The wagon driver handed down Zeke’s trunk. Big John took it and put it on his shoulder as if it weighed less than a chicken. The group of men began moving toward the hotel.

“You get her gone and things will go back the way they were,” old Sam said. “Zeke, we’re depending on you. I’ll give you first pick of my prize sow’s spring litter.”

“I’ll butcher it for free,” another man said.

“We’ll get together and build you a house, if you want. The biggest house Titanville’s ever seen. Just get her to leave.”

Billy nodded. “Anything, Zeke. You can bring your mares to stud with my best stallion.”

These were fine offers, Zeke thought. Generous. Desperate. He’d played enough cards in his life to know when a man was down to his last dollar, and these men were. He couldn’t believe they were afraid of a woman. Especially a schoolteacher. Women who preferred books over men were usually lonely and quiet. They were like buds, needing a little sunshine to blossom, and he was happy to provide the heat. But this Mrs. Harbaugh had already known the touch of a man. So there had to be another problem.

“The town pays her salary,” he said. “Why not just have a meeting and vote to fire her?”

Big John shuddered. “We can’t. Our wives have already warned us that if we do that, they won’t be sharing our beds anymore. You know how much a man needs the warmth of a woman, Zeke.”

Zeke did. It was a threat to be taken seriously. He found himself intrigued by a woman who had inspired such extraordinary loyalty in such a short period of time.

“What’s she like?” he asked.

Billy shuddered. “She’s a powerful presence. Her eyes are cold and dark.”

“Her skin’s all scarred.”

“She walks as stiff as the dead.”

“The cats run from her.”

“My Bessy stopped giving milk the day she came to visit.”

Zeke pulled out his pocket watch. It was a little after three. “Where is she now?”