by Mona Ingram
Sarah gave the woman an encouraging smile. “I’m going to find a bucket to leave beside your bed, and bring you a glass with some drinking water to rinse out your mouth. This sickness will go away. You’ll be on your feet in no time.”
The woman’s stomach heaved, but nothing came up. “I’m a poor sailor,” she murmured, collapsing back onto the thin pillow. “Always have been.”
“All right.” Sarah summoned her most confident voice. “A few days, then. Two or three at the most, but you can’t spend the entire voyage here.”
“No, you’re right.” She didn’t sound convinced. “What is your name?” The other woman reached out a hand.
“I’m Sarah Howard. Please call me Sarah.”
“Anna.” A faint smile transformed her face. “My daughter. Is she safe?”
“Oh yes. She’s on deck with my cabin-mate, Lucy Davis.” Sarah pictured the stout, no-nonsense woman. “Don’t worry about her.”
Sarah tidied the room and went in search of a bucket and some water. As she popped her head out of the companionway, she saw Jamie pacing back and forth. It pleased her that he seemed to be waiting for her to appear.
He turned eagerly when he heard her. “Everything all right?” The ship lurched and he reached out to steady her. She was reluctant to admit it, but it felt good to have a man look out for her.
“Yes, she’s just seasick.” A fine mist covered everything, and she looked around for the child. Lucy was seated on a coil of rope, Missy sitting at her feet, oblivious to the worsening conditions. Sarah smiled and returned her attention to Jamie.
“It was a bit...” she wrinkled her nose, “...smelly in there, so I opened the porthole. Do you think that’s all right? I don’t know much about a ship’s movement.”
Jamie scanned the horizon. “It should be all right for now, but make sure to close it later, in case the seas come up tonight.”
“Okay.” She gave him a quick smile. “I’m off to find a bucket to keep beside her bed.”
* * *
Jamie watched her go, wondering if he was the only one who’d felt the sizzle of attraction that raced through his body when he touched her. Had she felt it as well? She hadn’t made any outward sign, and yet for a split second, something had flared in her eyes.
No, he told himself. What he’d felt was wishful thinking. What was that new term he’d read last week... projecting? Yes, that was it. He’d been projecting his own desires onto Sarah, even though he knew better. Sarah Howard was a married woman, and he was too much of a gentleman to pursue her. Besides, look what had happened to his friend Aidan, who had been foolish enough to dally with a sea captain’s wife while the man was away at sea. It didn’t matter that the woman had been more than willing. When her husband found out he’d been cuckolded, he’d challenged Aidan to a duel. A rare event these days, but Aidan had accepted the challenge. His foolish friend was still sporting a sling on the arm struck by the bullet.
And yet there was something about Sarah Howard. Something that didn’t quite ring true. By her own admission, she craved the adventure, the excitement of traveling to California. Not that there was anything wrong with that. Sometimes it was all he could do to tamp down his own enthusiasm. But everything about her spoke of a need for independence. Someone who was prepared to strike out on her own, as opposed to a dutiful wife in a supporting role.
He dismissed the idea with a small snort. Now he was reading things into her words and actions that weren’t there, and that was dangerous; he had some experience in that department.
* * *
Jamie had known Letitia Wilkerson most of her adult life. Her family owned one of the largest merchant banks in New York, and their families were co-invested in several major businesses. During her coming out season, she’d effortlessly dominated the social scene. Her family’s wealth ensured that she was invited to every event, where she shined as the most beautiful debutante of the year. It had seemed only natural that she and Jamie would gravitate to one another, Lettie with her pale blonde hair and cool grey eyes, Jamie with his broad shoulders and dark, good looks.
He couldn’t quite pinpoint the time when he realized that Letitia was a shallow, self-centered woman. By then, it was expected that he would marry her, but life with a woman like Letitia would be one-sided. Already she was trying to manipulate him... something he detested... and he saw nothing but years of unhappiness stretching into the future.
