Chapters (241)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Contents
- Whatever Tomorrow Brings
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- The Taylor and Donovan Families1871
- one
- two
- three
- four
- five
- six
- seven
- eight
- nine
- ten
- eleven
- twelve
- thirteen
- fourteen
- fifteen
- sixteen
- seventeen
- eighteen
- nineteen
- twenty
- twenty-one
- twenty-two
- twenty-three
- twenty-four
- twenty-five
- twenty-six
- twenty-seven
- twenty-eight
- twenty-nine
- thirty
- thirty-one
- thirty-two
- thirty-three
- thirty-four
- thirty-five
- thirty-six
- thirty-seven
- thirty-eight
- thirty-nine
- forty
- forty-one
- forty-two
- forty-three
- forty-four
- forty-five
- forty-six
- forty-seven
- forty-eight
- forty-nine
- fifty
- fifty-one
- fifty-two
- fifty-three
- fifty-four
- fifty-five
- fifty-six
- fifty-seven
- fifty-eight
- fifty-nine
- sixty
- sixty-one
- epilogue
- Dedication
- The Taylor and Donovan Families—1871
- Prologue
- one
- two
- three
- four
- five
- six
- seven
- eight
- nine
- ten
- eleven
- twelve
- thirteen
- fourteen
- fifteen
- sixteen
- seventeen
- eighteen
- nineteen
- twenty
- twenty-one
- twenty-two
- twenty-three
- twenty-four
- twenty-five
- twenty-six
- twenty-seven
- twenty-eight
- twenty-nine
- thirty
- thirty-one
- thirty-two
- thirty-three
- thirty-four
- thirty-five
- thirty-six
- thirty-seven
- thirty-eight
- thirty-nine
- forty
- forty-one
- forty-two
- forty-three
- forty-four
- epilogue
- Sean Donovan
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- Visalia and Santa Rosa Families—1876
- one
- two
- three
- four
- five
- six
- seven
- eight
- nine
- ten
- eleven
- twelve
- thirteen
- fourteen
- fifteen
- sixteen
- seventeen
- eighteen
- nineteen
- twenty
- twenty-one
- twenty-two
- twenty-three
- twenty-four
- twenty-five
- twenty-six
- twenty-seven
- twenty-eight
- twenty-nine
- thirty
- thirty-one
- thirty-two
- thirty-three
- thirty-four
- thirty-five
- thirty-six
- thirty-seven
- thirty-eight
- thirty-nine
- forty
- forty-one
- forty-two
- forty-three
- forty-four
- forty-five
- forty-six
- forty-seven
- forty-eight
- forty-nine
- fifty
- fifty-one
- Epilogue
- Dedication
- Willits and Santa Rosa Families—1881
- Dear Marcail
- prologue
- one
- two
- three
- four
- five
- six
- seven
- eight
- nine
- ten
- eleven
- twelve
- thirteen
- fourteen
- fifteen
- sixteen
- seventeen
- eighteen
- nineteen
- twenty
- twenty-one
- twenty-two
- twenty-three
- twenty-four
- twenty-five
- twenty-six
- twenty-seven
- twenty-eight
- twenty-nine
- thirty
- thirty-one
- thirty-two
- thirty-three
- thirty-four
- thirty-five
- thirty-six
- thirty-seven
- thirty-eight
- thirty-nine
- forty
- forty-one
- forty-two
- forty-three
- forty-four
- forty-five
- forty-six
- forty-seven
- forty-eight
- forty-nine
- fifty
- fifty-one
- fifty-two
- fifty-three
- fifty-four
- fifty-five
- fifty-six
- fifty-seven
- fifty-eight
- fifty-nine
- sixty
- epilogue
- Books by Lori Wick
- About the Author
Bobbies drifting thoughts were interrupted again and again as the stage stopped and other passengers boarded or disembarked. It was well into the evening when a very tired young woman finally arrived in Santa Rosa. It felt wonderful to stretch her legs. As Bobbie set out on the walk home, she was also thankful that the skies were clear. Her fatigue fell away as she passed well-known sightsthe post office, Riggs Mercantile, the barber shopeach one familiar and beloved even in the rapidly descending darkness.
Spotting her house, Bobbie began to run. Her parents were not expecting her for two more days, but they wouldnt be sorry to see her now. Bobbie stopped just short of throwing open the door. Drawing in a deep breath, she put her bags down. She rapped hard and stood still, telling herself to breathe as she waited.
Maryanne, never dreaming her daughter would arrive early, wished she had brought a lantern with her to the door so she could see who was on her front step.
Who is it, Mary? Jake called from somewhere in the living room.
Tell him its Bobbie, Bobbie said softly before her mother could make a sound, and then Bobbie watched her mother dissolve into tears. She didnt move to touch her daughter or try to speak to her; she couldnt. She cried uncontrollably in a way that she hadnt for over five years.
Jake came on the scene to find his daughters arms around his wife, attempting to comfort her and stop her tears. Jake added his own tears as his arms went around both of his girls, and the three of them stood still, no one noticing the cold air coming in from the open door.
Mom, try to stop, Bobbie pleaded.
Come and sit down, Mary. Jake led his wife to the sofa and sat on one side of her. Bobbie quickly retrieved her bags from the porch and closed the front door. Not noticing that the house looked wonderful, her attention was centered wholly on her distraught mother.
Im sorry, Mom, I shouldnt have surprised you, Bobbie said as she sat on the sofa next to her mother. The words were like cold water in the face of the distressed woman.
Oh Bobbie, no, she choked out. Im just so glad to see you and its been so long. She cried some more but was finally gaining some control. Bobbie glanced over to see her father grinning at her. She smiled back.
Welcome home.
Thanks. Bobbies smile nearly stretched off her face.
Stand up and let me look at you. Bobbie complied and stood quietly for his inspection.
Have I changed? Bobbie asked the question with exaggerated innocence and her father chuckled.
Youre not much taller but theres definitely more to you. Jake Bradfords eyes sparkled and it was Bobbies turn to chuckle.