With a start, she noticed the warrior had stretched out a hand to her. A wide...

With a start, she noticed the warrior had stretched out a hand to her. A wide leather band encircled his wrist to protect him from his bowstring. Staring at his dark palm and strong fingers, she shook her head in denial.
"
," he said in a low voice. Guiding his stallion closer, he bent to touch her chin. Her eyelid quivered when he brushed at a tear on her cheek. "
," he whispered.
The words made no sense. Puzzled, she met his gaze.
"
" Raising his hand, he showed her the glistening wetness on his fingertips. "Silver rain, "
He compared her tears to silver rain? She searched his eyes for some trace of humanity and found none. After a moment he straightened, raising his lance in what looked like a salute.
"
" he yelled, his glittering eyes sweeping the line of encircling riders.
A low rumble of answering voices replied, "
"
He seemed satisfied with the response and, with a mighty thrust, drove the lance into the earth. Again, he thrust out his hand. "Take it, Yellow Hair, in friendship."
She was afraid he might drag her onto his mount if she touched him, but his eyes compelled her. Besides, if he was set on it, he'd have his way, with or without her cooperation. She lifted a quivering arm, expecting the worst, and placed her fingers across his palm. His callused hand tightened on hers, the warmth of his grip shooting to her shoulder.
"We will meet again. I will come to you like the wind, from nowhere. Remember the face of this Comanche. I am your destiny."
With that, he released her and rode his horse in a circle about the yard, one arm raised high, his head thrown back to emit a shrill cry that sent shivers up her spine. Moments later a cloud of dust rose in the yard, and four hundred hooves beat a deafening staccato of retreat.