It had taken Thomas, their stableman, less than a quarter hour to bring around the carriage. Phebe was surprised when she saw a smaller buggy than the one she’d ridden in the night before waiting outside. It would only seat two people comfortably, and she was sure the enforced coziness had been Christa’s idea.

Phebe cautiously waited to see what Henry would say about it, and finally let out the breath she’d been holding when he held out a hand to assist her up the tall step without a murmur of protest. As she smoothed her skirt out, he took the driver’s seat. Phebe couldn’t help but go rigid until she was sure that Henry wouldn’t have them galloping through the streets, or turning over as they negotiated the lower part of the steep hill the house was located on.

She experienced a twinge of guilt for doubting Henry’s skill with a horse and carriage, but from the little she had seen of him, she felt those doubts were justified. The man didn’t seem overly concerned with the more practical side of life.

As Henry guided the mare through the crowded streets, the silence in the carriage wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but Phebe couldn’t seem to relax either. She tried to come up with several polite topics that would be suitable conversation for a tea, but her mind kept roving to the one thing that was her biggest concern. Did Henry even want to get married? It struck her that he didn’t have any reason to marry a complete stranger and go off to live in the mountains near the mining country. So why had he agreed to it?

“Are you cold?”

Startled at having her thoughts interrupted, Phebe managed a brief shake of her head. “No. I’m fine, thank you.” She searched for something else to say, her mouth curving into a smile when she felt the warmth of the sun on her face. “I’m enjoying the weather here. It’s certainly different from the cold and rain in New York at this time of year.”

“Not surprising. San Francisco is three degrees’ latitude south of New York.” Henry kept his gaze on the horse as he guided the buggy through the crowded streets. “That comes out to two hundred and seven miles further south.” He glanced at her with a sheepish smile. “Approximately.”

She laughed. “Approximately, Mr. Frommer? That seems very precise to me.”

“I have several books on world geography, if you’re interested.” Henry smiled as he warmed up to the subject. “This country spans over twenty-five degrees of latitude. Of course, we haven’t finished growing yet, so it may end up being a much greater area than what we see now. I’ve found that—” he abruptly stopped speaking. His cheeks stained red as he kept his eyes looking straight ahead. “Yes, well. That is to say, the country is rather large, with different weather depending on where you are.”

Phebe’s brown eyes crinkled at the corners. “I also have read quite a few books, Mr. Frommer. I am a teacher after all.”

Henry’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “Yes. I haven’t had a chance yet to see what books Caroline and Christa bought on your behalf. I intend paying a visit to the storage area and look over all the supplies. I might have a suggestion or two.” He turned his head and blinked several times behind the lenses of his glasses. “Although I’m positive that the list you sent of required texts and primers is more than adequate.”

Trying not to be distracted by the appealing way a thick lock of his blond hair had fallen across his forehead and over the top rim of his spectacles, Phebe smiled. “I’d like to hear your opinion. I wasn’t quite sure what to purchase for the more advanced students.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Do you think there will be some advanced students? Caroline said you wanted to gather the orphans of miners. I looked through several articles last night in a book about the gold rush. I was appalled to read that children, with or without parents, usually ended up working in the mines to survive. But that was a quarter century ago, and I’m not sure how much it applies to the silver mines today.”

“I’m sure it hasn’t changed,” Phebe said quietly. “The children need help, and an education. They shouldn’t be spending their childhoods in a dark hole in the earth.”

Now it was her turn to blink when he gave her an admiring look. Phebe couldn’t remember ever being on the receiving end of such a thing. She felt the heat race across her face.

“Educating our children, so that knowledge can continually be built upon, is the foundation of an advanced society, Miss Wigg.”

Phebe couldn’t argue with that, but it wasn’t her motive for starting the school. “An education and equal opportunity for everyone is essential, Mr. Frommer. Don’t you agree?” She held her breath. If Henry didn’t believe every child, no matter their circumstances, deserved an education, then she saw no point at all in going through with this marriage.

“I certainly agree. A good mind comes in bodies of all shapes, sizes, and circumstances, Miss Wigg, and every one of them should be educated.”

His answer came so easily that Phebe closed her eyes in relief. Henry Frommer sounded like a man who’d be willing to share his knowledge with anyone. The thought made her smile.

“How many books do you own?”

He shrugged, his surprisingly broad shoulders making a careless move up and down. “I’ve never actually counted them all, but I’d guess close to a thousand.”

A thousand? However would they get a thousand books up into the mountains?

“Do you have a particular set of them that you are most fond of?” Phebe ventured, not even one whit surprised when Henry shook his head.

“No. I find them all invaluable. You never know what sort of information you’ll need.” He suddenly grinned, charming Phebe with a mischievous wink. “Like how many degrees of latitude there are between New York and San Francisco.”

Phebe stared at him, keeping her hands clasped tightly in her lap so she wouldn’t reach up to brush that stray lock of hair off his forehead. “Yes, I suppose you never know.” She finally sighed and tried again. “It might be difficult to take that many books with us.”

