A Promise of Thunder (29 page)

Storm started violently. She hadn’t heard the young warrior approach and was immediately reminded of Grady, who moved as silently as a cat. The young man was tall and slim—too slim, perhaps—with shiny black hair, dark fathomless eyes, and a muscular build. He wore stained buckskins that had seen better days.

“I—who are you?”

“I am called Soars-Like-An-Eagle. Who are you?”

“I am Storm Stryker.”

“Storm Stryker,” the young brave repeated. Suddenly his face lit up. “You are Storm, wife of Thunder. Where is my friend Thunder? I would like to greet him.”

“He didn’t come.”

Soars-Like-An-Eagle looked puzzled. “Jumping Buffalo was supposed to bring Laughing Brook back with him. Where is she?”

“Laughing Brook couldn’t come. I came in her stead.”

“White customs are strange indeed,” Soars-Like-An-Eagle said, shaking his head. “Why would you leave Laughing Brook with Thunder and travel to the reservation in her place?”

“It’s a long story. I have come to care for Sweet Grass.”

“I was expecting Laughing Brook,” Soars-Like-An-Eagle said sourly. “It is time she returned to her people. I have offered many horses for the honor of marrying Laughing Brook, and her father has promised to intercede for me.”

“You want to marry Laughing Brook?” Storm asked, surprised that Laughing Brook would refuse this handsome young man.

“Many men want Laughing Brook, but she is stubborn and refuses to marry any of us. I suspect she is waiting for Thunder to claim her. That’s why I was overjoyed when Thunder returned for Little Buffalo and told us he had married. But I was not pleased that Laughing Brook went to Oklahoma with Thunder. I expected her to return long before now.”

Before Storm could form an answer, the tepee flap opened and a grim-faced Jumping Buffalo stepped out, followed by an ancient crone whose lined face dissolved into deeply plowed furrows.

“I have explained to Sweet Grass that Storm, wife of Thunder, will be caring for her. Though she doesn’t understand why Laughing Brook could not come, she welcomes you. Come, I will take you inside now so that Crooked Nose can go home and rest.”

Both Crooked Nose and Soars-Like-An-Eagle melted away as Storm bent low to enter the tepee, uncertain what she would find.

Sweet Grass’s wasted form lay on a bed of furs. Despite the stifling heat inside the tepee, she was covered with a blanket. Her eyes were open, and despite the woman’s debilitating illness Storm thought she had never seen eyes so gentle or uncomplaining. The thought struck her that Summer Sky must have taken after her mother if she was as sweet and compliant as Grady indicated.

“Welcome, wife of Thunder,” Sweet Grass rasped. “It is good of you to come.”

“Since Laughing Brook is unable to come I thought it fitting that I should take her place,” Storm said. “Besides, I wanted to come.” It came as a shock to Storm that she actually meant what she said. She
did
want to come with Jumping Buffalo, and she was glad to be of some service to Sweet Grass, for Grady held both Sweet Grass and Jumping Buffalo in high esteem.

Sweet Grass smiled sweetly, then closed her eyes. She slept a great deal during her illness, which worried Jumping Buffalo.

Taking Jumping Buffalo aside, Storm asked, “What is wrong with her? Has the doctor seen her?”

“Sweet Grass took a fever during the winter, seemed to get better with the coming of warm weather, then suddenly grew worse. As for the doctor, I cannot abide the man the government sends to treat our sick. He is dirty and nearly always drunk. Crooked Nose has been treating Sweet Grass with medicine concocted
from herbs and bark. It is better than anything the doctor can give her.”

“I know nothing of medicine,” Storm said.

“I ask only that you follow Crooked Nose’s instructions. She is old and cannot be here all the time, for there are others who need her services. Everyone on the reservation has sick family members; that is why I had great need of Laughing Brook. It is a daughter’s place to care for her mother.”

“I will do my utmost to care for Sweet Grass,” Storm said earnestly. “I pray it will be enough.”

“It will be enough, wife of Thunder,” Jumping Buffalo said solemnly.

“Thunder, it is late. Please come inside. I’ve kept your supper warm.”

