The Priest and the Cowgirl
Shay Curtis sipped her glass of whiskey in the Oakland Saloon. Things were slow in Oakland, and while Shay was usually the go-get'um type, it was refreshing to have a drink in a place where time seemed to stand still.
Sunlight burst into the room as a stranger in black entered the watering hole. Shay's hands automatically flew to her twin six-shooters nestled at her hips. The man in black moved hesitantly to the bar. He had plain brown hair and wore a pair of wire-frame glasses. Shay gasped a bit when her eyes fell on his throat.
There, under his Adam's apple, was a very unwelcome strip of white. This man was a Catholic priest. Shay frowned... What the hell was a priest doing in the middle of the desert?
"Please," the priest said to the bartender. "I was robbed about a mile from this town. I have no food and no horse...is there anyone here who could help me?"
Shay eased up on her pistols...
Sunlight burst into the room as a stranger in black entered the watering hole. Shay's hands automatically flew to her twin six-shooters nestled at her hips. The man in black moved hesitantly to the bar. He had plain brown hair and wore a pair of wire-frame glasses. Shay gasped a bit when her eyes fell on his throat.
There, under his Adam's apple, was a very unwelcome strip of white. This man was a Catholic priest. Shay frowned... What the hell was a priest doing in the middle of the desert?
"Please," the priest said to the bartender. "I was robbed about a mile from this town. I have no food and no horse...is there anyone here who could help me?"
Shay eased up on her pistols...