Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended. I want to thank my betas, U2Shay and Adt216, for helping me through this process.

Just want to say thank you :) to whoever wrote last week's sparklingcitrus cannon couple review of The Long Way Home. The reviews and rec's are very much appreciated.


February 8th 1945

Alice stepped out into the unusually temperate February sunlight and peered out into the schoolyard. Loud, raucous shouts and cheers emanated from a pack of elementary school boys while squeals and hopscotch chants came in the direction of similarly aged girls. Alice noted the girls playing doubledutch and the boys running with pretend finger guns as cops and robbers. It all looked like well managed chaos, and a smirk appeared on her face at the sight. Fortunately for Alice, she hadn't been assigned schoolyard duty today; she was merely outside to soak up some much needed sun.

A hard gust blew sending a bout of shivers through Alice who pulled the lapel of her coat tighter around her shoulders in response. So much for the freakishly warm weather, she thought. She looked down and shivered only to notice one young girl at the bottom of the steps, sitting all alone.

Even though her back was turned to Alice, the child was easily recognizable. Her fine wool coat and deep brown braids tied with red satin ribbons gave her away. Alice noticed the new leather Mary Janes and the wool stockings that coordinated with the hem of the pleated skirt that peaked out from the edge of her coat. The girl sat with her elbow upon her lap and her cheek cradled against her fist. Alice made her way down the steps and stopped at the bottom just beside the little girl.

"How are you today, Miss Leah?" Alice asked in a cheery tone.

The little girl looked up with big wide eyes and gave Alice an answer that did not at all match her posture.

"I'm fine, thank you," she replied politely.

"What are you doing over here all by yourself? Don't you want to play with the other children?"

The girl returned her cheek to her fist and mumbled, "No, not really."

Alice's nose wrinkled as she scrunched up her mouth in a pucker. Something was off.

"Mind if I sit down?" she asked.

"No, ma'am," little Leah replied, tucking her skirt beneath her thighs to allow some more room for Miss Alice.

Alice sat down and took in a deep breath of fresh air. The sun was strong enough to turn the back of her eyelids red as she closed them against the noontime sky. For a moment, she wrestled with how to bring whatever was bothering little Miss Clearwater out from behind her shield.

"So what is it you do like to play?" Alice asked nonchalantly.

Leah turned her head, almost stunned that a teacher was asking her what she wanted to play. After all, it had nothing to do with reading or writing or her education. Alice just waited patiently and stared out at the schoolyard. Leah composed herself before letting out a sigh and returning to her former position of acceptance or boredom.

"Doesn't matter, I can't play it anyway."

Now Alice knew something was up.

"Why would you say that?" she asked indignantly. "Surely if you want to play something, you can."

This got little Leah's back up.

"No, ma'am, I can't. The boys don't want to play with me."

Alice's brow furrowed again. This wasn't at all what she had been expecting.

"Leah, what exactly is it you want to play?"

Leah only huffed but after a moment, a mumbled plea fell from her lips. "I want to play cowboys and Indians. The girls don't want to play that, and the boys don't want to play with me."

Alice bit back a grin at Leah's request and innocent plight. She didn't want the girl to think she was making fun of her.

"Well, Miss Leah," Alice began. "I think you have two choices here. You can sit on the step and mope your way all through recess, or you can make up a plan to get the boys to play with you. I don't know about you, but for me, the steps are getting might chilly against my britches."

Leah couldn't help but laugh at a teacher saying the word "britches." Her laugh turned into an undignified snort and poor Leah suddenly remembered her manners and swiftly clasped her gloved hand over her mouth. This made it really hard for Alice not to laugh at the girl. The sound was completely comical, and the fact that it had come from the mouth of one of the most well-bred girls in Easton was in and of itself humorous.

"Well, they are!" Alice squealed, brushing her shoulder up against Leah's and knocking the girl a little off kilter. This only made the girl laugh harder. "Do you want to come up with a plan?" Alice asked conspiratorially.

Leah quickly nodded, and a spark of ingenuity flittered across Alice's lovely face.

"Good." Alice winked. "I think you need to develop your tribe of followers."

"Tribe of followers?" Leah asked questioningly.

"Yes, if you're the chieftess, then the clan or tribe are your followers."

Leah stared at Alice as if she had lost her mind. Her eight year old brain couldn't wrap itself around the idea of her leading a pack or tribe or clan of anything.

"Why would they follow me?"

"Why not?"

Leah didn't have an answer for that one.

