Amy was the oldest surviving daughter of the Morrin family. Since they had fled Ireland in search of a better life she had always know they were only a few steps ahead of destitution. The Oregon Trail spelt more freedom than Amy had ever known, but arrival in Fort Laramie brought heartache. Faced with abandoning his dream, Mr. Morrin accepted the offer of restocking the wagon in return for Amy’s hand in marriage to a man of his own age.
Saddle-maker Callum Voisin had other ideas. During these first weeks on the trail, he had got to know, and appreciate, Amy. He would not allow this to happen. So, he made his move!
Saddle-maker Callum Voisin had other ideas. During these first weeks on the trail, he had got to know, and appreciate, Amy. He would not allow this to happen. So, he made his move!
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Spring 1848 St. Joseph, Missouri
Amy Morrin always tried her very best to follow the words of the good book and to love, honor and obey her parents. There was no denying that she loved them, but she didn’t always understand her Da. He was a notional man, much inclined to follow sudden impulses; for the last few years Amy had started to believe that he didn’t consider the consequences of his actions. Da believed he was right, always, and the family had to follow him in everything.
At her now advanced age of eighteen, Amy had to admit that this last move had been correct, leaving Indiana had been necessary. Da had said that place was cursed, Amy would not argue with that idea.
When they first left Ireland back in 1844, she had wondered if her Da believed in the Piskies and the Little People. He had uprooted the family and traveled to America, they had been here almost a year when the Big Hunger struck Ireland. She had wondered then if he had known it was coming, certainly his notions had saved the family from starvation. After several months of moving, sleeping in hovels and working for food, they had settled on an abandoned farmstead in Virginia. This had seemed heaven on earth to Amy, after the deprivations of the last few months and the horrors of steerage class on the migrant ship, things had seemed wonderful. But the happiness lasted less than two years; Da didn’t get along with the neighbors in Virginia, so when he heard of the land available in Indiana it seemed another good notion.
It soon became apparent to her father why the good looking piece of level Indiana land he had settled upon had been vacant. It was marshy, and the mosquitoes were rife, they heard of neighbors getting malaria. Then the cow sickened and her milk made the children ill, poor little Niamah, the baby of the family, died. Her father was warned the sickness would not go away, but would kill them all, if the malaria did not get them instead.
Da didn’t hesitate. Less than a year since they had arrived in Indiana, they were on the move again. Since they had moved on both he and her mother, and sometimes her and the boys too, had worked at every opportunity to get some money together for this new venture. They had been living in the wagon for months, joining a wagon train would be no hardship. Already they lived on sourdough bread, with the starter constantly kept going, they churned small quantities of butter, and it churned itself when hung in the moving wagon. They lived off the land they passed through, and sometimes they were hungry. As far as Amy could see, this would be a continuation of that lifestyle.
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Thank you for joining us to celebrate Angela's lovely Prairie Roses story. Please come back again tomorrow when we'll feature the final book in this year's collection of new stories.
Blessings,
Nancy
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