A Promise of Thunder (20 page)

On one of her trips into Guthrie, Storm learned that Nat Turner had mysteriously left town in December, and she wondered if Grady had had anything to do with his going. Knowing him, she supposed he had. She was grateful she no longer had to deal with the scoundrel.
She would thank Grady, if she ever saw him again.

Grady returned unexpectantly one exceptionally warm day in early March. Storm was turning over clods of dirt with a shovel in preparation for planting a backyard vegetable garden when she looked up and saw him standing so close she could reach out and touch him. Never would she become accustomed to the silent way in which he moved. His massive frame was clad in buckskins and moccasins; his ebony hair was longer than ever and his face more gaunt. His high cheekbones had hollows beneath them she hadn’t noticed before, and the dark circles beneath his eyes made them appear more vivid a blue than she remembered. His intense gaze searched her face, then roamed over her figure. What he saw must have disappointed him for he scowled.

“You came back,” she murmured.

For a moment he looked bewildered. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“I—didn’t know.”

Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, Storm caught a movement. A small body came hurtling toward them, running as fast as his small legs could carry him. “Papa, Papa, is this my new home?”

Grady’s expression softened as he gazed down at his exuberant son. Little Buffalo was the picture of his father, but without the blue eyes. His skin was golden brown, his eyes dark, his hair blacker even than Grady’s. There was a
nobleness about the child that proclaimed his proud Indian heritage. One day he would be every bit as handsome and imposing as his father. Storm looked for signs of Summer Sky in the boy and found it in the softness around his chin, the midnight darkness of his eyes.

“This is our homestead, Little Buffalo, and this is your new mother. From now on you will speak only English so that she can understand you. Greet Storm properly, son. She will be caring for you in future.”

Little Buffalo’s face grew hostile as he regarded Storm in an insulting manner. “I don’t want a new mother, Papa. I am perfectly happy with Laughing Brook. Why can’t she be my mother?”

“Because Laughing Brook belongs on the reservation with her family,” Grady explained patiently, “and Storm is my wife. Therefore, she will be your mother.”

Little Buffalo kicked viciously at a clod of dirt with his moccasined toe, then peered up at Storm resentfully. “Why did you marry
her?
Laughing Brook is much prettier.”

“Little Buffalo!”

“It’s all right, Grady,” Storm said, realizing that winning over Grady’s son wasn’t going to be easy. She dropped to her knees, until she was on the same level with the child. “I don’t want to take your real mother’s place, Little Buffalo, or take away any of the love you feel for Laughing Brook, but I hope we can become good friends.”

“I don’t remember my real mama,” Little Buffalo retorted sullenly. “I only remember Laughing Brook. I don’t need a mother as long as I have her.”

“But Laughing Brook isn’t here,” Storm explained gently.

“Yes, she is,” the boy said with an enthusiastic nod. “Papa brought her along.”

A probing query came into her eyes as her gaze flew up to search Grady’s face. His eyes were shuttered, his expression dark and unreadable. At the moment only one thought raced through Storm’s mind. Grady had told her that if she wasn’t willing to fill his needs, he’d find someone who would. Had he brought his dead wife’s sister here to be his mistress? Storm’s first glimpse of the lovely Indian maiden rounding the corner of the cabin sent her heart plummeting. The young woman was so beautiful, it hurt to look at her.

Her sleek black hair danced around her waist as if it had a life of its own and her huge dark eyes appeared enormous in her small golden face. Her lips were generously curved and lush in a way that could only be described as sultry. The ornately beaded deerskin dress and moccasins she wore revealed rather than concealed her tall, voluptuous figure. If Summer Sky had been as lovely as her sister, Storm reasoned, it was no wonder Grady would accept no substitutes.

Laughing Brook was laughing happily as she ran to Grady and flung her arms around his
neck, babbling in a language Storm assumed was Sioux.

“We will speak English for Storm’s benefit,” Grady said, unwinding her arms from around his neck. “Little Buffalo must become proficient in that language if he is to survive in the white world.” Then he turned to Storm, saying, “Storm, this is Laughing Brook, my sister-in-law. She has been caring for my son since my wife’s—since Summer Sky’s death. Laughing Brook, this is my wife, Storm. You must help her become acquainted with Little Buffalo, for she is now his mother.”

