The Bride. Carolyn Davidson

Hers and Rafael’s it appeared, for his saddlebags were placed inside the flap, and his blanket roll was spread on the ground, taking up over half the space available inside the small structure.

      It was fully dark, the moon hung low on the horizon and the sound of night birds in the forest played a mournful melody in her ears as Isabella was led to the tent and instructed to crawl within. She sent Rafael an imploring look that was archly ignored as he held the flap wide enough for her to affect easy passage. She crawled to where his blanket roll lay and took one of his coverings for herself, spreading it beside his and settling herself on it, wishing for another quilt of some sort to keep out the night air.