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Willa woke on a jutting cliff edge, bruised and cut from her tumble down the mountain. Her ears were still ringing and her vision seemed blurry, but she was alive. If she had fallen any longer, though, she would be as good as dead.

She groaned loudly as she rolled into her stomach, securing her hands close to her body for support as she pushed herself up. Her head spun from the movement, so she waited until the world was still again before she pushed herself to her feet.

Willa stumbled for a moment, fighting to get her bearings and settle her damaged body. Something was definitely wrong with her arm, and it hurt to breathe.

"Fucking Pinkertons." She swiped at the blood on her lip, when a horrifying memory dawned on her. She spun on her heel and scanned the area around her.

She didn't know if it would be better to see Horaz there, or on the ground below, but the familiar fur made her heart lurch. The cuts on her face stung from her tears as she threw herself down beside her beloved horse.

She had won him at a competition, which was one of the best memories of her childhood. Her parents still smiled back then, and her father had taught her all the ropes to training a horse.

When the young mustang was ready to be ridden for the first time, Willa's father had been the first one on his back, then the first one he bucked. Willa tried the next day and he never bucked once. She named him Horaz as a take on Horace, the poet, whose poems and works she was taught to read with.

Now his body had grown cold. Willa pressed her lips to his forehead, "Thank you, boy. You did good." She sniffled, then struggled back to her feet. Willa slung her gun over one shoulder and her saddlebag over the other.

"Milton won't be happy unless we uncover the girl's body. Come on, she can't have gotten far-- hell, she probably died from the fall." A gruff voice said above her. Willa froze.

"There's a smaller cliff down there. Maybe she landed there?" Another voice suggested.

"Let's check quickly. It's damn cold." A third voice answered.

Willa had to go. She sent one more look towards Horaz's body, then steeled herself and crept down the side of the mountain. About half-way down, the voices made the shocking discovery of her horse, but it sounded like they had no idea where she was. Willa thanked God that there was no snow on the ground as she made it to the bottom.

Her whole body hurt and she felt split if half, broken and raw, but she needed to get back to camp. She could grieve later, when her life wasn't on the line. Milton now knew that she wasn't going to play his games, so now her family was in more danger than before-- if that was possible-- and Willa yearned to see Sean again.

She adjusted her hat, took a deep breath, and began the long trek home.

Her legs weighed pounds and she was gasping for air when she caught sight of Shady Belle. Each breath felt like a dozen needles in her side and caused her to wince each time, and her arm burned. As she crested the hill, her vision darkened, then brightened again and she stumbled to catch herself.

"Guys!" Her voice was ragged from lack of water and weak from exhaustion. Her vision clouded again, "Guys! I'm... I'm..."

"Willa? Shit, Dutch! Dutch, it's Willa!" Someone was yelling. She wanted to punch them. Her eyes cracked open and someone was stooped over her, holding her head off of the ground. Wait, how did she get on the ground?

"You're a wonder, Willa." He chuckled.

She tried to answer, but everything went black before she had the chance.

~~
I just wanna say thank you for all my readers. The ones who stick with the story like glue, or who only come once in a while to see what's up. I appreciate every one of you and, in all honesty, I just hope you guys enjoy my content. The numbers don't really matter much to me anymore, as long as I give someone a chance to escape their real life, if only for a few minutes.

I don't like to be one to get all sentimental, so I'll leave you to enjoy the rest of the story. Thanks again, and have a wonderful day!

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