"Week 1: Altered Scene"

  "How did I lose all of my stuff?"

  This is my first day in Paradise, and I already learned a hard lesson. I walked into the tiny train station looking for a porter to carry my belongings to the hotel. It only took a few minutes to realize that I had made a grave mistake: "Never, ever take your eyes off of your belongings in Paradise, never." When you do, "they will be stolen." Everything I’d brought with me was gone in less than five minutes. I guess I know now that I won't be making my fortune from mining.

  "How to turn failure into success?"

  After I was done kicking myself for losing everything, it dawned on me that I'm closer now than ever before to making a fortune. I see now that I don’t have the physical capabilities to mine. My stuff was so heavy that I couldn’t even carry it to the hotel, let alone drag it into the wilderness. I looked around town, checking prices. Everything was through the roof. I started to notice what was needed but not provided. "Hmm, now let’s put that business degree to some good use."

  They had food—overpriced and poorly cooked—but food would be hard to manage. It would constantly have to be restocked, which would mean shipping. So, I know I'm not going to make my fortune mining, nor cooking. I've already narrowed down the list of how to make a fortune by half. Tomorrow, I'll make my decision.

  "What's the first thing you noticed about Paradise?"

  I've noticed that a lot of basic needs are being met, but with the lowest of standards. If the standards were raised, you could make a lot of money, but the constant drain of expensive shipping isn’t something that can be borne right now. But really, the very first thing I noticed about Paradise is that "its name and reality are opposites that shall never meet."

  "Week 2: Expected Scene"

  "Who did I meet this week?"

  On Monday, as I was trying to get to the post office, I nearly fell in the muddy street. I tripped on a man lying face down on the boardwalk that stands in for a sidewalk in Paradise. I thought he was dead, but when I bent and slapped his face, he sat bolt upright and said, "'Excuse me, Ma’am, I’ll get out of your way.'"

  He tried to stand, but after making it a quarter of the way up, he went down flat again. "'Are you drunk?' I asked."

  "'No, Ma’am, I’m not,' he replied. 'I just haven’t eaten in a while and I just can’t get up right this moment.'" While saying this, he crawled out of my way.

  "'Why are you in Paradise?' I asked."

  "'I was hoping to stake a claim and strike it rich, but I was robbed and before I could make some money to eat I wound up like this.'"

  "'When did you last eat?'"

  "'About a week ago, Ma’am.'"

  I went to the general store, bought a loaf of bread, a bar of soap, and a bottle of sarsaparilla. I brought it back to the man and said, "'Drink this, eat this, and use this,' as I pointed to the soap in the bag. 'Then if you want a job, come to the hotel and talk to me about the possibility. Understood?'"

  "'Yes, Ma’am, I do. I’ll be there shortly.'"

  "'If you get there by five, we can talk over supper, and what is your name?'"

  "'Zeke McCormack, Ma’am. I’ll be there.'"

  "'Okay, Mr. McCormack, good day.'"

  He still looked a little rough when he showed up for dinner, but it was a big improvement over what I’d stumbled on this morning. He ate like a gentleman, but a gentleman who hadn’t eaten in a week. He told me more of his background and how he had arrived in town already broke, owning nothing but the clothes on his back. Over coffee, I made him my offer: I’d outfit him with food, a tent, and basic mining tools for a 33% stake in whatever he took out of the hills. If it resulted in an actual mine, my stake would either drop to 25% if said mine was self-funded by Mr. McCormack. If, however, he needed more funds from me, my stake would rise to a 40% share or higher, depending on the funds needed for the mine. I saw the look in his eyes—it was gold fever, and he readily agreed to all my terms. For forty dollars, the cost of his stake, I now owned 25% of a potential mine.

  "What troubles do I encounter?"

  "What happened at the sendoff party?"

  I had McCormack outfitted the next day, after signing the paperwork at the lawyer’s office. I asked McCormack to come to the hotel for dinner to celebrate our partnership as he planned to depart before dawn the next day. He wanted a drink at the saloon, but I insisted on the hotel. I’d been by the saloon a few times, and "it looked very, very rowdy." I didn’t want rowdy, so we settled on the hotel.

  Shortly after we’d begun eating, the men at the table just to our right began arguing, at first quietly, then very loudly. They had a claim together and were disagreeing over how the proceeds should be split. Just as I was about to tell McCormack, "this is why you need a lawyer" —something McCormack had disagreed with—the yelling man closest to me jumped up and stabbed the man he was arguing with.

  Then, before I knew what was happening, "he dragged me from my chair with a knife to my throat" and started pulling me backward toward the door, yelling for everyone to stay away. When we arrived at the door, he had to pause to open it. I had what I thought might be my only chance. I raised my right foot and smashed it down on his foot. At the same time, I used both hands to grab the hand that was holding the knife. Then, "I bit down." Blood went squirting. I put my head down to my chest, then snapped it back, "hitting the brute with as much force as I possibly could." He dropped to the floor, stunned and bleeding from his nose. By this time, McCormack and the hotel staff had a hold of him, and I was picking up what I believe is called a bowie knife. I looked at McCormack and said, "'You were right, we should have gone to the saloon.'"

  "What's it like in Paradise?"

  "Why is every day a party in Paradise?"

  Every day is a party in Paradise because every morning, 150 or more people get up before dawn and head out to mine. Add to that the hundreds who camp, live, and mine on site, and you have above even chances that one of them might strike it rich. Once they hit something, they carry as much as they can back to town to the assay office to see just how big they hit. Then, invariably, they go to the saloon to "brag and drink, and buy drinks for people and brag and drink." Then, if they're not too drunk, they might come by the hotel, take the best room, and have the most expensive dinner on the menu. All so tomorrow they can go back and dig some more and sleep with their mule until "they are rich, stinking bloody rich, or they die in the mine, or are killed by claim jumpers." But today is their day to party in Paradise like they own the town.

  "Week 3: Expected Scene"

  "What did I do this week?"

  "What did you do with the contract with McCormack?"

  I took it to the photographer. "That’s like a portrait painter, but he doesn’t have any paints, just this funny square box and flash powder," and in a little while, you have your portrait, "only more real than any portrait you’ve seen before." Then I wrote a letter to my most gossipy sorority sister, mailed it with the photo, and that "set one ball rolling."

  Ever since I'd found McCormack out cold from hunger, I took to walking through town a few times a day looking for more potential partners. Two days ago, I was lucky enough to find another promising candidate. They were amenable to the same terms as McCormack. Hamish O'Brien leaves tomorrow. I’m hoping to establish my second mine, again for $40. My other venture will have to await the verities of the U.S. mail.

  "What troubles do I encounter?"

  "Who broke into my hotel room, and would I like protection?"

  I don’t know who broke into my hotel room or for what reason. The town might not have the most sophisticated bank, but they do have safety deposit boxes, and my surplus cash, and all of my contracts are in there. Shortly after my room was broken into, a rather large, rough young man with a six-shooter hanging from a belt came up to my table as I was having lunch in the hotel. I could smell the "rot gut on his breath." I’d seen him around town, always "leaning against something, like he owned the building."

  "'What can I do for you, young man?'"

  "'Nahh, it's what I can do for you. You want protection? I protection.'"

  "'No, thank you, I’m fine.'"

  "'I heard you were robbed.'"

  "'No, nothing was stolen from me.'"

