The Outlaw and the Lady (4th in the Crane Gang Series)(womanxwoman)

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

Willa sat alone on the back porch of Maria's house and simply stared into the darkness. Her side was still bleeding. She didn't care. The only thing she cared about was laying in that house with a knife in her chest.

Maria had run everyone out. The rest of the family was gathered out front. Willa hadn't been able to join them. It was her fault. Her fault that Jeb and Gill both had bullet wounds. Her fault that Preston was having trouble recovering from his breathing spell. Her fault that Eleanor was dying. Her fault that Zachariah was losing his sister. Her fault that Preston was losing his best friend. Everything was her fault.

If she hadn't stolen Harvey Dougal's goddamn horse, none of this would have happened.

So, she sat alone with Eleanor's bloody shawl held tight against her chest and she waited. Waited for Maria to come and tell her the inevitable news. People didn't survive taking knives to their chest.

Footsteps approached and Willa stiffened. Was it Maria coming to tell her the woman she loved was dead? "Hey there, Willa."

It was Pete.

"Go away, Pete."

"Why are you out here alone?"

"Because I like being alone. I'm used to it."

"No one blames you, Willa."

Willa felt pain in her chest. She gripped Willa's shawl tighter. Emotion clogged her throat. "I blame me."

Pete sat down in the chair beside her and sighed. "Now you sound like Gill."

A tear slid down Willa's cheek and she swiped at it desperately. "There's no way around it, Pete. She's dying because of me. I wanted to spend forever with that damn woman."

Pete nudged her. "And who says you won't? Maria's good at what she does."

Willa stared up at the full moon. "She can't work miracles."

Pete leaned back in his chair and stretched out his legs, crossing his feet. "Well then I'll just sit out here with you."

Willa grumbled. She wanted to be alone. Now that the tears had started they didn't want to stop. "Why?"

"Because no matter what happens in that room. No matter what news Maria has when she comes out. You aren't alone anymore, Willa. You have a family."

Willa could no longer control her emotion. For the first time in her life she broke down and wept. Burying her face in Eleanor's shawl her body was wracked with sobs that she had no hope of stopping. She couldn't breathe, as the tears came harder and harder.

She couldn't lose Eleanor.

She was going to lose Eleanor.

No more hearing that soft, gentle voice. No more holding that tiny hand as they walked down the street. No more kissing those full lips. No more feeling that soft body against her own. No more peaceful place. No more beauty in a world that was too often harsh.

And it was all her fault. Her actions had killed the woman she loved with everything she had. Eleanor had come into her life so unexpectedly. The love between them had come so unexpectedly. And now Eleanor was going to be gone, just as unexpectedly,

Slowly her tears subsided. Her eyes simply ran dry. She kept her face buried in that shawl, breathing in the scent of Eleanor clinging to the fabric.

She was very aware of Pete still sitting there silently. She wished the man would go away.

Time ticked by so slowly. An owl hooted in the distance. Music and laughter floated their way from the saloons. Willa wished they could all just be quiet. Didn't they realize her life was falling apart around her? Couldn't they just show the smallest damn bit of respect for the woman laying in that bed dying?

More footsteps sounded. Couldn't these people just leave her alone?! Willa raised her head to tell whoever it was to go away, only to realize it was Maria. The woman was wearing an aged white apron that was covered in blood.

Eleanor's blood.

Willa tore her eyes away from the blood-soaked apron and looked up at the older woman's face. Tears were filling her red-rimmed eyes and Maria shook her head slowly. "I'm so sorry. She...."

Willa didn't wait to hear anything else. She leapt to her feet and rushed into the house, nearly knocking Maria off her feet as she did so.

It couldn't be. She wouldn't accept it. Eleanor was not dead! Willa skidded into the room where Eleanor lay and her feet stopped moving.

Eleanor was so pale. So still. So lifeless. She was covered by a sheet pulled up to her chin. Willa didn't breathe. Somehow, she found herself at the edge of the bed.

"Ellie?" her voice was hollow and so very tiny. "Ellie, please...."

Willa felt those tears once again. Turned out they weren't dry after all. She pressed her lips to Eleanor's and felt how cold they were beneath her mouth. Willa's tears fell on Eleanor's face and rolled down her pale cheeks.

"Ellie, come back," she whispered against her mouth.

Willa fell to her knees beside the bed. She didn't care about her own bullet wound. She didn't care about the blood on the floor. She paid no heed to the sound of others coming into the room.

She laid her head on her Ellie's chest and sobbed into that sheet.

Then suddenly she stopped. Willa held completely still as her heart thundered. After several still moments it happened again.

Eleanor's soft chest rose slightly beneath her as she took the smallest of breaths.

The room spun.

Her Ellie wasn't dead.