Sarah reappeared, and he watched her go below. He couldn’t imagine Letitia taking care of someone who had just been sick. The idea was laughable, and yet it served to underscore the fact that he could never marry her. Fortunately, they had never been formally engaged, but when he’d told her that he was considering staying in San Francisco, she lashed out at him in a most un-ladylike manner. He hadn’t realized that she’d even heard the words that spewed out of her mouth, let alone use them, and he smiled now at the memory. He’d wanted to applaud her use of the vernacular, but that would have enraged her further. That day, it occurred to him now, was the first time he’d come close to liking her in over a year, and all because she’d shown genuine emotion when she swore like a sailor. The timing of his departure couldn’t have been better.
Prior to leaving, Jamie and his friend had met for one last drink together. Never one to hold back on his opinions, Aidan had suggested that he was taking the easy way out. “You’re running away,” he’d said, coming perilously close to the truth. “Although I can’t say I blame you. Lettie would eat you up and spit you out.”
Jamie had bristled at the comment. “Hold on there.” he’d said, prepared to defend himself.
“Don’t get me wrong.” Aidan signaled for another drink and lounged back in his chair. “What I meant to infer is that your damnable sense of honor would eventually prevail and you would end up marrying her simply because you’ve kept her from meeting anyone else.” He made a half-hearted grab for the barmaid as she placed their drinks on the table, and consoled himself with a deep draught. “And that would be a pity.”
“Yes, it would.” Jamie toyed with his glass. “Lettie will make someone a splendid wife.” He lifted the glass and took a small drink. “Just not me.”
“So you say.” Aidan had looked at him with knowing eyes. “But remember, this is Letitia Wilkerson we’re talking about. “She always gets what she wants.”
Jamie and Aidan had been friends for many years. They’d grown up together, and discovered women together, and sometimes Aidan knew him a little too well. His friend had the innate ability to get to the heart of the matter with a few well-chosen words. A useful skill in many instances, but there were times when Jamie would just as soon have avoided the truth... like the truth about Letitia.
His friend took another drink and stared into his glass as though wondering where the brandy had gone. Every once in a while, when Jamie least expected it, Aidan’s vulnerability showed, and he was reminded of what his friend had lost, and the emotional scars he carried to this day. No one else was ever witness to the pain in Aidan’s eyes and Jamie glanced away, hiding the sympathy he felt for his friend.
“Not this time she won’t.” Jamie stood. “Are you sure you won’t come with me? The ship leaves from Boston four days from today.”
A flash of something resembling interest crossed Aidan’s face, and then the old, devil-may-care facade slipped back into place.
“Some other time, my friend, but thank you for the invitation.” Aidan tried to bow while seated and almost fell from his chair.
Standing here now as the weather started to close in, Jamie smiled at the memory. Aidan could be boorish and annoying at times, but he was a loyal friend, and he would miss his company... one of the few things he would miss about New York.
Chapter Four
Sarah was relieved when Anna Taylor recovered from her sickness and appeared on deck a few days later. Within a week, passengers and crew had settled into a comfortable routine, and almost every day Sarah gave silent thanks that s
he’d been lucky enough to find passage on WindSprite.
Living in Boston, stories about ships captains abounded. Perhaps only the worst stories were repeated, but there were too many reports of mistreatment of crew members to be ignored. Here on WindSprite, Captain Johnson demanded high standards from his sailors, and yet their respect for him was evidenced by their actions, plus their cheerful dispositions. With little to do, she spent an hour or two with Melissa every day, allowing her mother time to rest. Anna had thought to bring some children’s story books, but after several weeks, Sarah knew the stories by heart, and she feared that her reading lacked her former enthusiasm.
