A Promise of Thunder

little witch? Her husband had been buried but one day before and she should be home mourning him instead of trying to compete with men twice her size. He compared her to gentle, submissive Summer Sky and found her lacking. Storm Kennedy was too forward, too brash for Grady’s liking, too independent and reckless. Her stubbornness appalled him.
    The crack of the carbine scattered his thoughts. Reacting instinctively, he dug his heels into Lightning’s flanks. The sturdy pony lived up to his name as he sprinted into the lead. Behind him horses were bucking and pitching, throwing one of the riders almost immediately, before the line had fairly been broken. But the unfortunate man was equal to the occasion, and immediately stuck his stake into the ground, staking his claim to a quarter section of the finest farming land in the strip.
    Behind Grady the ground shook with the reverberation of hooves and heavier equipmentas buggies and wagons thundered over the hundred-mile-wide racetrack. Along the Santa Fe tracks trains kept pace, crammed with humans as never before. The platforms and roofs were black with homesteaders, and so many hung out of the window they were in danger of spilling out.
    Storm cracked her whip above the team’s head, appalled when she saw wagon after wagon overturning, strewing disappointed settlers across the prairie. Sheer grit and fierce determination kept her hands steady on the reins despite the fact that her arms felt as if they were being pulled out of their sockets. She had no idea which land would be best to claim, but decided that any land along the Santa Fe would be considered desirable. But each time she found a likely looking spot she was disappointed to find others ahead of her, already hammering in their stakes and setting up makeshift tents until more permanent dwellings could be raised.
    Unwilling to accept defeat, Storm left the tracks, turning slightly north toward the river, where she knew from gossip that prime tracts existed. She had no interest in town sites, only in farmland. That was a decision she and Buddy had made before they started the trip to Oklahoma.
    Swirling, choking dust rose up to sting her eyes and clog her throat, but Storm gritted her teeth and held on for dear life as the wagon bounced and bumped over terrain so rough thewagon was in danger of breaking up. After ten grueling miles she spotted the river up ahead. She noted the thick, lush grasslands surrounding it, the stand of trees lining the bank, and immediately fell in love with the spot. It was everything she and Buddy had hoped for, and it looked as if no one had arrived before her. But as she drew closer she saw that she was wrong, and groaned in despair. Already a makeshift tent had been set in place, and rope and stakes marked the boundaries.
    Reining in the team, Storm stared in disbelief at the man who was bending over one of the stakes. Grady Stryker! Would he always be around to make her life miserable?
    Grady raised his eyes to study the newcomer, struck dumb when he realized it was Storm. He had expected her to give up long before now, yet he couldn’t help but admire her fortitude and endurance. Evidently she was stronger than he gave her credit for.
    “I should have known you’d get here ahead of me,” Storm bit out furiously.
    “And I should have known you’d ignore my advice and not give up this foolishness,” Grady replied. “If you had your eye on this particular spot, then you’re too late. I’ve already staked my claim. And in case you’re interested, all available land bordering the river has already been claimed.”
    Gazing past Grady, Storm took careful note of the stakes already in the ground. If her eyes weren’t deceiving her, there were two sets ofstakes. “Looks like someone got here before you. Is that your tent?”
    “No, but I’m not worried. Only a ‘Sooner’ could have gotten here before me, and his claim doesn’t count. There are laws against those who jumped the gun. You’d be wise to return to town, Mrs. Kennedy. You don’t belong here.”
    Storm glared at him furiously. How dare the despicable half-breed tell her where she belonged or didn’t belong? She had as much right to this land as he did. Casting her gaze farther afield, Storm saw that no stakes were set out on the land adjacent to that which Grady had claimed. It was inferior to the grassy knoll bordering the river, but still offered good potential. And better yet, no one had arrived to