canals to your fields to irrigate them."

"That make take weeks, Señor O'Toole. We need water now. Is there not another source somewhere nearer the vineyards? Let us see if we can find more water with this magical stick of yours." Tessa's face was alight with hope as she took the divining rod from Marta, gazing at it in fascination.

"Makes sense, señorita. Worth a try." He accepted the forked stick from Tessa and replaced it in his saddlebag before mounting his horse. Tessa and Marta climbed into their saddles. "Lead on, MacDuff." O'Toole chuckled to himself when neither understood his reference.

The workers strained with buckets hooked to a wooden bar across their shoulders, stooping to pour the precious water onto the vines. Like a hive of bees, the ceaseless activity continued throughout the whole field as the burros pulling carts with vats of water slowly wound through the vineyard. Dipping their buckets full and returning to each row of vines, the white-clad peasants laboured under the remorseless heat of the California sun.

The trio halted and watched the scene for several minutes. It had a primitive beauty, the fearsome power of Nature being repelled by the stubborn determination of humanity.

Tessa sighed, her eyes soft with the love of her land and her people. Almost to herself, she said, "My father said to me when I was a little girl, 'Tessa, old Europe is the past. This land is the future, your future and your children's.' He envisioned our land as a paradise, a fertile garden where everything would grow abundantly." Her eyes were moist as she turned to her companions and her jaw was set with resolve. "His blood is in this land, and I will never give it up. I will die fighting to hold on if I have to."

O'Toole nodded, clenching his own jaw firmly. He gazed away for a moment, overcome by an emotion the women could not see. "I know what it is to lose your land," he said softly. "I know the bitterness of having it stolen from you, leaving you with nothing." He turned to Tessa, looking on her with something new in his eyes, respect and understanding. "Fate must have sent me to you, Señorita Alvarado. From this day forward, I'm your man. I'll help you with all my strength to get in this harvest." Clearing his throat quickly, he grinned impishly, and added, "So what about our business proposition. Do we have a deal?"

Tessa nodded and O'Toole spat on his hand and held it out to her. A look of faint disgust crossed her face, then she spat on her own hand and clasped his. "We have a deal, Señor," laughing at this strange way of concluding a bargain.

O'Toole strode the perimeter of the field with his divining rod, a frown of concentration on his face while Tessa and Marta watched astride their horses. For over an hour he paced the area with no result. Eventually, he returned to the women, his expression distressed. "I've found no trace here so far, Señorita. Maybe Marta would like to try. But even if there's water here, it would be very deep. We should go farther off and try our luck elsewhere." Seeing the disappointment in their faces, he added, "Don't worry, we'll find it."

As he wandered across the dry earth away from the vineyard, the wand began to waver slightly. He whooped with joy and began to run, following the power emanating from the stick. Suddenly he stopped and waved to the women. They galloped to him and dismounted. "It's here!" he cried, "Right below our feet! Just waiting for us to find it. Merciful Mother..." he added heartily as he dropped to his knees and said a silent prayer of thanks.

Tessa and Marta bowed their own heads, waiting for O'Toole to rejoin them. Eventually Tessa spoke. "Are you sure there is water here?" She looked to her vineyards, nearly a quarter mile away, and sighed. "At least it is closer than our hacienda well. The burros won't have to cart the water so far. What should we do first, Señor O'Toole?"

"Well, for starters," he grinned, "you can call me Seamus. Now that we're partners. Next, we need a few of your workers to start digging." He paused reflectively for a moment, then continued, "I think we'll dig out a large circle for a pond that can fill up with the water. It will be easier to haul out that way. After that, we'll plough a deep furrow to your vineyards and line it with tiles. I saw this done in Mexico. That will be the beginning of our irrigation channels." He laughed delightedly at the prospect. Visions of a canal system irrigating a series of fields rose up in his mind as he viewed the landscape. Yes, it would work here too.

Continued in Part Two