by Lori Wick
Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Cover photos © Kateryna Govorushchenko, Chris Inch, and sprout22 / iStockphoto
Cover by Dugan Design Group, Bloomington, Minnesota
WHATEVER TOMORROW BRINGS
Copyright © 1992 by Lori Wick
Published by Harvest House Publishers
Eugene, Oregon 97402
www.harvesthousepublishers.com
ISBN 978-0-7369-1945-6 (pbk.)
ISBN 978-0-7369-3228-8 (eBook)
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Wick, Lori.
Whatever tomorrow brings / Lori Wick.
p. cm.—
ISBN: 0-89081-969-6
I. Title.
PS 3573.I237W48 1992
813'.54—dc20
92-38109
CIP
All rights reserved. No part of this electronic publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means–electronic, mechanical, digital, photocopy, recording, or any other–without the prior written permission of the publisher. The authorized purchaser has been granted a nontransferable, nonexclusive, and noncommercial right to access and view this electronic publication, and purchaser agrees to do so only in accordance with the terms of use under which it was purchased or transmitted. Participation in or encouragement of piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of author’s and publisher’s rights is strictly prohibited.
Dedication
This book is dedicated to
my parents, Harland and Pearl Hayes,
whose life together began in the
Hawaiian Islands. Thanks Dad and Mom
for the years of love and support,
in times of laughter and in times of tears.
I think the world of you both.
About the Author
LORI WICK is one of the most versatile Christian fiction writers in the market today. Her works include pioneer fiction, a series set in Victorian England, and contemporary novels. Lori’s books (more than 4 million copies in print) continue delight readers and top the Christian bestselling fiction list. Lori and her husband, Bob, live in Wisconsin with “the three coolest kids in the world.”
Other Books by Lori Wick
A Place Called Home Series
A Place Called Home
A Song for Silas
The Long Road Home
A Gathering of Memories
The Californians
Whatever Tomorrow Brings
As Time Goes By
Sean Donovan
Donovan’s Daughter
Kensington Chronicles
The Hawk and the Jewel
Wings of the Morning
Who Brings Forth the Wind
The Knight and the Dove
Rocky Mountain Memories
Where the Wild Rose Blooms
Whispers of Moonlight
To Know Her by Name
Promise Me Tomorrow
The Yellow Rose Trilogy
Every Little Thing About You
A Texas Sky
City Girl
English Garden Series
The Proposal
The Rescue
The Visitor
The Pursuit
The Tucker Mills Trilogy
Moonlight on the Millpond
Just Above a Whisper
Leave a Candle Burning
Other Fiction
Sophie’s Heart
Pretense
The Princess
Bamboo & Lace
Every Storm
White Chocolate Moments
The Taylor and Donovan Families—1871
The Taylor Family—
William Taylor
Wife—Mabel (May)
Children—Marshall Riggs (Rigg)
Jeffrey Taylor
Gilbert Taylor
Nathan Taylor
The Donovan Family—
Patrick Sean Donovan II (Patrick)
Wife—Theresa
Children—Kaitlin Donovan
Patrick Sean Donovan III (Sean)
Marcail Donovan
Maureen Donovan Lawton Kent—sister to
Patrick Sean Donovan II
Percy Lawton—Son to Maureen Kent
Contents
Dedication
About the Author
Other Books by Lori Wick
The Taylor and Donovan Families—1871
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
Books by Lori Wick
one
Hawaii—January 1871
Kaitlin Donovan smiled as the mid-morning sun hit her full in the face. She’d slipped from her shoes and stockings while hiking among the trees and now, as she moved toward that hot globe in the sky, her toes sank into the pure smooth sand of the beach. She walked until she was just short of the Pacific Ocean waves that lapped in easy rhythm at the shore.
The seemingly endless horizon stretched before her and the wonder of it, a wonder that never waned, made the breath catch in her chest. Kaitlin was content to stand and stare for a long minute before she walked a lazy path down the shore line.
