Free Bound by Blood and Brimstone by D. L. Dunaway

superstitious stuff.”
    She sighed and reached to stroke Wovoka’s head, averting her eyes for a moment before
    responding. She seemed to be framing her next words with care. When she faced me again, her
    eyes had lost their intensity and she spoke gently.
    “I, too, do not hold to magic and superstition, only good medicine put here by the Great
    Spirit, our Father, and nurtured by the earth. The earth was a mother to my people. I called for
    you today because you will learn of these medicines.”
    Fascinated in spite of myself, I was helpless to prevent a gasp of surprise, followed by a
    nervous giggle. “Me? Why should I learn about these medicines?”
    “She gave Wovoka a final pat and shot me a wicked grin. “You will take my place as a
    healer and midwife and bring new life into the world. I will teach you all you need to know. We
    start today and will work every week until you are ready.”
    I watched as she stood and gathered our things, her nimble fingers retying the pouch
    around her waist. I’d been rendered temporarily speechless by her words, but my thoughts were a
    whirlwind. She’s going to teach me to be a midwife and a healer? I’m a ten-year-old kid! How
    can she possibly think I could deliver a baby, and even if I could, who, with a sane mind, would
    let me?
    Giving her hands one last wash in the creek, she glanced at me over her shoulder and said
    casually, “There will come a time soon when your skills will be needed and asked for.”
    On the way to our first lesson, Wonnie kept up a steady stream of chatter, her sharp eyes
    scanning the trees on either side of us, her expression wary. I knew we were being watched. I felt
    it on the back of my neck, like the brush of fingertips against my nape. An involuntary shiver
    gripped me for a moment, but I kept pace with Wonnie and attempted to focus on her words.
    She told me about her mother, the young girl who’d barely escaped with her life on the
    Trail of Tears, forced to live as a fugitive in the wilds of North Carolina with her father.
    She told me of the rebirth of her Wolf Clan, begun by a handful of stragglers who banded
    together and fought for their right to remain part of a sovereign nation. Her mother had grown
    into a leader among her people, a fierce warrior in many battles against encroaching whites.
    She’d earned her Cherokee name of “Bleeding Fist” over the spilled blood of white soldiers and
    died a warrior’s death, honored among the people.
    Wonnie had been a twin, but only she’d survived to be celebrated as a “gifted one.” Her
    skills as a medicine woman and seer had earned her the pinnacle of power among the Cherokee,
    but she’d given it all up for the love of a stranger who’d wandered into the village when she was
    “past the age of forty winters.”
    Samuel Dean had been raised by white missionaries and knew nothing of the ways of the
    people. Wonnie had hated him at first sight. She’d thought of him as weak and a traitor to his
    people, taking the white man’s God and his ways. Samuel had been twenty when he first came to
    Wonnie’s tiny village and had fought hard to win over the striking medicine woman.
    I could only imagine how people in Silver Rock Creek would wag their tongues if they
    knew of any woman marrying a man half her age. It gave me a quick thrill to know my Wonnie
    would’ve scoffed at their gossip.
    Wonnie had insisted on a traditional Cherokee ceremony, wearing the same dress she’d
    given me. She told me her union with Samuel Dean had been one of “heart, spirit, and body.”
    Two cultures were mingled with their marriage as Wonnie accepted Samuel’s Christian savior,
    and he in turn, learned the old ways from her.
    When their daughter was only ten, Samuel had died of small pox. A broken-hearted
    Wonnie had taken her little girl and left her people for the hills of West Virginia. It stunned me,
    imagining her and a child, alone in a strange place.
    “How could you leave everybody