Howdy!

I was so excited to see that the prologue received positive reviews and people were adding it to their favourites and list of stories to follow. It really made me smile despite the horrible week that I am having. In three days time (due to corona virus and the plummeting economy) I will find out if I am to be made redundant, and this terrifies me! I have a strong support network in my family and friends but writing this story is really helping to take my mind off of things so I am so happy to hear that people are enjoying my words so far.

As long as people are enjoying this story I will continue to post chapters!

Also if anyone is interested, I have created a Spotify playlist that I listen to whilst writing this story and use for inspiration, it's country/western and really puts you in the perfect mood/mindset for this story so if you want the full experience just search for the playlist 'Wrecking Need' on Spotify.

Here is chapter 1, I hope you enjoy and I always appreciate feedback or even just a smiley face! :D

Chapter One

Isabella jumped slightly as her trunk was thrown to the ground before her, narrowly missing her toes. She frowned at the coachman who hadn't bothered to spare her a second glance as he clambered back onto the coach. The further west she travelled; the rarer manners became it would seem.

The horse drawn coach shot away, kicking up the orange dust that seemed to coat everything within sight, and Isabella was left alone in Placerville. The actual travelling had not been as unpleasant as she had assumed it would be, although it had been a lengthy journey. But now three weeks later, here she was; she had reached the destination where her quest to find for her brother would commence.

But first, a proper rest was needed. The young girl surveyed her surroundings with new-born eyes. This was a whole different world to the one she had grown up in, there were no roads, only dirt paths with wheel tracks dug deep into the ground. There appeared to be no brick buildings, but mainly wooden structures that only stretched two floors high. Everything that the town had to offer seemed to be located on this one long street. And then there was just miles and miles of nothing else but more dirt and the occasional cacti.

Isabella sighed heavily as she reached for her trunk and begun dragging it towards the hotel. As she approached the stairs, she took a deep breath as she prepared to haul it up. One step, two step-

"No, no, no," the girl muttered as she felt the trunk slip from her grasp and tumble back to the bottom. She coughed as she inhaled the dust that soared up into the air, her hand clutching at the neck of her dress as if it would help.

"Are you okay there, Miss?" Isabella turned to the small voice behind her. A boy, no older than twelve was perched against a pillar with his arms crossed, seemingly relaxed. His face and hands were filthy, as were his clothes which were covered with the orange dust that had choked her seconds before.

"Erm, I- yes, I'm fine." The boy's confidence was a little unnerving for Isabella, who already felt completely out of her element. "I'm just-" Isabella pointed awkwardly at her bag and then the hotel in explanation.

"I could help you."

"You can help me?" Isabella repeated back, her eyes narrowed as a cheeky grin materialised on the boy's face.

"Sure I can, for a small fee." Isabella couldn't help her eyes from rolling skyward. She didn't bother responding as she stormed back down and approached her trunk from a different angle this time. Out of the corner of her eye she noted that the boy had not budged from his position but was watching on as she wrestled to lift the bag vertically.

She grunted as she reached the first step, only five more to go. Why were all the buildings built so high off the ground here? She thought irritably. It wasn't even that the bag was heavy, she had packed light, even though all of her meaningful possessions were inside this bag. It was just not designed for a young lady of her size to carry it tis all. As she reached the second step, she blew her breath upward to stir the hair that was gradually working its way loose from the bun she had styled on top of her head.

Another discreet peek at the boy proved that he was still enjoying the show.

"Oh, ouch, oh damn." She cursed as the bag slid from her clutch once again, grinding uncomfortably against her fingernails. Wedging her foot so the bag would not fall back to the bottom she growled at the young boy. "Fine, I'll give you five cents."

"Twenty." The boy haggled.

"Five."

"Fifthteen."

"Five."

"Okay, okay I'll accept ten."

He had taken a couple of steps forward and Isabella honestly could not find the effort to argue; she just wanted to sleep.

