Can she entrust her future to him, or will fear keep her locked in the past?
 

1765—Full-blown spring has finally come to the hazy ridges of the Allegheny Mountains and the clannish Scots-Irish settled here can breathe a sigh of relief. The recent Indian wars are over and an uneasy truce in place. Free-spirited Kira is at odds with the superstitious community and rumor is spreading that she may be a witch.

Her imagination runs to fairy rings, the 'little people,'and 'haints.' She's happiest out among the trees where she can hide from her painful past and any warriors who might again appear. A gifted healer with a menagerie of wild creatures, she's in the woods releasing a tame crow when her little beagle sounds the alarm. She peers warily from the leaves at the handsome young stranger. His buckskin breechclout and moccasins are more in keeping with a warrior's than any frontiersmen she knows and there's a stealth in his manner that reminds her of the way Indians pass through the trees. Yet he's not a warrior. Shafts of sunlight play over the reddish-brown hair falling to his well-muscled shoulders. Chills prickle down her spine. Is he some sort of renegade come to spy out their settlement? 

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The spring of 1765 comes hard on the heels of the French and Indian War and Pontiac's War. Settlements all along the colonial frontier have felt the wrath of tribes allied under Chief Pontiac. Many settlers have fled the mountains. The hardy Scots in Kira's clan are holding on, but she's badly shaken by the turbulent times—more so than most and with good reason.