Black Hills Bride by Deb Kastner Page A

to Dixie the big grizzly named Ed McDonnell was a teddy bear inside, and the month that followed only served to further justify Erik’s choice in a foreman. Not only that, but Ed had a faith to rock mountains, and praised the name of Jesus loud and clear every chance he got.
    She liked him. She really did.
    And, she had to admit, if only to herself, he was an excellent foreman. Under Erik’s direction, he’d hand-picked a friendly, hardworking crew of five, all Christians, who’d cleared the messy building area within the first week and had laid the foundation for the new buildings within a month.
    She was impressed. Thank the Lord. God was obviously providing for her despite her many setbacks.
    Sometimes she wondered if she was deluding herself. But not now.
    The carpenters worked not only swiftly, but cheerfully, as well. Each of them had a smile and a pleasant greeting for her when she was around, sweeping off their variety of cowboy hats and calling her Miz Sullivan, to her delight.
    Men in Denver had never treated her so well, not with half the respect or graciousness these rough-around-the-edges country gentlemen showed. And carpenters in Denver did not wear cowboy hats.
    Over the course of the first couple of weeks, she’d shed her designer jeans for a pair of Wrangler jeans and tied her hair back in a ponytail. She could almost pass as one of the carpenters, as much dust and mud clung to her by the end of each day.
    The most laughable part of it was the pair of boots Erik bought her. She’d been mortified to wear them at first, as unfashionable as they were. But once they were broken in, she couldn’t imagine wearing anything else. They molded perfectly to her feet like a second skin. Why hadn’t anyone ever told her how comfortable a pair of cowboy boots could be?
    Maybe she should announce it to the world and start a new fashion trend. It would be the first time in a long time fashion was actually comfortable. She laughed at the thought. She’d changed so much in such a short time, and she didn’t regret any of it.
    After that first night, sleeping out in a tent didn’t bother her as much, especially after Erik fixed the tent so it wasn’t liable to fall over should a faint breeze occur some evening.
    It had taken a while, but she found she enjoyed living out of a tent, staying outside late, lying out in the dark with so many, many stars twinkling down on her, far more than she’d seen in Colorado with the city lights of Denver blotting them out.
    She had her food supply in tough plastic containers—and she now knew not to eat in or near her tent lest animals catch wind of it and think she was dinner—and the faithful Border collie who appeared as if by magic every night. She didn’t know where the dog came from or where she went afterward, but every night like clockwork, the Border collie returned to guard over her.
    She’d managed to cope.
    No. Much more than cope. Live.
    She was thriving, healthy and flourishing on the inside and out, more than she could ever have imagined or hoped for.
    She put her management skills to work, as well. The first day the carpentry crew arrived, she’d set out to work right beside them. She wasn’t going to be the type of manager who ruled the roost without getting her feathers dirty.
    She wanted more than just a working crew. She wanted to create a family atmosphere, and most of all, a peaceful, Christian atmosphere.
    And she could only do that by giving it everything she had. She helped out whenever possible, though much of the work was beyond her ability and expertise.
    She hauled wood and water, held up poles and learned to sand wood, and cooked and served the men their evening meal.
    Okay, so cooking over an open fire wasn’t exactly her forte, along with so many other skills she was only now beginning to discover. Flames were tricky things, and she’d burned the fare more than once, though no one had complained.
    Erik had laughingly mentioned bringing in a