A couple of pages before the end, Melissa would start to fidget. “Read it again, Sarah. Please.” Sometimes she wondered if the youngster even heard the stories. She looked up to find Jamie smiling at her. When the weather was favorable, which was most of the time, they had fallen into the habit of spending the few hours after supper on deck, judging the quality of the sunsets. She’d confided in him that the storytelling was becoming tedious, and that she was casting about for other ways to amuse the young girl.
Melissa tugged at her arm and she reluctantly tore her gaze away from Jamie. Sunset was several hours away, and she was already looking forward to that magical time of day.
“I’m sorry, Melissa. I promised the cook I’d help him this afternoon.”
“Mr. Reed?” The child smiled brightly. Levi Reed had not only fed the passengers well, he’d completely charmed the young girl with his fanciful stories of sea monsters.
“Yes. I’m going to help him bake some pies.” She re-tied Melissa’s hair ribbon. “Do you like apple pie?”
The child nodded.
“All right then. Go to your mother while I go below and help Mr. Reed.”
* * *
“Do you believe what they say?” Levi peeled and cored apples while Sarah rolled out pastry. “My mother used to say that people with cold hands produce the best pastry.”
Sarah didn’t look up, but she nodded. “Mine says the same thing.” She transferred the sheet of pastry to the baking dish. “When I was small, I’d watch her bake pies. She was admired for all of her baking, but her pies were in demand for every social event. When I close my eyes, I can see her hands.” She paused for a moment, lost in thought. “By the way, thank you for allowing me in your kitchen. I’m accustomed to being active, and I’m finding the pace of life on board positively glacial.”
“Soon you might find it too hot to do much of anything. We’re reaching the southern latitudes.” He filled the baking dish with apples and passed it back to her for the top crust. “It’s a rare voyage when we aren’t becalmed once or twice.” He brightened. “Although that’s often followed by a storm. Cools us down a treat, and we collect all the fresh water we can.”
Sarah stepped back and admired the remaining pies. Three pies were already in the oven, sending mouth-watering smells drifting throughout the ship. “How many days do you think it will take for us to get there? I’ve heard so many different estimates.”
The ship went into a long, slow roll and Levi rolled with it. Sarah braced herself against the edge of the table.
“Hard to say,” he said. “Four months is good time, although we’ve done it in less. We don’t have the speed of the new clippers.”
“I’ve heard some of the new ones are setting records.”
Levi shrugged. “Yes, but WindSprite isn’t far behind, and the captain knows how to handle her. It all depends on the weather.” He grinned at her. “But you, being from Boston, would know that.”
She acknowledged his comment with a nod. “It’s difficult to live in Boston and not absorb a certain amount of knowledge about the sea. But my main interest has always been medicine.”
“Medicine?” He frowned.
“Yes,” she continued. My father’s medical practise was in our home, and he allowed me to help him.” She waited for the usual expression of dismay, but saw none.
“I would imagine you were quite a help to him. You have competent hands.”
Sarah found herself blushing, something she rarely did. “Thank you.” She decided not to bore him with the tale of her failure to attend medical school. “It’s a fascinating subject.”
“And your husband is a doctor. You’ll be able to assist him, as well.”
For a moment she didn’t grasp what he was talking about, then she recovered. “Yes. Devon and I make a good pair.” Now that she was getting to know her shipmates better, she was finding it increasingly difficult to perpetuate the lie. But she had no other choice.
“Thanks again for allowing me to help. I enjoyed it.”
“I did as well.” Levi grabbed a handful of his apron and prepared to remove the first pies from the oven. “I’ll see you at supper.”
* * *
“The pie was good.” Sarah and Jamie strolled on the deck after supper.
Sarah acknowledged his compliment with a small smile. “It felt good to be doing something. I enjoy making bread as well, but I don’t want to impose myself. It was generous of Levi to allow me to trespass in his kitchen. And what did you do today?”
“I spent some time with the captain, but other than that it was the usual routine.”
Sarah studied the colorful sky as the sun dove toward the horizon. “A nice sunset, but not the best we’ve seen.”
