Slade

IT was really miserable weather as the lone rider made his way through the dark, lonely night. The rain was cold and chilling and it seeped into every pore of his body. The duster he wore didn't stand any chance of keeping him dry in this deluge of sleet and rain. He pulled his hat down further on his face trying to repel the weather. He reached down to steady the basket covered by a small tarp that was held with leather strap to the pommel of his horse. It amazed him that he hadn't heard a peep from the basket. He just prayed that everything would be alright as he edged his horse forward being careful not to jostle his load too much. It was the most treasured thing in his life. His mood only deepened. Up ahead he seen the convent, the end of this part of his long trek. The whiteness of the adobe walls shined even in the darkness. The bell tower loomed, casting down a feeling of safety, like a sentinel in the night. A sinking feeling shot through his chest. A regret had touch his life these last few days that he never knew. He wished there was another way to do what had to get done. But he knew there was no other way for him as he subconsciously reached down to straighten the gun in his holster. He glanced once more at the basket and mused ruefully over the past week. It started out with so much joy, even with the pain it still brought a slight smile to his face. He remembered how wonderful she felt in his arms, soft and warm with the sweet smell of the desert rose, from when she wore them in her hair. Hair as black as a raven, eyes deep, dark and mysterious as the desert night that bred her. He had never seen a woman as beautiful as her. She won his heart the first time he saw her dancing across the floor of the cantina exposing shapely limbs swishing her skirt in time with the music into a frenzied exhilarated pace. He felt his blood rushing as she watched him seductively from under those beautiful lashes. Yes, those eyes, so black and secretive, they reached in to a man's soul and exposed it to the fact they were helpless in her arms. She still stirred his blood thinking of her. It was hard to believe that she had belonged to him. Everybody wanted her. When she wrapped her arms around him and shouted yes and married him, he knew he was the luckiest man in the world to have her as part of his world. She never complained that he was making his way on his own. He promised her one day they would have a home as grand as anybody west of the Pecos. Then she would have everything she could ever want. She had told him the only thing she wanted was him. He felt a tear run down his cheek and he slung it away with his hand. What kind of man am I, he muttered under his breath feeling the shame of it?