Henry kept his gaze firmly on the woman standing in front of him. The last thing he wanted was for her to upset or embarrass Phebe, and from the look in Priscilla’s pale-blue eyes, that was exactly what she meant to do. When his self-declared fiancée stepped to the side, Henry moved to block her so Phebe wouldn’t see the glare Priscilla was sending in her direction.

Thwarted in her efforts to get a clear view of Henry’s companion, Priscilla straightened her back and turned her narrow-eyed stare on Henry.

“I’m surprised to see you here.” Her gaze darted to her left and then right before her lips curled up into a stiff smile. “But very happy, of course.”

She lowered her lashes and took another quick look around the room. Inching her smile up another notch, Priscilla lifted her head and raised her voice just enough to be heard at the surrounding tables. “I was hoping we could plan more outings together now that you’ve had time to shop for a ring.” She let out a dramatic sigh while fluttering her lashes. “I so appreciate you insisting on giving me a token of your affection, but I have missed you.”

Not wanting to hurt her by making a public scene, but unwilling to be manipulated into an engagement he’d never agreed to, Henry leaned forward slightly and kept his voice low so it wouldn’t go beyond the two of them. “Priscilla, we’ve never had—”

“I was about to do some shopping of my own,” she declared, talking right over him. “Isn’t it fortunate I stopped for some refreshment and happened to run into you?” She lowered her eyes again, putting on a display of modest shyness that Henry knew very good and well she’d probably never felt in her life. “Or perhaps you knew I’d be here today?”

“How would I ever have known—” Henry started, then abruptly stopped when she reached out as if she were going to lay a hand on his arm. He jumped back in alarm, his legs bumping against the table, which rattled a warning at the sudden movement.

Thinking he might have to rescue Phebe from their hot tea splashing all over her, he began to turn in her direction but was stopped by a hand latching on to his arm and giving it a solid jerk. Henry looked down at the fingers that were digging into his skin, then up at Priscilla, whose stare was now fixed on Phebe.

“Have you brought one of your relatives to meet me?”

When Priscilla looked Phebe up and down as if she were some strange creature she’d never seen before, Henry’s blood began a slow boil. Unfamiliar with the feeling, he blinked behind the lenses of his glasses. Reaching down, he deliberately pried Priscilla’s hand off his arm before looking over at Phebe.

She was sitting quietly, her hands folded in her lap. Her calm smile soothed his agitated nerves until he felt something like himself again. Clasping his own hands behind his back to keep them out of Priscilla’s reach, he nodded at Phebe.

“Phebe, this is Priscilla Janson. Her father and Adam had some business dealings.” Henry deliberately made it sound as if his brother’s association with Priscilla’s family was in the past. Since manners dictated he had little other choice, Henry reluctantly turned his gaze toward the woman standing next to him. “Miss Janson,” Henry began, making sure he kept to a formal address for Priscilla, “this is Phebe Wigg.”

Before Henry could say another word, Priscilla cut across him again.

“A relative from back East, I presume? How charming.” Priscilla tilted her head to one side, making the curled tendrils around her face shift across her forehead. “Have you been visiting here long? Where are you from?”

“New York City, Miss Janson,” Phebe answered with a polite smile.

“Really?” Priscilla’s head dropped even farther to one side. “My, the fashions have certainly become a bit plainer there than I would have expected.”

Her remark drew a snicker from a nearby table, which made Henry’s back stiffen.

“I’m sure I could never look as charming as you do, Miss Janson.”

Phebe’s quiet response had a smug sneer settling on Priscilla’s face. Having had enough of the whole exchange, Henry took a step closer to the table and laid a hand on Phebe’s shoulder, which brought a collective gasp from around the room.

“Phebe and I are betrothed.” Henry stopped there, thinking that was all that needed to be said. When Priscilla’s openmouthed stare immediately dropped to Phebe’s hands and then snapped back up to Henry, he could feel the heat climbing up his neck.

“I just heard the news myself.” Kate bustled up, wiping her hands on her apron as she kept a wide smile on Phebe. “I came to see if you wanted anything else before you went shopping.” She looked over at Henry and winked. “And you be sure to bring your lovely bride-to-be right back so I can properly admire the ring you’re going to buy for her.”

Kate gave a slight start as if she’d just noticed the fuming woman standing right next to Henry. “Why, hello, Priscilla. I didn’t realize you were here or I’d have found you a table right away.” Kate did a slow study of the crowded room. “I see a lovely one right by the back window.” The stocky hostess deftly stepped between Henry and Priscilla, and all but pushed the society miss away from Henry. “Let’s get you seated, then. I’ll bring you some tea straightaway.”

Sighing with relief, Henry sat down again, wincing at the slight wobble and loud creak from his chair. Not at all sure what to say to Phebe, he stared at the miniature cake on the equally small plate in front of him. She deserved some sort of explanation for why Priscilla believed he was engaged to her, but for the life of him, Henry couldn’t come up with the right words. What would Phebe think about him spending a long night on a deserted road with Priscilla Janson? Maybe she’d want to beg off their whole arrangement, and Henry couldn’t blame her if she did.

