“Why is that, sir?” Phebe asked.
“Because I’m supposed to be escorting you there.”
“Escorting me . . . ?” Both puzzled and alarmed, Phebe lowered her hands until the book she held in them was resting in her lap. “What do you mean?”
His smile broadened. “I mean I was asked to be sure you arrived safely in San Francisco. I’m doing a favor for a friend.”
She blinked at him, her dark-brown eyes showing a hint of alarm. “And does your friend have a name?”
“Adam Frommer.”
Phebe’s eyebrows drew together, and her nose wrinkled as she thought that over. The two pieces of paper in her small reticule suddenly felt like lead. Along with the scrap from her mother was the telegram from well, Phebe supposed, her future sister-in-law. While Caroline Frommer had stressed the need for the wedding to take place as soon as possible, she’d given little information about the man Phebe was going to marry. Whose name wasn’t Adam.
“I’ve never heard of an Adam Frommer,” she finally said cautiously.
The stranger looked surprised for the briefest moment before his features relaxed again into an easy smile. “Adam is married to Caroline, and he has a sister, Christa, and a brother, Henry. Do any of those names sound familiar?” Something in her expression must have told him they did because he nodded again. “I’m Jesse Winthrop, by the way. And I’m pleased to meet you, Miss Johnson.”
“Wigg,” Phebe immediately corrected. “My name is Phebe Wigg.”
Jesse shifted in his seat and studied her for a moment. “Adam told me your last name was Johnson.”
“My father’s name was Johnson,” Phebe clarified. “Daniel Johnson. But I’ve never met him, so I prefer to keep the name I was given at birth. Phebe Wigg.”
“I see.” Jesse said the words slowly, drawing them out. “Is that a story you’d care to share?”
Her back stiffened slightly as Phebe took her turn studying him. “No, I wouldn’t. Why would Mrs. Frommer’s husband send you as an escort? We were informed that train travel is quite safe.”
Seeming to accept her pointed change in subject, Jesse leaned against the unforgiving back of his seat. “It might be in the East. But west of the Rockies, it’s better if you have an escort.”
Genuinely curious to learn whatever she could about her new home, Phebe tilted her head to the side. “Why is that, Mr. Winthrop?”
He smiled. “Please, call me Jesse. We’re also a little more informal west of the Rockies.” He gave her a considering look. “There are a lot more men out here than women, Phebe Wigg. And some aren’t too particular about a wife, or how they obtain one.”
She could feel the heat rising in her face. With her plain brown hair and dark eyes, Phebe knew she was no beauty. She’d always been an ordinary-looking girl, and she’d grown into an ordinary-looking woman. But her supposed escort didn’t need to be so blunt to point out that the only way she’d get a husband was to come out west, where the men weren’t so picky.
“I was tasked to deliver you to Adam in one piece,” Jesse went on, obviously unconcerned about Phebe’s sudden lapse into silence. “I’ve had you in my sight since the Cedar Rapids station, but you looked as if you needed a bit of time to yourself.”
Jesse’s voice had dropped lower, and the soft note of sympathy in it had Phebe’s eyes tearing up. She quickly turned her face away, concentrating on the scenery passing rapidly by outside the window.
“Thank you. That was very kind of you.” When he chuckled, she looked back at him. “What’s so funny?”
“Kind isn’t a word I’m used to hearing,” he admitted. “Care to tell me why you’re going to San Francisco?” When she hesitated, he sighed. “We still have a long ride in front of us, Miss Wigg. And I’ll admit, I’m curious.”
Surprised that anyone would travel so far without knowing why, Phebe frowned. “Didn’t Mr. Frommer tell you the reason he was asking you to do him this favor?”
“No.”
When he didn’t elaborate, Phebe clutched her reticule just a little tighter. That seemed very odd to her. “If I tell you, will you answer a question for me?”
He shrugged. “If I can.”
Settling for that, Phebe relaxed. “I’m a teacher, and I intend to start a school, with the help of my husband, for children who have lost their parents to the mines.” She paused for a moment. “Or were abandoned there.”