  "'Personal protection, you fine-looking woman know what men do with fine-looking woman, I keep men away.'"

  "'No thank you, I am quite safe.'" I continued eating my dessert.

  "'You sure you safe?'" he said as he loomed over me.

  "'Oh yes, quite safe. I’ve had a gun pointed at your balls since the moment you approached my table. Are you sure you are safe?'" It took a second, but a confused look filled his face. Then he looked at my lap where the cocked gun rested.

  "'Yeah,' he said, 'you safe.'" After he left, I called the waiter over and asked, "'Do you happen to know who that man is?'"

  "'Yes, Miss Rousseau, that’s Nathan Delaney.'"

  "What's it like in Paradise?"

  "What’s the most dangerous thing in Paradise?"

  The glib answer is other Paradisians. While that is glib, it’s also true. The murder rate is very high, but for so many murders, local law enforcement—a sheriff and two deputies—take the vast majority of them in on the day of the murder, or the murderer is killed resisting arrest. Almost all of the murders are committed in plain sight. It’s a small town with a lot of people. Disputes are almost always about either money or mine claims. If a claim jumper gets killed, the majority of the town doesn’t believe it’s murder but justice. "That’s a town of miners for you."

  While not a danger per se, the distance from another civilized town, city, or village can be dangerous if a critical supply is needed and there are none in town. Also, the time it takes to communicate makes long-term planning critical for important items and medicines.

  "Week 4: Expected Scene"

  "What did I do this week?"

  "What’s inflation up to now?"

  This week, my Sears catalog arrived, and I placed a bulk order for mining equipment, tents, and other camp supplies. "Inflation in town seems to get worse as more miners strike it rich." They don’t mind paying ten times an item's value. Some of them even seem proud to pay an inflated price—mostly the ones who never had money before. For instance, I'd found another man willing to contract with me in exchange for staking him, but what I’d paid $40 for now cost $70. Sears sells it for ten. So I ordered ten sets from them, and with the shipping added on, I’ll be paying around $20 a set. But for this week, I paid the seventy and sent Oliver Douglas out to make his fortune and mine.

  "What troubles do I encounter?"

  "How could I lose all that money?"

  Short answer: I was robbed again. This time it wasn’t my fault. I usually keep the bulk of my money in my bodice, but I was in the general store, stocking up against inflation, buying a bulk order of canned foods, and had put my money in my purse as I didn’t want anyone seeing that I kept my money in the bodice. The robber had Mr. Patton put all of his money from the register into a sack. The robber then grabbed my purse, putting it in the same sack, then started for the door. I pulled my gun and shot him in the back at the same time Mr. Patton pulled out a sawed-off shotgun. He missed the robber but hit the lamp oil display he was standing next to. Suddenly, "the store is in flames," the robber is in flames, and the sack with my purse and all my cash is on fire. We made it out of the building, and the town came to Mr. Patton’s aid right away, forming a bucket brigade. We managed to save the store. Our money and Mr. Patton's lamp oil was a total loss. I went to the bank immediately and arranged for a line of credit in my name so I wouldn’t starve. But for the next few weeks, I won’t be "wheeling and dealing." Luckily, I’d already paid for that order from Sears.

  That night as I was eating supper in the hotel, Nathan Delaney returned and said triumphantly, "'I told you you needed protection.'"

  "'Actually, Mr. Delaney, it was the robber who needed protection from me. It’s just unfortunate that Mr. Patton couldn’t hit a barn with his shotgun or I’d have had my money back as well as his.'"

  "What’s it like in Paradise?"

  "Let's make a deal. What do you say?"

  Everything in Paradise is for sale. Last week, a woman was trying to sell her baby. It’s not as bad as it sounds. She had no money for food, and because she wasn’t eating, she wasn’t producing any milk. So the baby wasn’t eating either. The mother thought the only way for her baby to survive was to sell her to someone who’d take care of her. That’s when I met her. I’d been looking for more hard-up miners to invest in when she offered me her baby for a dollar. I hired her instead. Now she’s my "little side project." There aren’t many women living in Paradise, so I offered to broker a marriage deal for her with some well-to-do miner, but she refused. She’d run from one husband who beat her and wasn't about to make that mistake again. So now I have a ladies’ maid named Bianca Russell, no cash, and a project.

  "Week 5: Expected Scene"

  "What did I do this week?"

  "Should I get Zeke and Bianca together?"

  Zeke McCormack made good. It wasn’t a huge strike, but he has the claim lodged and gave me my 33%. I knew he was an honest guy. I didn't really want to use that letter of credit, and now I won’t have to. I just hope this is a regular thing—bags of gold delivered monthly. Right now, I’ve got almost as much as I’d started with, so it's "high time for a little celebration."

  I ask Zeke to a celebratory dinner, then hurry to find Bianca, who’s doing the laundry. I don’t miss that job; it’s kind of nice having a ladies’ maid. But first, I need a babysitter, so I head over to the general store to ask Mrs. Patton, the "much too holier than thou type," to do her Christian duty and babysit tonight. She agreed, and now I can hurry and find Bianca. After I find Bianca, I explain that my first mine has had a minor strike and that tonight we’re celebrating, dressing up, then drinks and dinner at the hotel, carefully avoiding any mention of Zeke.

  At 8 p.m., we arrive for dinner. Zeke stands, dressed much better than those rags I found him in a month ago. I introduce Zeke and Bianca, explaining that Zeke and I are partners in the mine, our reason for the celebration. After the second bottle of champagne, I make the excuse that the drink has gone to my head and I really must lie down. As Bianca stands to join me, I shake my head and tell her to stay and eat. "I already paid for the dinner and don’t want that to go to waste." Besides, I said, "what are you going to do if you come with me, watch me sleep?" She sits back down but doesn’t look pleased. I stop at the desk and ask them to send my dinner and another bottle of champagne to my room.

  "What troubles do I encounter?"

  "What happened to the morning after the dinner party?"

  The morning after the dinner party, I went out for my usual hunt for down-on-their-luck miners to recruit when I was attacked in one of the back alleys. It was a hooded man with a knife. "'Heard you carried your money in your bustier, so I’ll be having a look at that chest.'"

  "'Come’re then, I’ll give you something to see.'" As he approached, I could smell that same cheap whiskey that Delaney always smelled like. I slipped a breast out and said, "'Why just look when you can play with them.'" His dirt-encrusted hands started caressing my breast. I made a soft little moan. "'Oh, take me, take me right here.'" Pulling up my skirts, with my knees freed from the confines of the skirt, "I kneed him in the balls." He went down howling, clutching his jewels. So I kicked him again. His hands may have deflected a little of the force, but the scream he let out proved that it was another good hit. I picked up the knife, held it under his chin, and asked, "'Give me one good reason not to slit your throat, right here, right now.'"

  "'I didn’t want to do it, I didn't, it was Delaney, he made me.'"

  I put the knife in my purse, pulled out the revolver, and fixed my bustier and dress. "'Get up,' I said to the moaning man." He still writhed on the ground. I guess that second kick was overkill. I shot the ground up by his head. That got him on his feet, a little unsteady. "'Let's go. If you move in any way I don’t like, I’ll shoot you in the back the same way I shot that robber, do you understand?'"

  "'Yes, ma’am.'"

