Free Black Hills Bride by Deb Kastner

been working hard. Now Erik doubted he’d get a good day’s work from the boy.
    And he didn’t even want to think about Dixie and Ellis in a showdown. His insides stung as if a hive of killer bees had been let loose in his stomach.
    Ellis was just stupid enough to push Dixie beyond her limit. She was a strong woman, but Erik didn’t want to be there when she really exploded. Erik had a feeling a tornado would be safer to watch.
    A showdown between Dixie and Ellis wasn’t a possibility he cared to consider. But it wasn’t going to happen. Not if he was here to stop it.
    And he was.

Chapter Eight

    A fter what felt to Dixie like a lifetime, but was in reality only six weeks from the day she stepped onto South Dakota soil, acquiring a horse of her own was finally, wonderfully, joyfully next on her list.
    She’d been up to her ears in construction and renovation, overseeing a stable of horses for the ministry, hiring a kitchen and housekeeping staff, moving into her own small studio in the main lodge and avoiding the stable hands like the plague.
    She was physically and emotionally exhausted from the whole ordeal, as much from all the blessings God showered her with as much as from the challenges she continued to encounter.
    Erik suggested a day off, and she’d finally concurred. She hadn’t had a break since she’d started, other than the occasional peach-scented bubble bath in her new studio.
    So this sunshine-filled Saturday morning, she’d called some phone numbers in the newspaper and set up appointments to see if she could find her horse.
    She wasn’t a complete novice where horses were concerned, she thought with pride. That is to say, she’d ridden a horse a few times as a kid, and had been told even then that she was a natural horse-woman.
    And she’d read every How to Take Care of a Horse of Your Own book the Denver Public Library possessed, up to and including the children’s books.
    She was relatively certain she could groom, tack and mount her horse. It couldn’t possibly be any worse than the rivers she’d forged thus far in her pioneer journey.
    All she needed was the horse to prove it.
    Her heart raced with anticipation as she drove off the compound. She was especially looking forward to her first stop, a man named Needleson. He was her nearest neighbor with the exception of Erik. Needleson owned a large spread that bordered her own on two sides. From what she knew of him, his was one of, if not the most prosperous ranches in the area.
    It would be good to finally meet her neighbors. Solitude was wonderful, up to a point, but she looked forward to getting to know others in Custer, most especially those who lived near her retreat. She’d just been too busy lately to seek out fellowship, other than on Sundays in a small Custer church.
    Did John Needleson have a wife and kids? Would they be Christians?
    She hoped so. Maybe they could be friends, get together for a cookout and perhaps even have a Bible study. She could offer the services of her retreat, once it was up and running, if they wanted a break from ranching.
    She only realized how far distant her daydreams had taken her when she noted the large Bar N sign that indicated the entrance to the Needleson ranch. Laughing merrily at herself, she turned onto the Bar N road, noting it had the same bumpy washboard consistency as her own dirt road.
    John Needleson said he’d be waiting for her in front of his stable with the horse he had in mind for her. He’d almost sounded excited when he told her about the feisty brown-and-white Appaloosa gelding.
    She couldn’t help but allow his enthusiasm to raise her hopes. Wouldn’t it be lovely if the first horse she “shopped” for was the right one?
    She shook her head and chuckled. There she went again, daydreaming in a very real world, where daydreams could be dangerous.
    A fiftyish-looking man with white tufts of hair that stuck up in every direction on his head waited for her outside his very