The eyes watching her grew a deeper shade of green as Jesse’s mouth pulled down at the corners. “Yeah. I’m afraid that happens.” He gave a slow glance around the passenger car. “You mentioned a husband. Where is he?”
“In San Francisco, but we aren’t married yet. I’m going to marry Henry Frommer. And then we’ll be moving to some land in the mountains near the mining communities. That’s where we’ll build our school.”
For the first time, Phebe would have sworn she saw a moment of shock on Jesse’s face.
“Henry Frommer,” he repeated. “You’re sure the man’s name is Henry Frommer?”
A niggle of alarm wormed its way into Phebe’s mind. Jesse was looking at her with a good deal of disbelief in his gaze, and she had no idea what to make of that. Was there something terribly wrong with Henry? Was that why Caroline Frommer had sent the telegram to Madam Wigg asking about any teacher who was available to marry, and offering to fund a new school, as well as purchase all the supplies it would need?
“You sound . . .” Phebe searched for the right words. “As if you don’t believe me.”
Jesse quickly held up a hand. “No, no. I’m sure you’ve come all this way to marry Henry.”
When she bit her lower lip, he gave her a reassuring smile. “I wasn’t expecting to hear that, is all. Henry never said . . .” He stopped and covered whatever else he’d been about to say with a sudden cough. “Henry’s a good man. He’s smart, healthy, and has a great curiosity about the world, which should appeal to a teacher.” Jesse grinned. “And I’ve never seen any woman take one look at him and run away screaming with fright, so I’d say he’s presentable enough.”
Phebe let out the breath she’d been holding. At least he hadn’t said Henry drank too much, or spent all his money and time at a gaming table. Phebe had read many men out west gave in to those vices.
The man sitting across from her leaned forward slightly. “Thank you for telling me why you’re headed out west. Now, wasn’t there something you wanted to ask me?”
Reminded of her earlier request, Phebe nodded. “Why would your friend send you on such a lengthy journey without giving you his reasons for it?”
“He didn’t need to,” Jesse quickly answered. “You might say that we do a lot of our business on blind trust.”
“What business would that be, Mr. Winthrop?”
“Jesse,” he corrected with a smile. “And we’re both speculators. It’s a kind of investor.”
Not quite satisfied with that, Phebe pursed her lips. “What do you invest in?”
“Many different things, Miss Wigg.” He pointed toward the window. “Looks like we’re heading down out of the mountains. We’ll be in Sacramento soon.”
Chapter 3
“Henry, we can’t keep a guard on you day and night for the rest of your life.” Adam Frommer ran a distracted hand through his thick blond hair as he glared at his younger brother. The two men shared the same height, hair color, and deep-blue eyes, but not the same outlook on life. And right now, it was a glaring difference between them.
Henry adjusted his spectacles on his nose and stared back at Adam. It was clear his brother was upset, but Henry was genuinely at a loss as to exactly why. All he’d done was try to help a lady in distress, and then have a horse unexpectedly go lame. Something he certainly couldn’t have prevented.
“I’m sure Mr. Janson will see reason and calm down soon.” Henry shrugged.
Adam only snorted at that. “I’ve had dealings with Janson, Henry. He isn’t going to calm down soon or at any other time.”
That sounded a little dramatic to Henry, especially for his usually cool-headed and pragmatic older brother. “It’s a simple misunderstanding that Miss Janson obviously hasn’t been able to explain adequately to her father. I’ll arrange to have a conversation with him.”
The oldest Frommer sibling paced several feet away, then turned and stalked back to his position by the fireplace, his arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t think Janson is in the mood to talk, Henry. If you don’t present him with an immediate request for his daughter’s hand in marriage, then you’ll likely end up being shot.” He paused and fixed a hard stare on Henry. “And maybe you should try calling her Priscilla, since you spent half the night with her in a carriage on a deserted road.”
“That’s ridiculous, Adam,” Henry insisted. “Mr. Janson isn’t going to shoot me, and I’ve already explained. Miss Janson had promised to collect her cousin from his friend’s ranch, and she was already late when her carriage driver suddenly took ill. I came across her sobbing in the middle of Portsmouth Square. What would you have had me do in those circumstances?”
