The Captive Heart Read Online Free Page B

fields for spring planting while the Shrocks and Hershbergers picked out sites across the valley and started work on their homesteads. Domingo spent the entire week helping Caleb bring in the winter wheat. Miriam drove the wagon for them, watching Domingo work alongside her father, hoping for a chance to talk to him privately. She didn’t know what she would say, or even if she would have the nerve to say what she was really thinking. In the end it didn’t matter because she never had a moment alone with him.
    Until Friday afternoon. The wheat was all in, and after lunch her father stood in the front yard picking his teeth and talking to Domingo about turning the stubble under. When Miriam walked by, he stopped her.
    â€œMiriam, see if Mamm needs anything from the store. I want you and Rachel to take the buggy into town.”
    She had been so busy she forgot. Once a week Caleb sent a couple of his daughters into town to trade butter and cream for whatever they needed at the mercado in the hacienda village, and pick up the mail at the post office.
    â€œJah, Dat,” Miriam said. She had already turned back toward the barn when Domingo spoke up.
    â€œHerr Bender,” he said, “I know it is only a few miles to town, but I don’t know if it is wise to send your daughters without someone to protect them.”
    Caleb pondered this for a minute.
    â€œJah, mebbe you’re right,” he said. “It’s better to be safe than sorry.”
    â€”——
    Domingo took the reins, wearing a gun belt around his hips, and Miriam rode up front with him while Rachel sat in the back. It was a fine spring day, full of sunshine, the open fields dotted with clusters of some kind of little purple wildflower, the birds boasting and chasing one another on a cool breeze. Domingo spoke very little, keeping his eyes on the road as the buggy horse paced smoothly along toward the hacienda village. Miriam thought of a thousand ways she might open a dialogue with him, but she couldn’t say what she really wanted to say with Rachel right there in the back seat. She sat quietly with her hands in her lap, trying to hide her nerves. She was anxious, partly because she was naturally shy and introverted, and partly because of that gun. Guns always made her skittish, but a handgun was the worst because it was not a hunting weapon. A pistol was mostly for shooting at a man.
    When they reached town Domingo jumped down from the surrey and tied the horse to the hitching rail in front of the mercado—the grocery store. Rachel and Miriam climbed down with a block of butter wrapped in paper and a jug of heavy cream that they planned to trade.
    â€œYou have Mamm’s list?” Miriam asked, checking to make sure her white prayer kapp was still in place after the ride.
    â€œJah,” Rachel said, “but I don’t need it, really. She only wants some salt and cloves.”
    â€œOh. Well then, since it’s not very much, why don’t you take care of the trading and I’ll walk down to the post office to get the mail?”
    Rachel looked at her a little sideways. “Why don’t we just stay together? We’ve got all afternoon.”
    Miriam glanced at Domingo, leaning casually against the hitching post, and Rachel’s eyes narrowed.
    â€œI see,” Rachel muttered. “Well, it’s your life, sister.” She hooked a finger in the jug of cream and snatched it away from Miriam, then turned on her heel and stalked into the mercado without another word.
    The street was crowded with Mexicans in rickety wagons, going and coming, buying and selling. Everyone seemed a little more animated than usual, and Miriam felt it, too. The first hints of spring brought an air of expectation and well-being. Walking beside Domingo, Miriam’s mind flitted through all the words she’d been practicing in her head, but none of them sounded good enough when the moment was actually upon her.