Candace McCarthy by Fireheart

toward Bear Paw’s village. Rising Bird held up a hand, and everyone stopped to listen to the forest sounds.
    The sun was bright, and the smell of smoke was in the air. The Lenape braves kept low as they began to inch closer and closer with Rising Bird in the lead, and Fireheart behind him. Rising Bird was an experienced war chief; Fireheart trusted him, and wouldn’t think of using his authority to take his position.
    Rising Bird signaled to one of the braves, Turtle That Hops, and the warrior slipped past the others into the village.
    Suddenly, there was a wild cry like an owl. It was Turtle That Hops calling to his friends.
    Rising Bird glanced at Fireheart who nodded and waited for the man’s lead.
    The warrior signaled back with a birdcall, then the Lenape war party entered the village.
     
     
    Four days later, they returned to Little River during the night with Red Dress and several women and children from Bear Paw’s tribe. Hearing their call, the villagers came out of their wigwams to greet them.
    Joanna emerged to see Mary run to embrace her husband. Heart thumping hard, she searched for Fireheart and couldn’t find him. She saw Turtle That Hops being hugged by his wife. Then she realized that there were women and children in the village whom she’d never seen before.
    People from Bear Paw’s village? she wondered. Since the Iroquois seldom left survivors to tell about their raids, surely this was a good sign.
    Although it was still dark, someone had stoked up the community cook-fire. Dogs barked and ran about the children. The kettle above the fire already emitted the scent of simmering meat.
    After ensuring that their loved ones were safe, the women gathered with the visitors, chatting and talking in earnest. Joanna heard a burst of laughter from a group she could not see behind the women, and the merriment made her smile as she searched again for Fireheart.
    Where is he? The smile fell from her lips when she didn’t see him.
    Her stomach contracted. Was he safe? The people wouldn’t be in a celebratory mood if their chief had been killed or injured—even an acting chief. Some of the tension eased out of her at the thought.
    Mary saw her and approached.
    Joanna smiled a greeting. “I saw Rising Bird.”
    Her cousin grinned. “He is well. So are the others. The Iroquois raided the village, but Bear Paw’s men were able to chase them away.” Her expression became solemn. “Two warriors died. Bear Paw asked that the women and children of his village come to Little River for a time until the threat of the enemy is gone. He believes the Cayuga war chief will return soon with more men.”
    Fear had gripped Joanna when she heard about the two warriors’ deaths. “The braves who died—”
    Mary studied her with a knowing look. “They were not from our village, but Bear Paw’s.” Her gaze fastened on something behind Joanna. “If you are looking for Fireheart, look no farther, for he is behind you, speaking with Wild Squirrel.”
    “Wild Squirrel!” Joanna exclaimed. She spun, and set eyes on an incredible scene. The ailing chief had come out of his wigwam to greet his nephew. Happiness filtered through her at the sight of the chief, looking so well, and her beloved Fireheart who had returned to her safely as promised.
    Fireheart glanced over to find Joanna studying him. She didn’t move, didn’t smile. The brief look he gave her was all she needed to wait patiently for him to come to her later.
    She was in the forest picking berries when he finally sought her out.
    “Autumn Wind.”
    She spun, gasping. “Fireheart, I didn’t see you!”
    He came to her, took her basket. He popped a plump blackberry into his mouth and chewed slowly. “Good.” He smiled, reached for another berry, and held it to her lips.
    Joanna grinned, then opened for his offering. The amusement left her face when she caught him staring at her mouth as she ate the berry. The fruit had never tasted so sweet. Warmth pooled in