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
Mr. Flynn from the bank was the auctioneer, and the first basket belonged to Mrs. Warren. It was customary for the woman whose basket was on the table to step forward to the platform during the bidding. Mr. Warren knew his job and bought his wifes basket. It went for a good price and that seemed to get the ball rolling. Baskets and coins were exchanged amid a backdrop of laughter and great fun.
Marcails basket was one of the last to be auctioned. She moved toward the platform and took the hand offered her as she stepped up. Her eyes briefly met those of Dr. Montgomerys before he released her hand and she turned to face the audience.
There was a moment of silence that caused Marcail to become a shade nervous. What she couldnt know was how she appeared to the townspeople at that moment. She wore her dark blue dress with the white collar. Her black hair, braided and then wrapped into a fat bun, shone in the sunlight, and the young, vulnerable look she sported on her beautiful face was enough to stop the men of the town dead in their tracks.
Well now, Mr. Flynn said softly, as though shouting would spoil the moment. Most of you have met our new schoolmarm, Miss Donovan. Lets give her a grand welcome to our small town by bidding high on her basket.
The bidding started at two bits, and Marcail smiled when it swiftly went to 40. There seemed to be four young men biddingthe Warren boys and two men Marcail did not recognize. She felt her face flame when her basket went over a dollar, and the crowd began to cheer with each accelerated bid.
Mr. Flynn didnt yell sold until the bidding stopped at $2.75. Marcail had never heard of such a high bid for a lunch basket. She moved in a state of shock and once again felt the doctors hand before suddenly being grabbed by someone and nearly pulled from the platform.
Take it easy, Rowie. Marcail heard the smooth tones of Dr. Montgomerys voice. Youve won the basket fair and square; theres no need to pull her arm off.
Sorry. The young man apologized but did not relinquish his hold on Marcails arm.
Do you two know each other? Again the doctor spoke.
Marcail could only shake her head as she stared first at the doctor and then at the burly stranger who held her arm in a possessive grip.
Miss Donovan, this is Jethro Kilmer. Rowie, this is Miss Donovan.
How do you know her? Rowies jaw suddenly jutted forward, and if Marcail had recognized the signs of jealousy, she would have backed completely away from this squarely built man who had bought her lunch basket.
Shes my closest neighbor, Rowie. You know I live past the schoolhouse. The doctors voice was once again honey smooth, and the younger man calmed visibly.