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Restless Hearts
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A
GOLD RUSH
ROMANCE
BOOK ONE
Restless Hearts
by
Mona Ingram
©2014 Mona Ingram
All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental
* * * * *
For Max
* * * * *
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Epilogue
Chapter One
Boston Harbor. May, 1849
Sarah stood at the ship’s rail and tried unsuccessfully to make out the buildings clustered along the shore. The foghorn bleated its mournful warning and she peered into the shifting white mist, trying to pinpoint the familiar landmark. Odd that the sound should startle her now; the foghorn had been part of her life for as long as she could remember. On a normal day it barely registered.
But there was nothing normal about today. In a few hours she would be leaving her familiar life behind. It was exciting and terrifying at the same time, but she’d made her decision. In her mind, there’d been no other option. She couldn’t imagine living the rest of her life in Boston, where nothing in the foreseeable future was likely to change. Staring into the fog, she offered up a silent prayer, hoping that her instincts were right, that leaping off this precipice into the unknown would fulfil her in a way that life in proper Boston never could.
The captain had assured her that the fog would lift and that they would depart as scheduled on the afternoon tide. She was inclined to believe him. Captain Samuel Johnson radiated confidence. He wasn’t much taller than Sarah, but her first impression when she’d boarded the ship a few hours ago was of a man who was an extension of his ship. As solidly built as WindSprite, he’d greeted her with a firm handshake, his feet spread apart as though they were already on the high seas. She was lucky to have found this passage, and she knew it.
Built as a cargo ship, WindSprite hadn’t originally been intended to carry passengers, but these days with more and more people clamoring for transportation to San Francisco, the ship’s owners had made some slight modifications, carving out space for what she now knew would be four other passengers. At least she’d have some company on the long voyage, although she had her doubts that Anna Taylor would provide much in the way of companionship. The woman had embarked with her daughter shortly after Sarah, and the moment she’d stepped on board, her gaze had cast about wildly, as though she was going to be ill. Not surprisingly, the little girl had stayed on deck, wide-eyed and excited as her mother went below to get settled.
The familiar sound of oars clanking in oarlocks drew her attention and once again she peered out into the fog. The ship’s dory came into view, rowed by one of the crew members, but it was the man standing in the bow that drew her attention. He stood easily, one foot braced on a thwart as he surveyed the ship with interest. Sarah looked down at him as the dory drew closer, fascinated by the air of casual confidence that swirled around him. Dark, curly hair and long, stylish sideburns framed a face that could only be described as handsome. Her breath caught in her chest as he looked up at her and nodded, a faint smile on his lips.
Sarah glanced down at the ring on her left hand, and for the first time since she’d hatched this crazy plan, she regretted her decision to pose as a married woman.
A fanciful thought, to be sure. A man who looked like that would be married. She studied him surreptitiously; curious as to why she didn’t know him. She didn’t know everyone in Boston, but society had its limitations, and a man like this would surely be discussed among the unmarried women of the town. The married ones too, for that matter.
“Hello, what’s your name?” The young girl appeared at Sarah’s side. “My name’s Melissa, but my friends call me Missy.” Bright eyes studied her for a moment. “You can call me Missy.”
“Why thank you, Missy. My name is Sarah.”
The child’s attention switched to the dory, which bumped gently against the ship and was made fast by a crew member.
It was only then that Sarah noticed the other passenger in the dory. A woman had been sitting in the back and she rose unsteadily, a voluminous bag clutched in her hands. This must be Lucy Davis, Sarah’s cabin companion. Her trunk had arrived earlier, and had been delivered to the small cabin, her name prominently displayed. A woman in her mid forties, her figure could best be described as generously proportioned. Fully loaded, the ship was sitting low in the water. As with her own arrival, the climb for the new passengers would be manageable.
The man extended a hand, and murmured something to the woman. She nodded, and passed him the bag. She didn’t seem daunted by the fact that she had to scramble up the ladder. As a matter of fact, her eyes sparkled with the challenge, and she was soon standing on deck, smoothing down her skirts and taking in her surroundings.
“So,” she said, striding toward Sarah with a hand extended. “The adventure begins. I’m Lucy Davis. Please call me Lucy.”
Sarah returned the other woman’s smile. “Sarah Howard. Delighted to meet you.”
Missy had watched Lucy’s ascent, and studied her openly.
“Your daughter?” Lucy’s eyebrows rose slightly.
The question caught Sarah by surprise, and she glanced quickly at the man before responding. “What? Heavens, no. This is Miss Melissa Taylor. She gestured toward the companionway. “Her mother is below, getting settled.”
Lucy touched young Melissa on the head and the child smiled brightly at the unexpected attention. “I suppose I should do the same thing.” She bent over and spoke quietly to Missy, who was partially hidden behind Sarah’s skirts. “I’ll see you later, Miss Melissa.”
