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
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- 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
On these simple words he stepped behind her. Within seconds they were headed down the hall. At the top of the stairs, Marcail hesitated.
I didnt brush my hair or put on my shoes.
Your hair is lovely, Alex said as he took her hand. And since we dont stand on ceremony around here, you dont need your shoes unless your feet are cold.
Marcail wondered at the lovely feeling that spiraled through her over his words, and the way his long fingers curled around her own.
Supper was another uproarious affair, and even though Marcails head ached, she loved it. It reminded her of meals with Riggs family. After the dishes had been cleared, the group converged on Helens room for a game of Sticks.
Marcail was unfamiliar with the game, but she learned that it was something of a family tradition with the Montgomerys. She also learned the reason it was new to her: Helen had invented Sticks herself. The family had been playing it for years.
The game consisted of bodies draped all around the room, the more the better, a huge stack of cards with questions or commands printed on each, and dozens of small wooden sticks. Marcail was rather lost at first, until someone explained that the person with the most sticks at the end of the game was the winner.
Helen was in her element as she handled the cards. The questions ranged from easy for the children to outrageous for the adults. The cards that resulted in the most fun were those with commands. The players laughed until they cried when Skip had to stand on his head and say the pledge of allegiance, but everyone had to forfeit a stick when he did so without laughing. At times it seemed that Helen made up the rules as she went along, but she was always fair.
As the evening neared an end, Skip, Alex, and Hannah had the majority of the sticks. Marcail, whose head still ached a bit, was beginning to tire when Helen called her name as the next turn.
All right, Marcail, Helen said with a determined look in her eye, sing us a song in a foreign language.
Oh, Mother, and Oh, Grandma, were the sounds around the room. Marcail looked surprised at everyones reaction until Susan spoke.
Thats mothers favorite question, Marcail. Shes been asking it for years, and no one has ever done it.
Marcails face was neither mischievous nor triumphant. The look she gave her mother-in-law was tender as she began to sing a Hawaiian lullaby shed learned in the Islands. Her voice was high and pure and sweet, and the room was utterly still even after she was finished.
The room remained silent as Skip, Alex, and Hannah stood and gave all their sticks to the newest member of the family. Marcails eyes filled with tears over such a lovely display of love and acceptance.