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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- 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
Fredas features, already drawn and tired, seemed more so on the sound of that voice. Alex patted her shoulder when she would have answered her mother and then took himself off to the bedroom. Marcail stayed in the kitchen and had coffee with the younger Brent. They chatted easily, but Marcail prayed silently for Alex, since she was certain he was having to deal with an absolute shrew.
I hope youve come to cure me were Mrs. Brents words the moment Alex stepped through the door. They both knew very well that she would never get out of her bed, and Alex had no trouble with the fact that she took her bad humor out on him.
Well now, he spoke easily, well see what we can do for you today.
Alex was bent over Mrs. Brent, listening to the sounds in her chest, when she noticed Marcails and Fredas voices. He had just pulled the stethoscope from his ears when she bellowed with outrage and curiosity, Who is Freda talking with?
My wife, Alex answered absently, his fingers searching for the pulse in her bony wrist.
Well, bring her in here. I want to have a look at her. It was an order that Alex ignored. He found her condition just as usual, and regretted the scene he knew would follow when he told her she didnt need a change in medication. Mrs. Brent always took a change in medication as a good sign, but today she was too preoccupied with Marcails presence to question the doctors judgment.
Are you going to bring her in here, or do I have to get out of this bed?
Alex was putting his things away when she issued this final ultimatum. Still very much in control of the situation, he stepped to the door and called Marcails name.
Mrs. Brent craned her neck to see around Alexs broad back as Marcail entered the room. Her eyes narrowed when Alex walked her to the side of the bed, her hand held within his own.
Mrs. Brent, Id like to present my wife. Marcail, this is Mrs. Brent.
Hello, Mrs. Brent, Marcail said with a smile, only to have the old woman scowl at her.
That brown dress is terrible on you, she finally said. Do you take good care of this man?
The change in subjects stunned Marcail for just a moment. Not that it really mattered. Mrs. Brent went on to talk of several things, giving Marcail no chance to speak. Neither she nor Alex said a word, and when Mrs. Brent had had her say, she informed the quiet young couple that they could leave now, since she was tired.
It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Brent, Marcail told her and received a grunt in return.
Ill see you in a few weeks, Alex added and moved to follow Marcail to the door.
Doc.