Read A Promise of Thunder Online
Authors: Connie Mason
“You can peek in on him, but he won’t know you’re there. He’s heavily sedated. I suggest you go home and rest. By tomorrow he’ll be able to speak to you, though he
won’t be up to carrying on a long conversation.”
“Go home?” Storm asked, dismay coloring her words. “I want to stay with Grady.”
“I don’t think—”
“Please, Doctor, I must. What if he wakes up in the night and wants something?”
The doctor sighed wearily. “Very well, young lady. You certainly are persistent. I’ll see that a comfortable chair is available so you can rest.”
“When can I take Grady home?”
“Not for several days. It’s best he remain here in case infection develops.”
Grady awoke several times during the night, asking for water. He didn’t appear to know her or recognize his surroundings or recall the circumstances that brought him to such a pass. Toward dawn Storm managed to snatch a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. She didn’t awaken until the doctor came in to see his patient the next morning, before he opened his office.
“How long before Grady regains consciousness?” Storm asked as the doctor inspected Grady’s wound and changed his bandage.
“He should awaken soon,” the doctor predicted. “See that he stays calm and does nothing to dislodge the bandage or reopen the wound. I’ll be in my office seeing patients. Call me if you need me.” He started out the door, then turned back to Storm. “I’ll have my wife carry you up some breakfast.”
It was nearly noon when Grady began showing signs of coming out of his stupor. When he began thrashing around in the bed Storm had to literally hold him down. He opened his eyes, looked at her without comprehension, then drifted off again. He was still in a state of semi-awareness when the door to the room burst open and Laughing Brook stepped inside.
Storm whirled, shocked by the wild look in the Indian girl’s black eyes. “Is he dead?” Laughing Brook asked. She was in a state of near panic. “It is your fault! If Thunder wasn’t thinking about you and your decision to leave him, this wouldn’t have happened to him. He’s faster with a gun and more cunning than any man alive.”
“Laughing Brook! What are you doing here? How did you know?”
“When Thunder didn’t return home last night I knew something terrible had happened. I went to the sheriff’s office and he told me what happened and where to find Thunder. Is he dead?”
“No, don’t even think it. The doctor operated and he’s going to be just fine. He should be coming around any moment now. Where is Tim? You didn’t leave him alone, did you?”
“No, Little Buffalo is outside.” She walked to the bed, her eyes filled with tears as she searched Grady’s face. “Why is he so white?”
“He’s lost a great deal of blood.”
Just then Grady opened his eyes, searching the room restlessly until his gaze settled on Storm, standing at the foot of the bed. His first attempt to speak failed, but he was finally able to ask, “Where—am I?”
“In Dr. Finney’s surgery,” Storm said, moving closer. “You were shot yesterday. Do you remember?
For a moment Grady looked confused. “I—”
“Don’t try to speak. Rest now; you’re going to be all right. Would you like some water?”
He nodded, and Storm offered him a sip from the glass sitting on the stand beside the bed. Suddenly his eyes narrowed and he looked at her strangely. His penetrating gaze sent a prickle of apprehension down her spine. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. “Grady, what is it?”
“Storm—don’t want you—go away.”
“What!” Storm’s heart was pounding so loudly it drowned out everything but his startling words. Was Grady trying to tell her he didn’t want her anywhere near him? Was he still angry at her decision to leave him?
His eyes glittering like two brittle diamonds, Grady struggled to speak again. “Don’t want you—go away.”
“Oh.” Storm’s hands flew to her face. Grady’s rejection was like a knife thrust to her heart. Abruptly, she whirled and fled from the room, unable to bear Laughing Brook’s gloating look.
Had she remained one moment longer she would have heard Grady say, “Storm, I—don’t
want you—to go away.” Only Laughing Brook heard Grady’s plea, and nothing short of death would drag it from her. When she saw that Grady had fallen back to sleep she quietly left the room. She found Storm standing just outside the door, weeping into her hands. Laughing Brook taunted her cruelly. “You abandoned him when he needed you. You have no reason to stay with him now; you heard what he said.”
“He didn’t know what he was saying,” Storm said defensively. “Who will raise his son?”
“I will continue to do what I have done since Summer Sky’s death. Little Buffalo is like my own child, and Thunder belongs to me. It is the way of the People. What further proof do you need?”