Of course, he didn’t really need to get married. He’d said as much to Adam, hadn’t he? Henry’s brow furrowed as he thought back to the conversations with his brother and sister, but he couldn’t remember exactly what he’d said then. He was just certain he’d never uttered that particular sentiment since he’d met Phebe.

Miserable with his own thoughts, Henry continued to stare down at his plate. A voice penetrated the barrier he often put up between himself and the distractions of the outside world.

“Henry?” Phebe barely managed to hold back an exasperated sigh. She’d tried to get Henry’s attention three times now, and he still wouldn’t look up from whatever it was he found so fascinating on his plate of food.

The encounter with Priscilla Janson had been unnerving, and it had been all Phebe could do to sit calmly through the woman’s pointed jabs. Especially when Henry hadn’t said anything to deflect them. At least not until he’d declared that he was engaged to her, and not Priscilla.

That had certainly done the trick to stun the woman into silence. And Kate had played her part as well. While she was happy to have Priscilla sitting on the far side of the room, Phebe still wasn’t comfortable with all the sideways glances, and a few outright stares, still directed at her.

“Henry?” Phebe tried again, putting more force into her voice. That seemed to do the trick since Henry finally raised his head and looked at her. “If we want to get anything accomplished today, perhaps it would be best if we got started?”

“Started?” Henry frowned as he adjusted his glasses in an absentminded gesture that Phebe inexplicably found boyishly charming.

“Looking over the supplies?” she offered helpfully. And finding someplace quiet to talk, she added to herself. While she’d appreciated Henry’s public declaration of their engagement, it was obvious that Priscilla believed Henry was already betrothed to her. Since it wasn’t likely the society miss had pulled that notion out of thin air, Phebe thought she’d better get to the bottom of the matter. After all, they couldn’t both marry Henry Frommer.

Satisfied that her practical side would prevail over the jolt of pain she’d felt when Priscilla had baldly announced that she and Henry were to be married, Phebe took one look at her fiancé’s blank gaze and shook her head. Taking matters into her own hands, she stood up, then waited patiently for Henry to understand her silent message and do the same.

She almost smiled when he scrambled to his feet, but managed to retain the calm expression she’d plastered on her face from the minute Priscilla Janson had intruded upon their private tea. She looked around until she spotted Kate near the entrance, keeping an eagle eye on the guests in her bustling tea shop.

“Let’s say our goodbyes to Kate and then we can be on our way.”

Henry silently nodded and stepped around the table to pull her chair out a bit farther. Phebe smiled her approval before moving off in Kate’s direction, hoping Henry had the presence of mind to follow her.

Ten minutes later, they were in the carriage and winding their way through the city. Phebe took in the colorful sights of the crowded boardwalks running along the fronts of every type of shop she could imagine. From her vantage point, the whole city looked like a younger version of New York. Except for the glimpses of the sparkling bay, of course, with its tree-covered hills on the opposite side.

It looked so inviting, Phebe hoped she’d have a chance to take a ferry there and enjoy the undeniable allure of it all. The train ride was the first time she’d been out of New York, and Phebe had been astounded at the rugged beauty of the land west of the Rocky Mountains. It seemed as if everything were bigger and bolder out here. It made her feel more alive and intimidated all at the same time.

Suddenly the carriage came to a halt. “Here we are.”

Phebe looked around at the tall building with the large open doorway and a sign stating Mayes’ Stockyard. She raised a questioning brow at Henry. “Mayes?”

“Ethan Mayes,” Henry said as he tied off the reins. “He’s a friend of the family and one of the best trackers around.”

Not at all familiar with the term, Phebe frowned as she scooted across the seat. “What is a tracker?”

Henry reached up to help her from the carriage, waiting until her feet were firmly on the ground before he smiled at her. “Ethan finds things.”

Still not understanding, Phebe stared back at him. “What sort of things?”

“Oh, animals and people, mostly.” Henry shrugged. “He often works with Adam and Jesse. And sometimes Evan, whenever he’s in town.”

“Evan?”

“He’s a deputy in Sacramento.”

Remembering she’d passed through that town on her way to San Francisco, Phebe nodded. “I thought your brother was a businessman? That’s what Jesse said.”

“He is,” Henry said absently as he guided her into the stable. “Among other things.”

“Oh.” Wondering just how many stories she’d have to drag out of Henry, Phebe put her confusion aside for the moment when they entered the large building. Rafters crisscrossed high over their heads as Henry led her toward the back. Rows of horses stared over the ropes blocking the entrances to their stalls, following the couple’s movement over the rough wooden floors covered in straw. Phebe lifted her skirt and stepped as carefully as she could, being mindful of exactly where she put her feet. Henry opened a door near the back of the stable and moved aside to allow her to enter first.

The room was big, with several other doors leading off it, and a potbellied stove in one corner. Henry went to stand in front of the stove before he looked at her over his shoulder.

“Do you like coffee? I’m afraid Ethan’s taste doesn’t run toward tea.”

“Henry, why are we here?”

He lifted an empty mug and pointed it at a closed door on the far side of the room. “I believe we wanted to look over the supplies? They’re being stored back there.” He quickly filled two mugs and brought them to a table with primitively made benches lining each side. “I also thought it would be a quiet place for us to talk.”

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?”