"Okay, I think the boys will want to follow you, Chieftess Leah, if you show up with the right equipment. You know feathers and a headdress and wampum." Alice made motions with her hands helping demonstrate a long, tall headdress, and she rubbed her thumb against her pointer finger signaling money.

"But where will I get those things?" Leah asked.

"We'll make them."

Suddenly a spark of joy flitted across the young girl's face. "Do you think it will work?" she asked excitedly.

"Of course," Alice replied, waving off the girl's questioning look. "You give me a day to get the supplies and then make sure you ask your mom if it's okay for you to stay late, and I'll meet you in my classroom after school on Thursday. Sound good?"

"Yes!" Leah shrieked. "I mean, yes, Miss Brandon," Leah replied, shaking her head to remember her place.

Alice only tapped the girl on the shoulder and smiled. It wasn't easy being the daughter of one of the most influential men in the county. It was pretty obvious to Alice that young Miss Leah had been taught manners and proper etiquette from a young age. Alice felt bad for the girl, who didn't seem to have much of an opportunity to act her true age. Hopefully with some scissors and glue and perhaps a few stray feathers, Alice could help her change that—at least for a little while.

a**AAA**a

Alice shivered against the wind as she made her way down her long driveway. By the time she'd made it home from school, the afternoon sun had nearly set. Alice did her best to ignore the cold as she raced the final few steps to the old, black metal mailbox. She wrenched the lid open and threw her hand inside. The days of gingerly opening the door in fear of a Western Union telegram about Bella were now long gone. These days she eagerly approached the stack of mail that was awaiting her. Each day she tried to quell her hopes that somewhere in the stack would be a new letter from Jasper. Her attempts to reign herself in rarely worked. In fact, as the days after his last letter grew, Alice found herself increasingly disappointed with the speed of the U.S. Post. Today she grabbed the stack with frigid fingers and flipped through each piece with lightning speed until she reached the small white envelope she had been searching for, a letter from Jasper. As soon as she recognized his now familiar handwriting, her face lit up into a beaming smile.

Alice tore back up the steps of the porch, slamming the screen door back against the frame. The door flew closed behind her as her fingers wrenched open the buttons of her wool coat. It went flying against the easy chair as she kicked off her shoes and crawled into the corner of the couch. Despite all of her efforts to remain unruffled, Alice was burning with excitement over clutching another note from PFC Whitlock. Without even a glance in the direction of the stairs and her father's silver letter opener on her desk, Alice ripped open the envelope and pulled out the lone sheet of paper inside.

She tried to hide her disappointment at the brief note. Perhaps he was running short on time or out somewhere where he couldn't write. After all, he is at war, Alice thought in an attempt to quell her disappointment. The other side of that coin brought to bear her fears over Jasper being out in the middle of a battlefield. She knew he was stationed in London and that he wasn't near any heavy fighting, but the thought still unnerved her. Whatever Bella and Edward had been involved in during the war was dangerous. She also knew that was where they had met Jasper, so it was quite obvious that he was involved with the same line of work. Each night Alice listened to the war updates and cringed over the reported bombings over London. Alice quickly shook her head and pushed all of that aside in favor of reading Jasper's words. They were the one thing that could ease her from these worries.

Her eyes quickly traced the scarce lines on the page. Her right hand lifted to cover her mouth and her eyes went wide. Alice had to read the words three times before they finally began to sink in.

last letter…you wound me

Alice flipped through the rest of the mail one more time, hoping against hope that this was some kind of a misunderstanding or a horrible joke. How could he believe I had so little respect for him? Then the realization hit Alice like a freight train.

What if he never received my second letter? What if he thought I was being serious? What if by the time he did receive my real letter he'd decided he'd had enough of me?

Alice's shoulders slumped, and a deep feeling of loss hit her harder than she could have anticipated. They had only exchanged a few letters, but in these past months, she'd come to realize that she needed more out of her life than the white picket fence and the stature she was supposed to aspire to in society. She wanted someone real who made her heart flutter, who laughed and joked and bit back and made her insides melt. The solitary page she held in her hands made her realize that the best opportunity she'd had to find it had just flitted away. Alice covered her face in her hands and tried very hard not to cry.

Hours later, after a dinner of hot tea and a piece of unbuttered toast, Alice tried for the third time to explain her reasoning to Bella.

"Because he's young, Bella, because if he's decided that this isn't for him, if I'm not for him, then I'd rather know now when it hurts like a broken arm rather than later when it will hurt like setting my arm on fire."

"Alice," Bella chastised. "I've never known you to be a quitter. Why are you giving up now?"

