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
Marcail was not able to keep track of their progress as they moved though the house. She knew when Alex sat her on the edge of the bed, and that he was unbuttoning the back of her dress, but when her nightgown dropped over her head, she was taken totally off guard. Even so, that she was too tired to question or fight him.
She watched with eyes that hurt as he hung her dress on the back of the door. His hands were gentle as she was tucked beneath the covers, and the pillow felt as soft as a cloud to her throbbing head. She was going to thank him for something, but at the moment the thought eluded her as sleep swiftly crowded in.
thirty-six
Marcail woke to the calling of her name. Her foggy brain told her someone was being very insistent. Since she didnt like the cold washcloth that was rudely calling her from slumber, she forced her eyes open and focused on Alex, who seemed to be engrossed with her face.
I thought you were going to let me sleep for a few minutes? Her voice was husky.
I did. Alexs voice sounded hushed in the still room. Youve been asleep for nearly two hours.
Marcail was silent as she digested this. She heard sounds from downstairs, and at the same time her nose detected a wonderful smell.
How does your head feel?
Im hungry, Marcail told him.
Well, thats a good sign. Ill bring you something.
No. Ill come down.
Alex nodded after a brief hesitation. All right. He rose from his place on the edge of the bed and retrieved Marcails dress from the hook.
Marcail lay still as he placed it over the footboard. Ill wait for you in the hall. Call if you need me.
Marcail thought it was a little silly of him to stand in the hall and wait for her, but that was before she threw the covers back and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The room took a moment to right itself, and Marcail wondered if her injury was more serious than she realized.
Then a sudden thought occurred to her, and she knew in an instant it was correct. Alex was far more worried than he was letting her know. For her sake he was downplaying his reaction. The idea moved her to the brink of tears. She had not expected anyone outside her own family to be so understanding about her fears, and especially not a doctor, but Alex was proving otherwise.
Marcail? Alex called from beyond the door, making her realize how much time she was taking.
Ill be right out.
The door did open soon after that, but Marcail didnt come into the hall. She looked a bit hesitant, and then did something she never expected to do.
Alex, will you button me?
To his credit, Alex responded as though the question was as everyday as breathing.
Oh, sure.