A/N: Hey guys! I was thinking about this idea for quite some time and I finally had the guts to write this story. Since I am a fan of both Hannah Montana and the game Red Dead Redemption I thought about how could I mix those two? What kind of story could I write? I thought about it and went for it.

Slight explanation ... you don't have to have played the game in order to get this story … I'll just use the whole setting of the game because I think it's kinda epic ^^ and of course a few names that appear. I'll try to explain as much as possible, but if there are open questions please ask!

Another little thing to mention, I don't know much about the Wild West in the end of the 19th and beginning of the 20th century, so I'm really sorry if I make stupid mistakes! I googled and did a little research so the story won't sound unreal, but if there's something so completely wrong that you cringe in pain or something while reading, please also tell me! I'm happy to correct it ;)

Wow, long author note, but I think that was it! I hope you like the idea and I hope someone actually reads this! =)

To my Bigger Than Us readers (in case there still are any?): I didn't give up the story, but I'm kinda having a block with it, I'm trying my best to continue! I'm really sorry for the long delay!

Warning: This is a Miley/Lilly story! Don't like it? Good, then just don't read it ^^

Disclaimer: I don't own Disney, Hannah Montana, Rockstar Games, Red Dead Redemption, the characters, names, actors/actresses or songs used in this story!

Far Away

A Hannah Montana / Red Dead Redemption crossover Story, AU, OOC

The Outlaw

I close my eyes ... I concentrate on listening for a while ... a slight wind brushes over my ears, making a whistling sound ... a dry bush is rustling ... my horse is sniffling the ground beside me, looking for something to graze. I can hear when he is breathing in, and when he's blowing the air back out ... suddenly a coyote is crying and birds' wings are flapping ... after a short time the flapping fades in the distance ... ah, this is a moment of peace for me ... and then I hear hooves trampling on the sandy ground ...

I open my eyes ... a brunette strand of hair is swaying in the wind in front of my grey-blue eyes ... I look to the source of the noise. Good, it's only the regular stage coach heading from Armadillo to MacFarlane's Ranch. I almost thought it was trouble.

Only yesterday I was robbing a bank at Ridgewood Farm with my posse. Well, not my posse as in I'm the leader, I'm only a regular member. Anyways, we split the money evenly, so the chances are high that the sheriff of Armadillo, or better the sheriff of Cholla Springs, Leigh Johnson, and bounty hunters are looking for me.

I got to admit, I was a little bit proud when I first saw a wanted poster with my name on it: 'Wanted, dead 50$ or alive 100$, Miley Stewart, Stewart's Gang'.

Yes, my father is the leader of the posse. So basically I don't know a different lifestyle. I was born as a criminal and probably will die as one. I don't mind. I heard people asking themselves whether they have a fulfilled life or not. I know I have one. I can easily say that I feel free.

I watch the stage coach disappearing in the distance in the dust the wheels are raising. I look down the valley that spreads out in front of me. It's mainly a sandy brown area with scattered fade-green bushes, which now seem to appear grey and sad, a few trees, which also appear grey. Only one is standing out for me … it looks even sadder than the others, with one branch hanging towards the ground, as if it had to carry too much weight … and right at the end of the branch there's a bright green leaf which seems to be bringing new hope to the almost dead branch of the poor tree. I don't know why I can relate to this stupid little branch … maybe it's the hope it holds … hope … I don't know why I'm craving for this particular feeling. I feel free, but sometimes hope is all I can count on.

I see a few deer running around and then I feel my stomach growling, which brings me back to reality quite quickly. I haven't had any lunch today and it's almost evening. The sun is not on its highest point anymore, the light is not as white as it is at noon. It's starting to lean into yellow, seeming to bring a little more hope into the grey area in front of me.

I wonder if my mates are up for game for dinner. Since we're always careful that the lawmen don't find us we don't settle down in a place to breed cattle or grow crops. I reckoned a few of my folks have a ranch of some sort, such as my brother, Jackson, but I never found that safe, nor did my father. Too many of us were almost killed or even killed in their beds at night, when the lawmen gathered to run over their houses in a lousy and gutless ambush. I might not fear death, but I want to live as long as possible.