The child said nothing, but she released her hold on Sarah’s skirt and stepped forward. There was something about Lucy Davis that engendered trust, and Sarah gave silent thanks that the woman would be her cabin mate. It had been too much to hope that she would get a cabin to herself; she was keenly aware that an unpleasant traveling companion would make the long voyage even more tedious. Her luck was holding, and she gave a sigh of relief. The show over, the child drifted away to explore the myriad nooks and crannies on the deck. She’d heard the captain inform Mrs. Taylor that the girl would be confined to a limited area once the ship was under way. The child was taking advantage of the opportunity to explore now.
Sarah turned to introduce herself to the man, but he wasn’t there. She scanned the deck and spotted him near the main hatch, speaking to one of the crew. Whatever they were discussing, he looked comfortable, and as she observed, he threw back his head and laughed, white teeth flashing in contrast with his tanned face. This man was a study in contrasts. He was urbane and well dressed. Elegant, even, and yet he talked comfortably with the crew member. Judging by his comfort in the dory and his tanned appearance, he spent a fair amount of time outdoors.
He glanced over as she studied him, and for the first time she could remember, she didn’t
look away when a man looked at her directly. That was the old Sarah, and although the new Sarah was – as far as the world knew – a married woman, she was also independent and forward thinking. The notion was liberating, and she found herself standing a bit taller as he strode toward her, moving across the deck as though he owned it.
“Mrs. Howard?” He offered his hand and she took it, not surprised by the jolt of energy that passed between them. “I’m Jamie Thompson.” Eyes that were somewhere between grey and blue studied her, and she found herself wondering what color they’d be on a sunny day. His gaze shifted briefly to her left hand, then returned to her face. “Pardon me for being so bold, but since we’ll be traveling in rather close company for the next little while...” He shrugged amiably.
He looked beyond her, and indicated with a tilt of his chin that she should turn. “The fog is lifting, just as the captain predicted. We should get underway right on schedule.”
Sarah twisted the ring around her finger, but he appeared not to notice. “So,” he continued, glancing into the rigging. “It’s a beautiful little ship, wouldn’t you say?”
Sarah found her voice. “I don’t know a lot about ships, but it seems sturdy, and was recommended.”
Jamie nodded. “Thankfully. As you must know, this isn’t the best time of year to round the Cape, but I for one didn’t want to wait until the fall.”
“It’s a difficult concept to grasp,” she mused, almost to herself. “The fact that it’s winter down there while we enjoy summer up here.” She looked to him for reassurance. “We’ll be at our most southerly point in the middle of their winter, right?”
“Yes.” He sauntered over to the mainmast and looked up into the rigging again. “But I have every faith in Captain Johnson.”
He turned back and spoke casually. “Your husband is already in California, I take it?”
Sarah nodded. “Yes, he’s...” She paused. How could she not have made up an occupation for this fictional husband? “He’s a doctor.” At least she could speak with some confidence about the medical profession, as her father was a respected Boston doctor.
His face lit up with an almost boyish enthusiasm. “Have you heard from him? How is everything out there?” He ducked his head in what she assumed was an apology. “Sorry to pester you with questions, but so little news has filtered back.”
“So true,” Sarah murmured to herself.
“Sorry, what did you say?” He moved closer.
She raised her eyes. Lord, but he was a good looking man. Thank goodness she was a married woman. The thought almost made her laugh.
“He’s only been there a few months. He was getting ready to leave when President Polk made his speech about the discovery of gold.” She was getting warmed up now. “Unfortunately, he didn’t give me very much news, just asked me to get the first available ship. It was the only letter I’ve received, but I understand that mail service is rather sporadic.”
Jamie’s gaze swept over her and a knowing smile hitched up the corner of his mouth. “I can understand why your husband would want you to join him.”
He’d said nothing wrong, and yet there’d been a flash of something in his eyes. She’d love to explore it further, to find out what he’d been thinking, but she reminded herself of her marital status.
Jamie’s generous lips narrowed. “I’ve heard similar reports about the mail service. It seems that everyone is so busy making their pile that they don’t have time to waste on the simple services that we take for granted.” He didn’t seem at all upset by the notion of irregular mail service. “So much to organize,” he said, almost to himself.
“What do you do, if I might ask?” Sarah couldn’t quite picture him mining, although his shoulders were broad enough, and he exuded strength.
“Up until now, I’ve worked in my family’s merchant bank.” He gestured vaguely toward the hold. “I’ve brought a large safe, and a minting machine with me.” He anticipated her next question. “I’m from New York. I had the safe shipped up here from New York and then I followed, and purchased the minting machine here in Boston.”
“I see.”
He grinned at her response. “I know, banking is boring, but this is the perfect opportunity to go out there and see it all for myself. I told the Board of Directors of the bank that I’d go and set things up, but that I don’t want to be tied down for the rest of my life. The bank has sent some men from the Chicago area by the overland route, so I’m not obliged to stay.” He gave her an odd look. “Why am I telling you all this?”
