Chapters (50)
- Cover
- Half Title Page
- Books by Elizabeth Camden
- Title Page
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Historical Note
- Questions for Discussion
- In 2021, look for Luke Delacroix’s story in
- About the Author
- Back Ads
- Back Cover
Peace settled on her shoulders at his words, and she slipped her hand into his. He returned her squeeze, but she wouldn’t put him in an awkward situation, so she withdrew quickly.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, wishing for more but grateful for the fleeting moment of compassion he provided.
Twenty-Five
Contrary to his initial fears, Nathaniel was enjoying the cross-country tour with the McKinleys. After leaving Atlanta, the presidential party moved on to Alabama and Mississippi, stopping several times a day for visits at various locales. At each stop, Nathaniel and Sullivan were always first off the train, meeting with members of the local police to confirm security for the visit. By the time the entourage arrived at the venue, he was usually able to watch some of the ongoing festivities. He had accompanied the president to inspect army bases, lay memorial wreaths, and tour factories. He’d been to county fairs and watched hog racing. He escorted Mrs. McKinley to tour rose gardens and visit orphanages.
Caroline was breathing easier, having gotten a telegram from Gray reporting that Luke was well enough to be discharged from the hospital and was now confined to a private cell at the military base in Havana. Nathaniel still worried about her, though.
Today his challenge was to keep the president safe during a paddlewheel steamboat ride on the Mississippi River. He and Sullivan arrived an hour ahead of the president to secure the venue. A crowd had already begun gathering behind a barricade set up by the police, and Nathaniel scanned the faces, noting the excited families with young children in tow, vendors hawking pastries, and the ever-present journalists with their notebooks. A weathered man with no shirt but a huge pair of angel wings anchored to his back held up a Bible and preached doom.
“Keep an eye on that one,” he said to the local police chief.
“We’ve already got him covered, but you don’t need to worry. Old Jake has been pacing the wharf for years and never done any harm.”
Old Jake might be a harmless loon, but Nathaniel still didn’t like it. He asked a local officer to continue scanning the crowd as he and Sullivan boarded the steamer for an inspection. As steamboats went, this was a compact one, with only three levels: the main deck, the boiler deck, and the hurricane deck on top, where the McKinleys would ride for the best view of the passing countryside.
Nathaniel searched each storage room and closet to ensure no stowaways had slipped aboard. He headed up to the top level, where a spacious sun deck surrounded the pilothouse. A high tea would be served on the deck in the middle of the four-hour tour, and a canvas pavilion had been erected to shield the first lady from the sun.