No Words Necessary

By Di

The heat rose in shimmering waves causing the horizon to appear distorted. With each step he could feel the warmth of the pavement burning through the soles of his battered boots. A guitar case hung from his hand. The fact it was heavy was evident, but he carried it with the ease of one who was accustomed to the weight.

The man stopped suddenly, and turned to look behind him. Shielding his eyes from the sun, he could barely make out the shape of something on the road, traveling fast in his direction. He stepped off the pavement, turned the case on end, and raised his thumb.

After speeding past him, the brake lights came on and the pickup pulled to the side of the road. Picking up the guitar case, the hitchhiker walked towards the parked vehicle. He was ten feet away when the passenger leaned out of the window, laughing as the engine roared, and the truck raced back onto the road in a cloud of dust and flying gravel. The smell of burning rubber was in the air as tires squealed. Swerving from one side to the other, the pickup barely missed a large turtle that was slowly crossing the road.

The dust cleared and the man resumed his solitary walk. Stopping, he picked up the turtle, which had retreated into its shell.

"It is not your day to die, mi amigo," he said solemnly. Placing the turtle on the side of the road, he picked up the case once more. The sign to his right proclaimed Santa Rosinda to be a mere ten miles down the road. A glance over his shoulder confirmed he would probably be entering the town under his own power. He used the sleeve of his jacket to wipe the sweat from his eyes before starting the long walk in the blazing sun.

Dusk was giving way to night as he entered the outskirts of the small town set in the middle of nowhere. A few houses, a general store, the post office, one church and two bars were all the town consisted of.

He pushed open the door of the first bar he came to, walked in and waited until his eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room.

Several men sat on high stools next to the bar. A card game was in progress at the only table that boasted any occupants. Choosing a table where he could sit and still see the door, he pulled out the chair, swung his leg over the back and settled both himself and the guitar case.

All eyes turned to the stranger who met their gaze without reserve. The group of men gathered at the end of the counter parted to allow a petite, young woman to leave her place behind the bar.

He watched her walk slowly toward his table, taking in the straight black hair hanging past her waist, the brightly embroidered peasant blouse and the way the multi-colored skirt swayed with the movement of her hips as she walked.

"What can I get for you?" was spoken in a husky, heavily accented voice.

Tilting his head back, he raised his almond eyes to her face where they were met by her jet black ones.

"Beer," he managed to mumble. She nodded and made her way through the group at the end of the bar, returning minutes later with a mug of foamy amber liquid. Dropping some coins into her outstretched hand, he caught her eye again. "Is there someplace to get a room for the night?"

She could see weariness on the face of the handsome stranger. Dirt and dust covered the bedraggled clothes he wore. Locks of hair escaped the band holding back his hair, allowing it to fall into his eyes. None of this mattered to the man who sat before her, fighting the exhaustion that threatened to overcome him.

"There is no hotel in this town, but I have a room upstairs I rent out sometimes. Ten bucks for the night. It's not fancy, but it's clean. There is a shower…" she said as glanced at the road dust that seemed to cover him from head to toe.

"Fine. I'll take it." He dug some bills out of the pocket of the tight black pants and handed them to the woman.

"It's right up those stairs. Down the hall, last door on the right," she said, and pointed to the staircase across the room.

The chair scraped as the man stood, picking up the guitar case at the same time. He raised the mug, emptied the contents in one swig, and crossed the room to disappear up the steps.

The door creaked as he opened it and stepped across the threshold. Using the spur-less boot, he kicked the door shut behind him. The room was small, boasting no more than a bed and a chair. A shower, stool and sink were all that would fit into the small bathroom on the right.

His boots made an uneven thump and clank as he crossed the wooden floor. The guitar case was placed on the floor beside, and the gun he carried in his waistband hidden beneath the solitary pillow. He sat on the bed and pulled off his boots. Exhaustion was beginning to call the shots as he lay back on the bed, arm flung over his eyes.

As he lay there too tired to sleep, his mind whirled with visions of the past month. His best friend was dead. Bucho was dead. Carolina was gone.

His friend didn't deserve to die the way he did; he had not wanted to be a part of it any longer. It was because of him that he was dead.

When Bucho turned out to be his brother, he almost put aside his vow for revenge. But then Bucho threatened Carolina. He couldn't stand by and see her killed like Domino.

