Grady picked up the reins and set the horses into motion before replying to Storm's angry outburst. "I don't intend to break my promise."

"How can you say that when you've just agreed to meet a gunslinger behind the saloon? I never should have returned to Oklahoma with you. It would have been best for all concerned if I had just disappeared from your life. I don't know if I can go through the terrible anguish of losing you."

"You're not going to lose me, sweetheart."

"You're not G.o.d, you don't know that."

"As soon as we get home I'll explain what I have in mind. You're too distraught now to think coherently."

Storm lapsed into sullen silence, wondering how many times she would go through this same kind of torture if she stayed with Grady. When they reached the homestead she jumped down from the seat without waiting for Grady to a.s.sist her and stomped into the house. She was waiting for him when he returned a short time later after unhitching the team and carrying their supplies inside.

"I'm ready to hear what you have to say now," she challenged hotly.

"Sit down, sweetheart," he said, taking her by the hand and leading her to the couch. "There isn't much time left before I have to return to town, but I'll try to explain what I intend to do. I'm definitely not going to draw against Darnell."

"But you agreed to meet him."

"I had to say something. If I didn't he probably would have forced the issue, and I would have had to kill him. I didn't want you witnessing anything like that. Not in your condition, anyway."

"But-I don't understand. Are you going to meet him and then refuse to draw against him? Or are you not going to show up at all?"

"I'm going to meet him all right, but I'm not going to wear my guns," Grady said quietly.

Storm gasped aloud. "You'd do that for me?"

"For us, and for our children."

"What if it makes no difference to him? What if he kills you anyway? Darnell doesn't strike me as a particularly fair man. He holds some kind of grudge against you."

"I'll just have to take my chances and trust in G.o.d. I'm counting on Darnell leaving town and spreading the word once he realizes I mean what I said about no longer being interested in violence."

"He called you a coward," Storm said softly. She knew Grady wasn't the sort to take the insult lightly.

"I've been called worse."

"I love you, Grady Stryker." She slid easily into his arms and he hugged her close. His head lowered and he kissed her fiercely. When he lifted her onto his lap she snuggled happily against him.

"I wish I had time to love you, sweetheart."

"We'll have the rest of our lives," Storm whispered against his lips. Her breath was warm and fragrant and so arousing Grady felt himself harden.

"Wife of my heart," he murmured thickly. "Did you know that's what those Lakota symbols engraved on your wedding band stand for? They say, 'Wife of My Heart.' I knew even then how special you were."

Storm's eyes grew round. "How could that be? You didn't even like me very well when we met."

"I've always loved you, sweetheart."

He cupped the back of her neck and brought her close so he could kiss her again and again, her lips, her cheeks, her chin, before unb.u.t.toning her dress and kissing the tops of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"I love your b.r.e.a.s.t.s," Grady said as he bared the ripe fruits and drew an engorged nipple into his mouth. "Oh, lady, I want to be inside you." A little moan escaped Storm's lips.

His hand slid under her dress, into the slit in the crotch of her pantaloons, finding that tender, moist place that gave him so much pleasure. He ma.s.saged gently while Storm writhed and squirmed in his lap. When he slipped two fingers inside her she jerked wildly. "Grady," she gasped, "I thought you said there wasn't time for this!"

"There is just enough time for what I have in mind," Grady said hoa.r.s.ely. "Relax, sweetheart, I want to make you happy. When I return tonight you can return the favor." Then he was kissing her again, licking at the corners of her provocative mouth before thrusting his tongue between her lush lips. His fingers plunged deeper, stroking in and out as his thumb worked the sensitive nub of flesh where pleasure began.

"Oh, lady, you feel like silk inside," Grady panted as his talented fingers drove Storm higher and higher.

She arched against his hand, the sweet agony of his deep caress building inside her until she was rocking against him, clutching him desperately and calling his name. When he sucked her nipple into his mouth and nipped it gently with his teeth, then laved it with the wet roughness of his tongue, she exploded in exquisite climax.

"Keep that thought, sweetheart," Grady said as he lifted Storm and set her gently aside. "When I return tonight we'll continue where we left off." He rose, unbuckled his gunbelt, and set it on the table.

"Grady, be careful!" Storm called to his departing back. Dragging herself from her lethargy, she stood in the open door and watched him ride away.