I then stand up, brushing the dust off of my jeans and chaps. As a woman I'm judged very often for wearing men's clothes, but I've always found them extremely comfortable, especially when riding. On the other hand, some men seem attracted to the fact I don't dress like all the other women do.

I unhitch my horse's reins from the bush it was tied to and throw them over his neck. He is such a beauty, chestnut brown coat with a very light-colored mane and tail, which sometimes looks like a faint silver when the sunlight shines on it. I smile and put my left foot in the stirrup, swinging myself on my horse. His name is Teasing Blue Sunlight, short Sunny, because my father caught him on the probably hottest day in his life. He told me that the light that day was playing tricks on him and he thought Sunny's mane was pure, liquid silver. And 'blue' is in the name because of his eyes. Since they are remarkably outstanding and eye-catching on his brown head we decided to put the word into his name. It was my idea, when I first saw him. I was only a kid back then.

"Alright, boy, let's go." I say and give his sides a light squeeze with my spurs. He immediately starts walking. The horse is the best and most reliable friend you can have as an outlaw. They won't betray you and they bring you everywhere you want to, even if you're hanging limply in the saddle.

We were on a small rock platform with a very narrow path leading up and I figure it's always a little hard for Sunny to climb back down and it takes some time. I continue scanning my environment, always looking at the herd of deer which are running around. Lucky for me the path is on the right side of the platform, otherwise I wouldn't see them anymore.

As soon as we reach the ground I give my horse a signal to run towards the deer and he starts out in full gallop. So far it was my most efficient way of hunting. I know that we're fast and I can aim perfectly with my rifle, so this should not be hard. As the deer recognize us they also start running around, stirring up dust and sand which burns in my eyes. Crap! I quickly wipe them with my sleeve and then get my rifle ready. I have already selected my target, inhale sharply and aim.

Boom! A loud thunder bawls from my rifle, birds were roused and now flee, chirping loudly and one deer lies dead on the ground. I exhale again and Sunny stops immediately at this action. I hop off my horse, my hands clutching the deadly weapon in my hand tightly and the first thing I do is scanning the area again. Nothing but wings flapping and my horse snorting nervously at the sudden action. No wolves, no other people around. I'm glad.

I then walk to the shot animal and poke it with my gun. No reaction. One shot that obviously killed the deer instantly. A brutal act which is, unfortunately, necessary for living. So, now for the hard part … I lean down and try to get a good grip to lift the corpse up but at my first try I fail miserably, landing directly on my butt. I sigh and get up on my feet again. It's one thing I learned. Don't dwell on stupid nothings, they happen and are not worth it. I try grabbing the deer at different places and lift it up again. This time I somehow manage to throw it over my shoulder. Perfect. I walk over to Sunny and throw it over him, right behind the saddle, and tie the dead animal to it, so it won't fall off on my way back to the hideout. I pat my horse for standing patiently and hop onto him again. Time to go back or otherwise it will be very dark. I make a clicking sound and Sunny starts trotting, away from the setting sun.


I see Armadillo right in front of me, but I decide to ride around the city. I am a wanted criminal there and I'm sure my posters are hanging all around town. The sun is now very low and my shadow is stretched out very long in front of me. I probably won't make it back before it gets dark, but that's okay. I just don't want wolves or cougars getting attracted to the dead animal behind me.

I then pass two men who also took the way around town, so they're probably not from Armadillo either, and I hear them say something interesting: " … and the bank owner's daughter is coming to Armadillo next week."

I immediately slow Sunny down. The bank owner's daughter? That woman is probably sleeping on money! I realized there are a few banks in the country which are all from the same owner. So that guy must be rich. And his daughter as well! If it is the bank I think it is …

"Excuse me!" I say to the men and wait until they catch up with me again. I see them looking at me questioningly and I ask: "Did y'all just say the bank owner's daughter is comin' to Armadillo?"