What proof indeed? Storm thought bleakly. Grady had spoken his mind and obviously couldn’t bear the sight of her. She had hurt and angered him by leaving when he needed her and now he truly wished her gone. In her absence Laughing Brook would gladly care for his son and warm his bed.
Laughing Brook searched Storm’s expressive face, gleefully anticipating her reaction. It was everything she could have hoped for. “I won’t stay where I’m not wanted,” Storm said. “I will honor Grady wishes.”
“Where will you go?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll think of something. I have a room at the hotel. You and Tim are welcome to it. It’s paid for until the end of the week. By then Grady should be ready to go home. Tell
him—tell him—” Her words fell off. What could she say to a man who didn’t want her? That she loved him? That she had never really wanted to leave him? That she had only wanted him to understand how much she deplored violence?
“I think it best that you do not see Thunder again,” Laughing Brook said. “It will only upset him. I will care for him quite diligently.”
“I’m sure you will,” Storm said dryly.
The heavy weight of rejection rested heavily on Storm’s shoulders as she walked away from Grady. During those few moments before sundown when she had rushed out of the hotel, she began to realize just how much Grady meant to her. Hearing him tell her to go away had been a shattering experience. She’d expected him to be angry at her for leaving, but she had hoped he’d realize she was forced to act as she had because she had as much pride as he. How foolish she had been to think she could persuade Grady to mend his ways or be reasonable about her request. But Grady Stryker was a man with little patience or forgiveness in his barren heart.
Rushing out the door of the doctor’s surgery, Storm nearly stumbled over Tim’s small form
crouched on the porch steps. When the boy saw her he jumped to his feet and hugged her fiercely, his little arms barely reaching around her legs.
“Is Papa all right, Storm?” he asked anxiously. “May I please see him? Laughing Brook told me to stay outside until she sent for me.”
Smiling through her tears, Storm knelt and gathered the child in her arms. “Your papa is going to be fine, Tim. He is beginning to wake up. I’m sure he’ll be pleased to see you.”
Tim’s face was radiant. “I was so afraid,” he choked out as he tried so hard to be brave. “Where are you going? You’re not going to leave Papa while he’s sick, are you?”
Bitter anguish clouded Storm’s face. “It’s what your father wants, Tim. But perhaps I won’t go far and we can still see one another occasionally.”
“It’s not what Papa wants!” Tim denied fiercely. “He told me he married you because he wanted to, and Papa doesn’t lie.”
The child’s words added fuel to Storm’s distress. Grady was ordinarily a very truthful man. She knew he wasn’t lying when he told her he wanted her to leave.
“I know how anxious you are. Why don’t you go inside and see your father now. Tell Laughing Brook—tell her I’ll trade the wagon for the horse she rode to town. She’ll find it at the livery. She’ll need it to carry your father back home.” Without waiting for a reply, she turned abruptly, mounted the horse hitched to
the railing, and rode away. It was the most difficult thing she’d ever done.
Storm stopped at the hotel first, where she informed the clerk that Laughing Brook and Tim would be occupying her room. Then she quickly packed her clothes and left the room. Once in the street she attached the valise to the saddle and stood beside the horse, deep in thought. She hadn’t the slightest notion where she was going or what she should do. It came to her suddenly that the cattle feeding on the lush grass growing on their land belonged to her. She had purchased them with the remainder of Buddy’s money, and Grady had insisted that they be treated as her property alone.
If she sold half the herd, she might have enough money to rebuild her cabin on the land she had homesteaded. The deed had been changed to show that her name was now Storm Stryker, but legally the land was still hers. Something else Grady had insisted upon. As long as they were married, it wasn’t necessary to divide the land into what belonged to her and what was Grady’s, but since Grady no longer wanted her as his wife she felt justified in taking what was hers. Her mind settled, Storm mounted and reined the horse toward the homestead. Since no one would be occupying the cabin while Grady mended in town, she felt safe in staying there.
