On the twelfth day of Christmas Anita gave to me . . .

A sweet tidbit from the Captain’s Rose . . .

When another hour passed and he still had not seen her, Jayce started walking in the direction she had gone, wondering if he should be concerned for her well-being. He only walked five minutes before he saw her standing at the crest of a hill, her back to him, her skirts and tartan shawl blowing in the breeze. Even from the distance his heart quickened at the sight of her. She was so beautiful!
He made no effort to be quiet as he approached her, but she jumped at the sound of his voice. “Do you still want me to leave you alone?”
“No,” she said and actually looked glad to see him. “Forgive me . . . for walking away like that. I don’t know whether I was embarrassed, or . . . shocked; or both. But I just . . . needed some time.”
“I understand,” he said. “I really do. But I do wish you would talk to me, because . . . quite frankly I feel like I’ve thrown my heart at your feet and if you don’t want it there, I need to know. And there are some points that have come up between us that have left me . . . shall I say, confused?”