  So I marched him to the sheriff’s office and left him with a deputy. I told him the charges were "attempted robbery and sexual assault" as he had attacked my person. Then I went to find Delaney, right where the pervert said he’d be. Delaney was grinning at my disheveled attire. He must have assumed his man had robbed me and I was here for his "protection."

  "'Delaney, you were right, this is a dangerous town, so I’m done playing around. I’ve hired an assassin. If anything happens to me, my company, or the people who work for me, that assassin has one target, just one. You. So if I were you, I’d bust my ass to make sure no rivals of yours get the bright idea to do something to me or mine. Your protection of me and mine should be your top priority. Do you understand or do I just tell the assassin not to wait? Hmm. What will it be?'"

  "'Oh, and the guy you sent to rob me should be out of prison in about 15 years.'"

  "'It’s not my fault if someone..'"

  "'It doesn’t matter to the assassin whose fault it is. If I get run over by the preacher's buggy and get a scratch, know who the assassin is going to kill? You, pal. You. Don’t think you can get away. Over the next 3 to 5 days, he’s going to give you a little demonstration. Don’t try and fight back. I asked him not to kill you, but this guy is right on the edge, you know the type. A guy who loves his job so much he lives for it. Anyway, good luck. I really hope you start doing a better job of protecting me.'"

  "What's it like in Paradise?"

  "What are the streets like in Paradise?"

  The main street of Paradise is a mud pit with boardwalks in front of the shops. So if you can stay on one side of the street, you’re okay, but if you need to cross, you’ll need a horse, mule, or burro to get to the other side without sinking a foot in the mud. Even if it hasn’t rained in a week, the road remains a mud pit. Probably because the men from the saloon piss in the streets. Sometimes, when things get a little boring in the saloon, they hold contests to see who can piss the furthest. Needless to say, "we avoid walking past the saloon whenever possible."

  "Week 6: Altered Scene"

  "What troubles do I encounter?"

  "Why did I make such a stupid deal?"

  I was trying to save some money on food, as the general store has poor quality at a premium price. I was aiming for medium quality at a medium price, so I sent off an order. While it was being shipped, the shipment was robbed. Not all of the food was stolen, but most was damaged, with containers filled with maggots and worse upon arrival. If it wasn’t for the lucky fact that me and Zeke’s mine had a productive week, I’d be broke again.

  "What did I do this week?"

  "Who arrived in town this week?"

  Donatella Fischer, my gossipy sorority sister, arrived with a pair of "somewhat plain young women." When I saw them depart the coach, I waved hello, directed them to the hotel, and went to what this town refers to as its newspaper. I hit the bell on the counter and asked, "'Can I make the next edition?'" I have a story for you that your readers are going to want to read about—my latest venture. Then I hurried back to the hotel, brought Dona and her two wards up to my suite. Bianca was still a little frosty with me about the celebration dinner, but when she saw what I had dragged in, she became her inquisitive self.

  "'So Dona has filled you in on all the particulars, right girls?'" They nodded yes.

  "'And what are your names?'" The redhead was Riley Russell and the blonde was Annabelle Moreau. "'First off, let’s see what dresses you have.'"

  Dona spoke for them. Riley and Annabelle were on hard times when they left New York City, so what they were wearing was all that they had. "'Okay, Bianca, let’s get the girls in a bath so they can freshen up from their long trip, and then we'll sort out some dress clothes for them to wear to dinner tonight. I expect the dining room to be packed, and we have a table for 8 pm.'"

  While they were getting cleaned up, I took Dona into my private bath, and we gossiped while she bathed. She told me about all that I’d missed in NYC in the past seven weeks, and I filled her in on the absolute fortune we were going to make here in Paradise. Riley and Anna looked a lot better after their baths and the makeup job that Dona and I did on them. Then we slipped them into a pair of ball gowns I had hanging in the closet. Dona and I dressed plainly and wore little makeup. I had Riley and Anna lead us to the dining room, and I was elated to see that the lobby was full to overflowing. A few of the men approached me, as they’d seen me around town. But I said, "'Sorry, boys, can’t talk now, we have reservations and the girls are starving after their long trip, you understand.'"

  Every table in the dining room was full except for ours, and no one was eating—just watching us as we arrived. Cy from the newspaper was there with his sketch pad, asking if he could draw the girls, which I readily agreed to. It takes a while for Cy to sketch, but the girls looked elegant. Then we had our dinner and talked quietly among ourselves. I was reassuring the girls that they had made a tremendous impression. That was true; even Cy was tongue-tied speaking to the girls, and they pulled off a "rich eastern girl style" perfectly. Dona had told me that the girls were dancers at the Bowery Theatre but had tired of the grueling schedule. Bianca leaned over and whispered to me, "'Who are these girls?'"

  "'Why, these are my new mail-order brides.'"

  "What's it like in Paradise?"

  "How's a parade in NYC different from one in Paradise?"

  You know that big parade they held in NYC to celebrate the troops from the American-Mexican War? Well, a parade here in Paradise is "five miners in dirty work clothes leading five mules through a foot of mud."

  "Week 7: Random Event"

  "Fortuna has not been on my side."

  The rest of my cash was used up when flooding on the Mississippi delayed another shipment of "brides." Hotel bills and food don’t come cheap. It’s alright; we’ll just up the price when they do arrive. Luckily, one being 'purchased' gave us enough to live on for another week.

  "Week 8: Altered Scene"

  "What's it like in Paradise?"

  "Is Paradise a healthy place to live?"

  Well, Paradise isn’t the healthiest place to live. We’ve had two outbreaks of cholera since I’ve been here, and I hear from Mr. Patton that in the past year, they’ve had "the big three: Cholera, Typhoid Fever, and Dysentery." That’s in the town itself and the mining camps that spring up around the mines. We could use a doctor—even a nurse would be a great start. Right now, all we have is the barber, and just about the only thing he’s good for is amputations.

  It’s not just Paradise that’s dangerous. Two girls who were coming for my Mail Order Brides business died en route. They caught cholera in Missouri, and both died on the same day. With that, my money is back to zero, as no money has come in from any of the gold mines this week.

  "What did I do this week?"

  "Will this be my last week in Paradise?"

  I mourned a pair of girls I’d never met and started to think that this might not be the best path forward. Those two girls would probably still be alive today if they’d never heard of me or my schemes to get rich. I talked it over with Dona. Even if I wasn’t broke, we agreed that we’d pause the "Bride project" until at least we could find a safer way to get the women here. Dona tells me that it’s not my fault what happened to those girls, and their prospects in NY had fallen so low that they might easily have died without ever leaving the city. Then we decide that she should head back to NYC and that if I want to restart the Mail Order Brides project, I have only to let her know. So I really didn’t do much. I don’t want to let Bianca down, but if I’m forced to abandon my dream here, then I plan on taking Bianca and the baby with me, if they’ll come. They may have no faith left in me if I quit.

  "What troubles do I encounter?"

  "Did I transform Paradise or did Paradise transform me?"

  Luckily, Paradise itself caused me no misfortune this week, so far. But when I look back to my time here, I understand every decision I made. They were solid decisions, but "Fortuna it seems has had it in for me from the start." Although leaving my belongings on the platform was entirely my fault and a poor decision, aside from that, every other choice I made was a considered and well-thought-out plan. Time will tell; next week is critical.

  "Week 9: Expected Scene"

  "What did I do this week?"

