He waited until they were both seated before running a hand through his already messy blond hair, making several strands stand on end. “Before I explain about Priscilla, I just want you to know that the land and supplies are yours, no matter what you decide about marrying me.”
Despite the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Phebe managed a nod. When Henry fell silent, she sighed and folded her hands in front of her. “It might be best if you started with telling me why Miss Janson is under the impression that the two of you are engaged?”
Blowing out a breath, Henry sat up a bit straighter before launching into the story of being manipulated into taking her to a ranch outside the city, and then becoming stranded on the road for most of the night with a horse that had gone lame. When he’d finished off in an indignant tone, stating that he’d ended up walking most of the way back to town to escape her company in the carriage, Phebe’s lips began to twitch.
Clearly it hadn’t been a pleasant experience for poor Henry!
“What did she talk about so much?” Phebe asked once Henry had wound down and taken a sip of his coffee.
He shrugged, and that adorably bewildered expression was back on his face. “Fashions, as I recall. She simply started talking and didn’t stop the whole night.”
Completely satisfied with that answer, Phebe smiled. Hadn’t Madam Wigg told her that one of the “signs” she should look for to be sure that the intended groom was really interested in her was if he listened to what she said? Clearly Henry had no interest in Priscilla at all.
“Thank you for your explanation.” Phebe stared into her coffee mug for a moment. She peeked over at Henry, who looked as if he were waiting to be executed. Smiling to herself, Phebe raised her head. “Have I told you yet why I need to look for my father and brother?”
Henry blinked several times as he adjusted his glasses more firmly on his nose. “Um . . . I assumed it was because you’ve never met them?”
Phebe nodded. “That’s true. But mostly it’s because I promised my mother I would.”
That had Henry looking thoroughly confused. “I thought you said that your mother had died in childbirth?”
“She did,” Phebe confirmed. “I made the promise to my angel mother.” She wrapped her hands more firmly around her coffee mug, appreciating the warmth against her skin. “I talk to her quite often.”
“I understand that.” When Phoebe gave a start of surprise, Henry smiled at her. “I also talk to my parents, even though they’ve both been gone for years. They died in the War Between the States, trying to bring my grandparents to New York.” His hand reached up to rub the back of his neck. “I always feel them encouraging me when I’m close to finding a solution for one of my inventions.” He looked over at her with a sheepish grin. “I can also hear them laughing when I accidentally blow something up.”
She almost choked on a sip of her coffee. “Blow something up?” She studied him for a long moment, a warning tingle creeping up her spine. “Do you do that sort of thing often?”
“Often enough, I guess.”
Henry’s shoulder lifted in a definite sign of not being much concerned about it, which had Phebe chewing on her lower lip.
“Adam thinks the neighbors are planning on running me out of town. Which is one of the reasons I want to leave.”
Wondering if Henry might inadvertently blow up her new school, Phebe drew in a quick breath. “So you can safely blow things up?”
He laughed. “No, no. For more space. Much of the problem has been a lack of adequate space. It’s obvious that a shed in the back of the garden simply won’t do. And both of my siblings objected to me finding a house of my own, or even a small place outside of town. They didn’t like the idea of me being alone.”
Picturing the shattered shed, Phebe had to agree with Adam and Christa. Henry being completely on his own was not a good idea. In fact, she was sure her basic knowledge of dealing with cuts, scrapes, and other minor injuries would come in very handy if she were to marry Henry. She thought it over for a moment. It still didn’t seem that a misunderstanding over an engagement, and a few destroyed sheds, were reason enough for Henry to get married. Feeling there was still more she needed to hear, Phebe set her coffee mug down and once more folded her hands in front of her.
“More space isn’t the only reason you need to get married, is it, Henry?”
Instantly dropping his gaze back to his coffee mug, Henry’s shoulders hunched inward. “No. Having a wife would be most . . .” He paused, obviously searching for a word. “Useful.” When Phebe continued to stare at him, he finally sighed. “Priscilla’s father wants to force the issue of marriage with his daughter.”