Storm’s mind went in many directions during the ride to the cabin, but her decision never wavered concerning her reluctance to return to
Missouri. She had nothing to look forward to in Missouri but a bleak existence. Buddy’s parents would certainly blame her for his untimely death, and her own parents, though they loved her dearly, didn’t need another child to shelter or feed. She had much to think about, Storm decided as the cabin came into view. She and Grady were as separate as two humans could be, and her future depended on her ability to survive through adversity.
Briefly, she considered selling her quarter section of land to Nat Turner and settling farther west, in Wyoming or Montana. But the thought of Turner making a profit off the land she had won was abhorrent to her. And Grady would be livid.
It was dusk when Storm dismounted and unfastened her valise from the saddle. She spent a few minutes unsaddling the horse and rubbing him down before carrying her valise into the house. Lengthening shadows created dancing specters in the corners of the dark room as she opened the door and stepped inside. Dropping the valise beside the door, she went directly to the table to light the lamp. Suddenly she froze, feeling the hackles rise on the back of her neck. Her senses told her she wasn’t alone, and every nerve recoiled at the thought.
“Who’s there?” she called out, whirling to face the unseen foe.
“I will not hurt you, wife of Thunder.”
Storm sucked in a shaky breath. “Who are you?”
A man stepped out of the shadows. Dressed in buckskins, his tall, muscular form was painfully thin, creating an illusion of fragile strength. His moccasined feet were noiseless on the wooden floor as he moved to where Storm could see him clearly. His braided hair was no longer black but generously streaked with gray. His dark face was creased, his brow deeply furrowed, his eyes sharp and assessing. Storm recognized a commanding strength in his aging body; the same unyielding strength she found in Grady. At first she thought the man was Grady’s father, but she had assumed that Blade Stryker no longer dressed like an Indian or followed their customs.
“I am Jumping Buffalo, father of Laughing Brook. I have come for my daughter. Her mother has great need of her.”
Storm allowed herself to relax, realizing this man would not hurt her. “Laughing Brook is not here. She and Tim are in Guthrie with Grady. Grady has been shot.”
Jumping Buffalo turned his dark gaze on her. “Why are you not with your husband? Are my daughter and grandson all right?”
“They’re fine, Jumping Buffalo. Laughing Brook stayed in town to care for Grady until he can be brought home. He was shot defending himself against one of the men who—who—caused Summer Sky’s death.”
Jumping Buffalo’s stoic features gave away nothing of what he was feeling, yet Storm could tell her words gave him enormous satisfaction.
“It is not like Thunder to allow himself to become careless. Am I to assume the other man is dead?”
Storm nodded. “Not only is Bull dead, but so are the other two men who were with him that day in Cheyenne. They were killed in a bank robbery.”
Jumping Buffalo’s nostrils flared and his eyes glowed darkly with pleasure. “It is as it should be. Summer Sky’s spirit is at peace now and Thunder’s soul will no longer be troubled. I will take my daughter home with me. It is not her place to care for your husband.”
Suddenly Storm became very busy as she struck a match and lit the lamp, flooding the room with light. Then, because she intuitively knew Jumping Buffalo would see through her lie, she faced him squarely and said, “Grady prefers Laughing Brook. He doesn’t need me.”
Jumping Buffalo searched Storm’s face, her expression revealing all the anguish she was suffering. “I am sorry that my daughter has interfered in your life. It is good that I have come for her. Times are hard and food is scarce on the reservation, but her mother is ill and needs her.”
“Do not blame your daughter, Jumping Buffalo. Oh, I’ll not deny that jealousy wasn’t involved, but Laughing Brook is not the cause of the trouble between me and Grady. Our problem is much more complex. I cannot abide the violent life Grady lives. My first husband died because of a senseless act of
violence, and I cannot bear to see Grady killed in the same way. I told him I’d leave him if he engaged in a gunfight with Bull, and he chose vengeance over me. I can’t live that way.”
“Thunder did what his pride demanded. He is wounded. Would you leave him when he is helpless?”
“I was given no choice,” Storm said stonily. “It’s what Grady wants. I’ll abide by his wishes.”
“I am sorry for both you and Thunder,” Jumping Buffalo said slowly, “but it doesn’t change my decision to take Laughing Brook back to the reservation with me. Sweet Grass needs Laughing Brook to care for her, and I will not return without my daughter.”
“Laughing Brook must care for Tim while Grady is recovering,” Storm said.