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
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- eight
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- thirty
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- thirty-five
- thirty-six
- thirty-seven
- thirty-eight
- thirty-nine
- forty
- forty-one
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- 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
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- five
- six
- seven
- eight
- nine
- ten
- eleven
- twelve
- thirteen
- fourteen
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- twenty-one
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- twenty-nine
- thirty
- thirty-one
- thirty-two
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- 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
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- five
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- thirty-one
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- 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
Charlies hair was swept up on top of her head in a loose bun that allowed wispy little curls to fall around her neck and forehead. Seans eyes traveled from her slender white neck to the hem of her flowered dress and then swung back to her face. In those seconds he took in her slim waist, small breasts, and gently rounded hips. She was so utterly feminine that Sean was speechless.
The pancakes are burning, Charlie whispered softly, having stood silent for his inspection.
Sean spun back to the stove, relieved to have a diversion. Shes darling, he said to himself, and shes my darling.
Charlie took a place at the table and waited for Sean to join her. Sean ate his meal without once looking at his plate. Charlies face was flushed with embarrassment and something else she couldnt quite define.
You look very beautiful, Sean said at the end of the meal, easily holding her gaze with his own.
Thank you. Charlie was so pleased by his words that she felt tears sting her eyes and looked swiftly down at her coffee cup.
When it was time to leave for church, it seemed to Charlie the most natural thing in the world to have Sean hitch up the buggy and help her up to her seat, an act she had never before let him perform. She felt like a lady for the first time in her life as Sean held the reins loosely in his grip and drove the buggy from the livery.
I havent been in church since I was a child. Im not sure Im going to like this.
What has you worried? Sean asked her softly, always alert when she spoke of her life before they met.
Churches are full of hypocrites.
Give me an example.
Well, you know, when you see a man in church on Sunday and then watch him stagger out of one of the town bars on Tuesday night.
Youve seen that happen?
No, I guess I havent, but I hear things.
Charlotte, Sean asked as he realized his wifes fears were causing her judgmental remarks. Have you ever been to this church?
No, she said softly. She didnt have anything more to say, but fear was closing her throat and she couldnt have spoken had she tried.
Charlotte, try to relax, Sean bent close and whispered in his wifes ear.
I am relaxed.
Sean smiled at her reply. Her hands were clenched so tightly in her lap that her knuckles were white. The last song had been sung, and the minister was now at the front of the church behind a small pulpit for the sermon.
The Donovans were seated alone in a rear pew, and Sean was thankful for the privacy. He reached for one of her hands and brought it to the bench between them, where it was nearly hidden by the fullness of Charlies dress.