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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- thirty
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- thirty-five
- thirty-six
- thirty-seven
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- forty
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- fifty
- fifty-one
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- 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
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- three
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- six
- seven
- eight
- nine
- ten
- eleven
- twelve
- thirteen
- fourteen
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- sixteen
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- eighteen
- nineteen
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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
- epilogue
- Sean Donovan
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- Visalia and Santa Rosa Families—1876
- one
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- forty
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- 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
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- seven
- eight
- nine
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- 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
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- fifty-five
- fifty-six
- fifty-seven
- fifty-eight
- fifty-nine
- sixty
- epilogue
- Books by Lori Wick
- About the Author
She wouldnt allow him into the schoolhouse. He ran home to his father, who stormed over to Mother in a fury, but she stood up to him. When he left he took not only his own son, but every child who was related to him by blood or marriage. Half the school was missing.
What did Mother do?
She taught the children who remained, Kaitlin stated serenely, obviously agreeing with her mothers choice of action. Within a weeks time, all but the one boy were back in school. It took another month before we saw him again, but there was never any trouble after that.
Marcail was silent as she digested this new picture of her mother. Their situations were not identical, partly because of the position of respect and admiration her parents always held in the villages, but Marcail did see similarities. She wasnt completely sure shed have handled it the same way.
True, most of the children had come back within a week, but what if they hadnt? How long would Mother have let the children go without their schooling before trying to find another solution? It was a question only Theresa Donovan could have answered, and she was no longer there to ask.
Im not saying that you should do the same thing, Marc. Katies voice cut into her thoughts. Please dont think that. You have to follow your heart. At least youre able to talk with Sydney and reason with him. Unless I miss my guess, you see him as a mission field.
She smiled at how easily Katie could read her. Marcail did see Sydney as a freshly plowed field, just waiting for planting, and she prayed every day that God would help her sow the seeds of truth. He was a little boy much in need of a personal relationship with Christ Jesus, and Marcails constant prayer was to be used of God to that end.
Donovan cried then, and Katie went to check on him. Once alone, Marcails mind wandered to her last day of school and the lovely lace handkerchief Sydney had given her. Most of the children had brought her something, and she was grateful for every gift. But none of the children had sported Sydneys look, a look that begged her to find him as special as his gift.
Well, he was special, and Marcail took time right then to pray for him as the new year approached. She also prayed that she would return, renewed in spirit and body for the remainder of the year. She didnt know what tomorrow would bring, but she believed it was in Gods hands.
fourteen
The weeks Marcail spent at home for Christmas were some of the best that year. She loved Willits and Visalia, but Santa Rosa had been home for such a long time that it was hard to think of it in any other way.