A Promise of Thunder

wonderful wife and mother to Soars-Like-An-Eagle’s children. He was glad they would live at Peaceful Valley instead of on the reservation,where survival was a constant struggle.
    Storm was ecstatic when she heard about Laughing Brook and Soars-Like-An-Eagle. Nothing stood in the way now of attaining the kind of happiness she had always dreamed about. She wasn’t going to delve into the method Soars-Like-An-Eagle used to convince Laughing Brook that he was the man for her, but she’d be forever grateful to the young brave. And since they no longer had to make a detour to the reservation they could ride in comfort to Guthrie on the train.
    Shannon and Blade accompanied them to the train station two days later. It was a sad parting, but one filled with renewed hope for the future. Grady was no longer a renegade Indian obsessed with revenge. Nor was he the mysterious drifter who hated white men and used his guns to prove it. He was Grady Stryker. Husband, father, farmer.
    Tim was excited as the train approached Guthrie. But not as excited as Storm. Since their marriage she and Grady hadn’t been alone more than a few days. She looked forward with relish to her own household, with just Grady and Tim to occupy her days and nights. And the new baby, when it came, would make their life complete.
    The train traveled through land lush with ripening wheat, and Grady hoped his own acres were faring half as well. The golden stalks appeared to be reaching out to the sun, their heads bobbing in the breeze. In avery short time he could begin harvesting. If this year’s crop was as good as expected, he’d soon be able to build Storm the kind of house she deserved. Grady couldn’t recall when he’d been so happy.
    “We’re here!” Tim cried as the train pulled into the station in Guthrie only an hour behind schedule. Grady had been gone but two weeks, but Storm had been away over two months, and in that short time things had changed. There were several new businesses in town, a new church, and three new saloons.
    “I left the wagon at the livery,” Grady said as they joined the passengers leaving the train. “We’ll stop for supplies first, then head out to the homestead. I hope the Martins fared well in my absence.”
    “They’re the people you left in charge, aren’t they?” Storm asked curiously. Grady had told her how lucky he considered himself to find someone trustworthy to take care of things in his absence.
    “Yes, Mabel and her son Clem. They were forced to sell their own homestead when the elder Martin died. I’d like to ask them to stay on and help out, but our house is too small to shelter two more people. They spoke of opening a business in town, but I got the feeling their hearts were set on farming.”
    “Perhaps something can be worked out,” Storm mused thoughtfully.
    After two stops, one at the general store and the other at the bank, Grady aimed the wagontoward the homestead. When they reached the outer borders of their land his heart swelled with pride at the sight of tall stalks of wheat bending in the gentle breeze. He hadn’t been able to plant all his and Storm’s combined acres, but enough had been cultivated to assure them a good yield. And as added protection for their investment, there were still Storm’s cattle to fall back on if the crop, for some unforeseen reason, failed. But from the looks of the healthy plants there would be no reason for failure.
    Grady had sent a telegram ahead giving the date and approximate time they could be expected, and Mabel Martin had cooked a veritable feast in honor of their return. While Grady, Tim, and Storm devoured the meal, Clem and Mabel packed their belongings. Storm thought she saw a lingering sadness when Mabel looked around the snug cabin one last time.
    “You’ve done a wonderful job looking after the farm, Mrs. Martin,” Storm said sincerely. “Grady was lucky to have found you and your son.”
    “Please call me Mabel. It was a pleasure, Mrs. Stryker. Farming is really all we know, but when Hal died we had no money to support our farm. Clem worked hard, but our land isn’t as good as yours, and he wasn’t able to cultivate enough acres to make us a living. We sold out to a speculator for half what the land was worth. I’d give anything if we had a place like this,” Mabel added wistfully.
    “I have a suggestion,” Grady offered. “As you know, Storm homesteaded the quarter section of land adjacent to mine before we were