CHAPTER ELEVEN
JANUARY 1869
WASHINGTON, D.C.
The distinctive buildings of the nation’s capital rose up around me in the winter cold, but I couldn’t get my mind to accept that I was there, much less that in only a few minutes, I would be hearing the pioneers of the women’s movement speak at the National Female Suffrage Convention.
“James, this is the best Christmas present you could have given me.” I snuggled against him as we walked, grateful for his generosity and encouragement in getting involved with the movement.
“I know how much it means to you,” he said with a warm smile. “I only hope I can be of help in establishing you among their ranks.”
He had been a supporter of the movement from its pre-Civil War roots, so his name held sway here. My hopes were high that by the end of the
