Read Online Land of a Thousand Dreams by BJ Hoff - Free Book Online Page B

search of new victims. Once settled in the slum districts, they then found themselves the victims of unscrupulous landlords and street gangs.
    It seemed there was no escaping those who preyed on the less fortunate; in the New World, as in the Old, violence and injustice shadowed the poor.
    It incensed Sara that New York’s immigrants, the majority of whom had already endured shameful oppression in their native countries, found still more of the same upon reaching America. Arriving with dreams of liberty and opportunity, too often they were greeted by only more misery.
    The various immigrant associations were only now beginning to be effective. While helpful in a number of areas, they still functioned primarily as mutual aid and fraternal societies, with no real voice or power in government.
    Recently, though, a new body, the Commissioners of Emigration, had been appointed by the state. In addition to the mayors of New York and Brooklyn—as well as agents of the Irish and German societies—private citizens like Lewis Farmington had been appointed to serve as commissioners and committee heads.
    â€œDillon and Verplanck have both agreed that a variety of occupations should be represented,” her father was saying. “Jess Dalton has agreed to serve, as have two of the Catholic priests. We’ve appointed an attorney, and hope to have two or three policemen as well. Which reminds me,” he said, after taking a sip of water, “we’ve approached Michael about serving.”
    Sara’s cheeks grew warm under his scrutiny. Annoyed with herself, she forced a casual tone. “Michael? Well…certainly, he should be…an ideal choice.”
    â€œI thought so, too,” he replied, smiling. Obviously, he enjoyed flustering her. And just as obviously, he knew the mention of Michael never failed to do so.
    â€œWhat with Michael being an immigrant himself,” he went on, “and a policeman—he’ll prove invaluable to us, I’m sure. Will he accept, do you think?”
    â€œWhy…yes…at least, I should hope he would. But, of course,” Sara added quickly, “I can’t speak for Michael.”
    One eyebrow lifted in a look of wry amusement. “You will, soon enough,” he said. “Wives seem to take on this uncanny ability to predict their husbands’ reactions, I’ve noticed.”
    â€œI can’t imagine anybody predicting Michael. Or you ,” Sara shot back.
    â€œMmm. Perhaps.” He dabbed at a spot of pudding on the lapel of his coat. “Michael’s stopping by later, did I tell you?” he asked casually. “To discuss the subcommission.”
    â€œTonight?” Sara jackknifed to her feet, banging the leg of her chair against the table.
    Eyes glinting, her father nodded. “Why, yes,” he said, getting to his feet, “he should be here within the hour. We’ll take care of business first, and then you can have him all to yourself.”
    â€œI must change!” Sara nearly pulled one end of the dinner cloth off the table as she whirled around to leave.
    Laughing, her father offered his arm and escorted her from the dining room. They stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “I don’t suppose you two have set the date yet?” he asked casually.
    Instinctively, Sara glanced down at the ring on her left hand, a small diamond chip Michael had paid for by working weeks as a night security guard at the pipe factory. Sara thought it quite the most beautiful ring she had ever seen.
    Looking back at her father, she saw that he was waiting for an answer.
    â€œNo, we haven’t,” she said, her voice low. “Not yet.”
    Half-irritated with his good-natured probing, Sara nevertheless understood. She and Michael had been engaged for two months now, with still no word of a wedding date.
    â€œWe’d thought to give Tierney time,” she answered unhappily. “He still…resents