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-six
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- fifty
- fifty-one
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- 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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- six
- seven
- eight
- nine
- ten
- eleven
- twelve
- thirteen
- fourteen
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- thirty-one
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- 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
- 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
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- forty-four
- forty-five
- forty-six
- forty-seven
- forty-eight
- forty-nine
- fifty
- fifty-one
- fifty-two
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- fifty-four
- fifty-five
- fifty-six
- fifty-seven
- fifty-eight
- fifty-nine
- sixty
- epilogue
- Books by Lori Wick
- About the Author
Alex tied Kelsey at the door and walked his wife inside. Marcail put her basket on the table and was removing her coat when she noticed that the furniture had been rearranged.
The kitchen table was closer to the bedroom door than it had been, and Marcail could not see the living room sofa from where she stood. She stepped into the living room and her eyes widened with surprise.
The small sofa was on another wall, giving Marcails bed almost complete privacy from the kitchen area. One of the wardrobes had been moved from the bedroom along with a small chest of drawers. Alex had done a nice job of fitting in the added pieces to go with the tables, chair, and bookshelf. In short, he had given Marcail a very private area for sleeping and dressing.
I put your blanket and pillow in the bottom of the wardrobe. That little dresser was in the barn, so you might want to wipe it out.
Marcail turned to the man who spoke softly behind her. Thank you, Alex.
Youre welcome. I have to get back to the office, but Ill be home around 5:00.
He left then, and Marcail stood for a long time at the window watching him go. He was nothing whatever like she had imagined. What kind of man stepped in to rescue a woman in need and then rearranged his home to suit her when she was little more than a stranger?
No answers came to mind. Marcail knew that she could stand there all day and speculate, but that would accomplish nothing. With a determined stride she attacked her basket of groceries, putting everything away. She started supper, and then moved to the living room to settle her clothing in the dresser drawers and wardrobe.
The now-familiar headache was beginning, and Marcail had to stop herself from ripping the pins from her hair. Both she and Alex were swiftly losing all privacy, and Marcail couldnt dispel the feeling that she would be further embarrassed in front of Alex if he came home and her hair was down.
No one in Willits, save Allie and her mother, had ever seen her hair down, but Marcail knew that at least part of the reason for her maintaining the severe style lay elsewhere. She looked very young without the piles of thick hair atop her head.
But headache or no, there was work to be done, and Marcail set about her tasks. By the time Alex came in the door, supper was ready and Marcails personal effects were all put away. They ate in companionable silence. After Alex helped with the dishes, he asked Marcail to come back to the table so they could discuss their schedules.
Do you feel all right? were the first words from Alex.
Yes, Im fine, Marcail answered him without thought.