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Authors: Connie Mason

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BOOK: A Promise of Thunder
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“But you always hated the White Eyes, Papa,” Tim said, puzzled by Grady’s turnabout.

“I’ve since learned there are good White Eyes and bad White Eyes, just as there are good Indians and bad Indians.” He rose to his feet. Suddenly he reached out, took Storm’s chin between thumb and forefinger, and lifted her face so she was forced to look into his eyes. “Storm is a good White Eyes. She has never done anything to hurt the People. She is not meek, gentle, or obedient like your mother was, but I have learned that the qualities Storm possesses are more desirable in the world we live in.” His eyes sparkled with mirth and one corner of his mouth tilted upward in the parody of a smile. “Though there are times Storm sorely tries my temper, she is my wife for better or for worse and will remain my wife. Once you realize that, Tim, you’ll be able to accept Storm and we’ll all be happier for it.”

Storm was truly stunned by Grady’s words. When he released her chin the tips of his fingers caressed the hollow at the base of her throat in a gesture so intimate her flesh tingled long after he removed his hand. She wanted to believe Grady had married her because it was what he truly desired, but she found it
difficult to swallow. Before they were wed he had admitted that there was no room in his heart for love, that having loved once he had no intention of doing so again. Obviously no woman alive could take the place of his dead wife. But that had been perfectly agreeable with her, for she had loved Buddy and wanted no other man replacing him in her heart.

But that was before … Before she learned about passion and being loved in ways she never dreamed possible and experiencing the kind of bliss she never attained with Buddy. If it was possible to love twice, Storm reasoned, then Grady was truly her soulmate in ways she had never imagined with Buddy. But it was difficult giving your heart to a man whose loving inspired guilt and shame, Storm thought contritely.

Storm wasn’t the only one dazed by Grady’s words. For the first time since leaving the reservation, Tim realized that Storm would always be a part of his life. And that he could never look backward to the life he had once known with Laughing Brook. His father had chosen to live in the white world and he must conform to those rules if he was to attain a modicum of happiness.

“Do I have to call her mama?” Tim asked sullenly.

Grady seemed at a loss for words, but Storm quickly jumped into the void. “Not if you don’t want to. Just call me Storm until we feel more comfortable with one another.”

Tim thought about that for awhile, then nodded slowly. “If it’s all right with Papa, then I shall call you Storm.”

“I think it’s a fine idea, son,” Grady said solemnly. “And if you’d like, later you can help me build a chicken coop. Having chicken and fresh eggs whenever we want will be a treat.”

Satisfied, Tim ran off, leaving Storm and Grady staring after him. When Grady turned to face her the tension loomed between them like a heavy mist. She waited for him to speak, but he seemed as reluctant as she to break the silence. It was as if this moment had been building from the moment Grady had returned home; he was like a volcano on the verge of erupting. Grady touched her cheek, and the breath seemed to solidify in her throat.

“Storm …”

“Thunder, where is Little Buffalo? I can’t find him.”

Once again Laughing Brook had intruded upon a private moment. It seemed to Storm as if the Indian maiden deliberately spied on them and knew exactly when to interrupt. Never had she felt so close to Grady or so ready to admit that she had forgiven him for Buddy’s death. For the first time since their hasty wedding, Storm truly felt they could make something of this marriage.

Muttering an oath, Grady swung around to glare at Laughing Brook. He sincerely hoped Tim would learn to cope without her soon so he could return her to the reservation. It was time
she chose a husband from among the warriors vying for her hand.

“Tim can’t be far, Laughing Brook,” Grady said tightly. “Perhaps he went down to the river.”

“Then I shall help Storm dig in the garden,” she offered sweetly, knowing full well that she had interrupted a special moment between husband and wife.

Storm smiled ruefully. “Since you have offered, I welcome your help.” She handed Laughing Brook the shovel.

Seething with frustration, Grady turned and stomped off. But the look he gave Storm before he departed was more potent than a glass of fine brandy.

After supper that night Laughing Brook managed to corner Grady alone when he went to the river to fetch water for Storm’s bath. She had sneaked out of the cabin while Storm was busy putting things in place in the new bedroom. Tim had wandered into the bedroom after Storm, leaving Laughing Brook free to pursue Grady. She found him standing knee deep in the river, bathing. His bronze skin shimmered with iridescent drops of water, and his hair was dripping. His back was to her and despite the coolness of the March night he was splashing icy water over his entire body.

