“?Ey, Rico!” A pair of hands covered Federico’s eyes, and the voice associated with the hands was immediately recognizable to the heir, “Guess who?”

  “Valentina, I know your voice.” He said, gently clasping her hands and removing them from his eyes. He’d grown into a handsome young man of nineteen years, and he was currently drafting a letter to his friend, Ignacio, informing him of his recent financial success.

  “Oh, boo.” She pouted, coming around him and lightly tapping the tip of his nose with her finger, “Do you do anything but write letters?” Federico half-laughed, half-scoffed at her antics, remembering their first encounter.

  —

  The two had met a year-and-a-half ago - Federico’s father had taken him on a short trip into the countryside to meet an old friend of his. The man in question was Ricardo Seville, a vegetable farmer from the eastern hills.

  “Alejandro!” He shouted, clapping his arms around his friend in a bear hug, before turning to Federico, “Oh, and you’re his little boy!”

  “Not so little anymore!” Federico’s father replied, before turning to Ricardo’s daughter, Valentina, “And look, your little girl’s grown into a fine young woman.”

  Federico and Valentina looked at each other, catching the other’s eye immediately. Valentina was herself quite stunning to the young man, with her large brown eyes, and silky black hair. Said silky hair only stood to contrast against her otherwise unkempt appearance, with simple overalls and sun-bleached skin.

  “It’s nice to meet you.” She smiled, leaning in for a very friendly hug, as the people in the country often did, even to the shock of their urban acquaintances, “I’m Valentina.”

  “I’m - err…” He dumbly stared forward, before coughing into his hand, “I’m Federico.”

  She giggled, and suddenly the city boy found himself unable to take his gaze off of her. The first thing he intended to do was to write a letter to his brother, telling him that he’d gotten there safely and not to worry, but that was soon forgotten as the father insisted they must be hungry, and they all sat down to eat.

  “So, Federico,” Valentina leaned in closer. Alejandro, Ricardo, and her mother, Maya, were chatting with each other about something assumedly more grown-up, “My father told me you were smart -” She got closer, speaking in a lower tone, “But I didn’t expect you to be so handsome.”

  “Oh?” He asked, taking a sip of water and hoping that the situation would resolve itself. He was old enough where his father had educated him on certain feminine wiles, and he’d encountered his fair share of courting. The difference between those incidents and this, however, was that typically it was the parents of the girl offering their daughter up, as if she were some kind of prize or reward, but Valentina was offering herself freely. Eventually, it became clear his attempt at distraction was insufficient, “Thank you. You’re…”

  “Beautiful?” She asked with a smile, “I know, but thank you.”

  “I -” He tried to say.

  “Federico!” His father shouted happily, having already choked back a pint of beer, “Federico, my boy - The Sevilles and I need to have a talk. How about you and Miss Valentina take your food and go to your room.”

  It was a scandalous prospect that Federico was going to deny, but one which was immediately met with a resounding agreement from Valentina, who used her free hand to drag him along by his shirt.

  The two ate with a silent promise between them. Well, ‘promise’ was a strong word. It was more of an implicit understanding - the boy was going to try and eat as slowly as possible, so as to not have to face the reality of the situation while his counterpart gobbled down the corn and hashed beef with gusto, fully intending to face said reality.

  Once Federico realized he could stall no longer, he picked up both plates, saying, “Well, I suppose I’ll run these down to the kitchen.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about it,” Her strong, deft hands wrested the dishes from him, placing them aside on the small, modest desk she was afforded, before she crept closer and closer to the boy, “In fact - I think we should get to know each other.”

  “That’s a great idea!” Federico spun around her, unloading the bag he’d packed and showing off some of his things. He was a true spartan - almost all of the items he packed were entirely utilitarian: clothes, books, stationery - with one exception. At the bottom, wrapped in silk was a small wooden horse. The statuette was incredibly detailed, the white pine’s grain running bow to stern, and accentuating the powerful, luscious mane of what was certainly a grade horse.

  “Oh, wow!” Valentina snatched it immediately, holding it aloft and away from Federico, who tried with a mix of desperation and delicacy to reclaim the effigy, “You’re very talented at this!”

  “It’s actually my brother’s work -” He leapt forward, but Valentina was much more nimble on her feet, twirling around and letting him crash into the floor.

  “Well then, your brother is very talented.” She praised, examining the figure with a bit more scrutiny. Despite this increased scrutiny, she still failed to find a single flaw with the figure, “But why do you have a piece of wood shaped like a horse?”

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  “It was supposed to be a gift.” Federico realized he wasn’t going to win this scuffle, so he settled for dusting himself off and waiting for her to grow tired, “That… and as embarrassing as it is to say, I’ve never seen a horse in person.”

  “What?” Valentina laughed, a full on belly laugh that encompassed her very being, which only contributed to the young man’s blush, “Isn’t your father wealthy? Surely you have a horse or two?”

  “My father was never one for equestrianism,” He admitted, happy to see that she had finally put the fragile woodwork down, “I’ll admit that I was excited at the prospect of seeing one.”

  The farmer girl smiled at that - and it was a genuine smile; nothing mischievous or scheming passed on her face as she grabbed him by the hand and impulsively started leading him downstairs. They passed by their parents, still rapt in conversation (which most likely was simple reminiscing and little of substance), to go outside and dash off to the stables.

  “This -” Valentina said, leading a large shire horse, easily nineteen hands tall, out of his stable, “Is Carlos, our pride and joy. He only listens to me - it’s my gift, I’ve always been good with animals.”