"Fine, 10 cents." The boys grin stretched from ear to ear as he hastened to help the struggling girl and together, they worked the bag to the top of the stairs. From the pouch that was dangling over her shoulder, Isabella withdrew ten cents and tossed it into the boys waiting hand. "You drive a hard bargain."

"For another ten, I'll carry it inside for you." That sassy smile was back.

"Hey! Get outta' here Seth!" Both Isabella and the boy jumped as a third person appeared from within the hotel. The tall man waved his arms as he shooed the boy away who snickered as he sprinted out of reach. "Sorry about him, you didn't give him any money did ya'? He'll just keep coming back for more now."

"Oh, erm-"

"Never mind, you heading in here then?" He pointed back to the hotel.

"Yes sir." The man grunted in response before lifting her trunk without a hint of trouble and lead the way inside the property. Taking a swift glance around the foyer Isabella recoiled at the sight of the ginormous bear head mounted on the wall above the unlit fireplace.

"Gorgeous ain't she?" The man nodded his head in the direction of the bear. "Hunted her myself, way up in Vancouver two winters ago." He stated proudly as he crossed behind a counter. Isabella didn't care to admit that she was not impressed but just tilted her head silently in acknowledgment. "Right well, a room for the night will cost ya $2, if you want a bath too that'll cost ya' another fifty cents."

"Yes please, to the bath too." Isabella internally sighed in relief at the thought of being able to freshen up, there had not been many baths available on her journey thus far. She handed the money over to the man who procured a key from the cabinet behind him, before joining her back round the other side of the counter and retrieving her bag.

"Yer in room four. The bath will be filled at six and is in that room over there, I'll let you go in first because the guy in room seven- well he, yeah," he trailed off, pointing out the door as they passed before entering her room and setting her bag in the corner. "You travelling through or something Miss er..?"

"Or something. And it's Miss Sullivan" Isabella muttered as she followed him into the room. It was a simple room with a window facing out onto the main street. The decor was in dire need of being upgraded but the bed looked comfortable all the same.

"Well then, I'll be around if ya need anything, remember six 'o'clock for the bath. Oh, and my name's Pete."

"Thank you, Pete."

"Miss Sullivan." Pete nodded his head and tipped his imaginary hat as he closed the door behind him. Isabella let out a long, deep sigh as she rested on the edge of the bed and gazed warily out of the window at the foreign town. A couple of men on horses rode down the street, dressed in work shirts and vests with their hats tilted low over their eyes. In the opposite direction a lone woman strutted into the saloon, her clothes so unlike Isabella's. She did not fit in here, that much was obvious. Did her brother fit in with these people? She wondered.

He had moved out this way about seven years ago and apart from the rare handwritten letters he sent, which were always so brief, Isabella had no knowledge of his new life. Coming all this way in her effort to find him had been a great risk on her part, the last letter he had sent was a little over nine months ago. And he had not stated where he was or where he planned on going. However, in a letter he had previously posted to her, he had mentioned Oregon Country and his plans to trek South. So, when Isabella had first started to devise this master plan, she had studied a map of the West and narrowed down her starting point to Placerville.

She would rest tonight, enjoy her bath and some hot food. Tomorrow she would begin her investigation. Maybe she would start with the sheriff's office, or maybe the saloon, perhaps if he had found work on a ranch the farmers in this town may have crossed paths with him at some point.

Isabella rubbed her face wearily; she knew not to get her hopes up too much. This was only day one and the first town that she hadn't just passed through; the odds of her finding her brother tomorrow were not in her favour. But there was still a small part of her that emitted pure excitement. Even with her daunting task laid out before her, this was physically the closest she had been to her brother in seven years!

"Now you listen hear boy, you will tell that girl, that you will not be seeing her again." Mr Sullivan was a terrifying man, at over six feet he towered over his children and wife. His brutal temper and clenched fists were enough to settle any dispute, normally. But this time her brother refused to back down.