Laughing Brook stared greedily at the taut mounds of his bare buttocks, reluctantly moving her eyes upward to the thickly bunched muscles of his arms and torso, flexing involuntarily
from the shock of icy water against his heated flesh. She licked her lips, feeling her need for Grady in every crevice and curve of her body. Then, in one fluid motion, she removed her dress and kicked off her moccasins. She stepped into the water, shivering violently but warmed by the vision of Grady’s hard body pressed intimately against her own lush curves.

She had nearly reached him when Grady heard her. He whirled, stunned by the sight of Laughing Brook, naked, her supple skin gilded a tawny gold by the moonlight. He stood motionless, staring at her as if mesmerized, until she was close enough for the heat of her body to reach out and scorch him.

“Isn’t it a little cold for you to be bathing in the river?” he asked, striving to keep his voice level. It was difficult with the full ripeness of her breasts so close to his chest.

“It’s not too cold for you.”

“I’m a man.”

“I know. Not just a man but a mighty warrior.” She looked pointedly downward. “Your loins are full and heavy. I would ease you if you’d allow it. I know your wife hasn’t been a true wife to you. I would comfort you in your need.” She moved closer, until the diamond-hard tips of her breasts stabbed against his chest.

“You shouldn’t be here. If I’d known you wanted to bathe, I would have given you privacy,” Grady said in a strangled voice.

Laughing Brook’s answer was to wind her arms around Grady’s neck and rub her body against his. “You know what I want, Thunder.”

Grady started violently when she pressed her mouth to his. He felt the flick of her hot tongue against his lips and tried to step backward, but Laughing Brook refused to be dislodged. They stood suspended in the knee-deep water for the space of a heartbeat before the sand beneath his feet suddenly gave way and Grady lost his balance. He fell into the water, taking Laughing Brook with him. The shock of the cold water relaxed her grip on him as she came up sputtering. Grady seized the opportunity. He turned abruptly and waded back to shore, leaving Laughing Brook sitting in the cold water, sputtering in indignation.

Storm was tucking Tim into bed when Grady entered the cabin. Drops of water beaded his hair, and his shirt clung wetly to his back and shoulders. He carried a bucket of water in each hand, and she assumed he had bathed in the river when he went to fetch water. Bathing in the cold river was a habit she couldn’t accustom herself to, though Grady did it nearly every day except for the coldest days of winter. He set the buckets on the stove to heat before speaking.

“The water will be hot shortly. I know how you appreciate a hot bath. Take your time; I’ll see to the animals.”

“Thank you,” Storm said, declining to look at
him. She knew they would be alone tonight for the first time in months, and she wasn’t certain what she would do or how she would act. But from all indications, Grady knew exactly what he wanted.

Laughing Brook entered the cabin a few minutes later, looking enormously pleased with herself. Storm frowned when she noted that the Indian girl looked sensuously bedraggled. Her hair was dripping wet and her buckskin dress damp. Had she been with Grady at the river? Had they bathed together? Had they … Storm’s lips turned down into a frown when she envisioned Grady and Laughing Brook making love in the water. The pain of it nearly doubled her over.

Laughing Brook’s bubbling laughter floated to her from across the room. “Thunder was magnificent tonight. Have you ever made love in the water? No,” she said, forestalling Storm’s answer, “I doubt that you have. Thunder says you are a cold woman. Did you know he is thinking of making me his second wife?”

Her face flaming, Storm withheld comment. What could she say? With studied indifference she tested the water in one bucket, found it comfortably warm, and carried it into the bedroom she would be sharing with Grady. She had to admit that being able to close the door on Laughing Brook gave her enormous pleasure. Too bad she couldn’t do the same with Grady and banish him from their bedroom.

Earlier, Grady had placed the large brass tub
Storm had purchased in town in the center of the room. All Storm had to do was fill it with the buckets of warm water. Undressing quickly, she eased into the tub and let the heady warmth envelop her. Aware that Grady would return at any moment, she picked up the soap and began to wash. She gave a squeak of dismay when Grady entered the room a few minutes later and quietly shut the door behind him.