“Hmmm.” He sounded distracted and she looked up to find him studying her. His gaze lingered on her face, then he broke away to study the sunset. Instead of bothering her, she found his interest exciting. What would it be like to be with a man like Jamie? Someone whose masculinity was palpable. It was becoming more difficult to spend time with him, especially in these quiet evening hours, when they were usually alone. She was beginning to fantasize about touching his face; she wanted to feel the coarse stubble on his chin.
“So what do you think?”
“I beg your pardon?” She snapped out of her reverie.
His eyes sparkled as though he’d read her thoughts. “The sunset. Shall we rate it an eight?”
She tore her gaze away from his lips. “I give it a seven tonight. Let’s save the big numbers for something truly spectacular.”
Jamie frowned, as though trying to determine if there was a double meaning behind her words. “Agreed,” he murmured. “It can only get better from here.”
* * *
In spite of the difference in their ages, a solid friendship developed between Sarah and Lucy. Sarah cherished the older woman’s wisdom, and knew that such closeness would have been unlikely back in Boston. As the ship sailed into the southern hemisphere, Lucy passed her time working on an endless supply of embroidery projects, and tried to teach Sarah, but her efforts lacked consistency and Sarah eventually threw up her hands in despair. “I’m wasting your precious embroidery thread,” she said as Lucy cast a critical eye at her work. “I doubt that embroidery thread is something that will be available in the stores when we get there.”
“You make a good point.” Lucy took back the proffered thread and the needle and tucked them away carefully. “Although I daresay you can stitch up a sliced finger as neat as you please.”
“That I can do.” Sarah glanced toward the ship’s rail, where Jamie was supervising Melissa as she attempted to fish. The weather had grown colder the past couple of weeks and Sarah knew that their days outside were numbered.
“He’s a handsome man,” observed Lucy, but her attention remained on Sarah.
Sarah watched as Jamie leaned over the child, showing her how to hold the fishing pole. “Yes,” she sighed, and in that moment, she decided to tell Lucy the truth. She turned to confess her deception, but from the look in Lucy’s eyes she could tell that the other woman had already guessed the truth.
“You’ve figured it out.” Sarah held the other woman’s gaze.
Lucy nodded. “But I’d like to hear it from you.”
Sarah glanced around to make sure she couldn’t be overheard. “It
feels so good to finally tell you this, Lucy. I’m not married, and I’m sorry I pretended otherwise.” She shifted her position so she could look directly at the other woman. “I didn’t see how I could possibly make the trip as a single woman.”
Lucy raised her eyebrows, but remained silent.
“You see...” Sarah plucked a piece of embroidery thread from her skirt. “...everything changed for me on Valentine’s Day, when my fiancé and I decided that we didn’t love each other enough to go through with marriage.”
“A wise decision.”
Sarah looked up, startled. “Do you think so?”
“I wouldn’t say so, otherwise.” Lucy’s tone was matter-of-fact.
“No, of course you wouldn’t.” Sarah continued her explanation. “Fortunately for me, my mother understood when I told her I wanted to get away. She helped me plan everything right up to my escape.”
Lucy set down her embroidery. “Your escape?”
Sarah frowned. “I’ve made it sound more dramatic than it really was. But mother and I both knew that I couldn’t leave when my father was around, so we managed to book passage on this ship which was scheduled to depart while father was in New York at a medical conference.”
Lucy picked up her embroidery again. “That’s right. You told me your father was a doctor. Is his name Devon?”
“No, that’s my brother’s name.”
“Another doctor?”
Sarah laughed. “Not a chance. My father was greatly disappointed when Devon told him he wasn’t interested. No, Dev still hasn’t decided what he wants to do, although he’s working now at a ship’s chandlery.” She paused to think. “He could probably be very good at it if he tried.”
A squeal of delight came from the ship’s rail. Melissa had hooked a fish. Lucy’s face softened as she watched Jamie with her. “He’s attracted to you. You must be aware of that.”