Grady hadn't been gone five minutes before a numbing fear seized her. A shattering premonition that Grady was walking into certain death made the baby lurch inside her womb. A man like Darnell wouldn't think twice about shooting an unarmed man. Had she sent him off to be killed? That terrifying notion galvanized her into motion. Resolutely she picked up the shotgun sitting in the corner by the door and left the house. It took several precious minutes to hitch the horses to the wagon, but when she finally headed the team toward town she was a scant fifteen minutes behind Grady, who was riding Lightning and able to make better time than she.

Storm arrived in Guthrie at sundown. She halted the wagon in front of the saloon, set the brake, and climbed clumsily to the ground. She looked around fearfully, panting with anxiety. The absence of a crowd and the lack of commotion gave her a brief glimmer of hope. Perhaps she was worrying unnecessarily and everything was going as Grady hoped. Taking up the shotgun, she slipped into the alley between the saloon and the bank, the quickest route to the area behind the saloon where Grady and Darnell were to meet.

The sound of voices made her pause cautiously and listen before rushing out into the open. Barging recklessly into a potentially dangerous situation would do Grady little good. Despite her fear for Grady's safety, she still had her child to protect.

"I'll say one thing fer ya, Renegade, ya got more guts than I gave ya credit fer," Storm heard Darnell say. "Showin' up without yer guns took guts, but it ain't gonna work. I owe ya and ya ain't gonna leave here alive."

"You'll have to shoot me in cold blood," Grady said with amazing calm.

"I've done that before. Besides, ya ain't stupid. Ya wouldn't come here unarmed. Ya got a gun on ya somewhere."

"I told you before, Darnell, I'm through with violence. I won't draw against you. I have nothing to prove, no reputation to uphold. Besides, it's against the law."

"I've broken the law before," Darnell sneered. He gripped the handle of his gun, slowly withdrawing it from his holster. "Say yer prayers, Renegade."

"Listen to me, Darnell," Grady said earnestly. His voice was calm, but inside he was cursing himself for being dumb enough to think Darnell would go on his merry way when he refused to draw against him. "Shooting an unarmed man will gain you nothing but a pack of trouble. I could have just stayed home and refused to show up, but I wanted to show you and your friends that defending my t.i.tle as a fast gun and engaging in violence no longer interests me. I'm through with all that. What I hoped you'd do is spread the word that the man known as Renegade no longer exists. He's a peaceful farmer now, with a family to support."

Darnell hesitated for a brief moment while he mulled over Grady's words. Then his features hardened and the gun in his hand steadied and took aim. Still hidden in the crevice of the alleyway, Storm drew in a ragged breath. She loved Grady too much to see him gunned down by a man with no scruples and even less conscience. She could see Darnell's finger slowly squeeze upon the trigger, and in that instant she reacted out of pure instinct and an all-consuming love that knew no right or wrong. After all, it was her fault Grady had gone out unarmed to face a desperate man like Darnell. If she hadn't pried that stupid promise from him, he wouldn't be facing certain death now.

Resolutely, the shotgun came up to her shoulder and she took careful aim, fearing that if she merely shouted a warning Darnell would still have time to squeeze off a shot. Though the light was fading, she saw clearly enough to fix her target and jerk on the trigger. The shot reverberated in her ears, deafening her to Darnell's shot, which was loosed almost at the same instant. Grady lurched sideways in time to avoid all but a grazing wound as the bullet took a good-sized notch out of his ear. Darnell hadn't been so lucky. Storm's aim was true and straight, peppering his b.u.t.tocks with buckshot.

Howling like a banshee, the gun flew out of Darnell's hand and he danced from foot to foot like a cat on a flame. Holding his bleeding ear, Grady's stared in shock as Storm stepped from the shadows of the alleyway and ran toward him.

"Where are you hurt?" she cried, fearing she'd been too late to save Grady from grave injury.

"It's not serious," Grady said, finally finding his tongue. "What in the h.e.l.l are you doing here? Don't you ever do anything I say?"

"Not if I can help it," Storm replied saucily. Pulling his hand away from his ear, she saw that it was indeed a minor injury. Other than losing a fair chunk of his earlobe, he seemed to be unhurt. Tearing a strip from her petticoat, she pressed it to his ear.

From the corner of his eye Grady saw Darnell reach for his gun, which he had thrown to the ground when Storm's buckshot struck him. Reaching out a booted foot, Grady placed it over Darnell's hand and ground it into the dirt. Then he calmly picked up Darnell's gun and shoved it into his belt.

