by RLB Hartmann

Chapter One

September, 1913.  La Puerta del Sol.

     Domingo saw the captain coming, looking small and lost in the wide, neglected field bordered by the Rio Sonora.  Ascending streams of smoke, gray against the dark trees, rose black against the dawn sky, and for a moment he feared Capitan Cordero was burning Mama's body the way rebels had burned the enemy dead in Durango
     Then he remembered her open grave, dug by soldiers during the night, and was comforted to realize it was only the crude frame on which she had rested that he was smelling.

     Half an hour ago, he'd lifted Teo to kiss their mother's rebozo-draped coffin, lit by torches at her head and feet.  Returning with others to the casita where she had lived as a girl, he could not bear to stay inside and be reminded of their happy arrival here two days ago, nor remember the long hours of dread yesterday after the enemy patrol surprised Cordero's men.  He shut his mind against the memory of Mama running out into the streets, heedless of the shooting.

     He breathed shallow to avoid inhaling the odor of smoke, and waited for Capitan Cordero to take charge of his life.

     When the captain finally crossed the road and stopped under the wide-branching acacias in the yard, Domingo said, "We are ready." Dirt on the man's handsome face appeared tear-streaked.

     Cordero stared at him a long moment.  "Bueno."

     Going to where the cavalry horses were tethered on a rope between the acacias, the captain jerked free the reins of the nearest one, but instead of swinging into the saddle, leaned forward and rested his forehead against the stained leather.

     The young sergeant named Joaquin came out of the house, followed by his sweetheart, Paz, a slim, silent girl only a few years older than Domingo.  He would be eleven next May, a point distant and unreal, as unreal as being surrounded by people he scarcely knew, people who could all be killed by Huertistas as suddenly as had Mamacita.  His brother, only five and still snuffling, clung to Paz' hand.  He checked to be sure Teo had not lost their bundle of clothing.

     Joaquin said, "Teniente has taken the company and gone ahead, as you ordered."

     Paz handed the captain a clay mug of the hot chocolate she had made.  Her large eyes looked up into his in the same way Mama's had done, but he didn't seem to notice.