A Promise of Thunder

her.”
    “But he didn’t, Tim. Shouldn’t you accept the fact that your father did what is best for him? If he wanted Laughing Brook, he would have married her. Have you forgotten that your father has more white blood in him than Indian blood?” How does one communicate with a stubborn six-year-old? Storm wondered desperately. Her heart went out to the small boy, and she would have given anything to have him love her.
    Tim appeared to be mulling over Storm’s words, unable to equate what Laughing Brook had told him with Storm’s plea for friendship. Storm had also raised an issue Tim hadn’t considered before. His own father, though he looked and acted like a fierce Lakota warrior, was more white than Indian. Deep in his heart Tim wanted to like Storm, yet the thought of losing Laughing Brook was too much for the little fellow.
    Screwing his face up tightly, he bellowed, “Papa is a Lakota warrior. He doesn’t like White Eyes. You
are
a witch, otherwise he wouldn’t have married you.”
    “Tim!” Grady decided it was time to make his presence known. “You will apologize to your stepmother.”
    Tim’s face grew mottled as he turned and flung a challenging question at Grady. “Why did you marry her, Papa?”
    For the first time in his life Grady was at a loss for words. Many reasons came into his mind as he searched Storm’s lovely face,foremost of which was the fact that she had touched his heart in a way that no other woman had, not even Summer Sky. He and Summer Sky had been children when they had married, but now he was a man. A man who needed a strong woman with the same values and matching passion. Summer Sky would have been an obedient, loving mate had she lived, but her sweet, giving nature would have made her incapable of being the kind of woman Grady needed now. She was perfect for the naive boy of eighteen he once was. What he needed now was a woman with the strength necessary to endure both good times and bad, a woman he could … Love …

Chapter Twelve
     
    Storm hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until her lungs began to ache and her heart to pound. She had no idea how Grady would answer his son’s question, for she knew their marriage was merely one of convenience. She needed a home and he needed a mother for his son. The raging passion that existed between them was something Storm hadn’t counted on.
    Grady remained silent so long Storm felt like turning and fleeing from the hot glare of Tim’s accusing dark eyes. Obviously Grady couldn’t come up with a plausible explanation for their marriage, one that would satisfy his son, and it hurt. Then he said something so outrageous, so utterly untruthful that Storm wanted to scream out that he lied.
    “I married Storm because I wanted to.”
    Storm felt singed by the heat and hunger of Grady’s gaze, but she resisted looking up into his eyes, fearing the mockery she’d find in their cobalt depths. She knew he wanted her—no one could mistake that devouring look—but since Laughing Brook’s arrival Grady had no need for his wife. True, she hadn’t been aware of Laughing Brook sharing Grady’s pallet since that time she awoke and heard them making love, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t found other times to be intimate.
    “Why can’t Laughing Brook be your second wife?” Tim wanted to know. “Flies-Like-A-Hawk has three wives.”
    “White law allows for only one wife,” Grady explained. Though he spoke to his son his eyes never left Storm’s face. “And besides, I don’t want a second wife, or a third. I’m perfectly satisfied with one wife. I have learned much since I rode with renegades and left the reservation,” he continued, dropping to his knees before his small son. “The time when Indians walked the earth as free men, proud of their heritage and secure in their future, is long past.”
    “But I am an Indian, Papa, and so was Mama. How can I forget what I am?”
    “You must never forget your proud heritage, son,” Grady said passionately. “We both come from noble stock, and our dark skins will never allow us to forget who or what we are. Nor should we. But I want a better life for you than the reservation offers. My father,your grandfather, served the President of the United States and fought for the freedom of all people regardless of race and color. Don’t ever forget that. I feel strongly that our future, yours and mine, lies here in Oklahoma, on our own land.”
    “But you always hated