The rest of the afternoon passed in a frenzy of activity. While Henry and Jake directed the men in setting up the loft of the barn as a makeshift bedroom for all the children, Phebe welcomed their newest additions. When Martha and Micah marched everyone the quarter mile to the lake to take baths, Phebe took the opportunity to dig through the crates to get shoes and whatever else was needed.

After they all returned, wrapped securely in blankets, she handed out the clean clothes, along with a hug here and a warm word of praise there. As the children admired each other’s new attire, Phebe stood off to one side with Martha, watching their new charges smile for the first time since Old Ben had lifted them out of the wagon.

The grizzled miner with the long white beard, ambled over to where the women were standing. He snatched his hat off and stood holding it in both hands as he peered at Phebe. “Looks like they’ll be all right here.”

Smiling at the elderly man’s gruff approval, Phebe nodded her thanks. “You’re welcome to stay for supper, and the night if you’d like.”

Old Ben shook his head. “No, thankee, ma’am. I need to be gitting back to my stake.” He looked over at his wagon while he shuffled his feet.

“You got somethin’ to say, Ben?” Martha asked. “Yer actin’ peculiar.”

Ben glared at her with his one good eye. “I ain’t doin’ nothin’ of the sort. I jest got a question for Miz Phebe, and I’m workin’ up to it.”

Phebe clasped her hands in front of her and put on her calm expression. “You take your time, Ben. I’m not in any hurry.”

“I know two other kids.” He gestured toward the small gaggle of bodies, where one of the little girls was twirling about in the center. “Jest like them. No ma or pa. But . . .” He trailed off as his fingers played along the brim of his hat.

“But what?” Martha demanded. “Why didn’t you bring ’em along?”

He shrugged as he went back to staring at Phebe. “I had to check first. I didn’t want to git their hopes up if’n you don’t want them.”

Phebe’s brow furrowed as she tried to imagine why Ben would think they wouldn’t want the children. “Why wouldn’t we? If they’re sick, we can take care of them.”

“They got somethin’ all right, but you cain’t fix ’em.” Ben’s hat twisted around faster in his hands. “One got burnt in a fire and is hard to look at, and the other one is lame. Needs a crutch to git around.” He looked Phebe right in the eye. “I need to know if yer willin’ to take on kids like that.”

Straightening her spine as she thought of Emmeline, Phebe stared back at Ben. Her fellow teacher at the orphanage was losing her sight, and was likely facing a life of blindness. But she was hardly useless. Emmeline had a gift for music that was beyond any even Madam Wigg had ever heard.

Feeling she’d be dishonoring their friendship if she turned away any child for such a paltry reason as a physical flaw, Phebe put her hands on her hips and impatiently tapped one foot against the ground. “It doesn’t make any difference. They’re as welcome here as everyone else.”

The old man let out a long breath before his lips ratcheted slowly up into a smile. “That’s good. I’ll gather ’em up and bring ’em to my place. You come git ‘em when you can.” He plopped his hat back on his head, then pointed at Martha. “She knows where it is.”

“We’ll be there soon,” Phebe promised.

Apparently satisfied, Ben headed directly for his wagon as Martha poked Phebe in the arm.

“We’ll be there? You plannin’ on goin’ with me?”

“I thought I might.” Phebe glanced at her friend. “We can take one of the men with us.”

“You ain’t thinkin’ of askin’ around about that pa and brother you told me about, are you?” Martha shook her head. “It won’t do no good.”

“Probably not, but I need to try, Martha. I made a promise.”

The older woman snorted out loud. “Yer ma would understand. And I’m thinkin’ yer husband won’t like you takin’ off with jest me and another man. So yer goin’ to have to talk to him about it first.” She leaned forward until her nose was only a foot away from Phebe’s face. “And that ain’t the only thing you got to talk to him about.”

Once supper was taken care of, Jake, Martha, Phebe, and Henry gathered around the small table in the cabin. They stared at the drawing Phebe had made and went over the work planned for the next day. Happy with the progress, and all her new charges, Phebe enthusiastically nodded as Henry explained how he wanted the addition to the cabin to be laid out. Finally, Martha interrupted him with a big yawn as she stretched her arms over her head.

“I’m tuckered out. Think I’ll be headin’ to bed.”

Phebe smiled. “Are you sure you’ll be all right in the barn?”

“Better’n sleeping under the wagon with those kids bangin’ over my head all night. And I can still keep an eye on ’em.” She rose and walked over to the pegs near the door. She’d left her gun there, leaning against the wall. She picked it up and cradled it in her arms the way she usually carried it, and nodded at the others. “G’night.”