"That's right, miss. Lillian Truscott is coming to town. Why the sudden interest?" one of the two men asks a counter question. He seems very tall and has a dark mustache. Snap, I actually wasn't prepared for that but lucky for me I have a lot of experience in making up lies quickly, so I do just that: "Well, we don't get people like her around here all the time." It wasn't even a lie, but that's not all I'm interested in. Not even close. But at least he told me her name. So it is the Truscott daughter. Very nice.

"That's true." the other man agrees with me and even gives me a light smile. Good, now that I'm on rather positive terms with them, and so far they don't even seem suspicious about me, I continue my questioning: "You know why she's coming here? It's not like there is anythin' special to see, nor is this a town with all the fancy stuff she is used to."

Both of them shake their heads, and the mustached one answers me: "No, I just heard it from a friend who talked to the banker. I think it's because her father sent her for something. But I also just might be wrong."

Her father sent her? Well, that kind of makes sense … but I could care less why she's coming, I want to know more details. "I see. But do you know when she'll be here? I mean, I can't miss an occasion like that!" I ask them with a fake smile on my lips. Inside it's more like a devilish smirk. I must tell my father about this.

The one guy picks on his moustache, visibly thinking but then replies: "A week exactly from today, it was. Yeah, Monday next week. Apparently she'll be arriving in a pretty carriage, but I don't know the time."

I grin victoriously, hopefully it's not too visible for them. That idiot just told me more information than I had expected, but I won't complain. I then suddenly feel very blinded from the sun, even though it's behind me, as I was constantly looking to my sides when I was talking to the two, and I am reminded that I don't want to ride in the dark: "Thank you for the information, fellows. I better get goin' now!"

"Anytime, miss." the moustache-guy replies with a friendly smile on his lips. The other man, who was rather eying me suspiciously all the time, now suddenly asks, before I can go: "Miss?" to get my attention. I hope he didn't recognize my face … I just raise my eyebrows to signal to him to talk. He points out to the deer which is still placed securely behind me and then asks: "You shot that yourself?"

I smile again and simply reply: " 'course." He looks a little surprised, and now says: "Not bad for a slender woman as yourself. Can I maybe invite you to a cup of coffee or something?" I inwardly roll with my eyes but stay friendly: "Thank you, but no thank you. I need to get back to my daddy or otherwise he'll get mad. And y'all don't want my daddy to get mad at any time."

A disappointed look spreads on his face, but I could roll my eyes again at this. I'd really like a conversation with men, including some of our posse members, who don't flirt at any point. They're very rare. I'm not that easily interested in a guy. In fact, I never was really interested in a guy. I say goodbye to them again and then finally ride away, before he wants to invite me to something else.

"Hya!" I say and Sunny starts galloping. I should move on more quickly now because of the slight delay. Though that delay might be worth a fortune. I must tell my father the news!


As I arrive at our hideout, which is in Tumbleweed at the moment, there is hardly any light left from the sun. The whole area now seems completely colorless and dark grey. Some spots pitch black, but I made it back safely.

There were rumors that Tumbleweed is haunted and basically very few people, especially civilians, come around this area. My dad and one of the guys once checked this place out, and of course there were no ghosts, but there were also no people, so we decided to settle down here for some time. Maybe we can stay here a little longer, because of the fact that everybody still thinks this place is haunted.

We keep the lights dimmed though and try not to make it too obvious that this place is rather crowded now because we don't want the government to come here. I enter the 'town' by crossing an old bridge, which makes weird squeaking noises at every step Sunny takes. I see Randy and Amos, our two guardians for tonight, tightening their grips on their rifles as they see me approaching in the dim light of the torch.

"Who's there?" I hear Randy's voice asking and I immediately answer: "It's me, Miley." Randy is a very slim figure, sandy hair, a messy beard, always wearing a heavy leather cloak, and a dusty and dark cowboy hat. We saved him from a hungry pack of wolves one day and he decided to join our posse.

Their stiff postures immediately loosen up at the sound of my voice. Randy is the one to talk again: "Welcome back, stranger."