"Bella, I'm tired," Alice replied, evading Bella's question completely. "I need to go to bed so that I can get up for school tomorrow morning."

Her heart ached. A strong part of her wanted to listen to Bella's advice and write back to Jasper anyway, but Alice's insecurities about her age kept her from committing to Bella's plan.

"Too damn bad!" Bella roared. "As you know I get precious little sleep these days with Serena's feeding schedule, so I think you can manage one rough morning to deal with this. We're not leaving this conversation until you promise me you'll write back to him. If he doesn't know your feelings, then make him understand them. He's a smart boy, he'll—"

"That's exactly right, Bella. He's a boy."

"Ugh," Bella grunted in frustration. "Get this through your head. He is a boy, and you are a girl. Together you make new boys and girls. That's how it works."

Alice laughed hard at Bella's simplistic attempt to teach Alice about the birds and the bees. At least her pitiful attempt at a joke was working. Alice sighed hard enough for Bella to hear it on the other end of the line. She cradled the phone against her ear and twirled the thick, black phone cord in her fingers before conceding to part of Bella's request.

"I'll think about it."

"But—" Bella began.

"No buts, I said I'd think about it. I'm going to bed. I'll call you tomorrow."

This time it was Bella who sighed. At least she hadn't lost the war. She'd do battle against her friend's dejected self-esteem again tomorrow night.

"Love you, Alice," Bella whispered.

"Love you too, B. Kiss my baby for me?" Alice asked, thinking of how she missed seeing little Serena now that they'd moved up to New Jersey.

"I would, but he's in the shower at the moment."

"Ew, Bella. That's ridiculously crass and equally disturbing."

"I know, but I wanted to get a rise out of you. No more sulking, go to sleep, figure out a plan and then get to it. Then in the meantime, I'll kiss your goddaughter for you and tell her what an amazing woman her aunt is."

Alice smiled and half snickered into the phone. The advice from Bella was a whole lot like the advice she'd given little Leah Clearwater not twelve hours ago.

"I'll call you tomorrow," she replied.

Alice laid the receiver on the cradle and left her cooling tea on the counter by the kitchen sink. When she climbed the stairs and finished getting ready for bed, she realized her mind was still turning with what to do. Deciding she was too drained to come to a decision tonight, she curled up in bed with a translation of Metamorphoses and became lost in the tales of Perseus and Andromeda. Not ten minutes had passed before her eyelids grew heavy, and her dreams of a brave warrior morphed into a young soldier sent to rescue her from the horrid matchmaking devices of her church's coffee clan.

Two days later, on Thursday afternoon, Alice found herself at her school desk staring down in chagrined disbelief at Jasper's four page letter. She'd probably read it close to twenty times in the last twenty hours. Each pass over his words pulled her mouth up into a beautiful smile. Alice reread his closing and stared off glassily.

if you are willing to hold yourself open and write to me, then I will gratefully accept your gift and wait for the opportunity to someday hold your warm hand in mine. I eagerly await that day.

Until then, yours patiently,

Jasper

"This boy is going to be the death of me," Alice murmured.

"Which boy?" a small voice called out.

Alice jumped with a start and spun her chair around from the window beside her desk to face the puzzled expression on Leah Clearwater's little face. Alice looked appropriately embarrassed that her voice had been loud enough to carry over to the eight year old's little ears. She picked up her letter and placed it back into the envelope, snickering once at Jasper's quickly scrawled note on the back.

P.S. I've been wanting to ask you this for a while now. What did Bella mean when she told me to ask you about the "J" in the apple game?

Once again Alice's smile grew, and as she turned to place the envelope back into her satchel, she noticed that Leah's expression hadn't changed and that she appeared to be waiting expectantly, although politely, for a response.

"Well, I've—I've been writing to a soldier who is away at war."

Leah's brow wrinkled in confusion, "A soldier?"

"Yes," Alice replied patiently. "A U.S. soldier who is serving in London, England. He is very brave and very kind. He helps fight our enemies and keep us safe."

Leah's face puckered as if she knew more than her teacher did. "That hardly sounds like a boy to me. There aren't any boys around here who I'd call either brave or kind."

Alice tried very hard not to laugh at the little girl's sour expression. She knew that Leah was thinking of her own classmates, but as her words sounded in Alice's ears, she couldn't help but wonder if Leah truly had wisdom beyond her years. Somewhere deep inside of her, Alice started to wonder if he wasn't a boy to her either.

a**AAA**a

By Friday afternoon, Alice and Leah had assembled quite a sizeable wardrobe for her tribe. As they began cleaning up for the day, Alice tested Leah about the things they had learned in her studies.

