I hate to rag on the author's first book (she started it when she was sixteen)... but this wasn't all that wonderful. By a lot.
First is the premise: her younger siblings went behind her back and advertised for a husband, enlisting the help of neighborly Ms. Lettie (which itself is bad writing: in those days it would be Miss or Miz, but Ms. is a modern abbreviation). The heroine 'in a moment of weakness' signs the affidavit her family springs on her and tells the little boy who admitted to setting her up to 'take care of it'. And then she's irate about the handsome stranger who shows up at her place. No. I'm sorry, but no.
The reasoning for Nathan to reply to the ad... No. It didn't hold water, nor did his father wanting to skip over the firstborn and give him the farm. No.
Him finding her in the woods, starving after no food for three days and making her wait to eat until the next morning? No.
Finding a stray boy, stray puppy, and stray cat within a mere couple weeks of each other? No.
There was no chemistry between the H/h, the secondaries weren't well developed, the description was almost totally missing... No.
Marchand might do better with time and experience, as a writer, but... No.