Chapters (241)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Contents
- Whatever Tomorrow Brings
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- The Taylor and Donovan Families1871
- one
- two
- three
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- five
- six
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- eight
- nine
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- thirty
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- thirty-five
- thirty-six
- thirty-seven
- thirty-eight
- thirty-nine
- forty
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- forty-six
- forty-seven
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- 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
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- thirty-one
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- 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
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- 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
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- 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
About the hanging?
Charlie nodded.
No. I havent seen any of them for two years, Sean said as he stared intently at the eggs in the bowl.
Where do they live?
Glad for any question to distract his painful thoughts, Sean answered promptly. Everyone is in Santa Rosa except my fatherhe lives in Hawaii. If you havent heard of it, its a group of islands out in the Pacific Ocean.
Charlie watched as he held the bowl in his arm and beat the eggs furiously with a fork. Once again she was overcome with curiosity about this man.
Why is your father in Hawaii?
Hes a missionary.
Charlie blinked in surprise, and then her face lit with understanding. Thats why you pray before meals, she almost whispered, because your father is a missionary.
Sean knew he had to weigh his next words carefully. With missionary parents, I probably did learn about prayer at a younger age than some, but thats not why I pray now.
It was on the tip of Charlies tongue to say why do you? but she suddenly thought she might be intruding. Instead she picked up on something else he had said.
You didnt mention your mother.
She died when I was 14. Even now it pained Sean to say those words. We were at my aunts house in San Francisco. None of us knew she had tuberculosis until the end. We had a few good weeks together, and then she died quietly one afternoon during her nap.
This time it was Seans turn to wonder if he had shared too much. Talking about his mother made him feel vulnerable, and once again he concentrated on breakfast.
Some five minutes later they sat down together to a meal of scrambled eggs with bits of salt pork. Sean had also fried large slices of bread. Charlies contribution was her great-tasting coffee.
There was no conversation about who would wash or dry, but both husband and wife pitched in after the meal to clean the kitchen.
Sean moved into the living room to read the newspaper and was pleased to see Charlie join him. By the time they had finished with the dishes, shed grown quite pensive, and Sean was glad to see that she wasnt trying to avoid him. There had been something on his mind from the first night hed come here, and he knew now was finally a good time to mention it.
Charlotte, Sean called her name and waited for her to look up from her account books. Ive never thanked you for what you did for me at the hanging. It took a lot of courage to come forward and marry a bank robber. Im not really sure why you did, but I do know Im grateful and in one sense, I owe you my life. Thank you.