his face, but it was too dark. Did he regret kissing her? She couldn’t imagine why, when they’d been leading up to it ever since the first moment they’d met. A sudden thought chilled her, and she backed up a step. Jamie’s sense of adventure had brought him to California, but unlike her, he didn’t need to prove himself. He would have no interest in being saddled with a woman when he had a business to establish, and a rancho to run. Besides, he was correct: her goal in striking out for California was to prove that she could be an independent woman, and she wasn’t prepared to give up her dream. At least not yet.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she said, boldly touching him on the cheek. Then she turned and walked toward the soft glow of light coming from the companionway, her lips still tingling from the unexpected kiss. She had a lot to think about tonight.
* * *
Jamie made no move to follow her, even though his body ached with the need to touch her again. He wanted to slowly remove the pins from her hair and run his fingers through the silken strands.
He gave a strangled laugh. Who was he kidding? He wanted to make love to her. He was right when he’d said that he shouldn’t have kissed her, but not for the reasons she might think. A shudder rippled through his body as he took in a deep, calming breath. He didn’t know why he wanted her so badly. He’d known women more beautiful, more socially adept, but he’d never known anyone with the fire and independent spirit shown by Sarah. Not to mention the fact that she cared about others. That in itself was enough to make him fall in love with her.
But he had to let her go. She was obviously inexperienced when it came to men, and he sensed that her underlying sensuality could burst into the flames of passion very easily.
‘Flames of passion’ ? When had he started thinking like the dialogue in those penny dreadfuls, the new rage in fiction from England? He reached inside his jacket, patted the slim pack of cigars in his vest pocket, and debated lighting one. Caught up in the need to draw Sarah into his arms, he’d tossed a perfectly good cigarillo into the ocean earlier. If that wasn’t proof that he was in too deep and needed to step back, then nothing was. No, he told himself. He’d save the cigar for when he really needed it. He braced his feet apart as the ship crested a long, rolling wave and slid down the other side. High one moment, and low the next: much like his life at the present. He turned and went below.
* * *
“The pastry’s too short.” Levi looked pointedly at the pastry flakes that littered the table. “You need to cut back on the lard. You know... make the pastry tougher.”
Sarah looked to Lucy, then to Jamie. They both nodded.
“I’m not sure if I can,” she said with a frown.
“Nonsense. Of course you can. You just don’t want to.” Lucy eyed her knowingly. “You’re proud of your flaky pastry, and rightly so, but it just doesn’t work with these.” She took another bite. “They’re delicious. I’ll bet you could sell as many of these as you can make.” She absently picked up the flakes and ate them. “You said you could fill them with fruit as well?”
Sarah looked to Jamie. “Apparently that has been done, with equal success.”
Lucy placed her hands on her ample hips. “You could make a living with these.” Her eyes flashed as she warmed to her subject. “I’ve heard about women who sell food to the miners. Some of them are making more than their husbands. But they’re limited by the number of plates, and spoons, and seats. With these, the men don’t need to sit down. Just think how many more you could sell that way.”
Sarah shouldn’t have been surprised that Lucy had read her thoughts. They’d spent a lot of time together this past month, and what had started as a friendship on a sea voyage had turned into something more permanent. Lucy would never take the place of
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she said, boldly touching him on the cheek. Then she turned and walked toward the soft glow of light coming from the companionway, her lips still tingling from the unexpected kiss. She had a lot to think about tonight.
* * *
Jamie made no move to follow her, even though his body ached with the need to touch her again. He wanted to slowly remove the pins from her hair and run his fingers through the silken strands.
He gave a strangled laugh. Who was he kidding? He wanted to make love to her. He was right when he’d said that he shouldn’t have kissed her, but not for the reasons she might think. A shudder rippled through his body as he took in a deep, calming breath. He didn’t know why he wanted her so badly. He’d known women more beautiful, more socially adept, but he’d never known anyone with the fire and independent spirit shown by Sarah. Not to mention the fact that she cared about others. That in itself was enough to make him fall in love with her.
But he had to let her go. She was obviously inexperienced when it came to men, and he sensed that her underlying sensuality could burst into the flames of passion very easily.
‘Flames of passion’ ? When had he started thinking like the dialogue in those penny dreadfuls, the new rage in fiction from England? He reached inside his jacket, patted the slim pack of cigars in his vest pocket, and debated lighting one. Caught up in the need to draw Sarah into his arms, he’d tossed a perfectly good cigarillo into the ocean earlier. If that wasn’t proof that he was in too deep and needed to step back, then nothing was. No, he told himself. He’d save the cigar for when he really needed it. He braced his feet apart as the ship crested a long, rolling wave and slid down the other side. High one moment, and low the next: much like his life at the present. He turned and went below.
* * *
“The pastry’s too short.” Levi looked pointedly at the pastry flakes that littered the table. “You need to cut back on the lard. You know... make the pastry tougher.”
Sarah looked to Lucy, then to Jamie. They both nodded.
“I’m not sure if I can,” she said with a frown.
“Nonsense. Of course you can. You just don’t want to.” Lucy eyed her knowingly. “You’re proud of your flaky pastry, and rightly so, but it just doesn’t work with these.” She took another bite. “They’re delicious. I’ll bet you could sell as many of these as you can make.” She absently picked up the flakes and ate them. “You said you could fill them with fruit as well?”
Sarah looked to Jamie. “Apparently that has been done, with equal success.”
Lucy placed her hands on her ample hips. “You could make a living with these.” Her eyes flashed as she warmed to her subject. “I’ve heard about women who sell food to the miners. Some of them are making more than their husbands. But they’re limited by the number of plates, and spoons, and seats. With these, the men don’t need to sit down. Just think how many more you could sell that way.”
Sarah shouldn’t have been surprised that Lucy had read her thoughts. They’d spent a lot of time together this past month, and what had started as a friendship on a sea voyage had turned into something more permanent. Lucy would never take the place of
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