Chapters (53)
- Praise
- Also by
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- Donegal, Ireland - 1911
- Delia
- Nora
- Delia
- Nora
- The Titanic - 1912
- Delia
- Nora
- Delia
- Nora
- Delia
- Nora
- Delia
- Nora
- Delia
- New York - 1912
- Delia
- Nora
- Delia
- Nora
- Delia
- Nora
- Dallas, Texas - 1913
- Delia
- Donegal - 1913
- Nora
- Shotgun City - 1913
- Delia
- New York - 1913
- Nora
- Humboldt Ranch - 1913
- Delia
- Shotgun City - 1913
- Nora
- Delia
- Nora
- Delia
- Nora
- Delia
- Nora
- Delia
- Nora
- Delia
- Nora
- Delia
- Delia
- Acknowledgments
- Suggested Questions for Discussion
Together, we rushed across the street and into the crowded ground floor of the hotel. A handsome, impeccably dressed man in his thirties, with silky, black hair and brown eyes, approached us. He took Mayflower’s hands in his and kissed her on both cheeks.
“My dear Mrs. Humboldt,” he said in a low drawl, “what a sight for sore eyes you are. I see your fastidious husband far too often and you far too rarely. I tell him all the time to bring you—you are so much more fun than he is.”
“This is Mr. Kearney, the owner,” Mayflower began, but I was about to burst with impatience. I stepped between him and Mayflower and put my face close to his.
“Have you seen Lily?” I shouted. “Aidan O’Hanlon’s daughter? She’s lost. Did she come in here? Can you question your staff? Can you guess where she might be? Can you—”
Mr. Kearney’s face creased in a smile. He put his hand on my arm. “Don’t fret so, dear lady. I have an idea just where she might be. Wait here, please.”
I made to follow him, but Mayflower restrained me. “Let it be, honey,” she said. “You can trust Mr. Kearney. Come, sit down now.”
I forced myself to sit still while we waited for news, but I couldn’t keep my hands from fidgeting or my legs from trembling. I allowed myself a small sliver of hope that Mr. Kearney would find her. I had sensed immediately that he was a man who, despite his youth, wielded a great deal of power in town. I bowed my head and said a prayer.
“Delia? Mayflower? What are you doing here? Where’s Lily?”
I shot to my feet as Aidan’s voice called out from behind. Panic gripped me as I spun around to face him.
“S-she’s lost,” I blurted out. “Mr. Kearney’s gone to try to find her.”
Aidan’s face turned pale. “What do you mean, ‘lost’?”
Mayflower stood up. “I wouldn’t jump to conclusions just yet, Aidan. I’m sure she’s in the hotel somewhere.”
Aidan gave us a wild look. His rage filled the space between us. Instinctively, I backed away. “For God’s sake, she could be anywhere and yet you both sit here waiting for Kearney to find her? What is the matter with you?” He fixed his eyes on me. “And you—didn’t I tell you not to bring Lily here? Didn’t I insist on it? Didn’t I—”
He was interrupted by Mr. Kearney approaching across the hotel foyer holding Lily by the hand. “Here she is,” he said, “safe and sound.”
Aidan ran to the child and enveloped her in his arms. “Oh, Lily,” he said, “thank God.”