A Promise of Thunder

it’s pure pleasure.” He wagged his eyebrows and flashed an impudent grin that made her heart beat faster. “And sweetheart, it’s always a pleasure doing business with you.”
    “Take me home, Grady,” Storm sighed happily. “It’s time to start the rest of our lives.”

Epilogue
     
    Guthrie, Oklaholma
1906
    “Hurry, Mama, Papa says Number One is ready to blow!”
    Ten-year-old Chad’s blue eyes glowed with excitement as he grabbed Storm’s hand and dragged her through the kitchen door.
    “Chad, I have a pie in the oven. I can’t leave now.” Storm laughed at the pure exuberance of her son.
    “This is more important than a pie, Mama,” Chad said as he cast frantic glances toward the people gathered beside one of the four tall oil rigs rising like dark specters above the golden fields of ripening wheat.
    “Let me take the pie out of the oven firstand I’ll join you in a few minutes,” Storm said. “Where’s your sister?”
    “Tim took her down to Number One when Papa told us the drillers expected the well to come in at any time. She’s riding Tim’s shoulders and I hope he keeps the little pest from getting in the way.”
    “Chad,” Storm chided gently. “Is that any way to talk about your little sister?” Four-year-old Abby, a small, inky-haired, dimpled darling, was the apple of her father’s eye and quite spoiled. Even sixteen-year-old Tim seemed to dote on her, for he carried her around on his broad shoulders whenever he wasn’t assisting Grady on the farm.
    “Well, Abby is a pest,” Chad complained. “She follows me and Tim around like a little puppy.”
    “Nevertheless, I’ll not have you calling Abby a pest. Tim doesn’t seem to mind. You go along. I’ll be there directly, as soon as I remove the pie from the oven.”
    “Hurry, Mama, Papa wouldn’t want you to miss the gusher.” Spinning on his heel, he raced off across the fields.
    Storm paused a moment to watch Chad’s sturdy legs eat up the distance between the house and Number One before turning back into the house. Her first born was an inquisitive, eager lad whose blue eyes were a replica of his handsome father’s. He resembled Grady, in other ways, except for his hair, which was a deep russet. But while Grady and Tim couldnever deny their Indian heritage, Chad’s features gave little hint of his Sioux ancestry. Little Abby, on the other hand, held great promise of turning into a dark, sultry beauty, with shining black hair and dark snapping eyes, just like her grandfather, Swift Blade.
    Tim was the big brother of the family, so like Grady it was uncanny. At sixteen he was already a man, broad of shoulder, slim of waist, and as dear to her as her own children. In a few months he would leave for Peaceful Valley for an extended stay with his grandparents, Blade and Shannon. Since the ranch would one day belong to Tim, Blade had suggested that the boy spend time with them learning about ranching and horses. Both Storm and Grady would miss him, but not as much as Chad and Abby, who idolized their big brother.
    Turning to her task, Storm slid the pie from the oven and set it on the windowsill to cool. Then she removed her apron and hurried out to join the family. She glanced back toward the house once to make certain the pie was in no danger of falling and experienced a tremendous burst of pride. Grady had built her a wonderful house to take the place of the small cabin they had lived in until several years after Chad’s birth. Actually, she had been saddened to see the old cabin torn down, but the new house was everything she could have hoped for.
    Two stories tall, it boasted four bedrooms, an honest-to-goodness bathroom with plumbing, a dining room, a parlor, and a large, roomykitchen, with a separate pantry, where all the family took their meals. Grady even had a small study where he could escape when the children became too rowdy. A front porch running the entire length of the house and a back entry to hold boots and winter coats when weather was blustery completed the rambling wooden structure. Grady had built several new outbuildings and hoped to run more cattle when they could afford it. Of course, if the wells came in, they would no longer have to worry about the cash flow.
    There had been many lean years since the locusts had devoured their first crop, but undaunted, Grady had replanted and they had prospered. When oil was discovered in Texas, geologists turned their sights on Oklahoma. The very first