Grady paused in his work, reluctant to go inside the cabin, where memories of Storm were so strong. The curtains she had hung at the windows, the furnishings they had purchased together, even the scent that lingered on the air in their bedroom combined to make his life empty and unbearable. How could she leave him without so much as a good-bye? He wondered for the thousandth time during the past weeks. Missing Storm proved to be an agony surpassed only by the death of Summer Sky. And even that sad event had dimmed in his memory when Storm had filled the void left by the death of his young wife.

“Thunder, do you hear me? Why must you
work so long and so hard?”

Grady expelled an exasperated breath. Work was his salvation and his solace. From the moment he had returned home after being wounded by Bull he had plunged recklessly into work, disregarding the pain caused by his healing injury and the distinct probability that he could do himself more harm than good by pursuing so active a life after being recently hurt.

The thought that he had allowed himself to become careless still stung. It never would have happened if he hadn’t been thinking of Storm’s threat to leave him if he dueled with Bull. And not having used his skill with a gun in several months had no doubt contributed to his lack of speed. Of course, learning that his bullet had struck and killed Bull almost instantly had helped relieve his feelings of inadequacy, but did little to ease his anguish over Storm’s leaving.

“Thunder, please.”

“I’m coming,” Grady grumbled once he realized Laughing Brook wasn’t going to give him a moment’s peace until he returned to the house.

It was becoming much too dark to work anyway. In the weeks since Storm had left he had plunged deeply into backbreaking work. He had built a stable to shelter the horses and store the wagon and was now hard at work on a barn. Not only was hard physical labor good for the soul, but it helped keep haunting memories of Storm at bay.

Grady paused at the back door to wash up in the bucket of water placed there for his convenience before entering the cabin. A small whirlwind hurtled into Grady’s arms and he hugged his son tightly.

“Why do you work so hard, Papa?” the little boy asked. “Laughing Brook says you will sicken if you don’t rest more.”

Grady shot Laughing Brook a quelling look. “Hard work never hurt anyone, son.”

“It’s late. Laughing Brook and I have already eaten.

“There is plenty left over for your father,” Laughing Brook was quick to add. “Sit, Thunder.”

Grady bolted down his meal, neither tasting nor savoring the food set before him, though it was tasty enough. These days he ate to nourish his body, finding little enjoyment in the act. Tim sat beside him, chatting about his day while Laughing Brook hovered nearby, ready to cater to Grady’s every whim. The moment he was finished he rose abruptly and disappeared into his bedroom. He returned a few minutes later with soap and towel.

“Put Tim to bed, Laughing Brook,” he said brusquely. “I’m going to the river to bathe.”

Laughing Brook watched Grady leave, her eyes dark with intense longing. Nothing was turning out the way she’d planned. Weeks had slipped by since Storm walked out of Thunder’s life, yet he hadn’t turned to her in desire as she had hoped. She knew he was aware of
her wish to please him in every way, yet he had deliberately kept his distance. He was remote, untouchable and cold. Only to his son did he display the soft side of his nature, and then only fleetingly.

Laughing Brook was at her wit’s end. She no longer knew if what she had done was right, for it had made Grady sink deeper into a world of bitterness and silence. If only she could get through to him, she thought desperately. If only she could convince him to accept her into his life. Grady needed the kind of comfort that could only be obtained from a warm, loving woman eager to ease his suffering.

Intuitively Laughing Brook realized that she must take the initiative if she wanted Grady, and an arrested look came over her features. She had waited patiently for Grady to make the first move, but since he continued to ignore her she was forced to take matters into her own hands.

Grady lingered as long as possible at the river. The night was exceptionally warm and the water refreshing after his hard day’s labor. His body was sore and stiff, a feeling he had grown accustomed to of late, as his muscles protested being worked without respite. But his muscles weren’t the only part of his body that ached. His loins ached with the memory of how wonderful it had felt to thrust himself deep inside Storm’s softness. He wanted to be inside her, filling her, moving in and against her, feeling
the delicious heat curl through him, burst into flame and consume their bodies. He had been celibate for a long time after Summer Sky’s death and had managed to control his urges without undue discomfort. But somehow wanting and needing Storm far surpassed anything in his experience or memory.

