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Miriam’s face with the diaper.
    “It’s just too cruel,” Emma said. “You never had a chance, did you? You’re suffering, and will suffer more, over something you cannot help.”
    Miriam blinked. “You knew?”
    “That you were in love with Domingo? Of course.”
    “Was it that obvious?”
    Emma shrugged. “To me, jah. To others—I don’t know. But marriage?” She shook her head. “I can never read Domingo. I wasn’t sure how he felt about you, and I never dreamed he would ask you to marry him.”
    “He loves as fiercely as he fights,” Miriam said.
    Emma lifted her chin with a finger and looked into her eyes. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
    Miriam’s head tilted forward a bit and she glared, hard, from under her eyelids.
    “Right,” Emma said, smiling. “Dumb question. Why would you face the ban if you weren’t sure.”
    “Such a terrible, heavy price. How can I bear it?”
    “Do you have a choice?”
    “No.”
    “Then you will bear it. Maybe it won’t be so bad.”
    “How can you say that? To be put out from among my family, my people?”
    “Oh, Mir, you’ll still see your family. They’ll still talk to you. Just because you can’t sit at the same table—”
    “Even that. The very thought of it chills me. The dinner table is the center of our lives together.”
    “But it’s not like you can’t see them or talk to them. I don’t know about Dat, but I will wink at the ban.”
    “Then they’ll ban you, too.”
    “Psh, no they won’t. I know how much I can get away with.”
    Emma was smiling now. She always knew what to say.
    “You would do that for me?”
    “Jah,” Emma said, “and so will the rest of the family, sooner or later. You’ll see.”
    “But why?”
    “Love. Your family loves you, Miriam. Listen, the ordnung is a good thing, but it’s not greater than Gott. Gott is love, and love forgives. I have already forgiven you, and I know my father’s heart. He will forgive you too, in time.”

    The next morning Miriam saddled a horse and rode over to the house on the back side of San Rafael. The house belonged to Kyra and her two young sons, but Domingo and his mother lived there as well. Domingo’s mother greeted Miriam at the door, her face still aglow from Domingo’s announcement. She kissed Miriam’s cheeks, hugged her and called her mi hija preciosa —my lovely daughter. Uncle Paco and Aunt Maria were there too, waiting to meet her. Paco was tall like Domingo and bore a striking resemblance to him but for the short hair and full mustache. Maria was a plump little woman like Mamm, but full of mirth, her hair tied back in a tight bun, just beginning to gray at the temples. She laughed at everything and was giddy with the news of her nephew’s betrothal.
    Gripping Miriam’s face in her chubby hands, Maria beamed. “Domingo, I see why you chose this one. She is beautiful ! Like Kyra,” she said, casting a glance at Domingo’s sister and bursting into laughter, “only younger, and not so feisty!”
    “Uncle Paco and Aunt Maria will be our sponsors for the wedding,” Domingo explained. “Our padrino and madrina .”
    “Sponsors?” Miriam had never heard of such a thing.
    “Sí, it is custom. They will help us in many ways. The madrina will help you with your dress and the planning of the wedding. The padrino drives everyone to the church and gives away the bride.”
    This was something of a relief. Knowing absolutely nothing of an Englisher wedding, let alone a Mexican one, she was delighted to learn she would have an official guide.
    “Today we will go with you to the magistrate’s office for a license, and then we will all go visit the priest,” Paco said.
    Maria took Miriam’s arm and spoke in a low, conspiratorial tone. “The priest will ask you a few silly questions, a mere formality. But I am the one who will teach you the things you will need to know if you are to be married to a Zapara.” With a mischievous glance at her husband she