The breeze was cool when Jasper allowed the horses to trot. He was glad to have the blankets. This was November, and there were few warm days left. He wondered if Trisha had a warm coat, but then he realized that would be an insult to Aisley's ability to take care of his family. The big man worked hard to supply what they needed. All the new dresses from Gabby weren't taken as an insult by him. He saw it as a new friend who shared, and that was a correct statement.

With a father who was one of the wealthiest men in the country, she never thought in such terms of pity. She just gave for the fun of it. Edward was equally affluent but never held it over anyone.

Jasper wasn't that rich yet, but he never worried about money any longer. Trisha would learn that wealth didn't necessarily warp a person. It took discipline. There was nothing he would change about her. She loved the new dresses that Gabby sent, and he doubted that would change. Most were designed by her mother, Lynette. Those dresses would always be welcome.

He pulled the chaise up to her house and hooked the reins. The moment he stepped down, the screen door slammed, and he saw Trisha hurrying out to meet him. She wore a pretty pink dress with a ruffle around her shoulders and wide, layers on the skirt trimmed with eyelet lace. He knew what it was because he had been taught such terms by his mother.

His father had always made sure she had pretty dresses. It was the one thing that pleased Jasper too. His mother's happiness was important to him.

Trisha ran up to him, and he caught her whirling her around in a circle while she tilted her head back and laughed. For their outing, she left her hair down to flow behind her back in ringlets. "You look beautiful, my dear. Is that a new dress?"

"It was a gift from Gabby. She gave me the pink gown I wore at the wedding and said I looked pretty in that color, so she gave me all of hers." She giggled, saying, "Gabby hates pink."

"I believe you mentioned that before. But she is correct. The color is lovely with your glorious hair." He took her hand, and they walked back to the house. "You will need a warm coat. The air is cool with the movement of the buggy. I have a blanket for your lap, but I'm afraid the green plaid will hide that pretty dress."

"I have a warm coat, but I thank you for being concerned. Mother and I filled a basket with food for our picnic. I am so excited to spend the day with you."

He couldn't be around her without wanting her in his arms. Each time she shared such desire to be with him, he wanted to whisk her away and keep her. It was getting harder not to do so. This new experience helped him understand Dillon's behavior with Pru, and why their courtship hadn't existed. They hadn't waited. Pru had been just as eager.

"Did you pack us a basket or food, or did your mother?" he asked, grinning at her.

She giggled with delight. "No, I helped, but it will be a surprise. Father said that you are to keep me safe. I have not failed to notice the sword. Do you expect trouble in the countryside?"

"No, I have yet to see any strangers approach the land. But I will make sure that you are safe. I will always do all I can to do so." He pulled the door open to the house, and she stepped inside, leaving him to follow.

Martha came around the corner with the basket. "We may have packed too much for the day, but it will not spoil. If you return in time for supper, Aisley said he would enjoy having you join us."

After telling Aisley that he planned to admit his love for Trisha, he knew the reason for the invitation. He wished to see the look on his daughter's face.

Martha handed him the basket. "Best you two hurry along, or the day will be too short. Get your coat, Trish, and your wrap as well. You may need the shawl for the afternoon. It is a fine day for such an outing."

Trisha hurried to her room and came back with her brown wool coat. He set the basket down, took the garment from her, and helped her to slip it on. It surprised her when he turned her around to help her with the buttons.

"Do you have a hat to keep your ears warm?"

Trisha's eyes lit up with humor. She leaned close to his face and whispered, "Your affection for me is showing, Jasper. I like it." She pulled a knitted stocking cap from the pocket and crammed it over her head to make him laugh.

He shook his head and ripped it off. "Until you're cold, put it back in your pocket. I prefer to look at your hair." He picked up the basket and took her hand. With a nod to Martha, he led her back outside to the carriage. He stopped in back and untied the straps to the boot. He placed her basket beside the one he brought.

Trish took his arm and leaned against him. "Were you afraid of starving?"

"You have not met my cook. Mulder likes to please. He prepared what he thought would be a romantic gesture this afternoon. I must admit, I am not experienced with wooing a lady, nor have I ever courted one. I hope you will be my first, as well as my last, for obvious reasons. I believe I have found the girl of my heart."

She stood staring at him for a long moment. "You sound romantic to me, Jasper. You must tell me things like that all the time. I shall never grow tired of hearing you admit your feelings for me."

"I am relieved to hear that from you. I want you to know how deep my feelings are for you. If you want to hear something from me, ask. If you wish to do something, ask. I will do whatever is possible to make sure you are happy, Trisha." He almost admitted his love for her right then but wanted that special moment.

"I will remind you of that if you hesitate to tell me what I wish to know. It will be hard to share feelings when life has taken so much, but we shall work on it. You just have to learn you can trust me with them. We'll start with easy things. Will you tell me why you have a bow and arrows in there?

