Anzani stood up. “Do I have anyone in favor of taking this gift?” The crowd was silent; even the birds stilled.

“Feel free to voice your opinion; we are all comrades here. We are all equal,” José added, but still there was silence.

“Any nays?” Anzani asked the crowd. It was with a unified defining voice they all called out nay. I couldn’t help it. I joined in with them.

“Very well. I will give General Rivera our answer. You are dismissed,” José said.

The next day, as I cleaned up our breakfast and prepared for my morning chores, José sat at the table watching me. He leaned back in his chair. “I have to say, I really like it here. I could see us making Salto home.”

“I do as well. Even though it was under siege, it doesn’t feel like it was tainted by the war.”

“It’s also cleaner than Montevideo.”

“There is nothing like the smell of decaying fish in the morning.” Slowly a giggle bubbled up from my belly and spread to José. Before I knew it I was sitting on his lap laughing.

A firm rap at the door brought us back to our senses. I followed José as he opened it to find a young messenger boy standing there holding a letter. José took the letter and opened it, his smile dissipating.

“José, what is it?” I asked, growing concerned. “José?”

“The war is over.” He left the house without another word.

Forty-Two

May 1846

José had sent out inquiries to his allies in Montevideo. Soon the news came trickling back to us. Rivera had in fact been having disagreements with the Uruguayan government. Rivera wasn’t satisfied with the peace treaty offered by Britain and France—an agreement that put Rivera in charge of Montevideo and Oribe in charge of everything else.

“Well, now we know why Rivera made such a generous offer to the Redshirts,” José said, slapping down the letter from the messenger. “He thought he could buy us.”

“And with your support he would have reignited the war,” I said.

“We have to go back to Montevideo.”

“Why? What for?”

“The government called the legion back. Even though we are Rivera’s tool, we still have to take orders from the Uruguayan government.”

“I don’t want to go back. We can build a life here.”

José’s face fell. “They gave me orders.”

“And it wouldn’t be the first time you ignored them.”

“Anita, we have to go.” José crumpled the letter. “Oribe is taking over the region and he doesn’t want us here.”

“If we go to Montevideo now, we’ll risk me giving birth to this child on the road.”

“You wouldn’t be the first.”

“José—”

“Tesoro mio, I know it’s not ideal and if we could stay, we would, but we have no choice.”

“Montevideo is dangerous, it’s filthy, and I’m sure it’s still riddled with disease.”

“We’ll be fine.”

“How do you know?”

José got up from the table and placed his callused hands on my shoulders. “Because we’ll be together.” He pulled me to him, kissing the top of my head.