Bitter regret sighed through Grady as he waded from the river, gathered up his soiled clothes, and returned to the cabin wearing only his breechclout. He hoped Laughing Brook had already retired, for he felt too emotionally drained to spar with her. His heart was heavy with the burden he had accepted when he had denied Storm’s request to ignore Bull’s challenge. He knew then he could lose Storm, but never in his wildest dreams had he imagined she would callously walk away from their relationship without a backward glance. She had too much to lose if she left.

Yet in the end it hadn’t mattered. Storm obviously didn’t care enough about him or their homestead to work out their differences.

The cabin was dark when he entered. Both beds at the far end seemed occupied, so Grady gave them little more than a cursory glance. When he entered the bedroom he didn’t bother lighting a lamp, for the moon was at its fullest and illuminated the room quite adequately. Slipping off his breechclout, he slid between the cool sheets. A curse left his lips when he realized he wasn’t alone.

“Dammit, Laughing Brook, what does it take
to convince you I am not interested in having you in my bed?”

“I do not believe you, Thunder,” Laughing Brook said softly. “You have not had a woman in many weeks. Don’t I please you?”

She leaned up on her elbow, and Grady felt the soft flesh of her bare breasts brush against his chest. He groaned in genuine agony and tried to reach for anger in his weary soul, but could find none. Not for Laughing Brook, who cared for his son without complaint. His anger was directed in another direction, toward a woman who cared so little for him that she had abandoned him when he was sick and helpless.

“I do like you, and you are very pleasing, Laughing Brook. That’s why I won’t take you to my bed. You are more like a little sister to me than a lover. You played with my own sisters when they were growing up. I feel no special bond with you outside of friendship.”

Laughing Brook frowned, trying to make sense of his words. “You need a woman.” Her hand slid boldly down his stomach, feeling the muscles jump beneath her fingertips, then lower into the wiry thatch of black between his legs. When her fingers curled around him, he jerked violently. A delighted gurgle bubbled past her lips. “See? I do not lie. You are ready and I am willing. Thunder, why do you resist?”

Why, indeed, Grady thought harshly as his whole body began to tremble beneath her touch. With more restraint than he thought
possible, he flung her hand aside. “I already have a wife and I refuse to ruin you. Jumping Buffalo is my friend. I will not violate his trust. I assume you are still a maiden. Your virginity rightfully belongs to your husband.”

“I will be your second wife,” Laughing Brook offered. She was growing desperate now, realizing her seduction wasn’t working.

“As I have said, a man is allowed only one wife in the white world,” Grady explained patiently.

“Storm is no wife to you!” Laughing Brook contended. “She left willingly enough. Is there no white man’s law that deals with such things?”

“If Storm wants a divorce, she will have to pursue it,” Grady said stubbornly. “Leave me, Laughing Brook, before I do something I will regret.”

“You are no warrior,” Laughing Brook spat derisively. “A warrior takes what he wants.”

“What I want is for you to leave my bed. Now. Your action tonight tells me that it is time you returned to the reservation. I’m sure there are men aplenty waiting for your return. You are very beautiful, Laughing Brook. Any man would be proud to have you for his wife. You deserve better than serving as second wife to a man who would only use you for one purpose.”

“If you are the man, then you can use me in any way you please. I love you. I have always loved you.”

She slid atop him, rubbing against him like a cat in heat, bringing every part of her body into intimate contact with every part his. Grady grit his teeth and nearly lost the ability to think. He
did
need a woman. His body burned and ached with that need, so why should he deny himself the gratification Laughing Brook generously offered? The answer was simple. Because he had given his word to Jumping Buffalo to keep his daughter safe, and to break that trust would be to lose his honor. But more importantly, he couldn’t make love to Laughing Brook because his need for Storm was so strong it rendered him incapable of bedding another woman.

“Stop that!” Grady grit out, grasping her about the waist and plucking her from atop him. Her flesh was firm, satiny smooth, and warm to his touch, and Grady nearly lost his resolve. “Go back to your bed. Tomorrow I will make provisions for your return to the reservation. And there is something I have been considering for a long time, something to ease my own peace of mind. I want to visit my parents at Peaceful Valley. It is time I made my peace with them and reacquainted them with their grandchild. Perhaps they will find it in their hearts to forgive me for alienating myself from them and seeking a life different from the one they wanted for me.”