“Go to the livery and find a driver for her?” Adam retorted. “Or just shouted out an offer to pay someone to drive her to that ranch. Half the men sitting around the square would have taken you up on it.”
Henry’s eyes lit up. “An excellent suggestion. I wish I’d thought of it. I’ll try to remember it in case I find myself in another similar situation.”
When Adam threw up his hands and stalked over to the window, Henry frowned. Now why was his brother so upset? Henry grunted at the sharp slap of a hand on his back.
“You’re an idiot, Henry Frommer. The smartest idiot in the city.” The petite blond stepped around Henry until she was facing him.
Christa was the youngest of the three siblings, and sometimes the one who scared Henry the most. She could be positively fierce when she wanted to be. But no matter how annoyed she looked, he still took issue with her statement.
“I’m hardly an idiot, Christa. I have a degree from—”
She waved her hand impatiently in front of his face. “Columbia University. Yes, I know. I was there when the school gave it to you, but it certainly wasn’t for common sense.”
He gave her his usual absentminded smile. “I don’t believe there is a course study for such a thing.”
“You were tricked, Henry.”
Adam’s quiet declaration had Henry’s mouth dropping open. Tricked? He shook his head in disbelief. Surely Adam was just being overly dramatic again.
His older brother turned around to face the room, the stunning view of the wide, churning bay at his back. “Priscilla claimed she had to pick up her cousin at a ranch outside the city, but you said when you arrived, no one was there.” He waited for Henry’s nod. “And her carriage horse suddenly came up lame?” After Henry nodded again, Adam let out a heavy sigh. “I had a man check over the horse. He said it was so old and crippled that you were lucky to have made it to that ranch at all. A strange animal for Janson to have as a carriage horse in his stable.” When Henry’s eyes went wide, Adam crossed his arms over his chest before continuing. “And she doesn’t have a cousin. At least not one here in San Francisco. The ranch she took you to is only used on occasion by its owners, who prefer to live in town.”
“She doesn’t have a cousin?” Henry blinked in surprise. “Then why would she want to go out to that ranch at all?”
Christa threw her head back and closed her eyes. “To trap you into marriage?”
Confused, Henry looked from her to Adam and then back again. “Why would she want to do that? I hardly know her.”
“Money,” Adam said succinctly. He crossed the room and took a seat on the small divan that could accommodate two. His wife, Caroline, who’d been sitting quietly through the entire discussion, smiled at him when he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“It’s the oldest reason in the world, Henry.” Adam shrugged. “Janson is heavily in debt and needs an infusion of cash. Something our family happens to have. And my sources told me that his circumstances are desperate enough, it’s doubtful he’s in the mood to be reasonable or forgiving.”
Henry took a few short steps and collapsed into one of the chairs facing Adam and his wife. It had never dawned on him that the young lady he barely knew. and had found sobbing in the square, might have been lying in wait for him.
For the first time since Adam had called a family meeting to discuss “the incident”, Henry began to feel trapped. But carefully going over all the events of that afternoon in his mind, he had to admit that his older brother could be right. Christa took the chair next to him and laid a gentle hand on top of his. Henry sent her a helpless look.
“Why would she settle on me? There’re richer men in the city.”
His sister squeezed his hand. “Because you were the most convenient unattached rich man around, and the nicest.”
“And the most gullible,” Adam put in.
“Adam, that isn’t helping.” Caroline’s gentle admonishment had her husband smiling into her upturned face. She gave him a quick kiss before turning her attention to Henry.
“You did spend quite a bit of time with Miss Janson during your carriage ride out into the country, Henry. Now that you’ve gotten much better acquainted with her, would you consider her for a wife?”
Christa immediately straightened up in her chair. “He would not. We’ve already discussed this, Caroline. Priscilla Janson talks constantly about nothing at all. The woman’s a complete ninny.”