"I see you brought home dinner?" Amos chimes in as the deer gets visible for them. I can almost see him drooling. Amos is - more or less - my father's favorite member. He's been in the posse ever since I can think. From what I know they were friends for a long time, so this kind of makes him the right hand. He's a chubby fellow, always up for good food, wearing a long moustache, combed back hair under his brown cowboy hat, a shirt with a leather vest over it, jeans and chaps and always polished silver spurs on his boots. He's also the person all the guys go to when there's something on their minds. He's a good listener, like a big brother or daddy to everyone.

"Did ya expect anythin' else from me?" I mock with a sly grin on my face. They know that I'm their best 'marksman', rather markswoman, and I always bring back something to eat when I'm gone for a day. Amos holds his hands up in defeat and replies: "Never, Miley. You the 'man'. Now go see your father, he's worried." I just nod and ride towards the big house on the small hill, where my father is staying.

Feeding the guys is hard, hunting in a large group is impossible as we only move together when we're attacking, otherwise we'd draw too much attention to ourselves, and Sunny can't carry more than one deer at a time … two when I'm not riding him. Sometimes we go out hunting in groups of two or three, to make more bait.

Money isn't very good right now, and not just because we're quite a large posse. Of course we can afford food after a successful prowl, but that doesn't stay long. We sometimes also rob general stores, but just like the bought goods, it doesn't stay long.

But maybe, if the hideout stays as safe as it is right now, we can settle down here, buy some cattle, and build this place up again. This used to be a city once, why not again? But every time I had this thought, or started to like this thought, we were overrun by a huge government force and we had to flee. Maybe we're just doing something wrong …

"Miley, is that you?" I hear my father's voice. He's sitting on the front porch in his chair, smoking a pipe. His clothes are similar to those of Amos. Boots, spurs, jeans, chaps, long shirt with a vest over it and of course a cowboy hat, a light grey one. I hop off of Sunny and reply: "Yeah, daddy, it's me."

"You're very late, young lady!" he starts in his stern voice, which just makes me roll with my eyes. He worries too much. And he's always being overly protective. Convincing him to let me ride around alone took me days of talking and talking. "I brought home dinner." I try to change the subject.

He gets up and walks over to Sunny, eying the deer suspiciously. "Good job, bud." he then calls me by my nickname only he is allowed to call me. I feel a hint of pride running through me and I have to smirk. I then remember my conversation of the two men and say: "And … I had a little chat with two guys … I found out that Lillian Truscott, the daughter of the Truscott Bank owner, will be in Armadillo next week. Ridin' here in a pretty coach which is probably screamin' out to be ambushed."

My father walks over to me and puts his hand onto my shoulder, I can see him smiling and he says: "It's never disappointin' when you head out for a day or two. I'm very proud of you, Miley."

"Thanks, dad." I reply and then start taking the saddle and bridle off of Sunny. He also deserves to rest. It's been a long day. My dad takes the deer and walks into the house with it, saying: "I'll prepare a great dinner and while I do so we will discuss the whole bank daughter issue, alright?"

"Sure, daddy. I'll be right there." I reply and then turn back to my horse. I pat his neck affectionately and whisper to him: "Such a good boy, Sunny." I place a kiss on his muzzle and then shoo him away, into the small paddock we set up for the horses. I smile when I see him running around and kicking a few times. As if he didn't run enough today. I guess it must be quite a relief for him without that saddle.

I turn to walk towards the big house, walking up the few steps onto the front porch and into the dimly lit room, my mind already settling down for a calm evening and hopefully a successful discussion of what to do with the news of Lillian Truscott's visit in Armadillo.

A/N: So this was chapter one, I'd really appreciate comments and especially critique on this story, since this is something really new to me to write. I know it's just fanfiction but I want to at least make it sound realistic!

Yes, I also made Miley and the gang speak in an accent. I tried not to rewrite every word which might be pronounced differently, just so much that you're reminded that they speak in an accent. And I intentionally didn't write the thoughts in an accent because I still want it to be nicely read. I know that people back then probably didn't think like that, but like I said … it's just fanfiction ;)

Thanks for reading so far!