Christina didn’t dare remove her gaze from the Indian. He inched toward her. The few English words he apparently knew were interspersed amongst those of his own language. Although it appeared as though he wanted to help her—as far as she could understand him—perhaps he only wanted to take her captive without a struggle. A trap.
    His mouth twitched, and he mumbled something that sounded like, “I show you.” Without any further warning, he lunged forward and grabbed her arm.
    Christina tried to jerk away, swinging her free fist into his solid shoulder. Pain spiked down her wrist, yet his vise-like grip kept her locked in place. A shallow crease formed between his eyebrows. Frustration? She slapped her palm across his face, but he didn’t so much as flinch. Instead he turned and dragged her in the direction of the forest.
     She struggled against his unrelenting hold. “Let me go!” Christina slammed her hand against his back, but still no reaction. He no longer wore his bow, only the buckskin quiver angled over his spine with a dozen or so straight shafts dressed with feathers.
    What if this was the Indian who had murdered Anthony and Cal? If so, what would keep her from the same fate, or worse?
    Christina sprang at the arrows and yanked two free.
    The Indian spun back to her.
    She slashed the razor-like tops toward his arm.
    He flinched upon contact, his grip on her releasing, and then fell back another step.
    She waved her newfound weapon at him. 
    He showed surprise, then quirked a smile. A trickle of blood ran down his right forearm as he raised his hands.
    Christina sliced the air with the arrows, but he side-stepped them and again claimed her wrist. With a jerk, he swung her around, pulling her into him and snatching the shafts from her hand in one swift motion. Both of his arms held her firmly against his chest, rigid against her struggles. Involuntary tremors shook her body. Shivers. From cold, from fear, or from the pain of another contraction.
    The man gradually released her, and then stepped away completely.
    Christina didn’t look at him but sank to the ground and hid her face in her hands. What hope did she have? Anthony was already dead, and she was utterly lost in this labyrinth of mountain valleys and cliffs.