A Promise of Thunder

to survive hardships of all descriptions. What made the land attractive was the fact that it was free to those with grit and determination, those with hope and dreams, and those who had nothing to which to return.
    Grady’s luck held when he found a widow and her strapping seventeen-year-old son to stay at the homestead in his absence. Since he no longer needed to worry about Nat Turner causing trouble, Grady felt secure in leaving the farm in the Martins’ capable hands. They had been forced to sell their own homestead after the death of Mr. Martin and were hoping to buy a small business in town with the proceeds from the sale of their land. Grady bought train tickets to Cheyenne for the following week and returned home to tell Laughing Brook and Tim of his arrangements.
    Grady regretted being unable to take Storm to meet his parents. He knew instinctively that they would like and approve of Storm, but he had no idea where to find her. He had questioned the ticket agent at the train station, butthe man swore he hadn’t sold a ticket to her. And the owner of the livery had no idea where she had gone after she left the wagon in his care. Grady suspected she had gone back to her family in Missouri and had to forcibly stop himself from going after her. But he had too many responsibilities to go traipsing after a woman who didn’t care enough about him to stay long enough to learn if he had survived his bullet wound. Obviously Storm didn’t want him and he’d damn well better find a way to keep himself from wanting her. But it wasn’t going to be easy.
    For the third morning in a row Storm rushed from the tepee and spewed the meager contents of her stomach onto the ground a short distance from the village. When she returned Sweet Grass took her aside and offered her a drink of cool water.
    “What is wrong with me, Sweet Grass?” Storm asked worriedly. “Have I caught your illness?”
    Sweet Grass smiled shyly. After many days and nights of being tenderly cared for by Storm she had come to love Thunder’s wife as dearly as she did her own daughter. It was mainly through Storm’s efforts that she was recovering from her debilitating illness, and both she and Jumping Buffalo greatly appreciated Storm’s dedicated nursing.
    “Crooked Nose says my fever isn’t catching,” Sweet Grass said, putting Storm’s fears to rest.Have you had this sickness before?”
    “No, I’ve rarely been ill in the past,” Storm said after careful thought.
    Just then Crooked Nose entered the tepee, took one look at Storm’s pasty complexion, and smiled broadly. Then she started babbling to Sweet Grass in the Sioux language. Storm tried to understand, but they spoke too fast for her to decipher from the smattering of the language she had picked up in the weeks she had been living on the reservation.
    “What did she say?” Storm asked Sweet Grass. “Does Crooked Nose know what’s wrong with me?”
    As if in answer to Storm’s query, Crooked Nose nodded sagely.
    “Crooked Nose says your ailment is a natural and expected condition in young married women,” Sweet Grass said, stifling a giggle. Her mirth puzzled Storm. Since when was being ill a cause for levity?
    “Is it serious?”
    “It can be, but it runs its course in nine months.”
    “Nine months? Why that’s—oh no, it can’t be! I can’t be having a baby. Not now.”
    “Both Jumping Buffalo and I have noticed changes in you. Crooked Nose says it is so, and she is wise in such matters. Thunder will be pleased to add another child to his family.”
    Storm gnawed worriedly on her lower lip, aware that having Grady’s baby wouldn’t change the way he felt about her. He hadn’twanted her before she was going to have his child, and she definitely wouldn’t go back to him knowing he’d only want her for the sake of their baby. On the heels of that thought came another. Now that Sweet Grass was well and Storm’s usefulness ended, where would she go? Grady hadn’t cared enough about her to come for her and she was determined not to intrude where she was not wanted. On the other hand, there was her land and cattle to consider. She had much to think about during the next days, she concluded, for her own future and that of her unborn child was at stake.
    “Jumping Buffalo will escort you back home,” Sweet Grass declared. “I am well enough to manage on my own until he returns with our daughter. I do not know what is wrong between you and Thunder, but the child