About an hour before sunrise, Camellia grabs the basket she has put together and climbs into Marco’s saddle, and rides the short distance to Dan’s house, slowing the pace of the ride as she nears as not to attract attention or wake any sleeping, be it man or animal. She rides up close to the front porch and dismounts, then climbs the few steps to the front porch and inspects the basket she had brought along. Taking a cream colored card from her pocket, she places it in the front of the basket, inside which are several still-warm biscuits and a good-sized jar of homemade strawberry jam. Smiling, she is about to make sure the seal on the jar is tight when she thinks she hears movement inside, and quickly sets the basket down and leaps from the porch. Mounting Marco, Camellia smiles and the two trot off, the only sign of someone having been around at all the small imprints her boots and Marco’s hooves left in the damp grass, and the card nestled in the basket that reads:
“Tried making some strawberry jam—thought I’d make some biscuits too and give you a good breakfast.
Let me know what you think of it—and thanks for suggesting I make some. Love, Camellia”