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
I just might throw you in the Pacific, Alex said, knowing hed never do such a thing.
Youd have to catch me first, Marcail said with sweet confidence, and the entire family erupted with laughter and catcalls.
When the noise died down, Alexs look was nothing short of condescending. I dont think that would be a problem.
The narrowing of Marcails eyes told him in an instant that hed said the wrong thing, but his brain told him to move a moment too late. Before he could take a breath, Marcail had thrown the entire contents of the cup in his face. Staying on the blanket just long enough to enjoy the stunned look on his face, Marcail jumped to her feet and ran down the beach.
The shouts from the family told Marcail that Alex was after her, but she didnt look back as she made fast tracks away from her wet husband.
Go, Marcail, go, came a womans voice.
Shes not very submissive, Alex. Youd better do something about that when you catch her. This time it was Skip.
Use every trick in the book, Marcail. Dont hesitate to bite him, Susan shouted as Marcail ran on.
The sounds of the family faded, and Marcails feet pounded the sand. Alex, who was just beginning to wind, wondered why it wasnt a requirement that a man know all about his wife before he married her. Why were the vows said before he knew that she could sing in a foreign language or run like the wind down a sandy beach?
Marcail spotted a huge fallen tree and darted around the far side of it. She paused, ready to go again if Alex was still bent on pursuit, but as she hoped, he came up on the other side and stood, breathing hard and staring at her. A bit winded herself, Marcail knew she had more in her if needed.
Where, Alex said on a gasp, did you learn to run like that?
Im not approaching the advanced age of 31, like a certain elderly husband I know.
Alexs eyes narrowed. Youre already in hot water, and now youre pushing your luck. Alex dropped to the sand and leaned his back against the huge log. Marcail stared for a moment at the back of his head before deciding the danger was over. She rounded the log and dropped to her knees beside her husband.
Her legs had no more hit the sand when Alex hauled her across his lap. Marcails eyes showed her shock, but Alex only smiled triumphantly. He bent his head and wiped his wet cheek against her own.
Oh, stop it, Alex! Marcail laughingly wailed. Youre getting me all wet.
Thats the point. He spoke with amusement as he covered both sides of her face with the moisture from his own.