“Perhaps, but we’ll find a way. We can put them on the train as far as Sacramento and then hire a few additional wagons.” He paused for a moment. “But Adam said I was to pick out only the most essential, and then he’d gradually ship the rest when we had a place to accommodate them.”

A few additional wagons for a thousand books? Phebe was certain they would have had to hire a whole caravan. Adam’s idea was certainly more practical.

“Why did you choose to come to California?” Henry blurted the question out, then immediately hunched his shoulders. “I’m sorry. That was probably too personal to ask.” He straightened up again and sucked in a deep breath. “I was wondering how your trip was.”

Since she wasn’t sure she wanted to confide any of her own reasons for coming so far west to Henry yet, Phebe happily accepted the sudden change in topic. “It was hard to leave my friends, of course, but the trip was quite comfortable. Jesse was enjoyable company to travel with.”

She frowned when Henry dropped his head and seemed to be looking at his shoes.

“Most of the ladies enjoy being around Jesse.”

When his gaze stayed glued to the floor of the carriage, Phebe smiled. Henry’s voice had held a clear note of dejection. The same note she’d often heard coming from her young male students when they were upset but too embarrassed to admit it. Fortunately, she’d had plenty of experience and could handle low spirits easily enough.

“He does have a gift for storytelling that helped pass the time. I found his conversation to be most --” she deliberately hesitated before adding, “--adequate.”

Henry’s head immediately popped up and turned in her direction. “Adequate?”

Phebe smiled calmly. “Yes.”

“Adequate. Not charming or engaging, but adequate.” Henry repeated the word, looking very pleased with it. Phebe kept her eyes forward and her lips pressed together, determined not to laugh as she diplomatically pretended not to notice how much more lighthearted he sounded.

“Ah. Here we are.” Henry let out a sigh as he pulled the flashy chestnut mare to a stop. He inclined his head toward a quaint-looking shop, with windows framed by blue shutters, and a white picket fence across the front. A sign proclaiming it as Kate’s Tea Shop hung over the door.

Holding his breath, Henry gingerly lowered himself onto the spindly chair, hoping the thing wouldn’t completely collapse underneath him. The ominous creak of wood had him wincing as Kate stood patiently waiting, a smile on her face. The short, sturdily built woman with hair as white as the large apron she was wearing tapped a finger lightly on the tabletop.

“I haven’t seen you in here in ages, Henry Frommer. How are Adam and Christa?”

“Fine, thank you.”

When Kate pointedly inclined her head toward Phebe, Henry frowned.

His blank stare had Kate rolling her eyes toward the ceiling in a clear bid at asking for divine help. “Henry, who is this lovely lady you’ve brought to the shop today?”

Henry’s mouth formed into an “O” as he finally caught on that he needed to remember his manners. “This is Phebe. I mean Miss Wigg.” He gave Phebe an apologetic smile. “Miss Wigg, this is Kate. She owns the shop.”

Kate shook her head at him before turning her smile on Phebe. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Wigg. Are you here visiting San Francisco?”

“Yes, ma’am. I mean, that is . . .”

Phebe looked to Henry, but he didn’t notice as he studied the delicate teacup sitting in front of him. He wondered if it would break the minute he picked it up. Finally catching Phebe’s hesitation, he absently put out his own answer to Kate’s question.

“Phebe and I are going to be married, and then we’ll be off for Lake Tahoe to start a school for orphans.” He looked up and smiled at Kate’s astonished face. “It’s something Caroline has always wanted to do, and so has Phebe. The whole thing worked out quite nicely, I think.”

“Why, yes. Um . . . nicely,” Kate stuttered out, her wide-eyed gaze bouncing between Henry and Phebe. “I’ll get your tea and something to nibble on.” She backed away, almost bumping into the next table before turning and running toward the kitchen.

Henry stared after her, wondering at her peculiar behavior. His gaze encountered that of an acquaintance sitting nearby, and he was surprised to see the man was staring back at him with his mouth wide open.

“Are you sure?”

Phebe’s voice was soft and didn’t carry far, but Henry heard her words well enough. Glad for the distraction, he turned his attention to her.

“About starting the orphanage? Of course. It will be a great adventure, and a noble one.”

Her brows drew together. “I believe so, but I was talking about getting married.” She took a quick look around before fixing her stare back on him. “You’ve just announced it to everyone here.”

The small shop, which had been completely silent for several moments, suddenly came alive with whispered conversations.

“Well, anyone who’s interested would have found out soon anyway. I’m sure Caroline intends to make some sort of announcement.” Henry scrunched his forehead as he gave it some thought. “Probably in the newspaper. I have no idea how such things are done.”

“No, Mr. Frommer. What I meant was, are you sure you want to get married?”

He blinked at her. She had a quiet kind of loveliness that had taken his breath away when he’d first seen her. Then he’d spied Jesse walking by her side. It had bothered him all through dinner; and lying awake in his bed through the night, he’d still seen the perfect picture the two of them had made together. Phebe’s calm demeanor, which had immediately drawn him to her, would be an excellent balance for the wild streak in Jesse.