"So what is the tribe called?" Alice asked.

Leah garbled the pronunciation so Alice tried again.

"It's pronounced 'Pow-HAT-un.' 'Pow' rhymes with 'cow,' and 'HAT' rhymes with 'cat.' Where did the Powhatan's live?"

"They lived in Virginia but migrated north through Maryland and into Pennsylvania and New Jersey."

"Very good," Alice replied. "Now what made Chief Powhatan different from other chiefs?"

"He was more like a European king than an Algonquian chief. He ruled with absolute power, not through a council."

"Excellent, Leah. You really learned a lot in these last two days. Okay, one more. Who was the most famous Powhatan Indian?"

Leah rolled her eyes as if to mock the simplicity of the teacher's last question.

"Pocahontas, of course."

"Of course," Alice replied. "So, do you feel like you're ready to show the boys who's the chieftess on Monday?"

Before Leah could answer, another small voice spoke up.

"What's a chieftess, can I be one too?"

Both Leah's and Alice's heads turned in the direction of the door only to find Brady's brown, floppy waves and freckled grin staring back at them.

"No, you can't. A chieftess is a girl," Leah added sarcastically.

"Leah," Alice reproached. "A good chieftess brings everyone into the clan. They all work together, remember?"

"But he's too little," Leah whined.

"He's little, but he's a boy," Alice added quietly with raised eyebrows. "Every chieftess needs a clan. Without followers, she's just playing by herself."

Leah hung her head and sighed.

"Okay," she said to Brady. "Come on, we'll show you how to play."

The little boy ran toward the table, filled with excitement. For once, the turtle shell had been forgotten.

a**AAA**a

Alice sat down at her writing desk with a grilled cheese sandwich and a steaming bowl of tomato soup. The meal wasn't gourmet by any means, but it was quick and that's exactly what Alice was looking for tonight. She hadn't even bothered to turn on the radio this evening. She was too anxious to get her nervous energy out into words in her response to Jasper's letter.

With the crumbs of her sandwich brushed lightly from her fingertips and her napkin wiping the remnants of her soup from the corners of her mouth, Alice pushed aside her plate in favor of her pen. For a moment she lightly tapped the edge against her full lips before a slow smile pulled her cheeks into rosy round cherries. With a wicked glint in her eye, Alice turned her quick wit into written word.

February 11,1945

Dear Jasper,

How wise of you to position yourself across an entire ocean when I received your last letter. It isn't often that I'm told to "get used" to something. I don't know whether I should act petulant or be grateful that you take my title of Miss so seriously. I should also raise a skeptical eyebrow at your desire to know me more intimately. Just think of the scandal your words would cause should your letter fall into the hands of the women in my church's coffee clan.

Jasper, pick your chin up off the floor. I'm kidding, but I must say that your cussing did surprise me. Not the use of the vulgarity, but rather the slang. Cussing? You confuse me, dear Jasper. One moment you're describing astrology and mythology, and the next you use the slang of someone with a fraction of your intellect. I feel I must get to know you better to unravel the mysteries of your enigmatic mind.

In all seriousness, it makes me smile to think that my letters make you happy. It would be a gross understatement to say that yours do the same for me. Just the thought of the end of our correspondence, if only in jest, made me very sad.

In that moment, despite her concerns that Jasper's inexperience coupled with her own age would leave him looking in greener pastures, Alice decided to take her own advice. She would open herself to Jasper and place her heart squarely in fate's cold hand.

I don't know how else to describe it to you, other than to say that your endearing words, quick wit, and love of fairness have allowed you to slip beneath my defenses. This is something I can promise no man has done before. The truth is that I look forward to seeing the land you call home and learning to ride under your tutelage. These little plans give me more to look forward to than just meeting you in person. I like the idea of looking toward tomorrow with thoughts of you in mind.

Now I must add a bit of a reproach. Were you mocking me with your tease about the local debutantes? I should hope not, but I do like the plan of using Alec's wedding band as a shield. After all, if I'm going to take my limited free time away from the generals to correspond with you, I should hope you'd consider yourself unavailable for them.

It sounds like Alec does his part keep you out of trouble, and I take comfort in that. At the same time, I wonder exactly what kind of trouble are you getting yourself into? Should I be more concerned than I already am? I try not to think about the danger you place yourself in. The anxiety would give me gray hair and I need no further indication of my present age. I'm glad that you get along well with Alec, but unless you decide to impart some of your shared humor with me, I shall begin to question the sort of influence he has on you. As you've mentioned in your last letter, you and I are partners now, and as such, we should look out for each other and do some careful checking into the company the other keeps.