“Wait up there, Martha. I’ll walk over with you to look in on the kids before I check on the horses.” Jake strode across the room and lifted his hat off one of the pegs before he followed Martha out the door.

Left alone with her husband, Phebe nervously gathered her shawl more tightly around her shoulders.

Henry slowly rolled up their map and retied the string around its middle before handing it to Phebe. “We’ll take another look at it in the morning.”

When he rose from the chair, Phebe knew he intended to leave her alone again. Before he had a chance to turn away, she summoned up every bit of courage she had. “Henry, I’d like to talk to you if you can stay for a few more minutes.”

Much to her relief, he immediately sat back down again. “Of course. Is anything wrong?”

“Yes,” Phebe blurted out. “I mean, I was wondering . . .” She stopped again, not at all certain how to ask him why he was avoiding her bed.

He reached across the table and took one of her hands in his. “It’s all right, Phebe. Whatever it is, we can fix it.” He smiled. “And if we can’t, I brought enough books with me I’m sure we can find a solution in one of them.” He glanced at the rolled map that she’d set down on the table. “Is it the house? We can change it any way you’d like.”

Phebe blinked several times, then pursed her lips together. Books .  Suddenly she could hear Christa describing how Henry wouldn’t show her a book he’d bought right after she’d arrived in San Francisco. And that recollection was followed by Ammie’s words. If he ever does something that puzzles you, ask to see the book he got it from.

“Henry, did you buy a book about marriage?” Even as she felt herself blush, Phebe kept her voice calm and her gaze on her husband.

“A book on marriage?”

When his gaze dropped to the table, Phebe gave in and rolled her eyes. Of course he had. He looked like he’d been caught stealing a piece of licorice from the local mercantile. Exasperated that she hadn’t thought of it sooner, Phebe rose and placed her hands on the table. “I’d like to see this book.”

Henry’s gaze flew to hers. “I’m not sure that would be at all appropriate.”

She certainly wasn’t going to allow him to get away with that. “If it’s giving marital advice, then I might like a little as well. Didn’t you say the power in a book is when it’s shared?” Smiling sweetly, she leaned over the table until her mouth was close to his. “Please?”

Henry lurched forward as his hand flashed out and cupped the side of her cheek. Without hesitating, he laid his lips on hers and kissed her until she broke it off with a gasp.

“I really need to see that book, Henry.”

Without another word, he jumped out of his chair and ran toward the door, not even bothering to shut it behind him. Startled by the sudden haste of his exit, Phebe settled back into her chair as her mouth curved up at the corners. Madam Wigg was right. A little sweet worked very well on husbands.

Henry flew into the cabin less than five minutes later, his chest still heaving from undoubtedly running all the way to the wagon and back. He unceremoniously tossed a thin book onto the table.

“There it is. And I assure you, I’ve been following it to the letter.”

“Have you?” Phebe murmured. She pulled the book toward her and opened it to the beginning of the first chapter. She read quickly and silently as Henry stood by, his hands behind his back as he watched her.

When she came to the section directing the new husband to leave his bride alone on their wedding night to allow her time to “adjust,” she shook her head. She skipped to the page Henry had left a bookmark in. After several moments, she looked up at him.

“A proper bed?” She glanced down at the page. “This says ‘You should never approach your wife unless there is a proper bed.’”

Her husband cleared his throat and rocked back on his heels. “Well, yes. Reb is going to bring a mattress back with the rest of the supplies, and one of the men has already started on a bed frame.” He pushed his spectacles farther up his nose. “It should all be ready by the end of the week. Do you think you’ll be adjusted to your new situation by then?”

His voice had such a hopeful note in it that Phebe almost laughed. Instead, she got to her feet and dropped her shawl onto the back of the chair before walking over to stand in front of him. Looping her arms around his neck, she smiled into her husband’s astonished eyes.

“I’m perfectly adjusted right now, Mr. Frommer.”

“Phebe, we don’t have—”

She cut him off with a quick kiss. “Yes, we do.”

“But it’s very small. And I—”

Phebe tried another kiss, then smiled when he finally wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly against his chest. She quickly lost herself in the kiss, and was sorely disappointed when Henry raised his head.

He lifted his hand and ran his knuckles down the side of her face. “I think maybe we should come up with our own advice, Mrs. Frommer.”

Phebe could only nod, and then let out a gasp when he bent at the knees and swept her up into his arms.

“I believe that this is the proper way to start a wedding night.” Henry laughed and kissed her again as he carried her away, closing the door of the bedchamber with his foot.