Laughing Brook’s smile dissipated into a pout. Her lower lip jutted out belligerently and her eyes glowed with a savage inner fire as they raked over Storm in an insolent manner. “She isn’t much to look at,” she said with a disdainful toss of her head. “Why is she so pale, Thunder?”

With her face and hands smudged with dirt and her hem dragging in the wet earth, Storm felt and looked like a bedraggled beggar woman compared to the resplendent Indian maiden. But Grady thought she was beautiful and would have said so if Storm hadn’t spoken up in her own defense.

“My skin has always been naturally pale. And,” she paused and shot Grady a fulminating look, “had I known when to expect
my husband
I would have made myself more presentable.”

Grady groaned inwardly. He could sense a storm brewing. “Take Little Buffalo inside the
cabin, Laughing Brook. I wish to speak with Storm privately.”

Little Buffalo looked from Laughing Brook to Storm and then to his father. Astute for one so young, he recognized Laughing Brook’s scorn for the white woman his father had married and came to a decision. During the long trip from the reservation, Laughing Brook had filled his head with horror stories about the terrible things white women did to small Indian children, until he hated and feared Storm long before he met her. And now, following Laughing Brook’s example of icy disdain, he squinted up at Storm and said, “I don’t like you. I’ll never forgive you for marrying Papa. He should have married Laughing Brook. It is the custom of the People.”

Smirking spitefully, Laughing Brook grasped Little Buffalo’s hand and led him away, pleased by her small charge’s lack of respect toward the white woman she had hated on sight. She was unaware of Storm’s dismay and Grady’s dark scowl, but had she been it wouldn’t have mattered in the least. One thing Laughing Brook felt secure in was the love of Little Buffalo. And Little Buffalo was the most important person in the world to Thunder. It wouldn’t be long, Laughing Brook thought gleefully, before Thunder’s white wife was sent packing and she, Laughing Brook, would take her place. It was the way it should have been in the beginning, and would have been if Thunder had followed tribal custom.

Grady’s scowl darkened as he watched Laughing Brook and Little Buffalo disappear around the corner of the cabin. When he turned back to Storm, her scowl was nearly as ferocious as his.

“Why did you bring her?” Storm asked, still in a state of shock over Grady’s arrival with another woman in tow.

“I had no choice,” Grady said. “Little Buffalo resisted leaving the reservation and I thought it would make his leaving less painful if I brought along Laughing Brook. She is like a mother to the boy and separating them would have been cruel. When he is fully adjusted to his new home and to you I will send Laughing Brook back to her people.”

“How long do you suppose that will be?” Her sarcasm was not lost on Grady.

Grady shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Weeks? Months? Years? My God, Grady, can’t you see Laughing Brook doesn’t like me? She’ll poison your son against me if she remains. He already resents me.”

“How can you say that?” Grady challenged. “You just met her. And Little Buffalo will come around. He just turned six years old and is still a child in mind and body.”

“Little Buffalo will do as Laughing Brook says. He obviously loves her.”

“Perhaps,” Grady said cryptically, “but I have every confidence you will win him over. Meanwhile, separating him from Laughing Brook now will only confuse and upset him. Besides, I’ve always found Laughing Brook a warm
and generous woman. First meetings are often deceptive. Given time she’ll adjust to the fact that you’re my wife.”

“There isn’t enough time in the world for that,” Storm muttered sourly.
Lord help us all
, she thought as she turned away.

“Storm.” He touched her shoulder and she swung around to face him, her eyebrows raised. “Aren’t you glad to see me?”

“I hated you after you left me the way you did.”

The harsh planes of his face softened and his blue eyes grew luminous. “I had to. I thought you understood. It was the only way I could retain my honor. If I remained in that cabin with you the entire winter, not even my solemn vow could have kept me from loving you as my body demanded.”

Storm flushed and looked away, unable to face the stark reality of his words. “What—what now? You’ve come back. Does that mean you no longer want me in that way? Has Laughing Brook given you what you want? I don’t understand why you didn’t marry Laughing Brook. Obviously your son loves her, and it was more or less expected of you.”

“If I wanted Laughing Brook, I would have taken her long ago,” Grady said with quiet emphasis. “Dammit, Storm, didn’t you miss me at all?”

