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tossing lately to decide on the next direction to travel in, something Jocelyn had started in Europe when she couldn’t make up her mind what country to visit next. She had every intention of eventually reaching California this time, where she had sent her ship, the Jocel , to meet her. Of course, if something came up to change her mind in the interim, she could always send a message to the captain to meet her elsewhere, as she had done many times before.
    She had been debating whether to spend some months exploring this country, as they had done in Mexico, or whether to go on to Canada or South America once she reached California. It was a matter of priorities, really, safety versus pleasure. She wanted to see more of these Western territories, and more of the states, too, and their cities. She had only been to New York and New Orleans so far. And she had especially wanted to visit the stud farms in Kentucky she had heard about, to see how their Thoroughbreds would compare with hers, and if they had any mares she might want to buy for Sir George, the prize stallion she had brought with her.
    But if she did as she wanted to do, John Longnose was likely to catch up to them. He was the chap who had been following them about the world ever since they had left England three years ago, hiring cohorts in different countries as he needed them, so that they never really knew whom to suspect, or whom to watch out for. They had never seen the man, nor did they know his actual name. John Longnose was simply the name they gave to him because he was so often a topic of conversation, and they needed some name to call him by.
    The safe thing to do would be to take to sea again once they reached California. There was a good chance that Longnose would lose the scent that way, at least for a while. Unless, of course, he had already tracked her ship to the West Coast and would be there waiting for her. And blast it all, she was tired of playing it safe, she really was. It was all she had been doing since this mad adventure had begun, often having to leave a place before she was ready, changing hotels frequently, changing her name even more frequently.
    “Oh, dear, I see you’re brooding again,” Vanessa remarked, looking pointedly at the fan Jocelyn was using with increased speed. The frown she got in answer had her amending, “Of course it is terribly hot, isn’t it?”
    “We’ve been in hotter countries, including the one we just left.”
    “Indeed we have.”
    Vanessa said no more. She even looked back out the window, as if the subject were closed. Jocelynknew better. It was an affectation of the countess’s to give the impression of retreat, when that was rarely if ever her intention. It was an annoying habit, though Jocelyn was quite used to it by now, even ignored it most times. It was easier to just tell Vanessa what she wanted to know than to try to put her off.
    You would think two women would get on each other’s nerves after being constant companions for so long, but that had never happened. The friendship begun in England had grown until there wasn’t anything they didn’t know about each other, anything they couldn’t speak of.
    They made an odd pair, Jocelyn with her vivid coloring, Vanessa pale with ash-blond hair and light brown eyes. The countess was thirty-five now, but she looked ten years younger, with a full figure that turned men’s heads. Jocelyn was still thin, all the rich, exotic foods she had sampled in every country they visited not helping at all to increase her curves. When they stood together, Vanessa’s shortness made Jocelyn appear taller than her five and a half feet in height, and skinnier than she really was. Vanessa was approachable, conventional in appearance, not at all intimidating, while Jocelyn was the exact opposite simply because her looks were so unusual.
    Jocelyn wouldn’t know what to do without the countess. She often marveled that the older woman hadn’t abandoned her long ago,