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

like that, Grandma? Weren’t you lonely?” She
    hesitated in her tracks and turned to look at me, breathing hard from the brisk pace she kept.
    “Yes,” she said, “but not alone. I had my Jesus and my Samuel’s spirit.” That was an
    unsettling notion, to say the least, but I didn’t ask her to elaborate, nor did I ask about her
    daughter and grandson, who would become my Daddy.
    I’d figured Wonnie’s chatter was more camouflage than reality. She was simply offering
    me a distraction to keep me from thinking about the fact that we were being followed into the
    depth of the woods.
    Noting a slight change in her demeanor during our walk, I realized she had her eyes and
    ears trained on every nuance of the forest. Her features and carriage betrayed a wariness she was
    trying to conceal. Suddenly, she halted our progress with a raised finger and stood statue-still,
    listening.
    The forest seemed to hold its breath and the flutter of wild creatures ceased. All was utter
    silence as we strained our ears toward the trees. A guttural rumbling vibrated low in Wovoka’s
    chest, his hackles ruffling. Wonnie held the rifle at the ready, her body, taut. Then we heard it,
    the solid snap of dry twigs, as dry twigs sound when tromped on by shoes.
    My muscles quivered with the strain of remaining motionless, my lungs burning for new
    air. My thoughts were a tumble of loose threads. Someone’s been out there behind us the whole
    time, making every step we take, but who? Why?
    Out of the blue, the sullen face of Caleb Jacobs rose in my mind’s eye. I’d recently
    learned he was much older than I’d thought. Miss Hacker had promoted him to fifth grade
    because he couldn’t be held back anymore, and at fifteen, he had to move on. Fifteen was fully
    grown and plenty strong enough to do serious damage to an old woman and a young girl. God
    knew he was mean enough.
    An icy chill rattled me where I stood, and I tensed, preparing to run. But Wonnie
    shouldered her rifle, shook her head, and motioned for me to fall in step behind her.
    Before long, we were standing near a strand of spruce trees at the edge of the clearing
    where Wonnie had her “secret place.” Here, the afternoon sun had room to reach its warm
    fingers to our faces and nurture the profusion of herbs and roots around us.
    I tried hard to shake off the image of Caleb Jacob’s big head and concentrate on what
    Wonnie was saying about willow bark being better than white man’s aspirin.
    “You strip the bark and dry it to make tea. It will ease aches and pains of the head and
    body.” She used her knife to carve out several slivers of bark from the tree we stood under. The
    wind picked up tendrils of her hair damp with sweat and stirred the long, feathery leaves that
    fluttered over us like an umbrella.
    I took a deep breath of mint and pine and tried to calm myself, clearing my mind to make
    room for Wonnie’s wealth of knowledge. If I was going to be a healer, I’d have to take better
    control of my fears. I threw myself into Wonnie’s instructions for the next couple of hours as our
    lesson progressed.
    She showed me where to find yarrow and explained how its cut leaves could be used on
    wounds to clot blood. Its fresh juice could even be diluted with spring water and sipped to help
    internal bleeding.
    I learned how the fruit of the wild rose could keep away colds, and a tea made from
    ginseng root would ease colic. One of Wonnie’s favorites was the blackberry plant because of its
    multitude of uses. One of the best over all stomach ailments ever, its leaves, if chewed, could
    soothe bleeding gums, and a strong tea from its roots could soften the pain of swollen joints.
    “You will use this many times to help your sister,” she said as she gathered several of the
    sturdy plants to add to her pouch.
    I tired long before Wonnie. It was getting close to suppertime, and I knew fried chicken
    and fresh peas awaited me. At the precise moment my delicious