Speaking of which, I have to tell you how happy Bella and Edward were to learn you accepted the charge as Serena's godfather. Bella was ridiculously happy when I called her last night and told her of your letter. I think her exact words were, "I knew he was the right man to look after my girls."

Alice laughed a little at the tongue in cheek comment. Bella said something closer to I told you so, when Alice read her that part of Jasper's letter last night. Alice smiled shyly at the thought of being one of the girls that Jasper vowed to protect. The innuendo hadn't been lost on her.

If we were standing face to face today, I'd look you squarely in the eye and tell you that you may think yourself subtle but you're not. You have nothing to worry about when it comes to Emmett Francis McCarty. Emmett is about as attractive to me as the sons of the coffee clan ladies. Which is to say that it amounts to not at all. Aside from this fact, he is also quite taken by the lovely Rosalie Hale, a nurse he became enamored with during his trip back across the Atlantic. You do worry me when you sound so sullen about Emmett being your stand in at Serena's baptism. There isn't much I can offer you to fix that, other than to say that you're not the only one who wished it was your hand that had been laid upon Serena's soft head. After all, every time I turned to look up at Emmett to provide a response during the ceremony I got a horrible crick in my neck. Are you laughing at me? You should laugh. It was a joke. Though mind you, keep the short jokes you supply on your own to a minimum, else my paddle will appear.

This is a bit of an uncomfortable segue for me, but it's one I want to ask in an attempt to know you better. More than once you've mentioned your father beating you. Did that happen often? I realize corporal punishment is common, but my father never laid a belt to my sister or me. I don't think it is something I could stomach to watch or accept with my own children someday. I just want to see the situation through your eyes, if you'll allow me.

Alice looked over Jasper's letter and thought about his request for a picture. A wicked grin appeared on her face as she discovered the perfect way to get back at him for making her crazy. She quickly brought out a fresh piece of stationary and wrote a short, little note in response. This time, however, she would place this letter in the same envelope as her longer one to ensure that Jasper never again had to be uncertain of her intentions. She liked their playful banter, but she would never purposefully expose him to the heartache she'd felt over the last two days. She continued on with her letter, ignoring the request for her photograph.

Since I'm asking you to open up to me, I'll give you no less in return. As I said, my father never laid a hand on me or my sister in anger. He had a very interesting approach to child rearing. All arguments were discussed logically until he felt that my sister and I were able to see the error of our ways. Perhaps this was the antithesis of his profession. My father is an attorney. He spends the better part of his day arguing and fighting for his clients. I imagine he looked forward to some solace when he finally returned home. To be quite honest, my sister and I often acquiesced to these orations quickly, not because we agreed with him, but rather because we didn't want a twenty minute lecture on the importance of eating green vegetables.

My parents' relationship is similar to Dad's approach to childrearing. I don't mean to give you the impression that they don't love each other; they do, but my fundamental idea of a loving relationship came more from my grandparents than my parents. My mother and my sister are two peas in a pod. They are interested in the town talk during bridge club, the starch in their husbands' kerchiefs, the stylishness of their hairdos and the patterns of the china in their curio cabinets. I find it very forged, and it's not me. I am more my grandmother's daughter than my mother's. I live in the house that I inherited from her, and my fondest memories are contained in that kitchen. We were making a cake for my grandfather's birthday when a tune he liked came on the radio. He strolled through the dining room and into the kitchen and pulled my grandmother away from her task of stirring the dry ingredients. The wooden spoon flipped out of her hand as his arms curled around her waist. He hummed softly in her ear. She swatted at him and argued that he was ruining her cake. He ignored her and turned her to face him. Disregarding the flour which covered her housecoat and the mess at the table, he took her hand in his and twirled her around the small space between the stove and the table. She laughed and called him an old fool. He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose before pulling her closer to him. I watched as his lips brushed her ear, and he crooned the refrain, "Dream a little dream of me." Even as a little child I could recognize the bashful smile of happiness on her face. It came from a woman who was being adored. When the song ended, he pulled back, and I let out a cackle at the flour that was now covering his tweed waistcoat. My grandfather abruptly pinched some flour from the table and tossed it in my direction. I scrambled under the table to hide but heard the smack of his lips against my grandmother's skin. I looked up from my hiding spot in time to hear him whisper, "Thank you for the dance, Caroline. It makes the day that much sweeter."