“Ah.” Finally understanding, Phebe silently thought it over for a moment. “Already having a wife would put an end to that?”
“Caroline, Christa, and Adam seem sure of it.”
The clear apology in Henry’s tone was what made Phebe’s mind up. Honesty, and a bit of humbleness, would be valuable traits in a husband. And she could deal with his tendency to blow things up. She’d just make sure he did his work far away from the children and her school.
“What do you think, Henry?”
His head snapped up and his gaze found hers. “I find it an acceptable solution. And a logical one.”
Not the most romantic answer, but it would do.
“All right.” Phebe laid her hands on the table and pushed herself to her feet. “If the arrangements can be made for tomorrow, I’d like to be on our way to this land you’ve purchased for us.” When Henry only gaped at her, she smiled. “Shall we look over the supplies?”
Chapter 8
It was still early the following morning when Phebe sat calmly on the side of the four-poster bed in the room she’d been sleeping in the two nights since she’d set foot in San Francisco. The clock hadn’t yet struck seven when Christa had come sailing into her chamber unannounced, carrying a tray laden with food, a coffeepot, and several cups stacked one on top of the other. Caroline had come in right behind her, smiling at their startled houseguest as the two women proceeded to set the tray in front of Phebe and then had made themselves comfortable on either side of her, sipping coffee and laying out the plans for the day.
Her wedding day.
Phebe was still struggling to get used to the notion, but kept her emotions safely inside as she watched Caroline bend over a jewelry box she’d set on the small writing desk and pick through the elegant jumble of shiny metal and precious stones. Christa had a similar box on her lap. She held up a pendant with a large diamond in its center, hanging from an intricately woven gold chain.
“Here, this one would go wonderfully with that gown, if we can persuade you to wear it.” She smiled and swung the necklace back and forth from her fingertips.
The gorgeous ivory dress, covered in the most delicate lace Phebe had ever seen, had literally made her gasp in amazement when Caroline had held it up before Phebe as she’d stood in front of the tall mirror in the corner of the room. Now the elegant dress was draped over the coverlet next to her, and Phebe couldn’t resist reaching out and gently stroking the beautiful lace as she dutifully studied the necklace in Christa’s hand.
“It would.” Phebe had to agree the pendant was certainly perfect for the dress. But as lovely as the garment and the necklace were, they simply weren’t right for her.
She moved her hand away from the lace to smooth down the much coarser cotton of the crimson gown she’d put on earlier that morning. It was the nicest dress she owned. It had come in one of the donation boxes dropped off at the orphanage several years ago. But it had been a splotchy, faded yellow then, and the red-colored dye had been the only one she’d managed to forage in the laundry supplies that was plentiful enough to evenly cover a full-skirted gown with long sleeves.
Madam Wigg had declared it a lovely color, and even sat and supervised as Phebe carefully went through the process of creating a new dress from someone else’s castoff. While it ce
rtainly couldn’t compare to the lovely creation Caroline and Christa had urged her to wear, it still was something that had come from the place she’d called home, and been approved by the woman who’d stood in as her mother all her life.
It might not have been a conventional wedding gown, but it made Phebe feel as if Madam Wigg and her friends were with her on her wedding day. In her mind, that made it the perfect dress.
Christa lowered the necklace back into the large wooden box on her lap. “I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t wear this diamond either. Far too much glitter. It wouldn’t suit either of us. More in Lillian and Ammie’s style.”
Surprised, Phebe gave the outspoken Christa a puzzled look. “You don’t like that necklace? It’s beautiful.”
The petite blond shook her head and then shrugged. “It was a gift from my grandfather. He liked that kind of obvious show of wealth.” She grinned at Phebe. “You have a much quieter way about you. You’re well suited for Henry.” She started rummaging deeper in her box. “Which reminds me, there is something in here that you should have.”