  "Who wants to break a contract?"

  Hamish O'Brien made a strike and came to check the purity of the gold and complain that he'd worked hard for that gold while I just sit in town and rake in the profits. Then I point out that if I hadn’t helped him out of the gutter, he’d still be lying in said gutter, and right now he "owns 67% of a mine." Well, he still grumbled, but he said an "agreement is an agreement" and paid me my 33%. Then I took my profits and set up another would-be miner who was so far down on his luck that he’d happily agreed to my terms.

  "What troubles do I encounter?"

  "For once, it seems no disaster has befallen us this week."

  I had begun to feel cursed. But Bianca has been a good friend and has spent the week comforting me. She noted her circumstances before having met me and explained that as sad as it is that those two girls died, it is also true that she and her baby might have died, or even worse, she might have found a buyer for the baby. Well, as long as we don’t have two disastrous weeks in a row, we’ll remain in Paradise and seek our fortunes.

  "What's it like in Paradise?"

  "How has Paradise changed in the nine weeks I’ve been here?"

  Well, I’ve seen people transform, like Zeke—"starving to death to a man of wealth." Delaney, from town bully to laughingstock. The town itself has seen some successes but some failures as well. It’s hard for a town to change in two months, but "a person can blossom or they can wither." I was starting to wither, now I just hope I too can blossom.

  "Week 10: Expected Scene"

  "What did I do this week?"

  "Am I master of my own fate?"

  Yes, I am. I’m not going to allow Fortuna to destroy what I’m trying to build here. Zeke came to town with another pile of gold, and I found another man who needed a stake and agreed to my terms. So, after the uncertainty of the past few weeks, I decided a little celebratory supper was in order. Bianca, Zeke, and myself had a bottle of champagne and three of the most expensive meals on the menu. It was a good week; now we just need a few more like it.

  "What troubles do I encounter?"

  "Is it a disadvantage to being a woman in a man's profession?"

  Physically, yes, a woman is at a disadvantage. I learned that my first week when I couldn’t even carry my mining gear to the hotel. In some respects, it may have been in my favor that my equipment was stolen. If I had somehow managed to drag that equipment into the wilderness, I might be dead now. So physically, it’s a disadvantage to be a woman, but even a physical profession like mining has a side where brains can make up for brawn. Pay someone to do that which you can’t, but use your head instead of your back to make a fortune.

  "What's it like in Paradise?"

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "What’s it like to be able to pick up gold in the street?"

  Maybe before I arrived, or before most people arrived, this might have been possible, but it’s "more hyperbole than fact." In fact, I only saw gold twice: once when Zeke brought a small amount to be tested for purity and the other time when he brought a small nugget to pay for dinner. But gold is about the only thing that isn’t inflating in price. The more people that have gold to spend, the less the merchants want paper money. Everyone in town has gold fever, but I’ll happily take either gold or cash.

  It’s also uncertain; any day you go down into the mine might be the day you dig out the last nugget. That’s why I want another source of income. I keep outfitting miners, but only two have hit so far, and O’Brien is almost more trouble than he’s worth. If I had access to the proper sort of woman—the improper woman—I’d make a small fortune running a bawdy house here in the hotel. I’ll mail Dona about it tonight to see if she’s been able to find a safer way for a woman to travel from NYC to Paradise.

  "Week 11: Altered Scene"

  "Does Bianca want to assist with a little project?"

  I received a letter from Dona. It’s amazing how much the two of us think alike; maybe it’s those four years we spent as roommates. I wrote to Dona last night, and it’s almost like she already anticipated my idea. She’s already found 10 girls who are willing for double the money they are getting in NYC. She also figured it’d be safer to send the 10 as a group and fast if they take trains to the Mississippi River, get a riverboat to cross the river, then take a wagon train the rest of the way. Since she’s already made the trip, she’ll be coming along because she doesn’t trust any of the girls enough to give them money for travel, as they'd likely just take the money and disappear. They’ll get twice as much per day as they got in NYC, but not until after they’ve paid back their travel expenses. If any of them decides to leave the profession and get married, we’ll help facilitate that for our Mail Order Bridal fee. We can’t lose money on this deal.

  I explained to Bianca, who at first was dead set against it, thinking I wanted her to be one of the girls. So I explained in detail she’d be working for both myself and Dona, her salary would double, and we’d also hire a nanny for Romeo. Finally, I knew that kid's name.

  I went downstairs to talk to the hotel owner. I had a proposition that "he can’t refuse." I told Sawyer Douglas that I wanted to buy my floor of the hotel and the floor above mine. This confused him because there is no floor above mine. I made him my offer and told him he had until breakfast tomorrow morning to decide what he wanted to do. I also told him that if he refused, I was headed across the street to buy the empty lot and construction of my "Luxury Hotel, Bar, Restaurant, theater with dancing girls" would begin tomorrow afternoon.

  "Does Bianca want to assist with a little project?"

  "How is Hazel Evans as an employee?"

  She did a fantastic job with Hamish; he was very pleased, and he actually recovered much quicker than expected. So, good job, Hazel, on that front. The morning after I hired her, I caught her "giving a hand job to a bellboy outside my room," and seeing how I didn’t own that floor, some other guests complained to the management. When Douglas confronted me about it, I acted shocked and told him I didn’t see how that was possible, as Hazel was nursing Hamish back to health and hadn’t left his room since arriving at the hotel. I suggested it might have been a person off of the street or some other guest.

  Then I went to give Hazel hell. I told her to "lay off the bellboys if she wanted a place in my new company."

  "'Well, the boys have to learn somewhere, don’t..'" she started to say, but seeing my look, she veered to a new course and said, "'Yes, ma’am.'"

  Later, I found the bellboy in question and asked if he was all right. He grinned at me and said, "'Yes, ma’am, I’m great.'"

  "'Well, I’ve spoken to Hazel, and that won’t be happening again. I can’t have her taking advantage of young boys.'"

  The big grin faded. "'Oh, she didn’t take advantage of me, Ma’am, she didn’t even charge me.'"

  Hazel is a mixed bag as an employee. She’s kind and caring, but she acts before she thinks, or maybe she just acts and never thinks. I’m not sure.

  "What's it like in Paradise?"

  "Why is it so hard to get here but so easy to leave?"

  It’s that time thing—a watched pot never boils. When you’re traveling to Paradise, you’re anticipating making a fortune, excited, and anxious. By the time you’re ready to leave, it’s because you are either rich or the town has beaten you down, again and again and again, and "every step you take away from town, you feel a little lighter." I wonder how I’ll be leaving?

  "Week 12: Altered Scene"

  "Is the addition to the hotel finished and who put a bee in the church lady’s bonnet?"

  The addition will be done this week, so whenever Dona arrives with the girls, we’ll be ready. It’s a good thing Hamish got better fast, as we needed his gold. The hotel addition cost way more than expected. I was looking over the hotel plans and taking a good look at the books, which didn’t take long as the books were mostly about how poor we were, but at least we’re not broke again. I even outfitted another would-be miner this week. The red ink was giving me a headache, but what was worse was the high-pitched squawking coming from Bianca’s office. Just when I was about to go see what it was all about, a pinch-faced woman came bursting in. I could see the righteousness radiating off her like the sun. So I figured I’d stop her before she got started.