His breath caught in his throat when he saw her, and he leaned against the door, looking his fill. Storm felt the effect of his potent stare in the way her body warmed and tingled wherever his gaze touched.

“I’ve waited forever for this night.” His voice had a certain gravel roughness that Storm recognized immediately. Her knees jerked upright to her chest and she hugged them tightly, exposing as little of herself as possible. Grady grinned in wry amusement. “If that’s meant to discourage me, it’s not working, lady.”

“I—I’m not through bathing yet.”

“I’d hoped you wouldn’t be. Let me scrub your back.”

She offered a feeble protest when he took the washcloth from her hand and moved behind her. When she felt the cloth touch her back and the gentle motion of his hand against her sensitive skin, a shudder raced down her spine. The musky, masculine scent of him filled her nostrils and she gave a breathless murmur of pleasure. When Grady bent to touch his lips to her bare shoulder, she nearly jumped out of her
skin. Suddenly the washcloth hit the water and Grady leaped to his feet, a growl of impatience rumbling from his throat.

“Bath time is over, lady,” he said harshly. His chest was heaving, as if each breath was raw agony, and his face was stark with raw need.

When Storm failed to move he scooped her out of the water and carried her dripping to the bed. “Grady!”

“Tonight I’m going to love you the way I’ve wanted to, the way I’ve dreamed of since the day I arrived home.”

When she tried to jump from the bed, he pinned her down with his body. “You’re not going anywhere, lady.”

“Isn’t one woman a night enough for you?” Storm hissed from between clenched teeth.

“What in the hell are you talking about?”

“Weren’t you at the river with Laughing Brook tonight?”

Grady went still. “How did you know that?”

Storm snorted derisively. “It wasn’t difficult to guess what went on when you both came in dripping wet.”

“I admit Laughing Brook found me at the river tonight, but nothing happened.”

“Ha! You expect me to believe that? I know she’s served as your mistress since you brought her here, and probably before that. You warned me you’d find another woman to take my place in your bed and you did. All you wanted me for was to raise your son. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t let Laughing Brook raise Tim.
Things were fine before I came into the picture. Tim will always resent me and love Laughing Brook.”

Grady’s expression hardened as he raised himself on his elbows and stared down at Storm. “Is that what you think? That Laughing Brook is my mistress? I told you my reasons for bringing her home with me. Didn’t you believe me?”

“How could I believe you when I saw and heard Laughing Brook in your bed?” Storm said with brutal honesty. “She told me herself that you—you made love to her tonight. Do you think I’m a fool? Laughing Brook is smitten with you and obviously you like what she gives you. Wouldn’t it be better if I left the three of you alone?”

“Lakota warriors do not lie,” Grady said gravely. “If I say Laughing Brook is not my mistress, it is the truth. If I tell you I have
never
bedded her, you must accept my word.”

Storm stared at him. His expression was harsh in the flickering lamplight. Though his blue eyes blazed hotly, she saw nothing in their azure depths to indicate he was lying or attempting to deceive her.

“But I know for a fact Laughing Brook was in your pallet that night Tim had a bad dream and awoke crying for her.”

“In my pallet, perhaps, but that was all. I sent her back to bed the moment I realized who it was. For one crazy moment, I thought you had crawled into bed with me,” he said ruefully.
“Lord, I wanted it to be you, but the moment I realized it was Laughing Brook I ordered her back to bed.”

“And tonight, at the river? Laughing Brook told me …”

“She lied. She told you what she had hoped would happen but didn’t. I may be many things, Storm, but I am not a liar.”

Storm’s heart soared and fragile hope took root in that sacred place where love dwells. “You’ve not had a woman since—since the day you left our homestead? Why, that seems incredible!”

Grady looked affronted. “I have practiced restraint many times in the past. A Lakota warrior must learn to control his passions before he goes into battle against the enemy. It was no great hardship for me.”

“But your note said you left me because you
couldn’t
control yourself around me. I don’t understand. Why am I different from any other woman?”

“Oh, lady, if I knew the answer to that I’d know the secrets only Grandfather knows. My pride, my honor, they mean nothing to me when I am with you. I would gladly forsake them for one sweet kiss from your lips. I want you as I’ve never wanted another woman.”

BOOK: A Promise of Thunder
10.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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