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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- five
- six
- seven
- eight
- nine
- ten
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- twenty-seven
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- 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
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- sixteen
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- 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
- epilogue
- Sean Donovan
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- Visalia and Santa Rosa Families—1876
- one
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- five
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- fourteen
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- sixteen
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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
- 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
Im sorry about the dress, Alex, she said softly. I wanted to wash all my dresses and just acted without thought. I should have checked with you before wearing one of your wifes dresses. Please forgive me. I wont do it again. Marcail could tell she was babbling, but he seemed so pensive.
I never thought of Linette as being big, Alex finally said, but that dress swallows you.
Ill change just as soon as something is dry.
Alex shook his head and smiled. Theres no need. You should wear them if you can. As you said, they are my wifes dresses, and youre my wife.
Marcail nodded, but because he was still watching her, she was not convinced.
I wouldnt have believed that you were hiding so much hair in that bun you wear. Alexs eyes took in the way her hair, so black it was almost blue, hung to her hips, each strand falling in a glossy wave and curling of its own accord at the end.
Ill put it up, Marcail spoke, unable to keep the disappointment from her voice. It was the first time in days she didnt have a headache. She turned to find her box of pins.
Dont pin it up on my account. I like your hair down.
Marcail turned back, afraid to believe what shed heard. You dont mind my wearing it down?
Not at all. Alexs voice was matter-of-fact.
And you dont think I look 16?
Alex smiled. Sixteen, Alex let out a slow whistle. That would make you roughly half my age, and that scares me a little. Right at the moment, you look like a girl playing house in her mothers dress, but no, Marcail, you do not look 16 with your hair down.
Marcails relief was so obvious that Alex smiled again and wondered for an instant why she wore it up if she didnt want to. When she continued to smile, he wondered if she would still be smiling if she knew how much he wanted to hold her, letting her fill his arms the way she already filled his heart, or if she knew how badly he wanted a real marriage, and not just a marriage of convenience to salvage her testimony before the townspeople.
As he constantly did these days, Alex prayed for patience. He believed that if he could just give this woman time, court her, and tenderly care for her, they would someday have a marriage in every sense of the word.
That Marcail was unaware of his thoughts was obvious in the way she went about her business in the kitchen as though theyd been married for years. Alex silently congratulated himself for keeping the emotions he felt from showing on his face.
How did things go at your office today? Marcail asked as she poured Alex a second cup of coffee.