  "'Look, lady, I’m sorry, but you’re a little too old. I don’t think you could take care of more than two or three miners a day, and I've got some young women coming in from out of town. If you just wanna give hand jobs to the old timers, we’d have a place for you, but at a quarter of the going rate. Got it.'" Her face got so red I was afraid I’d overdone it and killed her.

  But then the squawking started again. "'Do you know who I am?'"

  "'No, I don’t, and I don’t really care. No more than a quarter share for hand jobs, lady.'"

  "'I’m the preacher’s wife.'"

  "'Don’t care. I’m a business woman, and I say a quarter share is all you get. You can start tomorrow if you want.'" This was the most fun I’ve had since I arrived in Paradise.

  "'I do not want! I do not want you or any of your painted women in this town. It’s named after that which God gave us and we threw away.'"

  "'Lady, if Eden was anything like Paradise, Eve had the brains to get out while she could.'"

  "'Why, you blasphemous little hussy, God’s going to send you straight to hell.'"

  "'Oh, you’re speaking for God now, are you? Isn’t that a little presumptuous?'"

  "'Straight to Hell he’ll send you.'"

  "'Well, you know what Epicurus said about God, don’t you?'"

  "'I don’t know who Epicurus is, you harlot! Why should I care about some dirty immigrant?'" I laughed. I just couldn’t help it.

  "'Epicurus isn’t an immigrant; he was one of the greatest Greek philosophers, and he proved your God doesn’t exist before he was even born. Do you know how to read?'"

  "'Of course I know how to read!'"

  "'Great. Have you ever read the Bible? Genesis in particular?'"

  "'Of course. I can quote you passages if you don’t believe me.'"

  "'No, no, I believe you. Did you ever think about them?'"

  "'I’ve prayed about them, which is better than thinking.'"

  "'That’s why you're so turned around, you need to think.'"

  "'God destroyed two cities because they were sinful, right? Do you have kids?'"

  "'Yes! God struck two sinful cities from the world, just as he’ll cast harlots into hell, and I have children, but I’d never let you near them.'"

  "'Nope, don’t want to go near your children, just wanted to know if you had a motherly instinct. So here’s the question: if you and the preacher sinned terribly, would it be justice if he killed you and your children, not just you? I say no, but I’d like to hear your answer.'"

  "'Yes, it’s justice because… because… Because… God created the children and they are his to do whatever he pleases with.'"

  "'But your God is omnipotent, isn’t he? He could easily have just punished you, but instead he dragged your kids into it. What about Sodom and Gomorrah? It’s the same thing: kids, babies, unborn babies all destroyed on some God’s whim. If you knew someone like that, would you consider them to be benevolent and want to have your kids around them? I’m just asking you to think, think, use that great powerful brain you have and think. Oh, the two evil cities are destroyed, then what happens? Lot’s wife is destroyed. Why? Because she's curious? See, the bible doesn’t want you to think. If you think, you see all the areas where God doesn’t do very Godly things. And let’s get back to Lot, the 'Good Man.' What’s he do to mourn his dead wife? The good man gets drunk and commits incest with his two daughters, then whoever chronicled all this had the balls to blame the two daughters. Is your husband a good man? Do you feel safe leaving him with your children? Just think, think, think. What would I do to protect my kids, my parents? Then go home and read this and think about this as well.'"

  Then I wrote her my favorite quote. "'Is God willing to prevent evil, but not able? Then he is not omnipotent. Is he able, but not willing? Then he is malevolent. Is he both able and willing? Then whence cometh evil? Is he neither able nor willing? Then why call him God?'"

  "'Come by anytime you want a chat. Sorry, I have to go upstairs and talk to the foreman.'"

  "What troubles do I encounter?"

  "Did I just make things worse?"

  It feels like I just fell into a trap. I should have posed as some pious woman to the church lady. Instead, I challenged her beliefs and told her to think—that’s not a thing most people take in a good way. While she and the preacher might not have much power now in a fairly lawless town, it’s only a matter of time until the rules and obligations of civilization catch up, and unless I have enough cash and power to protect my employees and friends, they’ll suffer along with me for my little tirade.

  "What's it like in Paradise?"

  "Can there be peace in Paradise?"

  There wasn’t much I could do about the church lady at this point, but there was one person in town that I might be able to make peace with. Nathan Delaney was leaning on the usual post in front of the saloon. The stench of piss and rotgut was unusually pungent as it was a warm day. I tried to not let that bother me. I was here to make peace and maybe find a little common ground.

  "'Look, I’ve stayed clear of you, lady. I don’t want no more trouble.'"

  "'Hiya, Delaney, can I buy you a beer?'" He wasn’t expecting that.

  "'Ummm, sure.'" With that, I waltzed into his bar, ordered us beers, and brought them to one of the big poker tables. The saloon was pretty quiet during the day, as most of the men were out mining, but there were a few rummies standing at one end of the bar.

  "'I know you’re a busy guy, Delaney, so I’ll cut right to the chase. Not sure if you heard, but I’m opening a high-class eastern whorehouse in the hotel. I’m not expecting trouble, but you know how stupid men can get when they mix liquor with women. To ward off stupid men, I want to hire the biggest, meanest-looking man in town, but I don’t want the meanest man, I want a nice polite man to me and my girls, just want the meanest-looking, to scare the shit out of the stupid, and I’d be happy to pay you a finder’s fee. Whatcha say?'"

  "'I, might, know a guy, an Injun. I’ve been trying to hire him for years, but he always turns me down. Something happened to him when he was a kid: the cavalry raided his village and one of the pony soldiers slashed him in the face with a saber, leaving a six-inch-long scar and a blind eye. I’ll try and get him to stop by the hotel so you can meet him, and no finder’s fee required. I was stupid the way I treated you. I thought you were a mark, and I can clearly see that you are no mark.'"

  "'What’s his name?'"

  "'I always just call him Chief.'"

  "'Thanks, Delaney.'"

  Week 13 Expected Scene [Punish, Opposition]

  "Why we don’t need no dirty claim jumpers in Paradise"

  Oliver Douglas was one of my miners, and he hadn’t had any success—until suddenly, he did. He came in this week to pay me my 33% and to warn the other miners that claim jumpers had shot at him. He’d fired back, but he was no gunslinger, just a miner.

  I suggested we get all the miners in town to talk about it, but first I wanted a word with him, Hamish, and Zeke. It took a few days, but we all got together in my office and I explained my plan.

  "The way I see it," I said, "the claim jumpers want to kill miners to get access to their claim. What if we took that away from them?"

  "The four of us—and anyone else who wants to come in with us—get a safety deposit box in the bank. All the claims are deposited. If a claim jumper kills you, they don’t get your mine—your family does. I’ll hire a miner to work your mine for 33%, then we send your family 33%. If your family comes to claim the mine, they get the full 67%. I know it’s cold comfort, but at least your family is provided for and your murderer isn’t enjoying your gold."

  "For this to work, it needs to be widely known. It’s no use getting murdered to trick the bastards—the whole idea is to keep you guys safe. What do you say?"

  They agreed, and I suggested we go down to the saloon and talk about starting a mining guild.

  It didn’t take too long. I explained my scheme to the miners—starting a guild, appointing a guild master to look out for their interests in case of demise by accident or murder. I explained it needed to be widely known that if the owner of the mine was killed, the murderer wouldn’t have access to the claim, as that had been filed with the guild master.

