A Promise of Thunder

unbearable. How could she leave him without so much as a good-bye? He wondered for the thousandth time during the past weeks. Missing Storm proved to be an agony surpassed only by the death of Summer Sky. And even that sad event had dimmed in his memory when Storm had filled the void left by the death of his young wife.
    “Thunder, do you hear me? Why must youwork so long and so hard?”
    Grady expelled an exasperated breath. Work was his salvation and his solace. From the moment he had returned home after being wounded by Bull he had plunged recklessly into work, disregarding the pain caused by his healing injury and the distinct probability that he could do himself more harm than good by pursuing so active a life after being recently hurt.
    The thought that he had allowed himself to become careless still stung. It never would have happened if he hadn’t been thinking of Storm’s threat to leave him if he dueled with Bull. And not having used his skill with a gun in several months had no doubt contributed to his lack of speed. Of course, learning that his bullet had struck and killed Bull almost instantly had helped relieve his feelings of inadequacy, but did little to ease his anguish over Storm’s leaving.
    “Thunder, please.”
    “I’m coming,” Grady grumbled once he realized Laughing Brook wasn’t going to give him a moment’s peace until he returned to the house.
    It was becoming much too dark to work anyway. In the weeks since Storm had left he had plunged deeply into backbreaking work. He had built a stable to shelter the horses and store the wagon and was now hard at work on a barn. Not only was hard physical labor good for the soul, but it helped keep haunting memories of Storm at bay.
    Grady paused at the back door to wash up in the bucket of water placed there for his convenience before entering the cabin. A small whirlwind hurtled into Grady’s arms and he hugged his son tightly.
    “Why do you work so hard, Papa?” the little boy asked. “Laughing Brook says you will sicken if you don’t rest more.”
    Grady shot Laughing Brook a quelling look. “Hard work never hurt anyone, son.”
    “It’s late. Laughing Brook and I have already eaten.
    “There is plenty left over for your father,” Laughing Brook was quick to add. “Sit, Thunder.”
    Grady bolted down his meal, neither tasting nor savoring the food set before him, though it was tasty enough. These days he ate to nourish his body, finding little enjoyment in the act. Tim sat beside him, chatting about his day while Laughing Brook hovered nearby, ready to cater to Grady’s every whim. The moment he was finished he rose abruptly and disappeared into his bedroom. He returned a few minutes later with soap and towel.
    “Put Tim to bed, Laughing Brook,” he said brusquely. “I’m going to the river to bathe.”
    Laughing Brook watched Grady leave, her eyes dark with intense longing. Nothing was turning out the way she’d planned. Weeks had slipped by since Storm walked out of Thunder’s life, yet he hadn’t turned to her in desire as she had hoped. She knew he was aware ofher wish to please him in every way, yet he had deliberately kept his distance. He was remote, untouchable and cold. Only to his son did he display the soft side of his nature, and then only fleetingly.
    Laughing Brook was at her wit’s end. She no longer knew if what she had done was right, for it had made Grady sink deeper into a world of bitterness and silence. If only she could get through to him, she thought desperately. If only she could convince him to accept her into his life. Grady needed the kind of comfort that could only be obtained from a warm, loving woman eager to ease his suffering.
    Intuitively Laughing Brook realized that she must take the initiative if she wanted Grady, and an arrested look came over her features. She had waited patiently for Grady to make the first move, but since he continued to ignore her she was forced to take matters into her own hands.
    Grady lingered as long as possible at the river. The night was exceptionally warm and the water refreshing after his hard day’s labor. His body was sore and stiff, a feeling he had grown accustomed to of late, as his muscles protested being worked without respite. But his muscles weren’t the only part of his body that ached. His loins ached with the memory of how wonderful it had felt to thrust himself deep inside Storm’s softness. He wanted to be inside her, filling her, moving