Darnell yelped in pain. "b.a.s.t.a.r.d! Go ahead and kill me."

"I'm not going to kill anyone, Darnell. Maybe now you'll realize that I meant what I said. I'm going to let you go. But in doing so I'll expect you to spread the word that the Renegade has laid down his guns for good. Now get the h.e.l.l out of here before I change my mind."

"How in the h.e.l.l am I supposed to sit my horse with my a.s.s full of buckshot?" Darnell complained.

"I don't care how you do it, just do it. If you don't, I'll turn my wife on you again."

The insult wasn't lost on Darnell as he shot Storm a fulminating look. Then he turned and limped away, trailing blood behind him. Grady waited until he was out of sight before grasping Storm's shoulders and giving her a little shake. "Dammit, Storm, what were you thinking? Coming here like this was a foolish thing to do. You're carrying my child, for G.o.d's sake!"

"I'm aware of that," Storm said with amazing calm. "That's why I came. I suddenly realized that the father of my child could be killed. Meeting Darnell unarmed was a stupid idea. It struck me that Darnell isn't the kind of man who'd care whether or not you were armed. All I could think of was stopping him from killing you."

Grady placed an arm around her shoulders and led her toward the street. "What happened to the woman who abhors violence? I did it for you, you know. If I showed up unarmed, I sincerely thought I could talk Darnell into leaving peacefully."

"I was wrong, Grady, so d.a.m.n wrong. You can't help it if violence comes looking for you."

"I don't think it will any more, sweetheart. I feel certain Darnell will spread the word and I'll be left in peace. Let's go home. If I remember correctly we have some unfinished business there."

"That's what I love about you, Grady. You are most diligent about taking care of unfinished business," Storm said, her eyes twinkling.

"When the unfinished business involves you, lady, 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 first and 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 a.s.sisting 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 st.u.r.dy 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 could never 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 ap.r.o.n 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, roomy kitchen, 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 bl.u.s.tery 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 well came in in 1905, and when Grady was approached by geologists from a large drilling company asking permission to dig exploratory wells on their property, he gave reluctant consent. Results had been so promising, three more wells had been dug. Now, it looked as if their patience was going to be rewarded.

"Storm, the drillers think it's only a matter of minutes before Number One comes in," Grady cried jubilantly as he spied her hurrying across the field. The entire family was a.s.sembled by the huge derrick in antic.i.p.ation of the big moment. "If they're right we'll be rich beyond our wildest dreams. The children can go to the best colleges and have all that money can buy." He held out his arms, and when she rushed into them he pulled her hard against the taut strength of his lean body.

Breathlessly Storm was drawn into the warmth of his embrace, savoring the closeness she shared with the man who had become the great love of her life. Never would she cease to need this special man, to feel his arms around her, making her feel loved and cherished. In the years since he had retired his guns and promised to avoid violence, he had never given her cause to doubt him.

"The children don't need money to be happy," Storm said, hugging Grady fiercely. "You have instilled courage in them, given them love, and taught them respect."

Grady's eyes were suspiciously moist as he gazed down at her. "And you, wife of my heart, have made our lives special."

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than an ominous rumble emanated from deep in the bowels of the earth, shaking the ground beneath them.

"Here she comes! Get back everyone, it's going to be a gusher!" one of the drillers cried. Men began scattering in all directions as the rumble grew louder. Grady grasped Storm's hand and pulled her back, shouting for the children to stand clear.

With a mighty roar the top of the derrick seemed to explode as a thunderous spray of dark liquid spewed upward. Storm felt the heavy drops pepper her skin and clothing and looked down, expecting to see thick black sludge. Instead, she saw what looked like muddy water.

"Grady, what is it? It looks like dirty water."

"Be patient, sweetheart," Grady cautioned as he kept his eyes glued to the erupting well. Suddenly, he gave a mighty whoop, picked up Storm, and swung her around and around, laughing uproariously. "Look, Storm, look up!"

Storm's eyes shot upward, and her face was immediately covered with a thick, inky film. She glanced at Grady, and saw that his face was so grimy with black sludge that all she could see were his white teeth and the whites of his eyes. A resounding cheer went up as a tremendous pressure from inside the well shot a stream of oil high into the clear Oklahoma sky, as thick and black as the darkest midnight.

About the Author.