  At first, they all wanted to be guild master—until I pointed out that it would be best if the guild master was a retired miner who remained in town and could handle guild problems in a timely fashion. I also pointed out that a guild master would be a target for the claim jumpers.

  That’s how I became the Paradise Mining Guild Master.

  I told them, "I don’t want it. I’m not a miner."

  They said, "If you own 99% of a mine, you’re a miner."

  Finally, I agreed. "Now let’s talk about ways to keep you safe out there."

  We talked for a few more hours and came up with some plans—like miners pairing up going to and from the mines, taking turns acting as guards. We’d talk to the sheriff and get some protection when possible so we could catch these guys—and after a swift, enjoyable trial, we could hang ’em.

  Meeting adjourned.

  That’s when Dona showed up with the ladies of the evening.

  [Communicate, Disadvantage]

  "Will everybody please be quiet?"

  The noise was deafening. The girls were all talking, the miners were all talking. The girls looked like they’d been stuck in a coach too long, and the miners like they hadn’t seen a woman in forever.

  I grabbed Dona and said, "We need to get these girls to the hotel before this devolves into some kind of orgy in the saloon."

  I asked Oliver, Zeke, and Hamish to escort them to the hotel, and all three readily agreed. I felt like a mother hen trying to get her brood in the hen house before the fox got to them.

  As the miners saw us hustling the girls toward the door, they made to follow us to the hotel. I used my power as guild master to make them stay at the saloon, work out schedules and guard duties.

  "Besides," I said, "Aphrodite’s Palace isn’t open yet, and these girls deserve a nice hot bath and a soft fluffy bed—because they crossed a whole damn continent just to meet you guys."

  "Saturday night at 8 p.m. is the grand opening. Clean your clothes and yourselves—nobody gets in who isn’t clean. I’m giving you fair warning—the doorman won’t let you in and you’ll miss out on all the fun. So bring yourselves and your money—especially your money. Right, girls?"

  The girls were laughing and flirting, and for once, we were actually having a good week in Paradise.

  I got the girls to their rooms at the hotel, told Bianca, Hazel, and Dona to get them baths and figure out the rooms, and to tell them that at 10 a.m. tomorrow I’d be laying out the rules.

  I still needed to find the Chief—my imposing doorman.

  I walked out to the Indian village. It was a couple of miles from town, and while there was no road, there was a well-worn path. I’d often seen a single or a couple of Indians in town, mostly at the general store. I’d never been to their village before, and to be honest, I was a little nervous.

  Back East, usually the news we got about Indians was about some massacre or the occasional story of a woman being abducted from a wagon train.

  When I got to the village, it looked much like Paradise—dirty, poor, and a little neglected. The few people I saw ignored me. When I tried speaking to them, they continued to ignore me. Maybe they didn’t speak English. I certainly couldn’t speak any Miwok. That’s the name of the tribe the deputy told me resided here.

  A young Indian—14 or 15 years old, I guessed—stood in a doorway and looked at me like those miners had looked at my girls. That’s when I started to get the idea—maybe Delaney wasn’t playing nice when he directed me to Chief. Maybe this was him taking his revenge—let the Indians take care of the uppity white girl.

  The boy left the doorway and started to follow me. Now I couldn’t even turn back. My heart was pounding. I was talking myself into a dime novel rape nightmare.

  I stopped, turned to look at the boy, and said, "Hello, my name is Sienna. I’m named after a town in Europe. What’s your name?"

  Nothing. No reply.

  "Where can I find Chief?"

  "Right here, lady."

  I almost had a heart attack on the spot when I turned from the boy to the mountain of a man who’d walked an arm’s length away from me without making a sound. Nothing that large should be able to move noiselessly.

  "Oh hi, Chief. How do you do? I’m Sie."

  "I know who you are. What are you doing here?"

  "Well Chief, I came here to ask you to work for me. See, I’m opening a business at—"

  "Yeah, I heard you are opening a whorehouse. Did your girls get here?"

  "Ah yes, they came in today. But how did you know about the—"

  "Hazel. Hazel told me. She is my friend. But she did not tell me you wanted to hire me."

  "Well, she didn’t know. Even I didn’t know. I hadn’t met you. It was Delaney—he told me about you and—"

  "I do not like him."

  "Well, I almost knifed him once and almost shot him in the balls once, so I wouldn’t say we were the best of friends. But recently I decided to try and pare down the number of enemies I have. Because I’m afraid I made a powerful one of the preacher’s wife."

  "I do not like her. She called us heathens and said we would all go to hell. But I do not believe in hell."

  "Neither do I, Chief. Neither do I."

  "Anyways, I’d love it if you’d come work for me. I’ll have a suit made for you and a top hat. You’d just open the door for the proper type and not let the varmints in. I’ll pay you well, I—"

  "I do not need money. You teach Tule how to read."

  He jerked his head at the boy standing behind me.

  "Well, I’m not really a teac—"

  "Hazel told me you were teaching her how to read so she can get a better job and take better care of herself. Teach Tule when you teach Hazel, and I will work for you."

  So now I had a doorman, and I was a teacher and a guild master. If I had one more hat, I could join the circus.

  "How do you stop a cat fight?"

  Two buckets of cold water, but I only had the one, so I threw the water at the girl on the left and the bucket at the one on the right. That got them separated, and both glared at me. So I said my piece:

  "I was waiting until tomorrow to explain how this business is run. But know this, it is run out of my house, and we will have peace here. Now, I have one-year contracts with each of you. I don’t care if you work out in the salon, sipping champagne, or if you cause trouble and I ship you off to the Indian village, where you kneel on a dirt floor and give blowjobs to the whole tribe. Either way, I get my money, so ladies, don’t test me. That said, I understand that things are a little rough right now, with the floor containing your bedrooms not quite finished. But if it’s not finished by Saturday morning, you’ll get to see me hang the carpenter by his nuts from the flagpole out front. So you have that to look forward to."

  "So here are the house rules: You will treat each other like a loving sister, because that’s what I want you to be—sisters. It’s us against the world. You wouldn’t be in the profession if life were fair or men were always nice and kind to women. In today’s world, we’re third-class citizens. Just ask any 'Gentleman.' The ranking goes Gentleman, Stallion, Wife, and only the gentleman is a piece of property. In this house, women rank number one. If a client starts to do anything you don’t want him to do, then we, sisters, will stop him. Men may be in control everywhere else, but they are not in our house. Back to the rules: no lying to your sisters. It’s okay to lie to the men, in fact, it’s almost required, right?"

  "'OHHH I’ve never seen one so big before, please be careful when you put it in.'"

  "So no lying to your sisters, no stealing from anyone. You don’t want to go to jail here; you’d plead with me to send you to the Indian village. So, no stealing. That includes clients. You’ll all get your fair share of miners, more than your fair share, I’d say. They haven’t seen a woman in quite a while and are almost flush with gold or cash. Lastly, treat each other with respect. God knows we get damn little from anyone else; the least we can do is respect each other, because I do respect you ladies. You work hard, you crossed a continent to be here. I’ll get to know your names eventually. Ten new people at once makes it hard, but I’ll learn your names. Now, it’s late, you’ve traveled far, so get to bed, except for you."

  I pointed to one of the girls in the back.

  "'Me?'"

  "'Yes, I need to speak with you in my office.'"

