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
With a move born of desperation, Marcail lifted the cage. She carried it to the edge of the woods and opened the funny little door.
The moment the chicken was free, she began to peck around searching for food. Marcail, not wanting to think about how she would explain to Alex, turned and walked swiftly toward the house.
fifty-seven
Alex stabled Kelsey and immediately noticed the chicken was missing from the barn. He licked his lips in anticipation of what was sure to be a great supper. He knew from weeks of experience that Marcail was a good cook, and he entered the house, a smile on his face, ready for whatever she had prepared.
Unfortunately, one look at Marcails stern profile told him something was wrong. Since shed been back from Santa Rosa, he had seen the Marcail that Kaitlin had spoken ofthe Marcail whose face showed every emotion. He wasnt exactly certain, but it appeared to him that her tight-lipped silence was from anger. To Alexs mind this made no sense; theyd parted on very good terms at lunch. Alex shrugged mentally and broke the silence with what was sure to be the perfect comment.
I thought I would smell chicken when I came in the door tonight.
His voice was friendly, and he was totally unprepared for his wifes reaction. Marcail spun to face him so quickly that her hair flared around her back and shoulders.
I cannot, she stated furiously, her eyes flashing with ominous fire, look something in the eye and then have it on my plate. The next time a patient pays you with an animal, it had better be dead!
Marcail turned away to finish cutting out the biscuits. Her hand was moving the cutter so hard against the breadboard it was leaving marks. Alex was relieved shed turned her back because his whole body was shaking with silent laughter. He was not quite under control when Marcail turned to look at him and her eyes narrowed with suspicion.
Ten minutes later Marcail finished putting the bowls and plates on the table with unusual force, and they sat down to eat. Alex kept his prayer of thanks very brief. The meal was half over before he decided that Marcail was calm.
What did you do with the chicken? Alex asked conversationally.
I let it go at the edge of the woods, she told him softly. I just couldnt bring myself to kill it.
She wont survive, you know, Alex told her, compassion filling his voice. Some fox or another predator will make a meal of her.
I hadnt thought of that.
Id have been glad to kill it if youd asked me.
I wouldnt have been able to pluck it, let alone eat it, once Id seen it alive.
Alex suddenly began to chuckle again.
Dont you laugh at me, Alex Montgomery! Marcail tried to sound stern, but failed.