Sarah lifted her shoulders. “I don’t know, but I understand your enthusiasm.” She walked to the rail and looked out to the open ocean. Only a few tendrils of fog remained. “I’m anxious to get there myself and see what it’s all about.” She turned and gave him a sideways glance. “What will you do if you don’t work in the bank? Do you intend to join the rush to the gold fields?”
“No.” He shook his head decisively. “For some reason, that doesn’t interest me.” His face took on a faraway look. “My grandfather left me some property.” He turned to her and re-focused. “They call them ranchos, and the one I inherited is outside of San Francisco, on the Sacramento River.”
“A farm?” She wasn’t sure if she could picture him as a farmer.
“I don’t really know. The truth is, I didn’t know my grandfather all that well, and I was as surprised as anyone when he left it to me. I only met him once, when I was about ten years old. He visited us in New York, and I remember spending quite a bit of time with him. I recall pestering him with questions about the rancho; it seemed very exotic and far away.” He smiled at the memory. “He and my grandmother had two daughters, both of whom are married now and living back on the East Coast, so evidently he thought if I inherited, the ranch would stay in the family.” He paused for a moment. “To answer your question, I would imagine there is some general farming on the property, but I believe it’s mostly cattle.”
“So.” She stepped back and appraised him openly. “You’re a land baron.”
He laughed good-naturedly. “Hardly. But I hope you and your husband will come to visit one day when you’re settled in. You might be ready for some time away from the city.” He glanced back toward the open hatch. “I think I’ll check on the safe once more before we get underway. Make sure they have it tied down properly.”
“Right.” Sarah nodded, but her mind wasn’t on his words. She was regretting her decision to pose as a married woman, and not just because Jamie Thompson was a very appealing man. She hadn’t realized that lying about a fictional husband would make her so uncomfortable, but there was no getting around it. She couldn’t possibly travel such a great distance on her own as a single woman. Her thoughts drifted back to the day she’d made the decision to leave Boston.
Chapter Two
Three months earlier
“Thank you for the dance.” Sarah’s dance partner returned her to the group of young women who’d gathered well away from the orchestra. She smiled graciously, unable to remember his name. She’d only agreed to dance with him to get away from the incessant gossip from the cluster of unattached women. Lewis hadn’t partnered her for about half an hour, even though he’d brought her to the dance. She’d reluctantly agreed to attend the St. Valentine’s dance after her mother had overheard Lewis asking her for the second time, and urged her to attend.
She sighed as she scanned the dance floor for a sign of her fiancé. Becoming engaged to Lewis had been a mistake, but she’d accepted his proposal out of desperation, devastated by her father’s refusal to endorse her application to medical school. She and Lewis were good friends, but there was no romantic spark between them, even when he kissed her, his lips dry and cool.
“We haven’t seen much of you recently.” Lydia Carmichael eyed her over her fan. Sarah thought the fan was ridiculous; it was February and not the least bit hot.
“I’ve been busy,” she said, wondering why Lydia had singled her out. “Helping my fath
er with his practise.”
“Euuw.” The expression on Lydia’s face made her distaste clear. “Cleaning up after sick people!”
Sarah wanted to crack her over her head with the ridiculous fan. “No,” she said evenly. “Not exactly. I assist him with many of his small surgeries.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Lydia rolled her eyes dramatically, more for the benefit of the other women than for Sarah. “I forgot about your determination to break into the medical profession.” She tapped the folded fan against her chin and narrowed her gaze. “It won’t work, you know. Women will never be accepted.”
Up until recently, Sarah would have agreed. But things were changing. Slowly, to be true, but they were changing. The trouble was, the changes were unlikely to help her anytime soon.
“Oh, haven’t you heard?” Sarah tried to keep the triumph out of her voice. “Elizabeth Blackwell was graduated from medical school just last month.”
Lydia’s eyes widened, but she recovered quickly. “One woman! Oh yes, I read about that. Wasn’t that a mistake?”
Sarah acknowledged the comment with a tip of her head. “Perhaps her initial acceptance was a mistake of sorts, but she graduated at the top of her class.”
“Really.” Sarcasm dripped from Lydia’s lips and she looked to her friends for support. “Commendable, I’m sure, but one woman graduating from medical school is hardly a trend.”
Sarah’s temper was reaching the boiling point, but she bit her tongue. “True, but attitudes are changing. Especially since the New England Female Medical College opened in Boston last year. I consider that to be real progress.”
“And are you enrolled?”
The spiteful question almost brought tears to Sarah’s eyes, but she refused to show weakness. “Regrettably not. My father wouldn’t approve. And now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go outside for some fresh air.” She turned on her heel and walked away, head held high. Let them talk about her. She didn’t care what they said, but attitudes like Lydia’s didn’t help bring about the important changes that were needed before women could find liberation.