Black Hills Bride by Deb Kastner

Author:Deb Kastner [Kastner, Deb]
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary, General, Romance, Romance - Contemporary, Fiction, Non-Classifiable, Fiction - Religious, Christian, Religious - General, Christian - Romance, Religious
ISBN: 9780373870967
Publisher: Steeple Hill Books
Published: 2000-02-15T00:25:14.312000+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Erik groomed and fed Vic and placed him in his stall, fighting off his thoughts as he did his work. But he could only ignore his nagging mind for so long. He had to get away from this place before he shattered like a fist through glass.

He saddled a black mare named Jazz and headed for the hills, toward the stream that ran through the acreage. Maybe in the quiet of the mountains, he’d find his peace. And maybe, just maybe, answer the interminable question nagging him.

What was he going to do about Dixie?

He couldn’t let things go on the way they were, yet he hadn’t the slightest idea how to change circumstances so they would work out.

In truth, he didn’t really know what he wanted, only that he was miserable.

He was attracted to Dixie. Why hadn’t he seen that before, he wondered, finding a cool spot by the stream to tether his horse. The insight didn’t come easily or willingly. He’d give anything not to feel anything for the crazy, stubborn woman.

But he was too analytical to ignore the facts. And the facts pointed to one thing—he was falling head over snakeskin boots in love with Dixie Sullivan.

No matter how he swore off women, or how often the imp on his shoulder reminded him of the dangers loving a woman presented, it had happened. Despite his convictions, despite his resolve.

Was God in this somewhere?

The question badgered him persistently for the next half hour as he sat along the bank of the stream and tossed gravel into the water. A man couldn’t truly love Dixie without God playing into the picture somewhere.

Her faith could move mountains. God was the center of her life. How often had he seen her resting in the shade of a tree, reading her worn and tattered Bible?

She talked about God like He was some kind of personal friend or something, not this monstrous, omniscient entity a million miles away in heaven as Erik imagined Him to be.

He moved his hand to cover the pocket of his Western shirt, reaching for the reassurance of the small, rectangular object lodged between the fabric and his skin.

Dixie had presented him with the small New Testament and Psalms the first day he worked for her. He knew he hadn’t been singled out, that it hadn’t been a gift just for him, but then again, if it were, would he have accepted it?

Probably not. And probably Dixie would have known that.

As it was, she gave the same small, maroon leather Bible to each and every one of her staff. He kept his copy on him wherever he went, tucked away in his pocket, next to his heart.

He coughed as his throat tightened around his breath. He was going lame in the head. His brothers would tease him to no end about this suddenly sentimental, romantic tendency of his.

He’d never actually cracked the book and read it, though he knew Dixie hoped he would. She called the Bible God’s Word, and spoke of it as if it was truly a letter from God to man.

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