Chapters (241)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Contents
- Whatever Tomorrow Brings
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- The Taylor and Donovan Families1871
- one
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- fifty-six
- fifty-seven
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- fifty-nine
- sixty
- sixty-one
- epilogue
- Dedication
- The Taylor and Donovan Families—1871
- Prologue
- one
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- forty
- forty-one
- forty-two
- forty-three
- forty-four
- epilogue
- Sean Donovan
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- Visalia and Santa Rosa Families—1876
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- fifty
- fifty-one
- Epilogue
- Dedication
- Willits and Santa Rosa Families—1881
- Dear Marcail
- prologue
- one
- two
- three
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- fifty
- fifty-one
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- sixty
- epilogue
- Books by Lori Wick
- About the Author
Thank You, Father, for bringing me to this place. Its more wonderful than I could have dreamed. Marcail didnt speak again, but sat quietly and dwelt on verses from Psalm 46: Be still, and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the heathen; I will be exalted in the earth. The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge.
two
Marcail spent the next hour inspecting every inch of the schoolhouse. It was spotless and well equipped. She had brought along a few of her books and stood for a long time just looking at the way they sat on her desk. The platform in front of the blackboard, on which her desk sat, was raised about eight inches from the rest of the schoolroom floor. Marcail, whose height and frame were so diminutive, was very pleased.
After she finished at the schoolhouse, she went home to make out a complete list of all the supplies she thought she might need. She was eager to take a walk into town. The schoolhouse and her home sat on the west edge of the community. A quick scan out the schoolhouse window had earlier confirmed that the only visible structures beyond were the small house and barn that she had spotted on her arrival.
It didnt take long for Marcail to reach the houses of town, but the shops were a bit further. She was flushed from the weight of her dress, as well as the warmth of the day, by the time she reached a storefront that said Vespermans General Store above the entrance. The building appeared to be half the size of Riggs Mercantile in Santa Rosa, but once inside there did not seem to be any lack.
Marcails eyes took in pins and measuring cups, fly traps and thread, composition books and soap flakes, eggbeaters and blotters, cookie cutters and bibs, fabric and shoes, checkerboards and muffin tins. She chose a basket near the door and began to shop. Not until she was near the candy counter did Marcail meet the proprietor. He was a smiling man with a sandy mustache, who introduced himself as Randy Vesperman.
Marcail liked him instantly. He answered all of her questions and informed her that his children, Erin and Patrick, would be in her classroom Monday morning. The friendly sparkle in his eyes confirmed that she had made her first friend. He encouraged her to take the basket in order to carry her purchases home.
Marcails next stop was the bank. The tutoring she had done in Visalia for the two children who, for different reasons, were unable to attend the schoolhouse, allowed her to come to Willits with something of a financial cushion. She spent a fair amount in gaining supplies for the next month, but with the exception of a few coins to get her by, she deposited the rest into a savings account.