"No father, I won't be doing that. We love each other!" Isabella quivered with fright; she could see the anger increasing in her father's murderous eyes. What was her brother thinking, refusing their father?! The older man thundered towards his son in a blind rage and Isabella closed her eyes, refusing to witness the beating that she was sure was about to happen.

"I will not have you dishonour this family's name! I have worked too hard for you to drag it through the dirt! And for what? That- that whore!" Isabella flinched in her mother's arms at the sound of flesh striking flesh. But then it was silent. Hesitantly the ten-year-old child opened her eyes as her mother's arms slipped from around her.

"Oh, my dear boy, what have you done to your father? He will be so angry when he wakes up." Her mother dashed forward but didn't reach for her son nor her husband, her hands were fisted tight in the skirts of her dress.

"I can't be here when he wakes up. I'm leaving mother. I can't allow him to force us apart. I love her." He clutched at his hair in frustration, his knuckles were torn and bloody but the adrenaline rushing through his veins kept the pain at bay.

"What about me? You can't leave us!" The small child darted towards her brother, her hero, and grasped at his arms desperately, she could not reach any higher. The young man knelt down and crushed his young sister in a tight embrace. "You can't go." The young Isabella sniffled pathetically.

"I can't stay baby sister. I won't be gone forever." He whispered, with his sister still enfolded in his arms he glanced up at his mother who had silent tears trailing down her cheeks. "I'll head West and set up something over there, when I have landed on my feet, I will send word. Maybe you will find the strength to join me one day." With one more reassuring squeeze for his sister, he rose to his feet and raced from the room.

From his bedroom above there was the sound of rustling and of drawers and doors being pulled open in haste. Then suddenly he was back in the doorway of their lounge, his eyes filled with tears for the family he was running away from, a large sack hanging from his shoulder.

"Hey Bumble Bee?" He called, using his special nickname for her. The young girl met her brother's eyes, eyes that were so like her own. "Busy bees don't have time for sorrow, remember that okay? You're going to be just fine. Mother-"

"I know, now go. Before your father comes around. Be safe my boy. I love you." With one swift glance around the downstairs of his childhood home, the young man fled from the house, the front door slamming behind him. The sound spurred young Isabella into motion as she hurried to follow.

"Jasper! Jasper, wait!" The young girl charged forward only to be stopped by her mother's strong hold around her upper arm. "Let me go! Jasper!" She fought hard but was no match for her mother's strength.

"Hush Isabella, we have to let him go." Her mother's arms wrapped her in a restraining hold which was supposed to comfort the child but she did not feel the warmth her mother was projecting. She felt cold.

"My brother-"

"Your brother must go away; your father will not allow him to be happy. We have to let him go. We will see him again sweet girl. We will see him again."

Isabella jolted upright in the bed; her surroundings unfamiliar to her as she attempted to recall her location. The heat in the room was intense and so unlike what she was used to, it felt like a physical being was pushing against her skin. After forcing her beating heart to slow with careful and deliberate breathing she gently manoeuvred herself out of the large bed.

With the heart-breaking memories of her brother's departure fresh in her mind, she gritted her teeth and began to ready herself for the day ahead.

As she dressed, Isabella realised that her standard wardrobe would not do well in the new climate she was trying to adjust to. With her underskirt consisting of two layers and the heavy material of her dress pulling her down she decided to forgo her corset. After observing the local's fashion the night before from her window, she had come to the conclusion that she would stand out in this crowd. She felt ridiculously overdressed with the frills and ribbon that adorned her dress. After placing her hair back up into its usual bun Isabella grabbed her small bag from within her trunk that contained some money and the small photograph of her brother. Scanning the room, she spied a large picture frame that would do nicely to hide the rest of her money behind. Mrs Jenny had made it abundantly clear to Isabella that she should ensure her money was concealed and to not carry too much on her person. The west country was not as safe as her home town had been, there were lawless men running around and she shouldn't let down her guard.