“Did you miss me?” Storm shot back.

If she could have looked into his heart, she would have heard his silent cry.
I missed you
like the morning misses the sunrise and the night misses the dawn
. But he was a Lakota warrior and flowery phrases did not come easily to his lips. “You are my wife.”

“I’m surprised you remembered it.”

“Oh, lady, I remember. I remember more, much more. Like how wonderful you feel in my arms and how hotly you burn when my hands and mouth release the fire in you.”

“Grady …”

Suddenly she was in his arms, crushed tightly against the hard wall of his chest, crying out with the wonder of having every inch of his magnificent body pressed intimately against hers. It had been so long … so damn long.

Then he was claiming her mouth, shattering her thoughts with the hunger of his kisses, oblivious to the world around them. She savored the taste of him, of his tongue as it thrust into her mouth, and with sudden, painful insight she realized she would always want this man.

“Thunder, Little Buffalo is hungry. Shouldn’t your wife be fixing a meal for us?”

Grady’s frustrated groan brought Storm abruptly to her senses as she shot out of his arms. Laughing Brook had definitely picked the wrong time to intrude upon their privacy. Or had it been the right time? Obviously the Indian maiden knew exactly what she was doing.

“Laughing Brook is right,” Storm said, flushing. “You must all be hungry as well as tired. I’ll clean up at the river and be right in to fix
you a meal.” She turned and hurried off before Grady could stop her.

“I don’t think your white wife likes me,” Laughing Brook said, bringing her full lips together in a sensual pout. “Obviously you didn’t learn your lesson after what the White Eyes did to my sister.”

“Storm had nothing to do with Summer Sky’s death.”

“She’s white.”

“I brought you here for Little Buffalo’s sake,” Grady said sternly, “and I won’t abide trouble from either you or Storm. I have made my choice. Storm is my wife; please treat her with the respect and courtesy due her.”

“Bah, a husband does not leave his wife so soon after marriage unless he is not pleased with her. My eyes do not deceive me, Thunder. My heart tells me you are not pleased with your white wife. But I am not greedy. I will be your second wife. I will give you what she does not.”

“I have chosen to live in the white world, Laughing Brook, and am allowed only one wife by law.” He glanced toward the river, where Storm had fled, his blue eyes hazy with unquenchable heat. When he spoke again there was a gentle softness in his voice that Laughing Brook had never heard before. “Storm is the only wife I want.”

Her dark eyes flashing defiantly, Laughing Brook turned on her heel and marched back to the cabin. Though Thunder seemed to be
obsessed with his wife, she sensed things weren’t as they should be between them. No new bridegroom would leave his bride for two months if he wasn’t desperate to escape an unpleasant marriage. She had no idea what had prompted Thunder to take a white bride, for he was a taciturn man not given to divulging the secrets of his private life, but Laughing Brook wasn’t discouraged. Thunder had brought her to his homestead, hadn’t he?

Having the love of Little Buffalo gave her a hold on Thunder that his pale wife couldn’t duplicate, Laughing Brook reasoned. And as long as she was in a position to control the child’s mind, she would make certain Little Buffalo and Storm never became close. Already the boy disliked his stepmother because of the seeds of discontent she had planted in his mind.

The evening meal was a solemn one. Little Buffalo fell asleep at the table and Grady carried him to the pallet of furs and blankets he had fixed on the floor. The boy was to share it with Laughing Brook until Grady could build a separate bedroom for him and Storm. He had voiced his intention earlier to go to Guthrie the next day and buy lumber. Storm wondered if Grady intended to share the bed with her that night with his son and Laughing Brook in the same room. Although they were married, she knew she’d be embarrassed. But knowing Grady she figured it would make little difference who slept in the room.
She had heard somewhere that Indian families shared the same tepee.

After slanting Storm a furious look, Laughing Brook settled down on the pallet beside Little Buffalo. Grady blew out the light and Storm undressed, feeling more nervous than she had the first time Grady had crawled into bed beside her. At least that time they hadn’t had an audience. She didn’t know what she’d do if Grady wanted to make love. Before he returned from the reservation she had decided to be a wife to Grady in every way, but bringing Laughing Brook back with him had made a mockery of that decision.