The Christmas Bride - A Western Romance Novella (Book 4, Burnett Brides Series) by Sylvia McDaniel Page B

danger to her. Even now, watching him, her body tensed, her breathing quickened, and she seemed to glow when he was around. His quick wit and mind left her wanting to spend more time with him. His kisses were mesmerizing and left her craving things she’d long forgotten.
    “He’s certainly a good-looking man,” Rose said as they stood there watching him cut the tree.
    And then that practical voice, the one that reminded Eugenia of how different her life was now and how much she enjoyed being in control of her own destiny, reminded her of her life today. With no one there to tell her how to live each day, with no one demanding her time, with no one limiting what she did.
    “Yes, he’s not bad looking,” Eugenia said, wondering how those muscles would feel beneath her hands. Would his back be strong and taut, his muscles toned? Her stomach tightened at the thought of him naked.
    With a shake of her head, she put her hand to her mouth. What was wrong with her to be thinking thoughts like that of Wyatt?
    “Some lucky lady is going to make him a fine wife,” Rose said softly.
    Sure, Eugenia missed the companionship of marriage, but there were so many times Thomas had commanded she do things his way.
    “There she goes,” Wyatt called to the crowd as the big cedar fell to the ground.
    Eugenia’s gaze found Wyatt staring at her, his eyes filled with questions. She’d shocked him with her announcement of how she felt about marriage. She’d known it and frankly thought maybe her confession would scare him away.
    “There are a lot of good things to consider about the man when you look at Wyatt,” Rose commented to Eugenia, her ploy obvious, but Eugenia was entranced staring at Wyatt.
    “Yes,” Eugenia said, only half listening to Rose.
    His eyes gleamed, and as he stood there breathing hard, leaning on the ax handle, somehow Eugenia knew without a doubt that she’d only intrigued him with her confession.
    Wyatt strode over to help the men lift the tree and gently lay it in the back of the wagon. He stepped behind the group of men and watched as they tied the tree down for the return trip to town.
    His gaze met hers across the space, his eyes warm, the look sending a trail of heat down her spine as she returned his stare, feeling so confused as to what she wanted.
    “He certainly watches you,” Rose said, glancing back and forth between the two of them.
    “Uh-huh,” Eugenia replied, refusing to say more.
    “I heard he stood by his wife right up until the day she died,” Rose said, holding Desirée’s hand as the little one tried to toddle off.
    “Yes, he did. Beatrice was a friend of mine. Thomas and I had dinner at their house several times.” Eugenia still scrutinized Wyatt as he helped the men pack away the tools.
    Rose gazed at Eugenia. “He’s a good man.”
    “You’re right. He is a good man,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. She needed to get away. She needed to quit watching this man. “And you’re being way too obvious. I need to unpack our food.”
    Eugenia walked away, not wanting to talk any longer about Wyatt. Needing to escape the ring linking her to Wyatt growing tighter and tighter.
    A few minutes later, dinner was served buffet-style from the back of one of the wagons. Everyone had contributed something, with several serving fried chicken, sliced ham, and potato salad in addition to all the pies anyone could ever dream of in one location.
    Women spread blankets on the ground for their families to sit on while the children scampered around in the chilly December air.
    A picnic in December was rare, but the Texas sun blazed down on them, giving them a wonderful, toasty day. Not unheard of for December, but still a rarity.
    Wyatt walked towards Eugenia carrying two plates of food. “Have you eaten yet?”
    “No,” she said, and her heart warmed at the sight of him and at his thoughtfulness. She’d been watching her grandson kick a ball with some of the other children and had yet