This five-star rated book is on Amazon with different titles for test marketing purposes. This is the latest version with a brief and fascinating history of the Oregon Trail prologue/introduction. Here are a few paragraphs and sentences from the book to entice you into reading this inspiring story of courage and love that takes place on the Oregon Trail at the beginning of the civil war.The air was hot and heavy, and the sweet aroma of frying ham mingled with the fragrance of the nearby azaleas. The morning was alive with the familiar sounds of chickens and horses. Pa and me had been up since midnight helping a mare who was having trouble birthing her foal. Now we admired her new gray foal, and was thrilled-it was a stallion. -*****We were just finishing breakfast when the thunder of hooves announced the arrival of many horses. We got up from the table as one. Pa rushed across the parlor and stepped outside, but he motioned Ma and me to stay back. From the racket, I figured there was a goodly number of soldiers. Sh A man dressed in a gray shirt with stripes on his sleeve rode up near the porch. "I'm Major Becker. We're here to claim your horses in the name of the Confederacy," he announced. "I don't have any stock for sale. I don't have any riding horses. What would you want with a bunch of mares that just gave birth? They're not fit to ride.""I didn't ask if you wanted to sell," the major said, thrusting a paper at him. "This gives me the right to confiscate your stock. You can collect your money in Richmond. In case you haven't noticed, Mr. Patterson, there's a war. Different rules apply. We'll be taking the horses." Shivers ran down my back, and a feeling of dread came over me.****He looked down at Pa straight in the eye. "Take your family and leave here, Patterson. This place will be a battleground by high noon."****At the sound of gunfire, we both looked off across the pasture toward the creek in the distance, the sound making the major's warning a reality.****War makes men do horrible things they wouldn't do otherwise." He paused and reached into the cupboard. "While I'm thinkin' on it, you best keep this with you." He handed me a small pistol. "A young woman needs protection***Ma ran into the kitchen screaming. She grabbed me and held tightly as cannon fire shook the house. Pa ran in, shouting, "Get to the cellar, Martha! Get to the storm cellar. Go! Go! Hurry!" He grabbed Ma's arm and began pulling her along. "Holy Mother of Jesus," he muttered. I followed with the basket. Inside the cellar Ma pleaded with Pa to stay with us.****Don't be tellin' me what to do, bitch. Your pa's dead, and you have to marry me. I'm gonna make sure of it right now." He laughed and grabbed my arm, dragging me toward him and ripping my sleeve. "No man will want you. You won't be so high and mighty when I'm through ridin' you."I pulled to free myself, and he slapped my face hard. "Damn you!" I yelled, and punched him with a hard right in the nose."Bitch!" he screamed and grabbed his face as blood streamed between his fingers. He staggered and then came at me. His fist glanced off my head. I brought my knee up and hit him in the groin. He moaned and doubled over. I pushed him to the ground, somehow grabbing a pitchfork. I shoved it hard against his chest, holding his eyes with a determined stare. "I told you to stay away from me."***My hands tightened on the pitchfork. "You bastard! You don't touch me!" Overcome with rage, resentment, hurt, despair, and hate, I plunged the pitchfork at him again, going deep in his chest. His eyes widened in surprise, and his mouth dropped open. His body twitched, and the front of his shirt turned red. Then he was still. Blood trickled out the corner of his mouth."Oh, my God, what have I done?" The protagonist fears being blamed for murder and outfits a wagon and joins a wagon train bound for Oregon. She is joined during the journey by 5 other women running away from dangerous situation