"When the wind blows, the sapling bends, the flowers lie low against the earth, the grass is flattened." He thumped his chest with his fist. "I am your wind, Blue Eyes. Bend or break." In all her life, she had never felt quite so helpless. Her attention moved to the knife on his hip. If only he would drop his guard--just for a moment. As if he sensed what she was thinking, he smiled another humorless smile and lowered his gaze to her chest where the water lapped just above her splayed fingertips. She tightened her arms around herself. He said nothing more, but words weren't necessary. She couldn't stay in the river forever, and when she emerged, he would be waiting. She was trapped. Always, forever, with no horizon. The seconds stretched into minutes. Loretta grew numb with cold. The Comanche grew tired of crouching and stretched out on the sandy bank, one knee bent, his upper body propped on one elbow so he could watch her. Loretta felt certain her blood had turned to ice. Shivers set in. Her teeth began to clack. And still he watched her, his mouth twisted into that mocking sneer she was coming to know so well. When at last he sprang to his feet, she retreated a step, lifting her chin so the lapping water couldn't reach her mouth. He bent to retrieve the buffalo robe and beckoned for her. " " She knew by now that the word meant "come." She shuddered and looked longingly at the fur he held. " ," he repeated. When she made no move to obey, he sighed. Sinking lower into the water, Loretta accidentally took a mouthful and choked. He glanced skyward, clearly exasperated. "This Comanche is not stupid. You would run like the wind if I took my eyes from you."