The New Year's Bride (Holiday Mail Order Brides Book Two) by Kit Morgan Page A

one would think a kiss by a handsome man would be welcomed by a young miss,  especially if said miss had a heart hankering after the handsome man to begin with.  But Elle Barstow was afraid of a kiss by such a man, especially this man! For she knew, knew that if he kissed her it could be her undoing.  Elle had never been kissed you see, and so this kiss by this man would surely brand her.
    And it did.
    He pulled away, his eyes dark with desire, and gently put her from him.  Without a word he turned to the door and left the house to leave her standing there in the cold foyer and stare after him.  She raised a hand to her lips and touched her mouth.  Her lips were warm from the kiss and still tingled from having his mouth on hers.
    Glorious.
    Wonderful.
    Incredible.
    What other words were there to describe what just happened?
    “I need some wood!” Mrs. Riley called from the kitchen.
    ‘Wood’ was not a word Elle could use to describe Spencer’s kiss, but without it, Mrs. Riley wouldn’t keep the fire in the cook stove going and Elle wouldn’t be able to build one in the parlor as Spencer asked.  She numbly looked to the front door and smiled.  Her future husband was out there.  She touched her lips again.
    My future husband, t he man I came out here to marry just kissed me …
    Elle’s smile deepened.
    “Land sakes, where is all my kindling?” Mrs. Riley asked as she came down the hall.  “Elle, are you all right?”
    Elle turned to her. “Yes. I’ll get you some wood,” she said without thinking and went straight for the front door.
    “Be careful dear, it’s frightfully cold out there.  Use the wheel barrow if you need to,” Mrs. Riley called after her as she headed out.
    Elle stepped onto the front porch and was immediately pulled out of her dream like state by the icy wind.  She wrapped her arms about herself and headed for the wood shed near the barn.  She knew everything she needed would be there.  She’d bring in a load of kindling first then go back for some bigger pieces.  The thought she would be saving Spencer some trouble fueled her efforts to fight the wind and cold that beat against her and slowed her steps. By the time she finally reached the wood shed she was once again shivering something awful.
    She got the wheelbarrow, maneuvered it over to the woodpile, and began to load it.  She put not only the kindling they would need into it but also a few good-sized pieces.  Straining, she then lifted and pushed the wheelbarrow back toward the house.
    “What are you doing out here?”  Spencer yelled at her over the wind. “You’ll catch your death!”
    Elle turned to him. “Your mother needed kindling.  I offered to come get some,” she managed to tell him without her teeth chattering all over the place.
    He gently moved her away from the wheelbarrow and took it the rest of the way to the house.  He dumped the contents next to the back porch.  “I’ll go get another load. You hurry and get that into the kitchen.”
    She smiled.  He was going to let her help.  S he bent to the wood and gathered what she could into her arms to take into the house.  There was a deep satisfaction in helping him, something she’d never felt before, and she liked it.
    She took the first load of kindling into the house, dumped it into a large bucket Mrs. Riley kept near the stove, then went back outside to get more.  Before she was done carrying all of it in, Spencer had returned with another wheelbarrow full.  Rather than dump it he loaded her arms with wood, got his own armful, and together they carried it into the house.  They repeated the entire process one last time before Spencer was satisfied they had enough wood to see them through the night and into the morning.  He then went back to the barn as Elle put the wheelbarrow in the woodshed.  Just as she was done, he came out and they returned to the house together.
    It was cold, the sky heavy with grey clouds.  The smell of snow was