She locked her door behind her and rushed through the hotel until she was out on the decking. The heat was fierce as the morning sun beat down upon her, the ground below her feet was emitting its own warmth as the sun heated everything that it touched. Maybe new clothing would be needed sooner rather than later, Isabella reasoned with herself. So, her first stop would be to the local dressmaker, if this town even had one.

"Good morning Miss," Isabella narrowed her eyes as they focused on the young boy at the bottom of the steps.

"Good morning Seth." For a moment he seemed shocked by her use of his name before shrugging it off and smiling that boyish grin at her.

"Can I be of assistance Miss?" He asked with false politeness.

"No thank you." She stated before descending the stairs and heading left, only to look right, then back left. The sweat was already beginning to pop up on the back of her neck.

"Urg, fine. Five cents, where's the nearest dressmakers?"

"Well, for ten cents-"

"Five cents."

"That way. On the left just past the gunsmith." Seth pointed right as he graciously accepted the five cents Isabella handed him. It was barely a hundred yards away but as Isabella pushed the door open, she could feel the sweat beading on her lower back.

"Well hello there, Miss! My name is Sadie Adler. What can I do for ya' today? My, that is a pretty dress." Isabella had barely taken two steps into the store as Mrs Adler fawned over her dress, reaching out as if to touch the material. "You aren't from around here are ya'?"

"No, no I'm not." Isabella glanced down at the lady's attire and compared it to her own. "I'm looking for something more appropriate, please." Mrs Adler clucked her tongue as she gave Isabella a once over.

"Yes, I think, I just might have some stuff that will fit ya, already made. I like to keep some stock spare for on the spot purchases ya see." Isabella wandered after Mrs Adler to the rear of the store and waited patiently as she searched through some piles of material.

The shop boasted a large supply of different fabrics for sale; cottons, leathers, fine wool. Advertised at the front of the shop was what appeared to be a full cowboy outfit, hat and all! The style of clothing was not what Isabella was used to at all, but the colours too varied from what was her norm. Back home, colour signified wealth, the brighter and more ostentatious the better! Here it seemed to be about blending in and practicality, which she found she preferred.

"Yes, I have some blouses good to go, should fit. Now skirts," Mrs Adler turned to another section of clothing before pulling back abruptly. "I don't suppose you're one of these strange girls that wants to wear trousers are ya?" The dressmaker stared at Isabella suspiciously. What on earth could she mean? Ladies don't wear trousers, do they? Isabella wondered.

"Erm, no ma'am. Skirts are- yes skirts please." The easy smile instantly returned to the woman's face as she turned back to her task. After a minute or so she presented what appeared to be ankle length skirts, one black, one a muddy brown colour and a light beige.

"Now these, may be a bit big, but nothing a belt can't fix or I could alter them to fit you. How long are ya' in town for? It would take me about a week."

"Oh, I haven't decided yet," Isabella answered. Her future was so unstable at this point that she decided to just take the skirts as they were.

And so, Isabella trailed after Mrs Adler as she manoeuvred around her store until she felt that she had all that she required to survive this new heat. As Mrs Adler totalled up her purchases and took payment, Isabella decided to kick off the hunt for her brother right here.

"Do you perhaps recognise this man at all?" Isabella withdrew the photograph of Jasper from her small pouch and presented it to the lady. She held her breath in anticipation as she waited for Mrs Adler to respond.

"No, sorry, can't say that I do dear." She shook her head as she squinted at the photo. "Handsome young man he is though. I think I'd remember a face like that."

"Oh, well thank you for your services." Isabella politely returned before backing out of the shop into the street, her arms now full of wrapped parcels that contained her new purchases.

"I can carry those for you Miss."

"Seth, the hotel is right there. I do not need your services, thank you." Isabella declared as she marched back to the hotel to change her clothing.

