Caroline tried to blank out the noise from downstairs while sitting at Ida’s bedside. A doctor provided heavy sedation for Ida, who had reached her limit. Downstairs, hammers banged as black crepe was nailed over the windows. Doors and footsteps thudded with the constant coming and going of government personnel. Ida didn’t even flinch as another needle was inserted into her arm to administer more sedative.

“The Major will want to go back to Ohio,” she said, staring out the window. “It’s where our daughters are buried.”

“I shall arrange it,” Caroline said. It would have to be after the official state funeral in Washington, but Ida had the right to determine where her husband would be laid to rest.

Ida turned her head to look at an enormous wreath of white lilies that had been delivered earlier. “I’d like to take the lilies,” she said. “The Major loves the scent of lilies, and he will enjoy having them on the train.”

Caroline glanced at the doctor, who also noticed that Ida continued to speak of her husband in the present tense. Perhaps it was just the shock. She sat by the first lady’s bedside until the additional sedation took effect, but wasted no time in drafting a schedule for someone to be by Ida’s side for the next several days. She couldn’t be left alone, but Caroline had other duties in urgent need of attention.

Mercifully, Ida’s sister was ready to fill the void. “This looks fine,” Pina said after reviewing the schedule. “You look exhausted. I’ll take over.”

Caroline squeezed Pina’s hands, then headed downstairs, where plans for swearing in a new president were underway.

George didn’t want the ceremony in the same house where President McKinley’s body still lay, so a home a few blocks down the street was chosen. Members of the cabinet, a judge, and two newspaper reporters would be the only witnesses.

Caroline was grateful she would not need to attend, for the train carrying the president’s body would leave for Washington within a few hours. What a terrible few days lay before them. Had it only been nine months ago when she and George were planning the grand inaugural festivities?

Now they would plan the president’s funeral.

Nathaniel sat at a small table in the kitchen of the Milburn house. Staff took their breakfast here, but he was unable to eat. He just stared, knowing there was something he should be doing but unable to remember what.

Caroline approached. She hunkered down on the kitchen floor, her hand on his knee, and she was saying something, but she spoke too quickly for him to understand.

“What?” he finally asked.

“The security schedule. President Roosevelt’s train leaves for Washington at six o’clock this evening. You’ve got plenty of soldiers from the army who will be aboard, but they need assignments.”