Like the spokes from the rim of a giant wheel, they had all come to the same hub.
Not only from different parts of the country, but from across the seas, other countries and other continents—fate, destiny or maybe just chance had ordained that they be in this place at this time.
And in this place at this time, it seemed to each of them, he or she was on the right course.
But it was inevitable that those courses would collide—and there would be casualties.
Ike and Jake Silver—after years of travel and travail had come to a place they could call home, sink roots, and cultivate a new life for themselves and the two young boys.
Melena and Ben Brown—born in bondage, now free and working, not as sharecroppers and servants, but as partners with a man they respected and who respected them, were now able to see their son look at them and smile.
Sister Mary Boniface—with an ever-abiding faith, had found friends among strangers to help her carry out her mission.
Belinda Millay—who had “traveled through a land of men, and heard and saw such dreadful things as cold Earth wanderers never knew,” was now the sole owner of the Emporium, and would never have to walk up the stairs to degradation again.
Basil “Binky” Binkham—who in his time had played many parts, but had never found a stage that gave him more freedom and suited him better than the proscenium provided by the Emporium, along with liquid fringe benefits.
Sean Dolan—seeker of the cold yellow, poised to leap upon a mountain that held the promise of every digger’s dream.
Colorados—who broke out of prison to reclaim his heritage, and whose life had been saved by a man called Silver, and who now was reclaiming that heritage with the help of a soldier called Crook.
Quemada—who coveted Colorados’s chiefdom and bride, and who had an ally named Rupert Lessur, an ally to provide him with the means to possess both.
And Rupert Lessur—who had built an empire without regard to conscience or compunction, and who now saw that empire in temporary relapse because of Silver, Crook, Colorados, and even Belinda Millay, with her natting annoyances. But Rupert Lessur was a man with supreme confidence in his ability to destroy the enemies of his empire: The freight line, the truce, the mine, and even the saloon. He had a plan that included them all. A plan that concluded with their destruction, death or conquest.
Rupert Lessur thought of another saying and smiled inwardly.
“The strong take it from the weak, and the smart take it from the strong.”
As he crossed the street he smiled, and no longer just inwardly, because he knew he was both strong and smart.
“Well, Big Ike, there it is. From storeroom to classroom.” Sister Bonney walked across the room and turned toward Ike. “Thanks to you.”
“I just provided a little space. You did all the rest.”
“With the help of the good people of Prescott, and, of course, the good Lord.”
“Of course.”
“Desks, chairs, books, and, as of tomorrow, the most important ingredient—students.”
“You’ve forgotten another important ingredient, Sister.”
“And what ingredient is that?”
“The teacher.”
“Oh, that.” She shrugged.
“Yes, that.”
“Would you believe, Big Ike, that already twenty-four children have enrolled?”
“That’s twice as many as another teacher had a long time ago,” Ike smiled. “When they sat down to supper.”
“Oh, please.” Sister Bonney was visibly embarrassed at the comparison and wanted to change the subject. “And you do know, of course, that two of those boys are named Silver and another is named Brown.”
“Benjie’s a little young for school, isn’t he?”
“For him it’s a sort of preschool. We wouldn’t want to leave him out, now would we?”
“No, Sister, we wouldn’t. And I must say, I do admire your dedication and determination . . .”
“It’s all a part of what you said to Colorados that night on our journey. . . .”
“Not quite sure what you’re referring to.”
“I’m referring to ‘tribes.’ I couldn’t help overhearing you mention that the Apaches have many tribes; his was the . . . ?”
“Mimbreno.”
“Yes, and you said you were from the tribe of Joseph, isn’t that right?”
Ike nodded.
“Well, in my faith we also have tribes. My tribe is called ‘Sisters of Charity’ . . . and this school is just part of our purpose.”
“But how is it that you—”
Ike Silver never finished his question. He was interrupted by the sound of hammering just outside the side door.
“What on earth is that?” Sister Bonney exclaimed.
“Let’s go find out.”
The two of them walked to the door and opened it.
A familiar group had gathered: Jake, Jed, Obie, Melena, Ben, Benjie, and even Belinda and Binky. They were all watching as Tom Bixby stood on a ladder and pounded the last nail into a freshly lettered sign.
PRESCOTT SCHOOL
FOR BOYS AND GIRLS
TEACHER
SISTER MARY BONIFACE
As Bixby climbed down the ladder, all those assembled, except Sister Bonney, clapped their hands.
“There you are, Sister,” Bixby said, “compliments of just some of your friends and well-wishers.”
“I’m so happy,” Sister Bonney said, “I think I’m going to cry . . . but I do think, Mister Bixby, we ought to paint over that last part of the sign.”
“Oh, no,” Jake said emphatically. “Everybody’s got to know who’s in charge. Right, everybody?”
“Right!” everyone responded at once.
“By the by,”—Binky stepped forward with one hand behind his back—“since I am not a student and cannot be accused of bribing the teacher, I would like to present the teacher with a small token.”
He bowed and held out a large, shiny red apple.
Sister Bonney accepted the apple—and more applause.
“And whenever you need someone to lecture on Shakespeare, I am available at no charge.” Binky bowed again.
“Well, tomorrow’s a big day,” Ike said. “Jake and Ben are going to La Paz, and Sister Bonney and the young ones are going to school.”
“And I,” Belinda Millay said, “am going back to the Emporium.”
“So am I,” Binky added.
“Dad?” Jed asked. “What are you going to do?”
“Me? I’m going to take it easy.”
“Sure you are,” Jake said.