Isabella was delighted when the first blouse she put on fit perfectly, and as the dressmaker had said, the skirt was a little loose but the belt did a good job of holding it in place. The new style of clothing was refreshing for Isabella who had grown up with petticoats, underskirts, corsets and ruffles. It was freeing to be able to kick her feet around and not trip over the fabric that swirled around her ankles. The new lace up boots on her feet felt rather strange though, the shoe had a little heel and yet they were the softest thing she had ever worn. As she surveyed her appearance in the mirror in her room, she decided that the fashion out West was the first thing that she did not mind.

As Isabella re-emerged from the hotel for the second time that day, she noted that the heat was also not so bad now that she was dressed accordingly. Her mission clear, she headed straight for the saloon with her brother's picture clasped tightly in her hands. There were a couple of horses tied to the post outside, their tails swished in the pleasant breeze that was passing through the street. They were beautiful, majestic creatures that shuffled to watch her as she passed by and continued up the stairs to the decking that circled around the saloon.

A lone man stood outside smoking, his ankles crossed and eyes following her every move. His chaps were tucked into his boots that reached mid-calf, the spurs on the rear shone brightly in the midday sunlight, highlighting how sharp and vicious they appeared. Isabella had to fight down the urge to turn around and hightail it out of there, but she had not come this far just to bolt at the first hurdle.

Instead she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and marched over to the man who she guessed was in his 20's. As she approached his eyes widened in disbelief, the corner of his lips turned up in amusement as he stood up to his full height.

Embarrassingly her hand visibly shook as she held her brothers photograph out for the man to see.

"I am looking for this man." Thank goodness her voice didn't fail her.

The longer she held the picture out, the smaller she felt as the man continued to stare into her eyes. Finally, he released her from his immobilising stare to study the picture, before smirking and looking back up.

"Get lost kid." He snorted before strutting around her and away. Isabella swallowed nervously. Well that was uncomfortable, she thought. She hesitantly peeked over her shoulder to see the man mount one of the horses that had been hitched to the post and ride off without sparing her another herself together, Isabella marched into 'The American Spirit' saloon with her head held high ready to try again.

Isabella had never been inside a saloon in her lifetime, back home they had dive bars, but she had only ever heard of the scandals that took place inside of those. Mrs Jenny would have had a heart attack if Isabella had tried to enter one. Here, no one seemed bothered by her presence. There were a few tables dotted around the floor and a long bar stretched the length of the back wall. In the far-right corner was a staircase heading up to the second floor and on the left wall was a large fire place that was lit, a cauldron of food was suspended above it bubbling away. The aroma was rather pleasant and Isabella's stomach grumbled at the thought of the delicious food.

Despite it being only just after noon, the saloon was full of patrons, all of which paid her no attention as she shuffled over to the bar. A man with a broom-handle moustache was situated behind the bar polishing glasses as he followed an on-going game of poker on the table closest to him. When Isabella reached the bar the man still had not looked in her direction so she gently cleared her throat to capture his attention.

"I see you there Miss, what can I get ya?" He threw the rag over his shoulder, carefully placed the glass down and leaned against the bar giving her his full attention. Unlike the man outside the saloon Isabella felt like she could instantly trust this man. His warm eyes and slight smile helped to put the girl at ease as she slid the photograph across the bar.

"I'm looking for this man." She watched as he picked the picture off of the bar and studied her brother's features. "He is older now, the picture is old, he was seventeen there, he would be twenty-four now." Isabella was quick to explain. The man gave her a brief look over the picture before flicking his eyes back to the picture. He then held it out to her.

"Sorry little Miss, I can't help you there." He removed the rag from his shoulder and resumed polishing the glasses in front of him. Isabella felt her body deflate a little, before looking at the picture in her hand. "Who is he?" Isabella jumped slightly having lost herself in thought for a moment, she had not expected the man to carry on a conversation with her.

