"Uhh, aye. Of course I can do that." Bert replied confidently. Because of course the son of cobbler who grew up to be a policeman knew how to ride a horse - translation he didn't have a notion, but he was too proud to confess to that Delilah. Bert looked at Delilah, her eyes closed, her cheeks pink and he wavered.. maybe he should come clean about his poor horsemanship. but her expression stopped him. He felt her pull away, and there was her thousand pound question.

"Delilah, I.. I'm mad crazy about ye." and it all came pouring out. Bert was surprised with just how easy it was. "Since that day in the bakery, I can't stop thinkin' about ye. Yer beautiful, yer funny, and ye've good taste in sweets. I'd be a 'appy man to 'ave ye in me life." Yet the words kept coming in big, honest globs of truth.

"being a copper isn't an easy job, at times it's disgusting. People only see the uniform. Men and Women scream at me. Kids, they spit on me. I'm just doin' the job. It'd be nice to have some one I can talk too fer..." his voice got lower, his tone sadder. "Me. Ye know. Just plain old Bert." he sighed. Could Delilah be that person? He hoped so.