Nachas body began to quiver as she blew short breaths against her mother's breasts.
Nacha wrapped her legs around the rope that hung from the jacaranda tree in the center of the town.
Nacha edged in closer, kneeling on the hem of her blue cotton skirt.
Nacha ran her tongue across the split, patchy ridges of her dry lips as she cranked the wooden bucket of water up from the well.
Nacha gripped the jarro by its thick handles and swung it in front of her.
As Nacha ran to the opening, Mage hurried toward the cradle in the corner of the room, lifted the sleeping infant, Gerardo, and wrapped him in the scarlet rebozo that was draped across a nearby chair.
Nacha and Mage jumped at the sound, Nacha letting out a sharp cry.
Gerardo shifted and moaned in his sleep, and Nacha buried herself deep in the curve of her mother's arm.
Mage and Nacha buried their faces into Pedro's shirt as he drew his arms around them.
Pedro stood erect and lifted Nacha out of the burrow, then helped Mage and the baby out into the living room.
On the way home for lunch, Nacha noticed that not all the Villistas had left the town.
Nacha bent forward at the waist, took a deep breath, and blew between her pursed lips.