Catalina knew nothing of it until it was too late. When she arrived back at the grotto, it was already mid-afternoon. The children greeted her with hugs and smiles and devoured the bread and cheese as if it were a feast. Catalina sat with them, trying to savor this peaceful moment, knowing it might be the last for a long time. But just as the sun began to dip behind the mountains, she heard the sound of horses’ hooves—many hooves—and men’s voices coming up the path.
Catalina jumped to her feet, her heart pounding in her throat. She told the children to run, to hide among the rocks, to be quiet. Tomás obeyed quickly, leading Lupita and Carlitos deeper into the cave, where the shadows were thickest. Catalina stood before the entrance, bracing for the worst. Five men arrived on horseback. Don Erasmo rode in front with Jacinto beside him, and three cowboys armed with rifles trailed behind them.
They dismounted slowly, studying the place. Don Erasmo approached Catalina with heavy steps and looked at her with cold eyes, devoid of any compassion. He asked her what she was doing there. Catalina, her voice firm, though trembling inside, told him she was seeking refuge, that she had nowhere else to go. Don Erasmo smiled, but it was a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He told her he knew she had been in the old house, that she had gone down to the cellar, that she had seen things she shouldn’t have seen.
He asked her if she had taken anything. Catalina shook her head. She said she hadn’t taken anything, that she was just looking for a safe place for her children. Don Erasmo didn’t believe her. He signaled to Jacinto, and the foreman entered the cave with two of the cowboys. Catalina tried to stop them, but one of the men pushed her back, making her fall onto the rocks. She lay there with scraped hands and her heart pounding like a drum as she listened to the men’s footsteps inside the cave, rummaging through everything, searching.