  "'Ok.'"

  I went in and sat behind my desk as the little thing stood in front of the desk.

  "'How old are you?'"

  "'I’m 18, ma’am.'"

  "'18, hmm, and what's your name and birthday?'"

  "'I’m Arielle Wilson, and my birthday is August 11th.'"

  "'August 11th, that’d make you a Leo on the astrology chart. I want to read your stars, Arielle. I want to know your future, don’t you, Arielle?'" She nods yes.

  "'Great. What year were you born? I need that to tell your future.'"

  "'I was born in 1833.'"

  "'Yes, I knew I could tell your future. It’s written in the stars. Yep, for the next year and two months, you are going to be a chambermaid, because you aren’t going to be a whore until you turn 18 years old.'"

  "'But I told you I’m 18 years old. I’ve been whoring for three years now. My da put me on the streets and said it was time I earned my keep.'"

  "'It should’a been your Da out in the street, taking it up his bum if he put his thirteen-year-old daughter out on the streets. Can you read? It’s obvious that you can’t do arithmetic. Can you read, Ari?'"

  "'No, ma’am, I can’t. My Da didn’t put no store in women learning anything. Said everything we need to learn we’d learn in the kitchen or the bedroom.'"

  "'Well, your father better hope I never earn enough money to go back to New York City, or he might be the second man I’ve killed. Starting tomorrow, you're getting lessons: reading, writing, and 'rithmetic. Then, on August 12th of your 18th year, if you want to go back to whoring, you can.'"

  "'What about my contract? I made my X. You said you owned me for a year.'"

  "'Yeah, but you lied and said you were eighteen, because I know Dona would never have taken you if you weren’t eighteen.'"

  "'My Da said that men like us young.'"

  "'Yes, bad men, Ari, do, but we’re never letting men like that through our doors.'"

  "'Do you have brothers and sisters, Ari?'"

  "'Two little sisters, 12 and 9. I always took care of them when I wasn’t working.'"

  "'Good. Instead of a maid—we have plenty of them—you can be a nanny to Romeo. Good night, Ari. Get to bed, we have a long day tomorrow.'"

  So I went to bed with murder in my heart, "two little sisters 12 and 9." When I got up, I wrote a letter to "Madd Maggie" and enclosed some cash.

  "Week 14: Random Event"

  "Who do I thank for this?"

  Two miners, Zeke and Hamish, came to town bearing bags of gold. "Really, is it you, Fortuna, I should be thanking, or have I just started doing what I should have been doing all along?" I kidded them both, saying it "seems mighty convenient that you both strike rich veins the same week that the girls arrived." They grinned, saying it was just a lucky coincidence. I told them I didn’t believe in coincidences, but they did good and "everything was on the house for them Saturday night, except for the tips the girls get to keep them for themselves, so be generous, you rich miners."

  "Week 15: Expected Scene"

  "How do you stop trouble before it happens?"

  Saturday we had our grand opening, and I’d insisted that we go big and classy. The girls were all dressed in ball gowns, sitting in pairs on settees when we opened. The miners had also taken my advice, or feared my wrath, or were just afraid they wouldn’t be let in, so they came as cleaned up as this muddy town would allow: washed, hair brushed, and beards trimmed. One old-timer had actually shaved. The men at first were allowed in in groups of twenty or thirty people; that's about all the grand living room could fit comfortably. The men were being shy, so I had the girls seat them on the settees and pour champagne for the miners. That's when I heard the first signs of trouble.

  "'Injun, get away from that door! I will not be blocked by a heathen!'" I knew Chief was there to protect us, but I couldn’t just leave him out there to deal with her on his own. So I went over, threw the door open, and invited in the church ladies.

  "'Welcome, ladies, we’re all having a glass of champagne. I’d offer you some, but I know how you ladies hate demon alcohol. Perhaps a lemonade might sweeten your sour pusses.'" She gave it her best shot. She screamed, "'You are all going to hell for this, I hope you know, and the decent people of the town won’t have. I’m going right to the owner of this hotel and have you all thrown out into the street. What do you all think of that?'"

  A couple of the girls laughed. One of them said to another, "'Imagine that, me walking the streets again.'" More of the girls laughed, then the miners laughed. The laughter—that’s what really enraged her. She was used to respect because her husband was respected, but no one here respected either one of them.

  "'No one's going to be walking the streets. I spoke with the church lady the other day and implored her to use her brain, but she ignored my advice. If you want to speak to the owner of the hotel, let’s you, I, and the rest of you gossiping bitches go down and talk to him.'"

  Sawyer Douglas was the kind of man who could see danger approaching, and he always handled it the same way: he called in the manager and said, "'Handle it.'"

  Pinch-face yelled at the manager that she wanted to see the owner; she wanted Douglas, and she wanted him now. The manager replied that Mr. Douglas no longer owned the hotel. Pinch-face yelled some more and said that she wanted to talk to who owns it now. I said, "'Perhaps I...'" Pinch-face wheeled on me and said, "'Shut up, you Jezebel whore!'" She wheeled back to the manager, demanding to know who owned it. The manager replied, "'There are co-owners now.'" I signaled Ari. Pinch-face screamed, "'Who are they?'" The manager replied, "'The Miners Guild owns the first two floors, the restaurant and bar. Miss Rousseau owns the rest of the hotel.'" Pinch-face screamed some more and demanded to see the Guild representative.

  Ari came back with the sheriff. "'I’m the Guildmaster, and as such, I’m asking you ladies to leave the hotel. You are disturbing our guests, and please do not come back. You are not welcome here and are thereby trespassing on private property. I do not wish to take legal action against any of you, but I will if forced to do so.'" The ladies behind pinch-face saw the sheriff and quickly melted out the door. I knew pinch-face wouldn’t, so I stepped back as she continued her tirade against me, the miners, the hotel, and finally the sheriff as he dragged her out the door.

  Delaney came out of the bar and said, "'Jesus, I never had a chance against you, did I?'" and walked out the door.

  "What did Fortuna do to me this week?"

  One of the miners had so much fun Saturday night that they fell down the stairs and broke a leg. One of my girls, Hannah Moore, was actually a nurse before giving that up for an "actual profitable profession." But she still has the skills and a sweet personality. She had Eli McCracken in splints, and a few of the miners carried him to an empty room, where he’d be our guest for at least a few weeks. As Guildmistress, I hired a miner to work his claim for him so his indiscretion only cost him 33%. I began to think he might never go back to the mine again. But eventually, he got bored lying in bed. Hannah had other duties and couldn’t see to his every need all day and all night long; even a go-getter multitasker like Hannah has to sleep sometime.

  The preacher came to see me after his Sunday service, the first service his wife hadn’t attended since they met. He was much nicer than his wife; no Jezebel or harlots were spoken, and surprisingly, no condemnation to hell either. Of course, he wanted a favor, so more flies with honey, right? He asked in "Christian mercy" if I might speak to the sheriff about dropping the charges. I told him that I was a Buddhist, not a Christian, and as a Buddhist, I had no desire to see anyone suffer. If he would personally promise to keep her away from the hotel, I’d go right away and speak to the sheriff.