Ah, Carolina. He managed a small smile as he thought about their time together although he knew all along she was not meant for the life he lived. He left her to a new life in one of the small towns they had come to on their journey.

Unable to sleep, he rose from the bed. With a shrug, he dropped his jacket on the floor beside the guitar case. Seconds later he stepped into the steaming shower, having littered the floor with a trail of clothes on his way.

The sound of the shower drowned out the soft tapping at the door. It opened slowly, and the dark-haired woman from the bar peeked in. She crossed the room and stood in the doorway to the bathroom.

"I brought you towels, Senor. I will set them…"

The water shut off and a hand reached out from behind the shower curtain. She handed him one of the towels, set the rest on the sink and walked back into the other room. Squatting down, she began to pick up the clothes scattered on the floor.

His presence in the room was immediately palpable. Her hand froze as she reached for the boot with the spur, and glanced up to see the man standing in the doorway.

The sudden intake of breath could be heard as the fact that she was alone in a room with a nearly naked stranger began to sink in. He moved to stand directly in front of her. Strong hands reached down to grasp her upper arms, pulling her to her feet.

Water dripped from his long hair, and with fascination she watched as a particularly sensuous drop fell onto his chest. Her eyes followed its movement as it made its way through the soft, black hair, trailing down his flat stomach to disappear into the terry cloth surrounding his waist. Boldly, she reached up to follow the path it had taken with her index finger. She reached the spot where the water droplet had disappeared into the cloth, and looked up to see desire reflected in the molten amber eyes of the man who gazed down at her.

His hands stroked down her arms, his fingers grasping the material of the peasant blouse she wore. She raised her arms as he slowly pulled the garment free of the skirt and up over her head. His eyes met hers once again as her fingers entwined in the wet strands, pulling him down until his lips met hers.

Her remaining clothes joined his on the floor, and he lowered her onto the bed. She hooked one finger into the terrycloth, and with one quick tug, the towel joined the pile. He lowered himself to lie prone on top of her, his hands stroking and squeezing as feathery kisses from his lips covered her body.

She was ready for him, but still an audible gasp filled the room as he entered her. Her fingers clenched, digging into the hard muscles of his back. He began to move slowly, setting the pace for their lovemaking. His hands and lips seemed to be everywhere as her moans echoed in the nearly empty room.

A movement from her was all that was needed to roll him onto his back. Straddling his hips, she slowly began to raise and lower her body. The muscles in his jaw and neck contracted as he fought for control. Rough hands covered her breasts, and her nipples hardened immediately at his touch. His hands moved to her hips, coaxing her to increase the rhythm of her movements.

Breath came in short gasps as they reached the brink of ecstasy. His fingers dug into her buttocks, and she threw back her head as they both came together.

He gathered her into his arms as she fell forward, exhausted. No words were spoken as he held her tight, kissing her lips softly. Throwing her leg over his, she curled into his embrace, her fingers entwined in the soft, curling chest hair. She smiled to herself as his breathing slowed. The weariness she'd seen in his eyes earlier had finally claimed its victim.

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when he woke the following morning. The bright rays shining through the east window promised another hot day was in the making. He reached out for the woman, only to find the space she had occupied was now empty.

Slowly swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he leaned down to gather the clothes dropped there the night before. The peasant blouse and skirt no longer graced the pile. He dressed quickly, sitting back on the bed to pull on his boots. Seconds later he closed the door behind him.

Boots thumped and a single spur jangled as he descended the steps. A quick search of the main floor confirmed the woman's absence. He walked over to the bar, and reached for a piece of paper and pencil lying there. Several seconds were spent staring at the paper before he pushed it away and picked up the guitar case. She didn't deserve the pain that came with knowing anything about him.

The man stepped out of the bar and into the bright sunlight of the morning. Only one small dog was visible on the main street.

Small clouds of dust billowed around his boots as he began his solitary walk to the edge of town. He didn't look back. He didn't see the woman who slowly stepped out of the shadows.

Shielding her eyes from the bright glare of the sun, she saw the stride of a man determined to go through life alone. The woman watched as he stopped to pick something up and move it off the road.

Visions of his handsome face as they came together in passion flashed through her mind. A passion between nameless strangers, she realized, as she watched him disappear over the rise.