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

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Consciousness slowly began to return and with it a horrible ache in Willa's head. Outside of her own physical discomfort, the first thing Willa was able to register was voices—the voice of the bitch who had knocked her out was among them.

"Don't you lecture me about what I did, Gill?"

"I'm not lecturing..." an unfamiliar male voice, apparently belonging to someone named Gill, replied.

"Good, cuz you've done it more than once," the woman stated.

What the hell was wrong with these people? They made a habit of knocking innocent people unconscious in the middle of town?

"Yes, he has." Another voice chimed in, this one belonging to the bitch's red-haired husband.

"You're not helping, Pete," Gill grumbled.

As bickering ensued between Pete and Gill, Willa attempted to gain her bearings without opening her eyes and letting this group of crazies know she was awake. She was alive, obviously, that was a good thing. Her head ached something awful. She was sitting on a hard, rickety chair with her ankles tied to the legs and her hands tight tightly behind the back.

What the hell had she done to deserve this kind of treatment?

In addition to the three voices Willa had already heard, she knew there were plenty of other people gathered around her. Their shuffling feet and the sense of them close around her made Willa uncomfortable.

What the hell was she going to do to get herself out of whatever the hell she'd gotten herself into?

"That's enough." Willa's attention piqued at the new booming, authoritative voice. "I want to know why that woman is coming into town hunting after my man. Since I can tell by her breathing that she's awake, I reckon it's time for her to tell me."

Willa remained still a moment longer. That was most definitely a man's voice—and he had just referred to another man as his. Interesting.

Slowly, almost sheepishly, Willa blinked several times. Her view was a set of thick, masculine thighs. Craning her neck, Willa moved her gaze upward. The black man standing in front of her was massive. Muscular arms were crossed over a broad chest while hard brown eyes glared down at her over a wide nose.

"Who the hell are you?" Willa whispered, through the pounding in her head.

"Name's Ezekial." His full lips turned down. "Who the hell are you?"

Willa let her gaze drop. Her head ached much too severely while craning her neck and it caused her vision to swim. She was real damn vulnerable right now and that knowledge riled her. It was when her gaze dropped that Willa realized the man wore no guns—instead he wore two knives; one hooked on each thigh.

"My name is Willa. I don't know why the hell I'm tied to this chair but I don't mean anyone here any harm." Except the woman that had hit her upside the head—Willa would be interested in knocking her around a bit.

Speaking of that woman—it was her voice that next muttered. "Even her damn name is familiar."

Ezekial's boot nudged Willa's bringing her attention back to him. "Why are you looking for Craig?"

Willa sighed. She may as well be honest. She didn't reckon these brain addled idiots were going to let her out of this chair any other way. "I was told that who I'm looking for runs around with Craig Crane and that I could find Craig here."

Pete poked his head into her line of vision, a gap-toothed smile on his freckled face. "Craig runs around with two-year old girls and large black men nowadays. You lookin' for either one of those?"

Yanking at the ropes on her hands, Willa rolled her eyes. "Can't say that I am."

"Then who are you looking for?" Willa's attention went to another man who was speaking for the first time. This man was holding hands with the man named Gill. Apparently, this place was real interesting. "We aren't real eager for visitors around here."

Willa grunted. "Yeah, I noticed." She'd received warmer welcomes at jailhouses. "I'm looking for my brother—or half-brother anyway."

The cause of Willa's headache shoved her husband out of the way and entered Willa's line of vision. Her expression was wary. "Who is your brother?"

Willa had had enough. "His name is Willie, goddammit. Now can y'all just untie me and tell me where to find him? I'm tired of this damn chair."

The room fell silent. A pin could have been heard clattering upon the floor. Willa grew uneasy as the angry tension in the room morphed into something else. Willa grew uneasy. Did these people know Willie?

"Willie is your brother?" the woman muttered.

Again, Willa tugged at her restraints. "Yeah, I reckon. You know him? Can you tell me where to find him?" Hope blossomed in Willa's chest. "I've been hunting for any family I may have left for a decade or longer. Willie's my last lead."

"Uh..." The woman stepped back. It seemed everyone in the room placed more distance between them and her. Dread and unease swirled around Willa and suddenly she didn't want the answer. She had a real strong feeling that she wasn't gonna like it.

"Just untie me and let me go," she insisted. "I won't bother y'all anymore."

No one answered her and no one moved to untie her. Ezekial frowned. "How do we know she's telling the truth?"

"Because look at her!" Pete exclaimed. "She's the spitting image of Willie, right down to the gaucho pants. Jane's right. She's Willie with a set of tits."

"I never knew Willie," Ezekial reminded them. "But I'm glad Craig's home with Delilah."

Willamena's head was spinning while her gut was twisted and knotted inside her. They were speaking of Willie in the past tense. Please no. No, she couldn't have lost the only family in the world she had left before she'd even managed to find him!

"Willa, my name is Jane," the woman stated, coming around and untying Willa's hands. "I hate to have to tell you this, Willa, but Willie is dead. He was murdered close to six years ago."

Willa's heart broke in her chest. She couldn't seem to draw a full breath. Every bit of hope was ripped away from her with those few choice words. Her brother—the last hope she had for a family of her own—was dead. Willa's decade long journey had been a failure.