Mistletoe Marriage

JULIA

“I am bewitched, Julia,” Garrett said. He'd just taken my hand and was leading me around the side of the small schoolteacher's house out of the view of any passerby.
He'd held my hand before, but with the cold, mine had always been covered by thick wool mittens so I had never felt his skin. I longed to feel the callouses that were visible.
Placing a hand on the wall beside my head, he leaned in close. Our breaths came out in puffs of white. His dark eyes pinned me in place and I couldn't help but lick my lips at what I could see in those depths. I saw the truth behind his words.
We'd met just before the school term began, after the harvest had been brought in. Since then, he'd come upon me here and there around town; the mercantile, church and even the fall dance. At first I considered it coincidence, but I learned from others that the man rarely came to town functions. Instead, he worked—perhaps a little too diligently—at the mine he owned.
I felt my cheeks heat, but in the darkness, I doubted he could see.
“Garrett,” I replied, not knowing what to say to such a bold statement.
He ran the knuckles of his free hand down my cheek. “I want to kiss you.”
My mouth fell open at the bold admission.
“Garrett,” I repeated.
“I love hearing you say my name. Soon enough, I will hear it uttered from your lips in an entirely different way.”
I frowned in confusion. “I...I don't understand.”
“Ah, precious. I will show you. I promise. But first we must be married. I am an honorable man and will wait to claim such a precious liberty.”
Ah, now I knew why he gave me the endearment. At first I’d thought it a little too...too something, but he saw me as something truly special and it warmed me more than any fire or mulled cider ever could.
“Married?” I whispered. Oh, the idea had such immense appeal.
“Married. Then I will take all the liberties we desire.”