Free The Captive Heart by Dale Cramer

wailing.
    As the young Mexican woman drew nearer, Señora Teresa Tomasina rose from her chair and came to see what the fuss was about. When she finally understood the words the girl was shouting, Señora Tomasina crossed herself, bowed her old head, and began praying to the Virgin Mary.
    â€œ Francisco Villa está muerto! ” the young woman wailed as she passed. “Some devil has murdered him! Pancho Villa is dead!”
    The wave of anguish rolled over them and passed on down the street as peons spilled out of doorways and alleys and ran screaming or fell to their knees in despair.
    Miriam told Micah what was happening, and he looked at her in near panic. The city was in turmoil, and they were separated from Caleb and John.
    Micah’s eyes were full of worry. “What will we do? The streets are overrun, and the whole city must be this way. How will they get to us with the wagon?”
    â€œI don’t know, but they will find a way.” She stared down the street across the growing tumult. “Jah,” she said, nodding calmly, “Domingo is with them. They will find a way.”
    â€œDomingo,” Micah muttered. “Always Domingo. Sometimes I think you put too much faith in him. He is only a Mexican.”
    She opened her mouth to answer, but two strong hands gripped her shoulders from behind. She jumped and spun around.
    â€œDomingo!” Miriam cried, her eyes wide. “Where did you come from? Where is Dat?”
    â€œCome with me,” he snapped. “Quickly!” He grabbed Miriam’s arm and began to drag her the wrong way down the street.
    Micah hesitated, standing by the remains of the produce glaring at Domingo. “What about the corn? What about our boards and bricks?”
    â€œLeave it!” Domingo yelled over his shoulder. “Follow me, now !”
    Micah finally bolted after them, leaving everything behind, elbowing his way through the crowd in the chaotic street until he caught up with them. At the next corner Domingo led them to the right and down an alley to the next street over, where it was not so crowded. Running as fast as they could manage in the chaos, the three of them went barreling around the corner of a leather shop and nearly ran into the back of the wagon. Dat was sitting up front with the reins in his hand, waiting.
    Micah wheeled about and caught Miriam by the waist, in one swift motion hoisting her bodily up onto the back of the wagon between two large crates. Domingo ran around to the front and vaulted up into the seat. Caleb had already snapped the reins and called out sharply to the two Belgians that leaned into their heavy load. The wagon heaved forward.
    Miriam found a place to sit in the back among a wagonload of steel parts, piles of angle iron and pipe, boxes of bolts and sheets of corrugated tin. Micah settled in next to her and held on while Caleb pushed the horses to a trot, hurrying out of the city with his cargo.
    â€œWhy is everyone so fearful?” Micah asked.
    â€œSomebody murdered Pancho Villa,” Miriam said.
    â€œJah, I heard that. But the whole city has gone mad, everyone running wild as if the murderer was chasing them himself. Did it happen in Saltillo?”
    â€œNo, I heard someone say he was driving near his hacienda in Parral when someone shot his automobile full of holes.”
    â€œThen why is there such turmoil in Saltillo?”
    â€œBecause he was Pancho Villa . He was a great leader, a man of the people. He was almost a god to them, and now their hope is crushed. There is no telling what they will do when their grief turns to anger. Domingo said we need to be clear of the towns before nightfall.”
    Micah stared at her then, and his eyes narrowed. He leaned close. “Domingo again,” he whispered. “You really like that Mexican, don’t you?”
    She met his eyes. “Everyone likes him—except Schulman. Domingo is our friend.”
    â€œThat’s not