The freight wagon rounded a bend in the road. Up ahead he saw the familiar shapes of the buildings of the town. As always, a group of people stood waiting for the arrival of the bi-weekly freight wagon. There would be supplies for the dry goods store, a sewing machine or two, building material, fabric and whatever else it took to keep a household running. Zeke wouldn’t know. He’d been living in the Titanville hotel since he was sixteen when an ace of spades had turned him from a poor orphan into a rich man.

They passed the stables first. Billy Wade yelled something, but Zeke couldn’t hear what it was. Then Big John, the blacksmith, called out to him. Zeke held a hand to his ear. Big John ran after the wagon.

As Zeke turned, he saw other men running toward him. Most he recognized, a few he didn’t. The crowd behind the wagon grew. As the driver slowed the horses, Zeke jumped down. He held his Winchester loosely, just in case there was trouble.

Billy got to him first. His friend was gasping for breath and holding his side.

“You’re back. We’ve been waitin’, Zeke. Waitin’ and countin’ the days. You gotta help us. We don’t know what to do.”

“About what?” Zeke asked, stepping out of the way of those eager to claim their packages.

“There’s trouble. Big trouble.” The other men joined Billy, crowding around Zeke. They nodded.

“It’s awful,” one man said.

“You won’t believe what they’re makin’ us do.”

Zeke imagined everything from Indians to cattle rustlers.

“The new teacher got here ’bout two days after you left,” Billy said, his eyes wide, his expression frightened.

Zeke relaxed. “You’re talking about a woman?”

The men exchanged glances.

“Not just any woman,” Billy told him. “She’s different, Zeke. Mrs. Harbaugh brought more than books to town.” He looked around, as if afraid someone might be listening, then lowered his voice. “She’s changed them.”