“But,” Caroline said, talking right over her sister-in-law, “you wouldn’t be marrying her. Henry would be, so I’d like to hear how he feels.”
Henry leaned over and clasped his hands in front of him. The room went silent as he thought back to that carriage ride with Priscilla Janson. “She seemed nice enough,” he started out slowly. “However, I did get out of the carriage to walk with the horse.” His gaze rose to meet Caroline’s. “To take some weight off the carriage, but mostly to get away from Miss Janson’s chatter.” He sighed. “I was getting a headache trying to come up with appropriate responses. I don’t know one thing about the latest fashions.”
“See?” There was a note of triumph in Christa’s voice. “Priscilla Janson isn’t a good match for Henry.”
“She isn’t a good match for any sane man.” Adam grinned when his wife gave him an exasperated look.
“But you do believe in marriage, don’t you, Henry?” Caroline asked gently.
Taken off guard by the question, Henry frowned. “Of course. The structure of society is dependent on it. I was reading the other day that—”
“Henry, save the lecture for later.” Christa leaned over the arm of her chair until he glanced at her. “Caroline has devised an excellent solution to your dilemma.”
“Dilemma?”
Adam barked out a laugh. “Yes. Your dilemma. The one where Janson sends a few of those men he keeps around for his shadier business dealings, and they drag you off.” He sighed. “Of course, our neighbors will be standing about and applauding since it would mean you’d no longer be blowing things up in the back garden. That dilemma, Henry.”
“I’m very close to perfecting the kerosene for lanterns to burn without so much smoke,” Henry protested.
It had been unfortunate that the latest shed Adam had put in the garden for his experiments was now a pile of rubble. Much like the two that had gone before it. And then there was the equally unfortunate incident that had required some repair work to the kitchen. He really did need a larger space to work in than the back garden afforded.
“Henry.” Christa snapped her fingers, bringing him back to the present. “Caroline’s solution? Remember?”
He gave her an indignant look. “Of course I do. You just mentioned it.” He shifted his gaze to his lovely dark-haired sister-in-law and smiled. “What do you have in mind? Do you need help building that orphanage you’re so determined to start? I can certainly help with
the design, and of course a few modern conveniences.”
His older brother immediately groaned. “No one needs any of your conveniences, Henry. I don’t want to have to replace an entire building.”
“You simply need more space,” Caroline said. “More space, with a greater purpose, like an orphanage. And a wife to help keep you grounded.”
Henry nodded. “Yes. More space, and a way to help—” He abruptly stopped. Caroline’s words echoed through his mind. A wife? He cleared his throat and took off his glasses, rubbing them against his sleeve before putting them back on. “Did you say a wife?”
“Wouldn’t you like to have a wife?” Caroline asked.
Not sure why she’d brought the subject up, Henry proceeded cautiously. “Someday. But I thought this whole discussion was to keep me from having a wife?”
“No,” Christa cut in. “It’s to keep you from having Priscilla Janson for a wife. But Phebe is a whole other matter.” She gave Henry’s hand a quick pat. “And Mr. Janson can’t expect you to marry Priscilla if you already have a wife, can he?”
Henry frowned as he tried to keep up with the conversation and at the same time conjure up a face to go with the name Phebe. He finally decided to do the logical thing and address the issues one at a time, starting with the unknown woman. “I don’t believe I know a Phebe.” He looked at Caroline. “Is she a relative of yours?”
His sister-in-law gave him a benign smile. “She will be soon.”
More confused than ever, Henry sent Caroline a wary look before glancing at his sister. “Why would Priscilla Janson think that I’ve suddenly acquired a wife?”
“Because that’s the best solution to your dilemma,” Adam broke in. “And to keeping your hide intact.” He took out his watch and nodded before snapping the case shut and replacing it in his vest pocket. Standing up, he held out a hand to his wife. “It’s almost time.”
When both the women in the room got to their feet, Henry did as well, going through the polite motion while his mind went completely blank. It sounded very much as if his family were expecting him to marry a complete stranger.
Phebe's Promise (The Alphabet Mail-Order Brides Book 16) Page 2