Thinking of the room full of supplies for her school, and the land she’d been told about, Phebe wasn’t at all comfortable accepting any more gifts from the Frommer family. They’d been more than generous in keeping to their part of the bargain. Hoping to distract Christa, she raised her voice a little to regain the woman’s attention.
“Who are Lillian and Ammie?”
“Lillian Jamison is Ammie’s aunt, and you’ll meet Ammie Mayes in a bit. She and her husband, Ethan, are coming to the wedding.”
That name sounded familiar. Phebe searched her memory and saw a picture of a sign over the entrance to a stable. “Mayes? Does her husband own the stable and stockyard where the supplies are being stored?”
Christa’s head popped up and her lips curved into a smile. “He does. Ammie is a good friend. She helped come up with the plan that allowed Caroline to capture Adam.”
“I didn’t capture him,” Caroline immediately protested.
“He says you did.” Christa wiggled her eyebrows, then grinned.
Enjoying the same type of banter she’d been used to growing up with dozens of women, Phebe nodded and tapped a slender finger against her chin. “I seem to recall him saying that very thing last night at dinner.”
Turning her grin toward Phebe, Christa winked. “Yes, he did. I’m sure he used the word capture.” She lifted her hand and held it out. A necklace with a single pearl was nestled in her palm. “You should wear this. It belonged to our mother, and it should go to Henry’s wife.” She nodded before adding with a soft smile, “And someday your daughter.”
Daughter? Phebe blinked. She hadn’t even considered the children she and Henry might have. That is, if he wanted to have children. With her.
“Oh, he will.” Caroline’s voice brought Phebe out of her own thoughts.
“What?”
“He will,” Caroline repeated as her eyebrows drew together. “Didn’t you ask Henry if he wants to have children? That’s certainly an important thing to know before you marry someone.”
Completely unaware that she’d voiced the thought out loud, Phebe felt the heat rise in her face. It only made Caroline look even more concerned. She turned away from the writing desk as she continued to stare at Phebe.
“I don’t mean to embarrass you, but given that your mother isn’t here with you on your wedding day, I have to ask if you know what happens between a man and a woman that results in a child?”
“What?” Realizing she sounded like one of those parrots in the penny-press pirate stories she’d read to her students on occasion, Phebe closed her mouth and took in a deep breath. She didn’t think it was a subject that was suitable to talk about in front of the unmarried Christa. But on the other hand, there seemed to be very little these women didn’t discuss.
“During my time as a teacher, I’ve had the opportunity to read many kinds of books,” Phebe said, carefully choosing her words. “A number of them on science and biology.” Madam Wigg had also been sure she’d been made thoroughly aware of what the headmistress had called “what was what in a marriage,” but Phebe had no desire to offer that tidbit of information.
Caroline looked relieved when she nodded. “That’s good. I’m sure Henry will be a wonderful husband.”
“And know how to go about everything,” Christa chimed in, ignoring the exasperated look from Caroline. “If he doesn’t, you can be assured he has a book to help him along.”
“A book?” Phebe gaped at Henry’s sister. “So you don’t think he knows . . .” She stumbled to a stop, not sure what to say.
Christa waved a hand in the air. “Oh, I’m sure he knows. Adam would have seen to that. But whenever Henry isn’t sure about something, he simply consults a book. And I’m sure he’s bought one to tell him how to get on in a marriage.”
“What?” Caroline and Phebe said in unison.
Caroline stood and put her hands on her hips. “What are you talking about, Christa Frommer?”
Too stunned to get anything else coherent out, Phebe got to her feet and crossed her arms as she stared back at Christa.
Christa immediately grinned. “Well, the two of you certainly look like you’re related.” When Caroline gave a snort, Christa laughed. “I caught Henry as he was coming into the house with a book under his arm. I asked him what he’d bought this time, and he turned bright red and told me it wasn’t any of my business.” She shook her head as she laughed even harder. “Not Henry-like at all. He usually can’t wait to share his books.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Caroline admitted. She sent a sympathetic smile toward Phebe. “I’m sure it will all sort itself out. And if you ever want to talk anything over, have Henry bring you right back here so we can have a cozy chat among the sisters.”