"It is an activity that I believe you will enjoy." He tied the cover to the boot and then offered his arm.

"I will not put an apple on my head, Jasper," she said, taking his arm.

He burst out laughing. "You always tend to say the most unexpected things. It's one of the reasons I adore you." His statement was natural, flowing, and he hadn't planned it. But she stopped walking. "What?"

"I believe this is called: sweeping me off my feet. Mother said that Papa stole her heart by the way he wooed her. You are stealing my heart, Jasper."

"Good. If I've got it, I've got you." He swept her off her feet and into his arms. "This is, exactly, where I want you." He stepped to the carriage and lifted her inside. "It wouldn't be a hardship for me if your feet never touched the ground again." He winked and walked back around to climb into the chaise.

"I see that you brought Prince. It was rude of me not to greet him."

"You will have plenty of time, my sweet." He popped the reins, and Prince began trotting along. "If you get cold, wear the stocking and use the blankets."

"I believe I am warm from the inside out. Your declarations have done this to me. Are you good with a bow?"

"I do well enough to hit a target. But I have never hunted with one. Hunting is not common for a boy living in the slums of London. However, Edward has told me to practice because he plans for the men to hunt for our Christmas meal. There are wild turkeys on his acreage. He claims one can break a tooth on pellets from a gun. It is a challenge.

"I practice when I have the opportunity to come to this property. I nailed a target on a tree, but 'tis not the same as a live animal."

She turned to face him and tucked her ankle under her leg. "I caught rabbits in a trap once. It kept eating from our garden, and Papa showed me how to set it. Then, Mama showed me how to skin it. She said that fresh, wild rabbit was tough. So, she made a stew that simmered all day and all night. I'm not fond of plucking chickens. Mama is fast at it because she's had so much practice. Her hands fly and so do the feathers," she said with a giggle.

He saw the flour covering everything, so he had no trouble picturing feathers. The image had him laughing too. "My mother never baked a turkey. I went hunting one year with some friends, and we bagged a hog. I learned to skin it too. Then, we split it among us. My mother taught me to smoke it on a spit. We had pork for a month, but that Christmas ham was a treat. She bought cloves and sugar for it."

"That was before you began fighting, wasn't it?"

He laughed at her assumption. "No, but I wasn't earning the money then as I do now. What I made eased the lean months."

"Did you fish?"

"Not back then. My mother wouldn't eat anything that came out of the Thames River. It was too nasty," he said with a deep, rumbling chuckle.

"Papa shot quail with my brothers last year. It was delicious, but it took Mama and me hours to pluck them. Thankfully, we sat outside to do it and collected the feathers in a bag. She's been collecting them for a mattress. Since, Papa enjoys the hunt, he agreed to go again. Perhaps we can bring him to join us sometime. Not soon, of course. I am selfish enough to want this time alone with you."

He glanced at her and smiled. "Good, because I have no intention of sharing my time with you until after..." He realized he almost said until after they wed.

"After what?"

"After we have more time together. The land I'm taking you to is special. I'll explain more after we arrive."

They continue to chat about different topics until they came to the land. He pulled onto a rough road that was only wagon tracks. He hired the grass cut this past week, and it was perfect for today. He followed the long trail until they came close to the pond and stopped.

"This is it."

"Jasper, this land belongs to someone. It is not wilderness. Should we find another spot for our picnic?"

"Trisha, this place belongs to me. I see it as my escape from the city." He hooked the reins, set the brake, and climbed down. He used the same rock he always did to set in front of the wheel. He didn't chance the possibility a brake would fail. The land wasn't even.

He stepped around to help Trisha alight. He held his arms up. She balanced on his shoulders, and he took her by the waist to lift her out. When her feet touched, she went to her toes and kissed him. "This is the perfect spot for our picnic. Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise. Few know that I have this place. Daniel and Dillon know, and now you." Jasper was pleased Trisha continued to hold onto him. She had her arms wrapped around his waist and her head against his chest.

It had been five years since his mother died, and that had been the last time anyone had held him like this. He knew beyond any doubt that he needed her in his life.

This chapter is a two-part chapter (in my mind). I find the vulnerability in such a big strong man, such as Jasper, scrumptious. Too many men are closed off. Every man needs a woman who can reach that tender side, accept it, and make it special. If that woman blabs, well, the walls will be rebuilt without trust.

Trisha understands Jasper. That is a foundation made of stone. Hard to tip that strength over. Men are sexual beings, but they are also dependent on trust. Break it and it's difficult to recover. The softer side of women are great for a man like this.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please Vote and give me your thoughts. We have now entered into the heart of this couple. Thank you for reading my story.