He had once told Loretta that he would be as nothing without his people, and that was true. He would be giving up all that he was to be with her. Yet how could he live without her? The prophecy had come to pass. Without her, he had no tomorrows. How could a man live without them? He sighed and closed his eyes. From the moment she had stepped out from her wooden walls, the path ahead of him had been clearly marked, but he had been too blind to see it. A woman and a Comanche, their pasts stained with tears and bloodshed, had little hope of coexisting happily with either race. To be as one, they had to walk alone, away from both their people. Where, that was the question. And Hunter had no answers. West, as the prophecy foretold? Into the great mountain ranges? The thought frightened him. He had been raised in open spaces, able to see into tomorrow, with the north wind whispering, the grass waving, the buffalo plentiful. What would he hunt? And how? He wouldn't know what roots and nuts to gather. He wouldn't know which plants made good medicine, which bad. Did he dare take a woman into an unknown land, uncertain if he could feed her, care for her, or protect her? What if she came with child? How would he stand tall like a man if his family starved?