"He's-"

"Here now, another round for me and my friends Charles. We are thirsty!" Isabella flinched as another man joined them at the bar. The man was visibly drunk as he used the bar to support himself. Charles, the barman, stared at Isabella for a moment longer before turning to his customer and fulfilling the order.

Isabella used that moment to slip away and head over to a table that was occupied by a few ladies, all dressed rather provocatively. But Isabella thought they appeared harmless enough, especially when compared to the saloon's other patrons. Hopefully someone would recognise her brother before she reached the table of unruly men who were currently arguing about their card game.

A redhead lady was the first to notice Isabella as she approached and poked her friend and pointed in Isabella's direction. The fell silent as Isabella stopped just short of the table.

"Excuse me, I was wondering if any of you recognised this man." Once again, she held the photograph out.

"Oh my, well ain't he handsome?" The blonde raised her eyebrows as she leered at the photo.

"Oh, jeeze Abigail, it's a boy, I swear you'll mount anything." The red head looked disgusted with her friend as Isabella cringed. "I'm sorry deary, I ain't seen no boy like that around here." Isabella nodded her head in thanks before turning away from the table, she didn't feel the need to explain to Abigail that her brother was actually closer to her age than the picture suggested.

After two more tables of rejections Isabella felt more than a little defeated. The only table she had yet to ask was the table that the rowdy men were seated around. They seemed to have settled their poker game and had moved onto singing at the top of their voices, rather appallingly too.

"Pull yourself together Bella," she muttered under her breathe. She shook her shoulders to try and dislodge the tension she felt there. The man closest to her noticed her appearance before the rest and abruptly stopped singing, the smirk that materialised on his face was not reassuring though.

"I-" Her voice would not carry over their voices, so she raised it slightly. "I'm looking for this man-" Suddenly the singing ceased as the tables occupants finally acknowledged her existence. "Do any of you recognise him?" She finished off pathetically. As she watched their facial expressions transform into a mix of humour and disinterest, she wished she hadn't bothered with this table after all. Turning on her heel she tried to retreat as quickly and painlessly as possible but as she took her first step the photograph disappeared from between her fingers. She spun back expecting to see it fluttering to the floor, but her heart froze as she realised one of the men had it carelessly clutched in his grimy hands.

"Looks like a pretty boy to me," he snorted.

"He wouldn't last a minute out here." Another chimed in.

"Can I have my photograph back please." Even Isabella cringed at how weak her voice had sounded. The men crowed to each other as the picture exchanged hands and was taken even further from where Isabella stood. "Give me my photograph." She tried again.

"Why? How much is it worth?" The man who held it now demanded. His eyes were narrowed, the wrinkles around his eyes crinkling as he cackled again with his rowdy friends. His dirty hands were crushing her precious picture, Isabella felt her breath hitch as she hurried forward.

"Give the girl her picture Watson. Now." The deep voice of the barman shouted. "I told you; no more trouble or you'd be banned." Charles was stood directly behind Isabella now, his stance intimidating, his meaty arms were crossed, his hands curled into fists and his lip turned up in a snarl. The young girl was thankful that this fearless man was on her side.

"Sure Charles. Here girl, here's your picture." Watson extended his arm out to the side, his fingers wiggling the picture temptingly as his eyes remained glued to Charles. Isabella rushed around the table to retrieve the picture only for Watson to toss it into the flames of the fireplace behind him. "I don't like this bar anyway; the whores are pigs."

Isabella was faintly aware of the group of men laughing loudly as they departed, and the girls on the other side of the bar screeching after them as they attempted to defend their honours. But Isabella couldn't react as she stood in front of the burning fire watching as her photograph curled at the edges before turning to black ash before her eyes.

"I'm sorry about your picture Miss." Isabella started at the voice that sounded so close to her. "Do you have another?" Charles asked gently.

"I- no. That was all I had." Isabella whispered brokenly. "I'll never find him now."

"Never say never kid."