He broke away from the group and strode down the hospital path toward her. The police parted to let him through, and he tugged on her elbow to pull her from the crowd and toward an empty spot beneath the hospital awning.

“How is he?” she asked through chattering teeth.

“Alive. He kept saying he isn’t seriously hurt, but there’s no such thing as a shot to the abdomen that isn’t serious. One bullet struck his vest button and is only a flesh wound, but the other went into his gut. A third bullet went wild. They’re operating now.”

“Has the first lady been told?”

He nodded. “A messenger was immediately dispatched. You should go to her.”

“Of course. Is there anything else you need me to do?”

“Pray,” he said.

News of the shooting flew through the telegraph wires all over the nation, and reporters were congregating outside the hotel that had been quickly identified as housing the presidential party. Police guarded the doors, but Sven was there and let Caroline through. Inside, she found other members of their party assembled in the dining room, which had been closed to the public.

Army reinforcements had already arrived to help with security, for angry crowds were swarming the police headquarters where the gunman was held. He had been identified as Leon Czolgosz, the son of Polish immigrants and a fervent anarchist.

Caroline didn’t care about the shooter. All she cared about was Ida. A doctor had already gently informed Mrs. McKinley of what had happened and offered her a tonic to soothe her nerves.

“Is it working?” Caroline asked the doctor.

“She’s stable,” he replied. “The hospital is telephoning regular updates to us, and there’s been no change. The hospital director suggested the first lady remain here, as there’s already enough chaos at the hospital. Everything will be touch and go for the next few hours.”

Caroline nodded and headed upstairs. She placed her hand on the cold brass doorknob and bowed her head, praying for wisdom. Enough people were sending up prayers for the president, but she prayed for Ida.

Dear Lord, please give me the wisdom to comfort her. She’s already lost both her daughters. Please don’t take her husband.

She drew a steadying breath and entered the room.

Ida sat in her wheelchair, staring out the hotel window. Her face looked carved in stone, but she was sitting upright and wasn’t in hysterics. A nurse and Pina sat nearby, looking frightened.

“There’s been no change,” Caroline said as she moved to Ida’s side, keeping her voice calm and soothing. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“You can find a pistol, then go out and shoot that man,” Ida replied, her steely tone a clear indication that she was nowhere close to collapsing in a puddle of grief.

“Anything legal?”