Page 2 of Shoshone Sun (Native Sun #3)
- Somerset near Bath, 1866 -
The morning light broke over the horizon, casting a gentle glow through the small cottage window. Susan stirred in her bed, the weight of the previous day’s decisions pressing heavily upon her. She laid still for a moment, absorbing the soft sounds of her husband, Peter, in the next room, tending to their little son. The world outside was hushed, but it felt charged with the electricity of change.
The thought of leaving England, the land she had always known, sent a shiver down her spine. She recalled the laughter shared in their garden, the soft whispers of the wind through the forsythia. And yet, the weight of James Rowland’s dictatorship loomed over them like a storm cloud. With a deep breath, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, bracing herself for the day ahead.
As she dressed, her mind drifted to Jane. Her sister had been unusually quiet since the news of their departure had settled in. While Susan had quickly embraced the prospect of a new life, and Jane had also agreed that it was their best option, Jane carried the additional burden of the dreams shattered by her fiancé, Fred Rowland. His callous betrayal and his broken promises of a husband and family life she’d imagined but would never know had hit her hard. Susan knew how much Jane had loved the man and the depth of the pain that must be burning in her sister’s heart and soul. However difficult things became for Jane emotionally, Susan resolved to support her sister through the turmoil that lay ahead.
When she stepped into the kitchen, it felt warm and inviting, the fireplace still smoldering from the night before. Peter turned to her, holding Petey in his arms, a tender smile lighting his rugged features. The sight filled Susan’s heart with warmth; this was her family, and they were worth every sacrifice. She walked toward him.
“Morning, love,” Peter said when she reached him, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. “He slept well and is now quite cheery. I think he knows something’s going on.”
“I hope so,” she replied, releasing a slight chuckle. “He seems alert and happy. Maybe he senses our excitement?”
“I think he does,” Peter agreed and stood up, laying the infant in his wooden cradle and covering his small body with a powder-blue cotton blanket.
Susan smiled and began preparations for the morning’s breakfast. Peter went to fetch the eggs he had brought in earlier from the barn. Susan fried them in bacon grease, and then cut thick slices of the bread she’d baked yesterday, amply buttering each piece. After placing the eggs, bread, and a large pot of oatmeal on the table, Susan fetched a pot of hot tea sweetened with a bit of honey and cream and set it directly in the center of everything.
As soon as she’d done this, Jane entered the kitchen from her bedroom, her expression a mixture of resolve and uncertainty. Though her eyes were shadowed with worry, there was a new, yet tiny, spark of life within them.
“Good morning,” Jane said, her voice steady despite the tremor beneath. “What’s on the agenda for today?”
Peter fetched Petey, setting him in his high chair and securing him in place before answering. “We’ll finalize our plans for departure. I’m making arrangements with a shipping company; they’ll take us from Liverpool to New York. It’s a long journey, but we’ll be together.”
“I’ll pack our things,” Jane offered, her tone decisive. “We should make sure we have everything we need for the journey.”
“Thank you, Jane,” Susan said, feeling a swell of gratitude for her sister’s resilience. “We can work together to make sure we don’t leave anything important behind.”
After breakfast was cleared, the three adults gathered again at the table, where a few precious belongings were now scattered—photographs, a well-worn Bible, and the cherished quilt that Susan’s mother had made them as a wedding gift. Each item held a memory, a piece of their past that was difficult to surrender.
“Do you think we should take the quilt?” Susan asked, fingers trembling over the fabric. “It’s quite heavy.” It represented warmth, family, and love—a connection to home.
Peter nodded thoughtfully. “We’ll need it on the ship. The ocean can be cold and unforgiving.”
Jane looked at the quilt, her eyes glistening. “It’s beautiful. We must take it. It will comfort us during the long nights at sea.”
Three days later, all of the arrangements were in place.
Everyone’s hatred of James faded slightly when he gave them a parting sum of money to repay them for their labors of the last five years. Enough to pay for their voyage across the ocean, their travel by train and wagon train to their destination, with enough left over to start building their new life in America. They felt no love for him surely, but their fury was now reduced to simple bitterness.
As they completed their final packing, a sense of friendship blossomed among them, easing the weight of their departure. They shared stories and laughter, recalling the good times spent in their garden, the joyful work of birthing lambs in the spring, the satisfaction of the farm and its livestock and crops prospering more and more every year, the soft summer evenings sipping home-made blackberry juice, and the dreams they had had for their lives. The act of packing became a celebration of their shared memories, a tribute to the life the three of them had built together.
The sun reached its peak by midday, and the air was filled with the scents of freshly baked bread and blooming flowers. Peter took a moment to step outside, the call of the day drawing him into the sunlight. He stood on the porch, eyes surveying the land he had toiled to cultivate, the fields stretching endlessly before him.
“Peter?” Susan’s voice called softly from behind him, breaking his daydream.
He turned to see her standing there, a light breeze tugging at the loose strands of her hair. “What is it, love?”
“I wanted to check on you,” she said, stepping closer. “I know this is hard for you.”
Peter sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I never thought we would have to leave. This farm was supposed to be our forever home. But … we have each other. That’s what matters, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she agreed, her heart swelling with affection. “And we will build a new home together, wherever that may be. Just think of the opportunities waiting for us in America!”
He nodded, trying to envision the life that awaited them across the ocean. “I just want to provide for you and Petey. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
Susan reached out, taking his hand in hers. “You will, I believe in you. You’re strong and resourceful. We’ll adapt, we always do.”
As they turned back toward the house, Jane joined them on the porch. “I’m almost finished the final packing,” she said, her voice tinged with newfound determination. “I’ve packed plenty of water, cheese, smoked meat, bread, and fruit for the journey to Liverpool.”
Peter smiled, grateful for his sister-in-law’s resilience. “That sounds wonderful.”
The family gathered together one last time in the kitchen.
“Shall we take a moment?” Susan suggested, her voice soft and reflective. “To say goodbye to this place that has held our dreams?”
They formed a circle, holding hands as they closed their eyes. Susan offered a quiet prayer, invoking strength for the journey ahead and gratitude for the memories they shared. The air around them felt thick with emotion, the weight of their goodbyes hanging heavily.
When they opened their eyes, Peter took a deep breath, his gaze firm. “Let’s do this together, for our family, for Petey’s future!”
With a shared determination, they stepped outside, leaving the warmth of the farmhouse cottage behind. The garden was alive with color, the leaves of the trees swaying gently in the breeze, and the sky painted in hues of orange and pink. It was a breathtaking farewell, a moment suspended in time.
Peter had spoken to James who had been kind enough to allow them the use of his two horses and wagon to pull their belongings to Liverpool. He knew there were plenty of lads there who would fight for the chance to drive the team back to the farm and hire on as farmhand for a few shillings a week and a bed in the barn. Peter had instructions to pick the most trustworthy.
As Susan climbed into the wagon, loaded with their belongings, a sense of hope began to blossom within her. The road ahead was uncertain, fraught with challenges they could not yet fathom, but it also shimmered with the promise of new beginnings. The journey across the ocean would test them, but together they would forge ahead into the unknown.
The sound of the wagon wheels creaked against the dirt path as Peter urged the horses forward. With one last glance at their farmhouse, Susan felt a pang of loss—but it was accompanied by the flutter of anticipation. They were embarking on an adventure, a leap of faith that could transport them to a brighter future.
As they made their way toward Liverpool, a sense of purpose filled the air, and Susan clung to the belief that, despite the challenges ahead, they would find their place in the world together. With Petey cooing happily in Jane’s arms, they drove toward the horizon, ready to embrace whatever awaited them on the other side of the ocean.