The kind words had Phebe’s eyes welling up. She ducked her head as she fought to get her emotions under control. She’d been sure she’d left all her sisters-of-the-heart back in New York, and was overwhelmed to suddenly feel as if she’d found two more.
Phebe finally lifted her head and managed a watery smile for the two women who were looking back at her with so much understanding in their gazes. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate both of your friendships, and how much your family is doing for me.”
“Oh, Phebe.” Christa rushed forward and wrapped her arms around Phebe’s slender frame. “You’ve fulfilled our dreams.” Keeping one arm circling Phebe’s waist, Christa turned to smile at Caroline. “My wonderful sister-in-law has been wanting to start a place for children who have nowhere else to go and no one to turn to, and I’ve always wished for someone to come along who would make Henry happy.” She turned her head and nodded. “Henry is the kindest of souls, and he deserves to be happy.”
Phebe bit her lip. Simply watching him yesterday, being so solicitous to Kate, and doing his best not to embarrass or hurt Priscilla’s feelings, had already convinced her that Henry had a good heart. So good that maybe he was agreeing to go through with the wedding because he felt sorry for her being alone in the world.
She liked him. A lot. And it surprised her that she had no objections to marrying someone she hardly knew. But she didn’t want to become his wife out of pity. “Do you really think he wants to marry me?”
“Most definitely.” The sureness in Caroline’s tone helped silence Phebe’s doubts.
“Absolutely,” Christa agreed. “Before you arrived, he wasn’t keen on the idea at all. And if I know my brother, he was busy devising a way to avoid the whole thing. But since he’s laid eyes on you . . .” Christa looked over at Caroline and smiled.
“He hasn’t mentioned one word about putting off or not having a wedding,” Caroline finished Christa’s sentence as she walked over and joined the other two in a group hug. “He wants to marry you.”
“I would agree with that,” Christa said.
A movement caught Phebe’s attention, and she peeked between Caroline and Christa.
Her eyes went wide at the sight of the woman standing in the bedchamber’s open doorway. The dark-haired beauty with striking turquoise eyes tilted her head to one side, an amused smile on her lips. “If the bride-to-be is somewhere in that tangle, I apologize for bursting in this way, but apparently you were all too occupied to hear my knock.”
Christa quickly unwound her arms, then crossed the room to give the new arrival a fierce hug. “Ammie! When did you get here?”
“Not long ago. I’ve been downstairs trying to keep your anxious brother calm.” She looked over at Caroline with a rueful smile. “Although I suspect the whiskey Adam offered him will do the trick.”
Caroline rolled her eyes heavenward. “Whiskey? At this hour of the morning?”
“He needs a whiskey to keep calm?” Phebe’s heart sank. That couldn’t be a good thing.
“No. He needs whiskey to keep from leaping up the stairs and dragging you down in front of the minister.” Ammie walked forward and held out her hand. “Hello. I’m Amelia Mayes. And you must be Phebe?”
“Our manners have deserted us.” Caroline laughed. She glanced at Phebe and inclined her head toward her friend. “Phebe, this is Amelia. She’s Ethan’s wife and a good friend of the entire family, including Adam and Henry.” She switched her gaze to Ammie. “And this is indeed Phebe Wigg. And we were just telling her the same thing. That Henry is very happy to be marrying her.”
Still tongue-tied over meeting someone who looked like a princess from a fairy tale, Phebe barely managed to nod her head in greeting to Ammie.
“We were also warning Phebe about Henry’s tendency to get all his information from books.”
Ammie laughed, making her brilliantly colored eyes sparkle even more. “That is true. The best marriage advice I can offer is that if he ever does or says something that puzzles you, ask to see the book he got it from.” She winked at Phebe. “It might help explain a lot.”
Phebe's Promise (The Alphabet Mail-Order Brides Book 16) Page 6