Alice looked over at the clock by her bedside and realized it was getting rather late. She yawned sleepily before shaking off the call of her bedclothes. She wanted to finish this letter before she left for Bella's in the morning. She had already told her parents that she was going out of town to meet with other elementary teachers to begin plans on a state wide curriculum that would encourage the use of art in everyday lessons. Alice knew the fib might someday come back to bite her, but she promised Bella that she would keep her return to the U.S. a secret from her parents. Whatever danger Bella and Edward had faced in London, Alice had no intention of doing anything to bring it to Bella's doorstep and Serena's cradle. So for now, Alice avoided the topic of Bella whenever she spoke to her parents or gave vague responses to their inquiries.

Jasper, you mentioned wanting to be my defender, but I don't want you to worry. There's no need to call in Edward to check my locks. My father did a mighty fine job of helping me restore the locks when I took over the old gal from my grandmother. I live in a farm community, and although I don't tend land myself, I can assure you that the neighbors are very kind and would help me in a pinch if I needed anything. Put your mind at ease on this, please. You have more important things to concern yourself with, like the enemy with the ammo pointed in your direction.

I trust your words when you said that you have all of the supplies you need to keep you safe. You embarrass me with your words about the compass. If the compass only became precious because I accepted it, then allow me to send you a small kindness in return.

Alice yawned once more, realizing that her body's call to slumber was growing more insistent by the minute.

As for the story of the apple game, it will have to wait for another night. I leave for a weekend with Edward and Bella in the morning and before I go, I will get this letter off to you in the morning mail.

Jasper before I go, I want you to know something. If you're ever scared and can't find peace, remember that you're not alone. On my Sunday walks along the shoreline, the wind blows the spray around me. The sun dances like glinting jewels across the waves. The sand grounds me. The familiar scent of life and the peaceful rhythm of the waves surrounds me. You'll find me here—waiting for you. When I look out my window each evening, I take comfort in knowing that we're staring at the same stars of night. I smile when I find Perseus still standing guard in the evening sky. Like many nights, I know that tonight when I slip beneath my bedclothes I'll dream of a brave and gallant warrior who also happens to hold my future in the palm of his hand.

Pleasant dreams, Jasper. May God keep you safe for me.

Alice

Oh, one last note before I go. Given the story of your slippery Christmas meal, I certainly hope for your sake that the cooks haven't dredged the Loch Ness for your evening meal.

Alice chuckled at her final remark and pushed herself away from her desk. Before reaching to shut off the light, she picked up the folded the tiny hankie embroidered with her initials and cradled it to her cheek once before placing it in the envelope with her letter.

"I wish I were going with you," she whispered to the envelope clutched between her fingers. "But when you find him, keep him safe for me."


A/N: So Alice is finally putting herself out there for Jasper. Preview from next week..

Jasper stared around the room trying to keep his mind on the tempo and anything but the sweet smelling beauty in his arms. He searched desperately for Alec but only saw the back of his brown head as he waited in the crowded line for his turn at the bar. He felt Kate's body begin to relax and suddenly he was moved to stare into her deep brown eyes. Within them, Jasper saw a familiar look of longing. She was just a gal looking to share a few moments of relative peace. Jasper's expression softened as he smiled back at her...

Well, just remember that Jasper is young and inexperienced. I'll put another teaser in this week's review responses.

Thank you for reading. Let me know what you think.

-FB

p.s. The pictease for this chapter was really perfect. It's of Alice's grandparent's embrace. The link is on my profile


The Long Way Home Historical Research and Reference Guide: Chapter 7

Story reference: Alice falls asleep reading the poems of Metamorphoses lost in the story of Andromeda & Perseus

Historical Significance: A Latin narrative poem in fifteen books by the Roman poet Ovid describing the history of the world from its creation to the deification of Julius Caesar

Source: http:/en(dot)wikipedia(dot)org/wiki/Metamorphoses_%28poem%29


Story reference: Alice works with Leah on the dress and currency of native Americans in MD.

Source: http:/www(dot)native-languages(dot)org/maryland(dot)htm

http:/www(dot)bigorrin(dot)org/powhatan_kids(dot)htm


Story reference: Alice recalls for Jasper her fondest memory of her grandparents dancing to Dream a Little Dream of Me

Historical Significance: Dream a Little Dream of Me was recorded by Ozzie Nelson and his orchestra in February of 1931

Source: http:/www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=ry3G_JpxDco&feature=related