DC03 - Though Mountains Fall Read Online Free PDF

trip—a good thing, since there was planting to be done. Camping by a little stream outside Arteaga for the night, Domingo seemed preoccupied. The young native had never been talkative, but for the last two days he’d said virtually nothing. Sitting across the campfire from him that evening, Caleb found out why.
    “Señor Bender, I need to talk to you about something very important,” Domingo said. The night air was chilly, and he held his palms to the fire.
    Caleb chuckled. “More important than bringing the federales to the valley to keep bandits from killing us all?”
    Domingo considered this for a moment, but he did not smile at Caleb’s little joke. “A different kind of important,” he said. “I am in love with your daughter.”
    Caleb was sitting on a log, elbows on knees. Now he straightened very slowly and his head tilted, staring at his young friend.
    “Miriam?” It could only be Miriam. Rachel was promised, Ada was simpleminded, and the other two were too young.
    “Sí. Miriam. We are in love, and we are planning to be married.”
    Caleb blinked and his head recoiled as if he’d been slapped. “You want to marry her? How did this come about?”
    Domingo looked up and there was a note of sadness in his eyes. “How do such things ever happen? It was fate, Señor Bender—too strong. Neither of us could resist it.”
    Caleb was stunned speechless for a moment as scraps of memory flashed through his mind. He had seen the signs—the glances, the quiet words exchanged when they thought no one was looking—but blinded by his love for his daughter, and for Domingo, he’d told himself it was nothing, told himself they were only friends.
    He saw the future, too. Amish girls had married outsiders before. The outcome was always the same, inescapable. Miriam would be banned .
    “I’m sorry, Domingo, but I cannot give my blessing to this union. I must refuse.”
    The young native shook his head and spoke gently. “You misunderstand me, Señor Bender. This is not a petición de mano —I am not asking you for her hand—but out of great respect for you I am simply telling you what is about to happen. Miriam has told me what to expect, and I assure you I am grieved by it as deeply as you. But our course is set, the decision made. I already know you cannot give us your blessing.”
    Caleb nodded absently, staring into the fire. “I admire your honesty, at least.”
    Then a thought occurred to him, a slim but fervent hope.
    “Domingo, have you considered becoming Amish? You would be welcomed with open arms.”
    But Domingo shook his head. “It would only be a lie. I was raised to be a warrior, Señor Bender. I cannot change, and I will not pretend to be something I am not.”
    “But I have seen you make the sign of the cross. Have you become a Christian?”
    “Sí, your God came to me at El Paso de los Pericos , and He has changed my life, but I am too much like my Nahua father to ever be a pacifist. The Catholic Church does not require it of me, and besides,” he added with a chuckle, “Father Noceda says I am not even a very good Catholic.”
    Caleb’s rough hand rubbed the tired muscles of his neck as his eyes wandered, lost. “I don’t think you understand how difficult this will be for Miriam. And for her mother.”
    “Perhaps not. But it can only be as difficult as you make it. Miriam’s feelings for her family will not change.”
    There was nothing more to be said. His mind reeling, Caleb got up and went for his bedroll, though he already knew he would not be sleeping much this night. Most of all, he dreaded breaking the news to his wife.

Chapter 4
    I t was the end of a school day. The children had all gone home and Miriam was straightening up the buggy shed when her dat came home from Monterrey. The whole family turned out to welcome him, but after he corralled the horse he came to put the buggy away. Alone with Miriam in the buggy shed, he sat down on one of the school benches and patted a