But it was a small village, after all, and it was unlikely that she would get lost. There was only the main street, and a ramshackle collection of mud huts with thatched roofs. The posada was the most elaborate building she had seen, boasting a patio as well as rooms built at an angle to the main structure.

Squares of light dotted the street, streaming through windows left open. Shadows darkened the street at this end, and the well was a bulky dark silhouette against the glow of distant lanterns. She crossed the dusty courtyard and street to reach the stone well. Water trickled from an iron spout in the shape of a lion’s gaping mouth, collecting below in a shallow basin of stone.

The cantina music grew louder now; a burst of laughter was shrill. Clutching the empty pitcher, Ginny’s head came up, and she frowned. It sounded odd.

Then her hand tightened on the handle of the pitcher as she saw the horses bunched in front of what must be the only cantina. So many horses! A uniformed soldier stood guard, obviously unhappy as he slouched against a wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

Soldiers. From Lerdo’s army, no doubt. Ginny stirred uneasily. None of her experiences with Mexican soldiers had been pleasant, though she had lived with Colonel Miguel Lopez a long time ago.

As she stood there, uncertain and listening, there was a volley of gunfire followed by screams and shouts. Her heart began to thud erratically and she dropped the pitcher with a crash. Oh God, not again, not again…Where was Steve?

Panic set in, and she ducked into the shadows behind the well, her spine pressed against damp stone as men spilled out of the cantina and into the street. Feeble bars of light slanted across unmistakable uniforms and shouts of anger filled the night.

Hiding in the dark, crouched down so she wouldn’t be seen, she watched for Steve. As more time passed and there was no sign of him, only the chaotic milling of soldiers rounding up citizens and shoving them into a line, linked by chains that she could hear clinking heavily, she had the rending thought that he might be among them. Oh God, no!

No, she told herself, Steve’s too smart to get caught like that. He’s hiding somewhere until the soldiers are gone and it’s safe to come out….

A hand descended upon her shoulder, startling a scream from her that she quickly muffled with one hand. Relief flooded her, and she rose to turn, knees weak with reaction. Of course he was too wary to be taken….

But the dark face that loomed out of the shadows was not Steve at all. Instead glittering black eyes pinned her like a helpless insect. Recognition dawned slowly, then she blurted, “You were in Ojinaga! We danced….”