Title: Brokenheatsville

Summary: In a more tolerant Wild West, Miley is living in South Texas running a bit of a ranch located near the old west San Antonio (a bit of Lonesome Dove meets Hannah Montana). A new Lilly wanders into town one dusty afternoon. LILEY3

Pairing: Miley+Lilly=Liley.

Rating: …T? for language, and other foul stuff that they may come across.

Authors Note: So I've had this reaaally big thing for Western novels/movies since I read 'Innocent Hearts' on here by dcjp, and well when I couldn't find the actual book 'Innocent Hearts' by Radcliffe(I looked in three different book stores and was three times disappointed) I was I my school library and happened upon a novel called 'Lonesome Dove' by Larry McMurty and may I say...that is the finest book I have read in a very long time. Makes me wish I was a cowboy back I that day. And the television movies series does not do that book justice; you just get the basics not the whole thing. So as I have been drawn in by those two novels I've found myself longing for more and wanting to write a little Miley/Lilly thing about the old west. I won't be following the 'Lonesome Dove' story line, seeing as that novel is 945pages long and I do believe that I could not capture all of that with my crappy writing/ramblings. So I'll be trying my hand at a little thing something like it, but not quite.

And this story doesn't have much to do with the song 'Brokenheartsville' it just sounded like a good name. I could see the song relating back to one of the main characters of 'Lonesome Dove' though…Augustus McCrae, and my favorite in the novel by far.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montanna, Lonesome Dove(the movie or novel), or the song 'Brokenheartsville' by Joe Nichols. I do wish I did though, those people are some lucky ones.

Chapter One:

Miley Stewart sat in her old dusty half rotten rocking chair leaning back with a bottle of whiskey dangling dangerously in between her fore finger and middle finger. She sighed as she closed her eyes saying, "It's gonna be another hot night, huh Butch?" When the old Bloodhound dog lying next to her didn't answer she opened an eye and nudged him with a foot. "What's wrong with you? Heat getting' ya? Well that's fine…it's gettin' to me too. I can feel this damned heat in my bones." She sat resting a few more minutes before she heard the big dog stirring beside her. She opened her eyes again to see her friend and fellow ranch owner Oliver Oken riding in on his big sorrel mount.

"Dang it Miley, why you just sittin' there with your damn whiskey again?" He spat out some dust from his mouth as he jumped down and made his way to the house.

She rose slowly, stretching the stiffness from her muscles, "'Cause there ain't much else to do Oliver."

"There's plenty to do 'round here, I just got done helpin' the boys round up the last of them cattle we got from Mexico two nights ago." He kicked open their flimsy mess screen door, "Surprised them Mexicans haven't come back to try and get 'em back."

Miley followed him in only to flop down on to a chair inside, swigging her whiskey she says to the cook, Rico, "You cookin' dinner yet?" Rico glared at Miley, not caring much for the white folks he lived and cooked for…but he disliked his homeland of Mexico worse so he stayed. Then to Oliver she said, "Those lazy old Mexicans aren't gonna come for them, they're too busy eatin' beans."

Oliver shook his head at Miley, "You know we've had trouble with them Mexicans for years bein' so close to the boarder."

As he finished talking the door was flung open by two dusty ranch hands, Jackson and Travis. "Where's the food?" Jackson demanded.

"Shut up boy," Miley said to him, chunking a piece of wood on the table at him. "Ask old Rico about food not me, just cause I'm the only damned woman around for ten miles. I ain't the damned cook, that old Mexican is!"

Travis just watched nervously, he wasn't much for talking like Miley, and wasn't quiet sure how to treat her usually some what racist remarks since he was from up in New York and was taught to be more accepting. Usually when he talked it was only to Jackson or Oliver, the more laid back of the three.

Soon after Jackson and Miley's usual squabble over feminism and racism views was over they heard old Rico in the yard hitting their 'dinner bell' with a piece of crowbar he had found somewhere a few years ago after the bell had split in half a few years ago from him ringing it too loud. Not missing the opportunity to holler at somebody Miley leaped to her feet and screamed out into the yard with out opening the door, "You old daft fool, we're all inside! There's no reason to ring the damn bell, we know dinners almost ready!" Rico continued ringing the bell for up to five minutes though, paying no attention to Miley's frequently harsh words.

Once Rico was satisfied with his bell ringing for the night he slowly started to hobble back inside threw their back entrance of the house, "I know you are inside, I ring the bell because I like to." With that said he brought out their dinner which ended up being, beef stew with beef chunks and some onions. Their only dinner meal they ever had. After their quiet dinner, they all made their way outside to the porch to sit with Butch who had been laying out there since. Butch had no interest in the people much except for when they fed him in the mornings, he was getting old. Miley sat in her rocking chair, finishing up her whiskey. Oliver sat on the bottom step, stretching out his legs and just watching the moon, while Travis quietly sat a step above him. Jackson took up aother crappy chair in the corner of the porch, watching as Old Rico made his way into the porch too for his nightly knife sharpening.

"Tonight would've been a good night to go steal some more cattle out of Mexico, it's a half moon….perfect night for night travel." Oliver said as he watched the mooon.

Miley grunted in return, not caring much for cattle, all she wanted to do was sit quietly and nurse her whiskey. "What do we need more cows for? We cain't even eat all the damned ones we've got."

"Not for eatin', but maybe for startin' up a ranch somewhere north of here…somewhere green. I'm getting' sick of just lookin' at all this sand and getting dust all over me everytime I wanna jump down off my horse."

"You go ahead then, I'll just sit here and wait till you've got a ranch all set up…then maybe I'll join you and drink my whiskey on your porch…'till then…" She got up, sick of the talk here and aiming to get a bit of gambling in before the night was over, "I'll just head on into town and gamble a bit with some of the locals."

"All the way to San Antone tonight Miles?" Jackson looked at her in wonder, "Why?"

"Cause you fools aren't gonna give me no good gamblin', I can whoop all y'all." She headed off to the barn to saddle up her favorite paint filly, George, named after her old dog that got killed by one of their Mexican bulls they stole. Butch in her eyes had been a crappy replacement for old George, who was a hell of a lot more entertaining and fool enough to charge a Mexican longhorn bull. Butch just laid there dying on their porch, but he was alright to talk to when it got too hot to do much more than sit and drink.

Oliver watched her go and shook his head, "She needs to go on and get over that damn Sarah girl…it's been two years now and all she's done is drink and gamble. I'm gettin' right sick of it."

Jackson nodded in agreement, he was sick of his sister's attitude lately too.

"Two years ago she would've been roundin' up them Mexican cattle at the thought of leavin' this old joint, now all she wants to do is sit here and drink." Oliver continued, "It's down right pissing me off."

"Me too," Travis agreed, just feeling he should have some input on the nightly conversation.

"You think she'd have gotten over that girl by now, I know she broke Miley's heart but still…" Oliver glared off into the night at Miley's retreating form.

Author's Note: Tell me what you think? Worth a try?