Author's Note: I have a good feeling about this fanfic. I hope you enjoy it.

Prologue

1863, Texas

I curled up in a melancholy ball, in the thick crops of a field. My long flaxen locks were tangled, resembling a bird's nest, and the wind manipulated the tendrils in a swinging motion, brushing across my face as if trying to offer me comfort. I only tucked my head away in response to the mild gusts, burrowing my face in my lap, wishing my life away.

I didn't really have a life though, I reminded myself mentally. As soon as my big brother had saluted me wryly and gave me an affectionate kiss to the cheek, everything good seemed to rust, and collapse. My father was in southern Texas, and I truly had no idea if he was still alive. Nor did I know if my mother was alive. The last I'd seen of my greying, loving mother was when I had been pried from her warm embrace, plucked from my home, and taken to a strange town miles away. I was introduced to a gentleman called John, although he was far from a gentleman. He eyed me with an eerie glint in his sinister eyes, and wrapped his long fingers around my arm, tugging me inside his large manor. Although there was an imposing air of wealth in the huge home, I wanted nothing more than to run back to my cramped – yet homey – house with my mother, I knew the odds were intimidatingly awful. I had no idea where I was, how to get back home, and this man – John – seemed keen on keeping a close eye on me. The mere thought gave me a prickly shiver.

"Your duties will be assigned to you in the mornin'," John informed me, his voice somehow seeming slimy. "When you're not workin', you're staying out of sight. Got it?" I just stared back, unable to allow myself to back down from his dark eyes. "I am your master; my wife is your mistress. You dare say otherwise, and your punishment will be severe." I didn't doubt it.

Nevertheless, the following year were bordering on being labelled as 'Hell'. I was assigned regular cleaning and washing duties of all family members' clothing. On rare occasions, John permitted me to work outside with Oliver, the main gardener of the estate. Although it was my most enjoyable days at the Stanley estate, I loathed the feeling of knowing John thought as though I owed him something in return. I owed him nothing – I was a slave.

But it all built up to this very day.

John was high in the hierarchy of the Confederate Army, which my brother had joined two years ago, when he was the illegal age of seventeen. Whilst John was out of town till noon, I didn't hesitate to slip into his dark oaken office, sifting through the stacks of paperwork on the oversized desk. Finding nothing of importance, I shuffled over to the cabinets, yanking open each drawer and checking the files. Again, I came up empty. My hope had yet to falter, and I opened the looming cupboard in the far corner of the office, my eyes widening when I realised what was pinned up inside the cupboard. It was a map. Coloured pins were placed carefully in certain parts, mainly around the Texan borders. It was the army positions. I attempted to figure out which colour symbolised what, but to no avail. I stepped back from the detailed map, considering what I should do next. Guessing a location was a far-fetched idea, so I chose to discover where compiled lists of Confederate soldiers were placed in this office. I peered through the rest of the cupboard, and noticed the filing cabinet beside the cupboard, all drawers locked securely. A devious grin fluttered across my lips. Well, it wasn't like I would be in the vicinity when John returned from his trip. I filtered through several drawers until I found a crowbar hidden underneath his desk. I quirked my brow, and pushed the kink of the crowbar in the top of the first filing cabinet drawer, gripping it tightly as I pulled it upwards, catching the whining protests of the cabinet as I broke the drawer open. I grinned vehemently, briefly wondered if my past year of slavery had pushed me into insanity. Not wasting time, I sifted through the files, but only came across recent recruits. I broke open the second drawer, and giggled manically, holding the crowbar underneath my armpit as I flicked through the files. If Jasper had been in the Confederacy for two years now, I guessed he would've been promoted. He had natural instincts and great capabilities that the army would be interested in. The folders in the cabinet were placed in order of rank. So I pulled out several folders that were of higher rank than recruits, and scanned through them, knowing my brother's name would stand out like a red flag to a bull.

And it did. My breath caught sharply, and I pushed my tangled tendrils from my face as I stared at the page on my lap.

Major Jasper Whitlock ϯ

I stared for several minutes, my eyes trained on the symbol beside my brother's name. No. My throat constricted. No. There was a mistake. No! My brother was not dead. He'd run away, gone missing. He was not dead.

A strangled sound tore from my dry throat, and I pushed the file from my lap, letting it slip onto the floor, creating a mess. No. He was okay, wherever he was. I abruptly stood, my fingers trembling violently. I shook my head ferociously, my breath quickening. I released a sound that could not be recognised, and my muscles clenched and ached. I reached out feverishly, brutally wiping everything off the desk of my pigheaded master. I gave a strangled growl, throwing the small vase into the perpendicular wall.

"You idiot!" I cried aloud, huffing and panting unevenly. "You stupid prick, why did you go?" I violently shoved the chain onto its side, slamming the crowbar into the perfectly crafted desk. Not anymore. Over and over, I bashed the desk in angry horror. "You got yourself killed!" My words became incoherent mutters, and I threw the crowbar across the room, shaking as I stumbled from the room, the door left wide open, displaying the disarrayed mess I'd made. Dianna watched me wide-eyed as I hurried down the staircase, pushing myself into a sprint as I burst through the large set front doors, running into the large field beside the mansion. Tears threatened to spill, and I furiously forced them away. The blisters imbedded in my feet were forgotten as my soles smacked against the hard soil. I clumsily climbed over the fence, crying out in fury as my dress latched onto the wiring. I tugged it ruthlessly from its captor, which resulted in a large tear down the side of the thin fabric. I continued trudging through the field, my pace slowing as my pants fastened. With a heaving chest, I crumpled and collapsed in the middle of the dense crops.