  On Monday, I was informed by Mrs. Patton that I and none of my "hussies" were welcome to shop in her store. Monday afternoon at the Miner’s Guild meeting, I put forth a motion to start our own store, selling to miners at cost and anyone else who cared to shop with us for a reasonable profit. On Tuesday, Mr. Patton came to the hotel and apologized for his wife's actions, offered the miners and my girls a 30% discount on all purchases in the future, and a box of chocolates. I told him that I’d recommend to the guild we delay opening the store while we built trust back between us, and that we’d take the 40% discount he’d so kindly offered. He smiled weakly and left.

  "What's it like in Paradise?"

  "Since when is the Miwok village part of Paradise?"

  The Chief came in the next morning to see me and said he had a favor to ask. He wants me to represent the tribe to the Bureau of Indian Affairs official that is due this week. I said I was flattered, but shouldn’t the Chief, him, represent the tribe? He said, "'I’m the Warchief, and we do not want to make war. We want the sneaky Chief, the Chief who’ll knife the government in the back for them. We took a vote last night, you are the Chief now.'"

  So I asked him what do you want from the government and do you own the land the mines and Paradise is built on? "'Yes, we have a treaty, we own the land, but we want nothing, just to be left alone.'"

  "'Fine, I’ll help. Go get the treaty and meet me in the lawyer’s office in half an hour.'"

  "'Chief, are you sure that’s all you want?'" I asked. "'You could get a lot of money.'"

  "'No, this is what we want.'"

  "'Okay, Chief, just sign this contract, and when the Indian Affairs man shows up, bring him to my office.'"

  The Indian Affairs man seemed confused why he was in some office meeting the Miwok Chief when I explained that I was the Chief. He said, "'That’s not how it works, you’re not Miwok and you're a woman.'"

  "'No, I’ve been adopted into the tribe and legally made chief by a vote. The Miwok have long admired the democracy of the U.S. government and have adopted it as the rule of law in the tribe and on all tribal lands. What can we do for the United States?'"

  "'I’m here to renegotiate the treaty. We need the tribe to cede back some of the land granted in the original treaty.'"

  "'What land is it that the government wants back?'"

  "'Not much land at all, and I’m to offer the tribe a thousand dollars. We just want the land that the town of Paradise sits on and a few of the larger mines.'"

  "'I’m sorry, sir, but that just isn’t possible. We’ve sold a 25-year lease to that land to the Paradise Miners Guild.'"

  "'But a guild can’t own a town.'"

  "'The guild does not. The guild donated the land leased to the town for the length of the lease. As of this time, there is no mayor to accept the donation; the donation was made to the town sheriff, the highest-ranking official.'"

  "'This is all very irregular, very irregular indeed. I’ll need to speak to the Guildmaster and then get back to you.'"

  "'Well, you’re in luck, I’m the Guildmaster, and these are the signed, notarized documents. If you need copies, I’m sure the bank can’t draw up a set of them for you.'"

  "'I’m sure that my supervisors will still want to take this land.'"

  "'Yes, they might be, but unlike treaties with the Indians, legal contracts held by American citizens will have to go through a court of law, something the natives don’t have access to. Somehow, I think a jury of citizens will side with the guild over a government money grab as our attorney called it. What do you think, sir?'"

  "'I think I just wasted two weeks traveling across the country for nothing is what I think.'"

  "'Well, have a pleasant trip back.'"

  "'I’m staying for a few days at the hotel before the stage back home.'"

  "'Well, I’ll your hotel bill is on us. The girls on the third floor are not included.'"

  "'Yes, well that’s very kind, Guildmistress.'" That night on the third floor:

  "'I take it the guild owns this as well?'"

  "'No, sir, this is all mine.'"

  "Week 16: Expected Scene"

  "What good are night terrors?"

  Last night I woke to the most god-awful scream. It was Arielle Wilson; she had another of her nightmares. I went in, spoke to her, and asked her what her dream was about as I held her hand and let her cry. She said her Da had shoved her head in the washbasin and held her under until she drowned. She said she was afraid to die. So I told her to lie down and I was going to tell her something a wise man once said.

  "'Think back to before you were born, okay?'"

  "'Yes.'"

  "'Good. How do you feel? Are you afraid?'"

  "'No, I’m not afraid.'"

  "'Good. Death is just like before you are born; it’s nothing to be scared of.' "

  "'OK.'"

  "'Do you understand? Nothing can hurt you here.'"

  "'I know, but then, I worry about my sisters.'"

  "'I know, Ari, honey. Just lie down, hold my hand, and picture that time before you were born, alright, honey? We’ll talk more about this stuff tomorrow after you’ve had some rest.'"

  The next day in the mail came the letter I’d been hoping for from my father.

  Dear Sienna,

  A strange woman named Madd Maggie came by the house last night. She brought two little girls, a letter to me from you, and a bag full of gold nuggets. Of course, you know that we’d do everything that you asked, and worry not about the girls. I’ll get them enrolled into school myself, and when the youngest hits sixteen, we’ll bring or send them to you. It’s a heartbreaking story, which I kept from your mother. I told her that they were your friends' kids and they needed looking after. We’ll make sure they have everything they need. Also, you don’t have to worry about my finances anymore. The ship I thought was lost, and our futures too, was just delayed. I’m so sorry you tried to take on the role of supplying us with money. Your mother and I and the little girls have more money than we’ll ever spend, and I’m done investing. It did give us a big payout, but the worry I caused you this past year is unforgivable.

  All my Love,

  Father

  I called Ari into my office. She and Tule were taking reading lessons. I told Ari that her sisters were now living with my parents in a big house across from Central Park, and as soon as they were old enough, they’d come out here to live with us. She came around the desk and hugged me, crying tears of joy. I told her her sisters would be starting school and if Ari worked on her reading and writing, she could write letters to them and they to her. She bolted from the office telling Hazel she needed to learn fast. As Hazel was just learning herself, I went out to help them.

  "What did I do to deserve this?"

  All the girls were fighting at breakfast. Half of the girls wanted to pool their money and buy one of those newfangled sewing machines from the Sears catalog. The other half wanted to install indoor privies. I saw the simplest way to settle the argument.

  "'What if, just this one time, I put in enough money so we could get both, but only if that sewing machine gets used to clothe all of you girls, and I get to take the first shit in the privies.'"

  "How did Paradise ever get to feel like home?"

  Since we started the Miners Guild and the miners began cooperating instead of competing, the returns from the mines went through the roof. Even the poorest of the miners could walk into the fanciest New York restaurant and order whatever they wanted for the rest of their lives. Zeke, Hamish, and Oliver all did exceptionally well, and through them, so did we. The girls and I had enough money for ten lifetimes. But I still had one final plan to spring on them next week.

  "Week 17"

  "How does the Adventure End?"

  "'Okay, ladies, let's call this meeting to order. We have things to discuss and I have a final proposal for you to vote on, okay?'"

  "'The mines have tapped out. The miners are getting ready to move on, which means we have no more customers, not that we need them because we are all mighty wealthy too. So what I propose is we close Aphrodite’s Place here in Paradise and we reopen in San Francisco. I mean, we took over the town of Paradise, just think what happens when we control San Fran, maybe we can even get women the vote. Ari, there’s a train that goes from New York to San Francisco. We could take a little trip while the other girls set up the house. What do you all say?'"

  "'We all say, Aye.'"

  "'So do we. We’re businessmen now; no more mining for us.'"

  "'Alright then, meeting adjourned. Go pack, girls, we leave tomorrow.'"