  “Can I?” Federico gestured at the beast, slowly bringing his hands up to Carlos’ head. The horse obliged, lowering his head and allowing the heir to gently scratch the magnificent creature.

  “You look like you want to ask something.” The horse’s owner observed, squinting at the heir.

  “No I don -”

  “You want to ride Carlos, don’t you?” She asked, seemingly having intentionally waited for him to speak before interrupting him.

  Federico nodded bashfully, but Valentina was kind enough to not castigate his embarrassment. She gracefully secured the saddle and bridle, and got on, holding the reins and patting the spot behind her.

  “Should I…” The inexperienced heir asked as he climbed on the back, “Put my arms around you?”

  “Unless you want to fall off.” The equestrian suggested.

  The duo went for a short ride, feeling the bumping of the horse’s trot, the crunch of the gravel and dirt beneath its hooves, and hearing the wind blow through the trees as the sun was starting to set. The time seemed to stretch into an infinite expanse, which paradoxically passed much faster than either of them would’ve liked.

  “Thank you for that, sincerely.” He said, disembarking the horse.

  “Of course!” She replied, drawing her arms around the back of his shoulders, “I could show you around some more, or maybe -”

  “Valentina!” Maya called out, rushing over to her daughter, “There you are! You two worried us sick.”

  “Sorry!” They both said in unison, decoupling their tangled limbs to appear decent, even though it was a futile attempt.

  The two teenagers would continue to steal glances at each other for the rest of the night, promising someone extra that would no doubt occur at some point in Federico’s month-long stay.

  —

  Federico shook his head, reminding himself that he was currently in conversation with his girlfriend. He put down the quill and spun around in his chair, standing up and taking her hands.

  “So,” He asked, “What’s on the agenda for today?”

  “We were going to look for a house, remember?” Valentina asked sweetly, “You said you wanted to move your siblings out of your father’s house already.”

  “Right, right.” He replied, a big grin adorning his face, “I’ve saved around a thousand reals, so we should be able to afford something nice.”

  “Ooh,” She cooed, grabbing his collar, “That’s a lot of money.”

  “Well it needs to be on the beach,” The businessman said, “And it needs three bedrooms.”

  “Three bedrooms?” The farmer asked.

  “Well…” He smiled awkwardly, chuckling at the question, “Mi amor, we’ve lived together for a year now. In the past week, there hasn’t been a night we haven’t had -”

  “I meant - why not four?” She giggled at the implication, “We’re going to have guests at some point, surely?”

  “Four bedrooms it is.” He made a mental calculus of the running total he was hoping to spend on the house, before deciding it was probably fine.

  —

  “Well, that was a bust.” Federico said, more exhausted than he thought possible after searching all day for a house.

  “Come on, Rico,” Valentina argued, “There’s still one more house to look at.”

  Rico rolled his eyes with a groan. He’d already grown sorely tired of being disappointed and borderline conned by the various merchants. But, for his girlfriend and his siblings, he was willing to try one last one.

  This one was different - outside of the city, the rundown bungalow sat in the local mangrove amongst the foliage and thickets. A decrepit old pier acted as the only pathway into and out of the growth, terminating at the front door of said bungalow.

  “It’s certainly something.” Federico tsked as he thought about how much money it would take to repair, “I don’t know if we have enough.”

  “But it’s got such beautiful bones!” Valentina argued, pointing out the nice oaken doorway and solid stone structure, “And besides, rich boy, you aren’t allergic to hard work, are you?”

  “No!” The rich boy rebuked, absolutely being allergic to hard work.

  The two of them both pictured it: the family of four working hard at cutting boards, putting down new stone, and generally working hard to make their own home. And at that last thought, the heir was finally on board. After all, what better house than one made of love?

  So, the two headed inside, knocking first as a matter of courtesy. The person who greeted them was a tall, wiry woman with the head and wings of a vulture.

  “Ah, welcome, welcome.” She said with a smile that looked… eerie, on her face, “You two must be here to buy the house. I’m Teresa.”

  They nodded politely, of course, although the decor of the place was less than inviting. Various animal parts, from the eyes of a lizard to the tail of a racoon, littered the walls and shelves, being kept in fluids and powders, embalmed against rot. The only thing worse than the sight, however, was the stench.

  “It doesn’t look like you’ve packed much.” Valentina joked, trying to alleviate some of the obvious tension, “Not quite ready to leave?”

  “Oh no, nothing of the sort, dearie.” The owner of the home joked, walking deeper into the house, “Just don’t like doing those sorts of final preparations until something’s in place.”

  “Is that so?” Federico asked rhetorically, inspecting some bauble that he evidently should not have - a small thorn on one side pricked his finger and he gasped, putting the trinket down.

  “So,” She asked, “What brings you two loverbirds to such a dingy spot? The air’s thick enough to choke you during the summer.”

  “The plant life is beautiful,” Valentina said, ever the optimist, “And it’s private too. We won’t have to worry about prying eyes.”

  “True, true.” Teresa let out another smile, still creepy, and spread her arms wide, “Well, that’s the whole house. Five hundred reals and it’s yours.”

  A steal, Federico thought, And plenty left over for materials to repair it.

  “We’ll take it.” He said, shaking her hand while his wife smiled on, “I’ll be back with the money in say, two hours?”

  “Excellent.” Her grin had grown to eclipse any other facial feature and turned damn near manic at this point, “I’ll start packing my things.”