And now, I was attempting to sort my thoughts into a chronological order. Jasper… I squeezed my eyes, caging the hot tears in the ducts of my eyes. He wasn't gone, I surely told myself. He was a logical, strategic soldier. He knew what he was doing. He couldn't have been outsmarted by his enemy. I shook my head, and in doing so I also stubbornly shook away my irresolution. He was alive. Somewhere.

I ordered myself to focus – to figure out his possible locations. He was in the south-east of Texas when he was last seen. His platoon had been assigned to Galveston. On the file that had Jasper's name handwritten, with the thick, dark symbol beside it, it also displayed the location of his supposed death. Galveston – that was a start. The Stanley Manor was resided on the outskirts of Alvin, which wasn't too far from Galveston. But, would Jasper still be anywhere near Galveston? Galveston had been listed as the platoon's temporarily base, but it wasn't generally where all their missions took place. He could have been on a mission as far as Angleton. I sighed, furrowing my brows. Where was I to begin my search? I could go to Galveston, ask for Jasper's exact whereabouts when he was labelled dead. But I didn't know how long ago it was. I didn't know if the platoon kept any sort of related records, or if the platoon was even still based in Galveston. As much as I would've liked one, I didn't end up with any solid plan. I just had to rely on my luck – which had been shocking in the past sixteen years of my life.

I grappled with getting back on my feet, and I instinctively crouched lowly beneath the surface of the sea of crops. I couldn't risk being seen now, especially after causing such a scene in the foyer. I had to get to the stables, which was behind the large back lawn of the property, and then had to manoeuvre a horse through the fields until I reached the crossroad at the corner of the paddocked field. I hadn't ridden a horse in over a year, but I didn't doubt that I was capable of the task I mentally set myself.

It took an estimated twenty minutes to reach the stables, and I clambered over the fence, slinking into the stables after a careful scan of my surroundings. I studied each horse, and decided on the largest – a lean, black stallion. I knew it was John's personal horse, which gave me an even better reason to take it. After he'd taken my life from my, this was a small price he'd pay in return. I hoisted a saddle over the horse, gearing the handsome creature up for a long trip ahead. I placed a bucket of feed under his nostrils as a gift, and stroked his sleek mane whilst finishing saddling him up. I strapped a bag onto his side, tucking in water bottles that I hurriedly filled from the well beside the stables. I huffed out a breath, swiping the sweat from my hairline as I stared into the deep eyes of the stallion.

"We're goin' to find him," I whispered surely. Twisting the leather rope between my fingers, I steered the horse out of the stables, and pushed open the nearby gate to the crop field. I heaved myself onto the back of the stallion, and grazed my fingertips through its mane. Staring back at the large picturesque mansion that was the Stanleys, I couldn't help but smirk, despite the situation. I would never return, I vowed. Never.

I clucked my tongue, and tugged the leather rope, steering the stallion through the fields. I leaned forward in anticipated adrenaline, fastening the horse's speed to a canter. The crops whipped menacingly at my feet, but I didn't care. I was leaving – I was going to find my brother.

Without much difficulty, I passed through the crossroads at the corner, choosing to ride along the very edge of the gravel road. My eyes were trained ahead, not shifting. The warm air caressed my skin, and I adjusted my dirtied and torn dress. Sweat blemished my forehead in the form of small beads, and I wiped them against the sleeve of my dress. The stallion gave a snorting huff, still maintaining the speed I'd initially challenged him with.

Above, the blue skies had warped into that of twilight. The crescent moon became a clearer feature of the sky, and I spared it a gaze before continuing the concentrate on my route to find my brother – although I had no idea where he was. I slowed down the horse momentarily, reaching back for a bound water bottle, sipping at it, relaxing as it slid down my dry throat soothingly. Sliding the bottle back into the side pouch, I silently ordered the stallion to speed up. He obeyed happily.

Time was a blur – it seemed like only minutes but like hours at the same time. The sky further darkened, leaving it's twilight shade behind as the night took grip. The glowing moon gleamed elegantly, casting dim light on my path. I'd pulled the stallion back to a trot, letting him relax in the peaceful air of the Texas night. I wondered what Jasper was doing. I wondered if he was struggling to get by, or if he'd found a safe haven and his life was turning out to be wonderful. I wondered if he worried about me like I did him.

Squinting tiredly at the track before me, my eyes suddenly widened as I registered the sight I saw. A woman. She was standing in the middle of the road, wearing a corset dress. I slowed the stallion to a halt, squinting in confusion. What on earth was she doing out here? I hadn't seen a town for hours. She must be lost.

I peered down at her, my lips seemingly incapable of forming a smile after what seemed like decades of servitude. "Ma'am? Are you lost?" She stepped under the glower of the moon, the light reflected from her pale skin. She peeked up underneath the brim of her hat, and I swear I could see red in her pupils. I frowned in confusion. I was starting to imagine things from my lack of sleep.

She smiled slowly up at me. "I believe so," she drawled deliberately. I bowed my head as I pushed myself over the side of the stallion, stepping onto my two feet and gazing at the strange woman.

"Ruby," I stated frankly, shrugging my shoulders.

"I'm Maria," she replied, her smile twisting into that of malevolency. "Sorry to inconvenience you, but I need your help, please."

I frowned again. "I don't believe we're heading the same way," I bluntly replied, my distrustful gaze clear. Her smile didn't falter though.

With a malicious smirk, she blurred out of sight. I blinked, stepping back in disorientation. I bumped into the stallion, and turned with an apology on my tongue, until I realised it hadn't been the horse. It was Maria.

Her canines gleamed with ominousness, and she lunged at me.

Everything vanished into blackness.

Author's Note: I hope you all enjoyed this prologue. It's simply introduces Ruby and aspects of her past. Please review and tell me if you like it or offer constructive critisism. I plan on updating once a week, so this coming Sunday is my target to upload the first chapter. If this plan changes, I will let you know! :)

Thanks!