Free Black Hills Bride by Deb Kastner Page A

large, very modern-looking stable. She didn’t notice another thing about him, except that he was holding on to the most beautiful horse she’d ever seen.
    She had looked at a million pictures of horses in books and on-line, but the one before her beat them all in looks and style.
    She quickly parked her truck and rushed to the horse’s side, not caring that her anticipation and delight were showing. John Needleson had been right on the mark for her in choosing a horse.
    Her heart pounded as she looked the gelding over. The Appaloosa tossed his head as if protesting the halter he wore, then whickered softly.
    He was spirited, she realized, which enchanted her almost as much as his wavy mane. Equally attractive was the gentle nature of his eyes as he nuzzled her hand, looking for a treat.
    “He’s a fine horse, ma’am,” said Mr. Needleson, speaking for the first time. “As soon as I spoke with you on the telephone, I just had a feeling this young fellow was the one you were looking for.”
    Startled, she remembered her manners. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Needleson. I’m Dixie Sullivan, your new neighbor.”
    The man smiled, but for some reason it didn’t appear to reach his eyes. He looked rough and hard, but she supposed career cowboys would look that way. Perhaps she was judging too harshly.
    “John will do, ma’am.”
    She reached out her hand, determination to make him her friend welling up in her. “And of course you’ll call me Dixie.”
    He mumbled something under his breath and nodded, directing his gaze to the horse.
    She didn’t need any prodding to turn her attention back to the horse. “I’m sure you noticed how charmed I am by your pony. He is everything I’ve ever dreamed of.”
    John chuckled. She snapped her gaze to his, but his eyes were shaded. Was he laughing at her?
    She felt heat rise to her face, knowing she was showing far more enthusiasm than she should, as the buyer. She wondered if buying horses was like buying cars, where only a fool paid the full price.
    But this horse, which she’d already mentally named Victory, was worth whatever price she paid. Besides, the price John named was reasonable. Cheap, even, if the ads she’d perused were anything to go by.
    “How many horses have you seen this morning, Miss Sullivan?” John drawled, running a rough hand through the chaotic tips of his hair.
    She noted he clung to formality. She hoped it didn’t mean he distrusted her, or wouldn’t be willing to sell Victory to her.
    “To be honest, Victory—I mean, your gelding—is the first horse I’ve looked at,” she admitted. “I suppose I ought to see the rest of the horses on my list before I make my final decision.”
    She already knew she’d choose Victory, no matter how many other horses she saw today or any day. She was decisive, and that’s how it went when she had her heart set on something.
    Still, she thought she probably ought to go through the motion of shopping around, at least, in case anyone asked her.
    “Nonsense,” John replied promptly. “You don’t buy a horse like you buy clothes or groceries or something.” He thumped his chest with his fist. “It’s a heart thing.”
    A heart thing.
    An odd idea to come from a tough cowboy like John. There must be more to the man than what appeared on the surface, she decided, her heart discerning a story underneath his words he wasn’t willing to share.
    In any case, John was right. It was a heart thing. She could feel it—she and Victory were meant to be together. Like peanut butter and jelly.
    She ran her hands over the horse, noticing once again how skittish he was around his head and legs. But John quickly explained that away, saying he was still young and not used to strangers. That was probably all there was to it. Surely nothing out of the ordinary.
    John walked the gelding around the corral a couple of times, allowing her to look him over. He had a nice, easy gait, pleasant to the eyes. He would be a joy to