LAST CHANCE → sean macguire ✔

one , three

Twigs and branches clawed at Willa's face and Horaz let out a low huff, but she wasn't turning back. She could still see Sean in front of her and, as far as she was concerned, that was all she needed. Eventually the trees opened up to a clearing full of tents and people.

It was like the wanted posters had come to life and were walking in front of her. Blinking, breathing, talking-- shit.

Their eyes snapped up to her. She had said it out loud, announcing her presence like a dinner bell, "Who's she?" The voice belonged to a man with thick hair, black as ink and gelled back under his hat. He had a matching moustache and the air of a leader. Dutch Van der Linde.

Sean didn't even hesitate, "I met her at t'he saloon in Valentine. We got into a fight with a guy there and she, uh... Well.... She's wanted now. For murder and for running away with me." He laughed and there was that quirky little short again that made Willa smile.

"You didn't get recognized, did you?" The man turned narrowed eyes to Sean.

"Well... I, uh-"

"What's your name, girl?" An older man spoke up, stepping closer. Horaz threw his head and Willa crossed her arms over the horn of her saddle.

"Willa Grant, sir." She tipped her head in greeting.

"Grant, huh?" The old man looked behind him and another man turned away quickly.

"I didn't know Sean was a part of a gang and it wasn't his fault. The fight, I mean. I started it, he just helped me... when he didn't even have to," She met Sean's gaze for a passing second and he sent her a thankful smile, "But he told me just earlier that he was a part of a gang. My father was in a gang, so it's not a foreign subject to me. I have nowhere to go anymore, being wanted and all, and... I, uh... I promise I won't be a threat."

"Miss Grant, right?" Willa nodded at Dutch's question, "Ya know... I can't think of one reason why you shouldn't stay. Seems you helped to get our Sean out unharmed and you look like you can take care of yourself," He looked over at the older man, "And we ain't ones for turning down people in need. If you wish to, you can stay. If not... Well, you know where we're camped..." He trailed off. Willa shifted in her saddle.

"Thank you. This means a lot." She had to admit, she was surprised that they were so... Civilized. The stories really were just a load of shit, so far at least.

"Welcome to the gang, then. We all do our part around here. I'm Dutch and this is Hosea. I assume you'll meet everyone else before the day's out." He looked around at the gathered people, then, nodding once, he stepped up onto a box to be just a bit taller, "Isn't that right? You'll all treat Miss Grant like one of us, right?" His voice might've cracked, but Willa wasn't paying attention. There was an unmistakably giddy smile on Sean's face that made her inside fill with butterflies.

"She's one of us, now! Just like Mrs. Adler." An older woman chimed up from the back. The gang nodded in agreement and Willa could only smile.

What an interesting couple of days it had been. She killed a man, became wanted, escaped the law with an Irishman, met the Van der Linde gang and became one of them. This was the action-packed life her father had left her to find for himself.... So maybe she was a lot like him. Except, she still yearned to be back home, too. Or at least to tell her mother and sister that she was alright. It was more than her father had done.

She untacked Horaz and let him graze, then wandered over to the glowing fire. Some of the gang members were gathered around it as one of them played his guitar. He was singing in Spanish as the others hummed along. Willa stood by the fire and watched the people around her, and she found it hard to believe that these were the people that the wanted posters spoke about. That these people, singing and laughing with each other in the dead of night, were cold-blooded murderers.

The song came to an end and one of the gang member spoke up.

"Hey! Willa, right? Why don't you tell us a little bit about yourself." He was an old man with a thick grey beard, and his round cheeks jiggled when he spoke. The others turned to look at her.

"Oh, uh... Well, there isn't much to tell. I grew up on a ranch outside 'a Valentine. My father was around for some of my childhood and taught me how to shoot and hunt, but, uh.... He took off eventually. My mother drank for a while, but she stopped and I had to look out for her and my sister. I've done some hired work here and there, but I mostly hunt." She swiped some hair out of her eyes and frowned.

"We all have a past that we're runnin' from, girl," The old man raised his bottle in the air and the guitarist passed Willa one, "Let's make a toast like they do in them fancy places. To our screwed up pasts, and everything that led us here."

"And to everyone who works to keep us alive!" Someone added in. Footsteps came running over.

"And to whiskey, which will always be better t'han t'his piss." Sean's voice chimed in and the group laughed. Everyone stretched up over the fire to touch their beer bottles together. Willa joined, smiling. She took a long gulp from her bottle, immediately agreeing with Sean. Whiskey was better.

"Mhm, what're all'a your names?" Willa scooted to give Sean a spot to sit.

"I'm Javier," It was the guitarist who answered, "That old bastard is Uncle. There's also Charles, Lenny, Miss Grimshaw and Arthur. Arthur's a sour old bastard and he don't talk much, eh Arthur?"

Willa put names to faces around the campfire, but Arthur refused to look at her. He just grunted his response and got up.

"I'm going to bed." Was all he said, then he left. Willa sent a confused look at Sean, who shrugged.

"Uhm... Who else is around camp...?" She asked quietly. John, Abigail and Jack Marston, Micah Bell, Bill Williamson, Pearson, Leopold Strauss, Mary-Beth, Karen Jones, Tilly Jackson, Molly O'Shea and Sadie Adler were the names she got. They would be harder to put to faces, since she didn't even know what their faces looked like.

"Think we should hit the hay?" Lenny spoke up after a while. Willa had just finished yawning.

"Sounds good to me."

"Yeah, I'm exhausted."

"Where are you sleeping, Willa?" Sean helped her up from her spot on the ground.

"I was thinking something off in the trees. Like over there." She pointed to a spot that was quite secluded. Sean frowned, but made an attempt at hiding it.

"Want help setting up?" He offered.

"Keep it in your pants, Macguire. The lady just got here." Charles teased as he walked by.

Sean turned a glare to the man, "It's not my fault t'hat I have the confident air about me t'hat ladies love." He puffed out his chest, then he turned back to Willa. She shrugged, chuckling and looking away to hide her red cheeks.

"I don't want to be any trouble. I think I can manage." Sean was blatantly frowning now. Willa shifted on her feet, "So, uh... Goodnight." She cursed her awkwardness as she went to grab her stuff from Horaz. About half-way to her desired spot Willa realized that help would've been quite useful, but her hesitance got the better of her and she threw away the idea of asking Sean for help. He offered her a smile, then crawled into his own tent.

It was a wrestle to get the tent set up, but Willa didn't give up. She probably got a couple hours of sleep that night and she was cursing herself the whole time she was awake, but at least she was alive. That was one of the good things she could count.

She still had her health, at least.