Chapter 10 — Under the Same Sky
Time had a strange way of working on the heart.
Sometimes it passed too quickly.
Sometimes it seemed to stand still.
For Bento and Isabel, the three years apart had been both.
They felt like an eternity whenever the longing grew sharp.
But they also felt brief whenever the two of them remembered the day of their farewell beneath the old fig tree.
Three years.
Three long years.
And still, their love remained alive.
Stronger.
More mature.
Deeper than either of them had ever imagined.
It was a quiet night at the Ragamuffin camp.
Winter was drawing to a close.
The sky was clear.
Thousands of stars shone above the fields.
Bento stepped away from the bustle of the soldiers and sat alone on a small rise.
He liked that spot.
From there he could watch the horizon.
And think.
He took from his pocket one of Isabel’s most recent letters.
He had already read it many times.
Even so, he opened the page again.
As he always did.
As he would probably keep doing until the day they were reunited.
Her delicate handwriting seemed to carry her voice across the distance.
“My beloved Bento,
Today I walked to the fig tree.
The same place where we said goodbye.
The trees are still there.
The stream still runs.
Everything looks the same.
And at the same time, everything has changed.
I sat in the shade of the fig tree and found myself wondering where you were.
Perhaps looking up at that same sky.
Perhaps thinking of me.
Sometimes that thought comforts me.
Because I realize the distance between us exists only here on earth.
In the sky we are still together.
Under the same stars.
Under the same moon.
Under the same God.
Always yours,
Isabel.”
Bento raised his eyes.
Looked up at the stars.
And smiled.
At that very moment, perhaps Isabel really was looking up at that same sky.
The same moon.
The same constellations.
The thought brought him an unexpected peace.
At Santa Vitória Ranch, Isabel stood at that very moment by her bedroom window.
Watching the night.
Thinking of him.
The years had left their mark.
Not only on Bento.
On her as well.
The lovestruck girl had become a woman.
More mature.
Stronger.
More determined.
Waiting had taught her patience.
Longing had taught her endurance.
And love had taught her courage.
Because to keep loving Bento, in spite of everything, took courage.
More of it with every passing year.
Colonel Anselmo remained determined to find a husband for his daughter.
Several suitors had been introduced over those years.
None had succeeded.
Some gave up quickly.
Others persisted longer.
But all of them, in the end, drifted away.
Isabel stayed courteous.
Respectful.
But unreachable.
The colonel was beginning to lose patience.
And that worried Rosa.
The maid could see the change.
Could see the tension rising.
Could see the risk growing.
But she kept helping her mistress all the same.
Even knowing it put her own place at the ranch in danger.
It was during this stretch that a new figure appeared.
His name was Ricardo Valen?a.
A distant nephew of the colonel’s.
Recently arrived from Porto Alegre.
Young.
Sharp.
Observant.
More observant than he had any business being.
Ricardo came to spend a few weeks at the ranch.
Officially to see to family business.
But he soon began noticing things that escaped everyone else.
Small details.
Small coincidences.
Small behaviors.
Things that seemed insignificant on their own.
But that, taken together, formed an interesting picture.
Especially for someone as curious as he was.
It began when he came across Isabel rereading a letter.
She closed the envelope quickly the moment she noticed him.
The gesture struck him as odd.
Naturally odd.
Not enough to raise immediate suspicion.
But enough to catch his attention.
A few days later, he saw Rosa hiding some correspondence.
Another coincidence.
Then he noticed that certain letters always arrived by the hands of the same messengers.
Yet another coincidence.
And so he began asking questions.
Discreetly.
Carefully.
Without drawing attention.
Meanwhile, Bento continued his rise through the ranks.
His promotion to sergeant had brought new responsibilities.
He now commanded men.
Made decisions.
Planned operations.
His superiors showed growing confidence in his abilities.
But none of it eased the longing.
Quite the opposite.
The more he matured, the more he understood Isabel’s worth.
And the more he wanted to return.
One particularly quiet afternoon, he received a new letter.
Opening it, he found something different.
A small drawing.
Made by Isabel herself.
It showed the fig tree.
The stream.
And two figures seated beneath the branches.
One wore a hat.
The other wore a long dress.
Bento was deeply moved.
It was worth more than any medal.
More than any promotion.
More than any recognition from his superiors.
He kept the drawing with the medallion.
In the safest place among his belongings.
Days later he wrote back.
His letter was one of the longest he had ever written.
He spoke of the years gone by.
Of the men he had come to know.
Of the dreams he still carried.
And for the first time he mentioned something important.
“My dear Isabel,
Sometimes I think about the future.
Not only the day we’ll be reunited.
But the years that will come after.
I imagine a simple house.
Perhaps a small piece of land.
A garden.
Children running through the fields.
It sounds like a distant dream.
I know.
But it’s that dream that carries me through the hard nights.
And I want you to know something.
I keep working to become worthy of you.
Every promotion.
Every responsibility.
Every accomplishment.
All of it brings me closer to the man I want to be when I return.
I won’t come back as the ranch hand who left.
I’ll come back as someone capable of building a life at your side.”
When he finished the letter, he felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Confidence.
A quiet, steady confidence.
Because for the first time, he could see a path ahead.
Difficult.
Long.
But possible.
Meanwhile, fate had begun moving dangerous pieces into place.
At Santa Vitória Ranch, Ricardo Valen?a was growing more and more interested in the mystery surrounding Isabel.
One afternoon, walking near Rosa’s quarters, he noticed something out of the ordinary.
A letter, half hidden.
He couldn’t read it in full.
But he saw a signature.
Just one word.
“Bento.”
Nothing else.
But it was enough.
The name stayed with him.
Who was Bento?
Why was Isabel receiving letters from him?
Why did everything feel so secret?
His curiosity turned into investigation.
And the investigation was closing in, dangerously, on the truth.
That same night, Isabel walked out to the fig tree.
Alone.
As she had done so many times over those years.
She sat by the stream.
Watched the moon’s reflection on the water.
And thought of Bento.
She had no idea what dangers were beginning to close in around her.
No idea that someone was gathering clues.
No idea that the secret she had built and guarded for three years was closer than ever to being exposed.
The wind blew gently through the trees.
The same wind that swept across the fields.
The towns.
The military camps.
And that perhaps, at that very moment, also brushed against Bento’s face.
Parted by the war.
Joined by love.
Still under the same sky.
But moving ever closer to the storm that would change both their lives forever.