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interests to locate them. Not only did she deserve to be reunited with the ones who loved her, but finding her family would also mean she wouldn’t be left totally on her own if something should happen to him.
    Morgan could not bear to think of her being alone, defenseless, with both Gabriel and Annie to look after. He could ensure her financial security, of course—indeed, he had already seen to it. Most of his grandfather’s considerable fortune would be at Finola’s disposal in the event of his own death. But he wanted more than wealth for her. Her emotional turmoil still troubled him. She was still vulnerable in that regard. Her reluctance to appear in public, her sometimes irrational caution where the children were concerned, the ongoing nightmares—were these not indications that her wounds had yet to heal?
    So in spite of his own misgivings as to what such a discovery might lead to, he continued to pray that Cassidy would somehow come upon the truth about Finola’s past. At the same time, he could not help but implore the Almighty to allow nothing…not even the truth…to come between him and his beloved or bring still more grief to her already burdened spirit.
    Just then she rapped lightly on his door and stepped inside. As always, the sight of her golden loveliness brought a breath-stealing wave of tenderness and love to his heart.
    In spite of his somber thoughts of a moment ago, his smile for her required no effort. “Ah—and I thought the day was cloudy,” he said, extending his hands to her. “But ’tis only that the sun has moved indoors.”
    She hesitated, and her inquisitive look turned to amusement. “Don’t think to distract me by your blarney, sir,” she said, crossing the room to catch his hands in hers. “I came to hear the surgeon’s full report.”
    â€œHe says I am an outrageous man.”
    She arched a brow. “How very perceptive our Dr. Dunne is.”
    â€œHe also says I will continue to require a great deal of affection and attention from my beautiful wife. You may begin.”
    â€œYou are an outrageous man.”
    Her bell-like laugh was delightful. Morgan never missed the slightest opportunity to coax the sound from her. He sometimes thought he could exist on nothing but the warmth of her smile and the music of her laughter.

3
House of Hope
    The hope lives on, age after age…
    GEORGE WILLIAM RUSSELL (AE) (1867–1935)
    Washington, D.C.
    I n the White House, which steamed with summer heat, President Zachary Taylor drew his last breath. It was an abrupt end to a brief term in office.
    The President had fallen ill some days before, at the Independence Day cornerstone ceremony of the Washington Monument. He had served only a year and four months of his term.
    His passing left a country enmeshed in a storm of bitter controversy over the issue of slavery. A country in turmoil because of the thousands of immigrants now swarming its shores—immigrants who filled the cities with strange speech, strange clothing, and even stranger customs. A country in conflict over the question of freedom, on which the young nation of America had allegedly been founded.
    Freedom for all , the founding fathers had proclaimed.
    Freedom for a few , the new, increasingly ugly voices of power demanded.
    The concept of America as a refuge for those fleeing the tyranny and devastation of foreign nations suddenly seemed to be up for debate. To some, this aspect of America’s image had always been dubious. To others, it was a sacred and unchallengeable ideal—to hold up the banner of hope to every refugee who stepped onto the shores of the United States.
    In those cities whose ports now teemed with immigrants, a few courageous visionaries—themselves descended from immigrants—struggled to keep that banner of hope aloft.

    New York City
    It was a testament to the influence—and energy—of millionaire