He’d almost come to the conclusion he was certainly no match for his older brother’s charismatic friend. Almost. Until Phebe had said that Jesse’s company was “adequate.” Somehow that single word had changed everything.

“Of course. I believe that’s why you came, isn’t it? I mean, to get married and have help in starting your school?”

When Phebe fell silent, chewing on her bottom lip as she looked at him, Henry frowned. “Is there another reason?”

She looked down at her hands folded on top of the table and sighed. “If we’re going to be married, I feel we should be honest with each other.”

Not sure he liked the sound of that at all, Henry adjusted his glasses on his nose and braced himself. “All right.”

“The school for orphans is the most important reason I came,” Phebe began. “But there is another one.”

Definitely a little lost, Henry stuck with his previous answer. “All right.”

She looked at him and squared her shoulders. “My father and older brother came to California during the gold rush. My mother was carrying me at the time and couldn’t accompany them. She died in childbirth.” Phebe stopped there to draw in a ragged breath.

Not sure where all this was going, Henry reached across the small table and covered both her hands with one of his. “I’m sorry. I know what it’s like to lose both your parents.”

Phebe nodded and drew in another breath. “I have no idea if I lost my father too. He never returned for my mother.” She paused again. “Or for me.”

A mixture of sympathy and anger welled up in Henry’s gut. Sympathy for the tiny baby who’d never had a chance to know her mother, and anger at the father who hadn’t cared enough to come back for his wife and unborn child.

“I’m sorry, Phebe.” He gave her hands a gentle squeeze before leaning against the back of his chair and thinking over what she’d said. “Is that why you came to California and want to help the orphaned children of the miners? Because you feel like one of them?”

“I am one of them,” Phebe said, confirming Henry’s thought. “And I’m not even sure if he or my brother are still alive.”

Henry frowned. “That was a long time ago. It isn’t at all likely you’ll be able to find either of them.”

She nodded her agreement. “I know. But I will be leaving word at the mining camps whenever I get the chance. If they want to find me, they can.”

“Now that it isn’t as inconvenient for them,” Henry muttered under his breath. Even if either man were still alive, Henry doubted they wanted to be found. Otherwise they’d have returned to New York long ago. “Is that all you wanted to tell me?”

He was relieved to see the tiny smile on her lips.

“And to explain my name to you.” Her smile grew a little. “Caroline was right. My father’s name is Daniel Johnson, but it was Madam Wigg who took me in and raised me. I prefer to use her name.”

Henry nodded. “Completely understandable.”

“I came to the orphanage with little more than a swaddling blanket and a note.”

“What was on the note?” Henry asked, his curiosity piqued.

“My father’s name,” Phebe said before absently adding, “and one other one.”

Henry adjusted his glasses. “One other one?”

Phebe shrugged. “My mother wrote ‘Cora B.’ below my father’s name. Madam Wigg thought it was likely another relative, but without the full name, it isn’t of much use.”

Kate came bustling up to their table, carrying a tray with a large pot and a plate of sweets. “Here now, I have some wonderful tea for you. And since it’s such a splendid occasion, I’ve also brought some of the small iced cakes I always save for times such as this.” She arranged everything on the table before taking a step back with a smile that stretched all the way across her face. “I’m so thrilled to hear you’ll be getting married.” She raised her voice on that last word, which sent another hush around the room.

Oblivious to Kate’s making her own announcement about his impending nuptials, Henry nodded. “Yes, we are. Hopefully tomorrow, but certainly within the next few days.”

“The next few . . .” Kate stumbled backward again and had to apologize to another table of customers. She held a hand to her heart and gaped at Henry before fleeing back to the kitchen.

He stared after her. “Kate is acting very strangely.”

Phebe laughed and Henry beamed at the happy sound. He felt pretty good himself, despite the wobbly chair beneath him.

“Would you like me to pour for you?” Phebe lifted the pot of tea and held it up.

“Thank you, though I won’t be able to drink it. But Kate would be upset if we didn’t look as if we were enjoying her tea.”

“Why can’t you drink the tea, Mr. Frommer?”

Henry grinned at her. “Because I’m sure I’d break that cup in two if I tried to pick it up. And I dare not move much, or I’ll end up on the floor.” When she covered her mouth to hide her smile, he shrugged. “Kate built her shop for people the size of fairies and elves.”

“Oh, I don’t believe so. I’m quite comfortable.” Phebe laughed.

“All right. Fairies, elves, and angels,” Henry complained. “But definitely not full-grown men.”

“We could leave, if you’d prefer?”

He shook his head. “No. I’m enjoying the company, just not the seat.” He smiled when she laughed again. “But I think I will try one of those—”

“Henry! What are you doing here? Treating the help to a little outing?”

His head snapped around in the direction of the voice he knew so well. He’d spent what had seemed like endless hours one night listening to it. Automatically rising to his feet, Henry came face-to-face with the pinched mouth and dagger stare of Priscilla Janson.