Candace McCarthy by Sweet Possession Page A

at each outer corner. Her blood warmed. He really was an extremely attractive man.
    “Have you settled in at the mission?” Daniel asked.
    “Yes, we have, thank you. The people there seem friendly enough.”
    Noting something odd in her tone, Daniel looked at her. “You’re surprised that they’re friendly.”
    Amelia blushed. “I guess it’s because of something Jack told me when we first came.”
    Jack? Daniel frowned. Not Mr. Keller but Jack. He felt a niggling of anger. “What was that?”
    “He said that you disliked the missionaries, that you didn’t agree with their efforts to improve the Indians’ way of life. I met an Indian this morning, and I would think the missionaries could help them.”
    A muscle ticked along Daniel’s jaw. “You think that, do you?”
    She nodded. “Why they barely wore a stitch of clothing!”
    “So the white lady was offended,” he said mockingly.
    “No, not offended exactly.”
    “Miss Dempsey, you know nothing about the Ojibwa people, least of all what’s best for them.” His voice was hard, angry.
    She appeared flustered. “I’m sorry. I guess I shouldn’t have spoken up. I was just making an observation. Youare right; I don’t know the Indians, so how can I judge what’s best for them?”
    She had surprised him once again with her answer. “Since you are here,” he said, thinking it best to change the subject, “I assume someone accompanied you.”
    She nodded. “Cameron Walters, a soldier in the US Army. He sought medical help for an injured arm and was gracious enough to offer himself as escort.”
    He felt a flicker of some strange emotion. “I would think you would have preferred to come with your father,” he commented.
    She shrugged, bringing his attention to the curve of her neck. “Father was too busy to come.”
    “And so this soldier volunteered to escort you,” he said, perhaps a little too sharply. He didn’t want to put a name to whatever it was he was feeling.
    She nodded, but looked confused by his tone.
    He forced a smile. “Is there anything else your father needed?” He moved to a worktable and picked up the forceps he’d made for John Dempsey.
    “Not that I’m aware of.” She didn’t move, but waited for him to return.
    He went to her and gave her the medical instrument. As he handed it to her, his gaze fell on the beaded pouch. “Where did you get your bag?” he asked, intrigued.
    “The Ojibwa brave gave it to my father as payment for tending his injured hand.”
    Daniel raised an eyebrow. “An Ojibwa went to your father as a patient?”
    “Yes, why do you sound surprised?” Amelia frowned. “Tell me—are the Ojibwa and the Chippewa one and the same people?”
    “They are actually. Many people around here prefer Chippewa over Ojibwa.” He rubbed his right wrist withhis other hand, as if the wrist pained him. “Have you noticed how much alike the two words sound? Ah-jib-ah-wa. Chip-ah-wa.” He reached out to touch the strung beads. “As for your first question, I’m surprised because the Ojibwa people are skilled in the medicinal arts. I’d trust my life to an Ojibwa shaman before I’d go to an American doctor. I’ve seen them heal patients. Their skills are amazing. They know more about healing with plants and herbs than any white man I’ve known.”
    Amelia raised her chin. “My father is not just any white man,” she said, sounding put out.
    Daniel was amused. “No offense to your father. I’m just telling you how it usually is.”
    She relaxed and gave him a slight smile. To his satisfaction, she seemed in no hurry to leave. “What are you working on?” she asked, glancing toward the fire.
    She’d amazed him once again. “You really want to know?” he asked. She nodded. “Come closer to the forge area, and I’ll show you.”
    She started to approach when she heard a wild shriek from outside. “What is that?” Before Daniel could answer, she was out the side door, peering out into the yard