Dawn of the Golden Promise Read Online Free PDF Page B

possibilities.”
    Again Morgan felt chilled. He closed his eyes and attempted to suppress the rush that swept through him—fear mixed with a certain excitement.
    He could not bring himself to face the idea that he might end up totally paralyzed. To live with useless legs was bad enough. But at least he still lived as a human being. He could still dress himself and feed himself and move about the house with some freedom. Even with his limited mobility, he could still be an active father to his children, a real husband to Finola. He could still call himself a man.
    What if the paralysis should grow worse?
    He thought death would be eminently preferable.
    But if the bullet could be removed?
    He opened his eyes. “So, then—what do you advise?”
    Dr. Dunne’s expression brightened. “There are two surgeons whose work would seem particularly promising. Do I have your permission to correspond with them in your behalf?”
    Morgan moistened his lips, then nodded. “Where are these miracle workers? Surely not in Ireland.”
    â€œOne is in London, actually. The other trained in Vienna, but his practice is in the States.”
    â€œI can’t say I fancy the idea of an Englishmen with a knife to my back,” Morgan said dryly. “But I suppose it will do no harm to write to the both of them.”
    The doctor picked up his case and turned to go, but Morgan stopped him. “We will say nothing of this to my wife for now. You are aware of the difficulties she continues to experience.”
    Dr. Dunne nodded, waiting.
    â€œThe dreams and attacks of panic grow worse,” Morgan went on, his concern for her renewed by each word. “I will do nothing to trouble her further. Whatever I decide will have to wait until she is stronger.”
    The surgeon’s expression was skeptical. “I understand, naturally. Nevertheless, I would urge you not to delay. The longer you wait—” He broke off. “About your wife—as I’ve told you, I feel strongly that time will make all the difference for her condition. Time, and a normal, fulfilling life with you and the children.”
    After the doctor left the room, Morgan lay staring up at the ceiling, his arms locked behind his head. He tried not to think about paralysis or new surgeons or what might lie ahead for him. Instead, he turned his thoughts to Finola.
    Time , Dr. Dunne had said. Time, and a normal, fulfilling life: that had been the physician’s prescription for Finola’s recovery.
    But just how normal or fulfilling would life be for Finola if her husband were to end up paralyzed entirely?
    Or dead?
    If only she had someone besides himself to depend on. On the heels of the thought came the reminder that Finola very well might have someone else. Parents. Siblings. Other relatives. If only he knew where to find them.
    He had hoped to hear from Cassidy long before now. At first, Frank had kept in touch fairly often, but of late his letters had grown further and further apart. There was no telling where he was these days. Apparently, he had learned nothing of any consequence, else he would have written.
    Morgan’s stomach churned at the prospect of what Cassidy’s search might eventually disclose. There was no knowing, after all, what lay buried in Finola’s past.
    When she had first appeared at Nelson Hall, she had been mute and without the slightest memory of who she was or where she had come from. All she knew was her given name—and Morgan had occasionally wondered if even that bit of information was dependable. As time went on, very little in the way of remembrance had been granted her, and she seemed to have made peace with the missing pieces of her past. For her sake, Morgan had also tried to look ahead.
    Yet, as much as he feared learning the truth about her background, if she had family somewhere who cared about her, who grieved for her absence, it could only be in Finola’s best