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
Oh, yes, I did. Marcails voice told of her surprise that he had noticed. She didnt realize he noticed most everything about her. She touched the lapel on the long, single-breasted navy coat.
Thank you for chopping the wood, Marcail blurted suddenly, just remembering she hadnt done so.
Youre welcome.
The silence between them deepened, and after a few moments Alex rescued Marcail by going back to work. Once in the house, Marcail listened to the sounds from outside. Her mind ran in numerous veins, and unfortunately she stood daydreaming even after the chopping stopped and all grew quiet.
It was then that Marcail noticed that Alex had lit a fire in her stove. Her heavy coat must have kept her from noticing the heat when she first walked in. Marcail moved swiftly to her front door, opened it, and looked out. But she was too late. Alex, astride his horse, was almost back to his own house and much too far to hear her voice.
Nearly a week had passed since Marcail had returned to work, and it was now Saturday, her day to bake and shop in town. She was just about to walk into the dry goods store when Mrs. Duckworths stringent tone sounded in the cold January air. The sound of her voice could be heard from down the block.
Dont tell me I dont have the right! I own this building, and if I request to see your books, then I expect to see them!
Marcail did not hear the hotel owners reply, but she did spot Sydney sitting in his grandmothers carriage out front. She approached with a smile.
Hi, Sydney.
Hello, Miss Donovan. Sydney smiled with genuine pleasure at the sight of her. It was obviously one of his good days.
Marcail nearly shook her head in wonder. Shed never met a more cordial child when he determined to be so. His manners were perfection itself. Get on his wrong side on a bad day, however, and look out! Anything could happen.
Its getting colder all the time, isnt it?
Yes, it is, the boy replied. My grandmother says that because last year was so mild well have a heavy snowfall this year.
Well, she is the person to listen to, since shes lived here so many years.
As if sensing she was the topic of discussion, Mrs. Duckworth suddenly appeared at Marcails side.
How do you do, Mrs. Duckworth?
I am well, Miss Donovan. I understand you went to Santa Rosa for Christmas. This last statement sounded like a rebuke.
Yes, I did. It was nice to see my family. Marcails voice was friendly, but she struggled with the feeling that shed done something wrong by not checking with Mrs. Duckworth before leaving. The feeling increased when she noticed Mrs. Duckworths scrutiny of her new coat and boots.