Coming to the beach always brought her thoughts to God in a very special way. Today was no different. The vast expanse of water made her think of His overflowing love and the sand beneath her feet reminded her of a verse in Psalms that said God’s thoughts of her were as numerous as those tiny grains.
Some 50 yards up the beach Kaitlin stopped her tour of the shore line and looked once again out to sea. The rest of the world felt so far away and, in actuality, it was. But it was more than just the miles, of this she was positive, even though her remembrance of a home before this one was vague.
Her parents sometimes spoke of their life before the mission but until recently none of what they said had been of much interest to Kaitlin. She couldn’t imagine living anywher
e else and she believed herself to be content, but there was a restlessness rising within her that she’d never experienced before. It was both confusing and exciting, as if something special was about to happen. But she couldn’t think of what that something might be so there was never any relief from those restless feelings when they occurred. She prayed and tried to place her restless heart into God’s loving hands; and peace came, as she knew it would.
Much too soon the sun rose until nearly straight overhead and Kaitlin knew it was time to be home for lunch. She’d just laced her shoes when she caught sight of a couple walking along the shore. Kaitlin recognized them immediately as two of the village young people who attended her father’s services. Normally she would have called out and waved but seeing their hands linked together made her hesitate.
What would it be like to have someone hold your hand? It wasn’t the first time such a question had occurred to Kaitlin and, as always, she looked down at her own hands. But again, as in times past, she found no answer as she examined her long fingers.
When Kaitlin’s attention was once again drawn to the shore, she saw that the couple had stopped to face each other. Sure that she was about to be an unwilling witness to an embrace, Kaitlin turned quickly into the trees and walked toward home. As she went she prayed about the restlessness that again reared its head after seeing that couple.
The sun’s position told her she was late for lunch and she knew she’d have to apologize. But she also knew she would not be scolded—not today that is. Today was much too special. This was her twentieth birthday!
two
“I don’t think it’s fair.” The little girl spoke to her mother from a stool in the corner of the kitchen.
“It’s very fair, Marcail, and you know it. I warned you this morning at breakfast that if you were too far away to hear me calling, then you’re far enough away to be punished.”
“But I came as soon as Sean told me to.”
“I shouldn’t have had to send your brother at all. If you had stayed where you were supposed to, you would have heard me calling.”
“I’ll bet Katie’s been to the beach. Will she be punished for making lunch late?”
The attempt to divert Theresa Donovan’s attention to Kaitlin didn’t work and she sent her eight-year-old daughter a look that told her she had heard enough. Marcail lowered her eyes and sat quietly for her punishment, wondering as she did if someone would remember to call her for lunch.
“I’m sorry I’m late, Mother.” Kaitlin spoke as she entered the kitchen and bent to kiss her mother’s cheek.
“That’s all right dear, but be sure to thank Sean, he set the table for you.”
“What did Marc do?” Kaitlin wanted to know, as she looked at her sister in the corner.
“She can tell you if she wants.”
Kaitlin’s brows rose in question and her look was kind. Marcail cocked her head to one side and admitted in a small voice, “I was down at Loni’s.”
Kaitlin nodded. Loni was Marcail’s best friend but her hut was on the beach and Marcail was not allowed to go there alone. Loni’s mother was dead and her father was rarely home during the day. The lack of adult supervision had forced Theresa to decide that if Marcail and Loni wanted to play, it would be at the Donovan home.
Theresa had watched the exchange between her daughters and smiled as she went back to work. Theresa’s sweet spirit had given her very special relationships with her children. It wasn’t any wonder that Marcail responded well to Katie, who was so much like Theresa.
Not that they were alike physically. In fact Katie’s resemblance to her father was almost frightening. She was tall and full-figured with deep brown eyes that looked right to your soul with compassion and kindness. Her face, with its well-shaped nose and high cheekbones, would probably be considered beautiful were it not for her strong square jaw. It lent a look of stubbornness that her nature rarely exhibited.
Marcail’s tiny frame on the other hand, was the physical image of her mother. But there the resemblance ended. Marcail’s personality was very much like her father’s. Theresa didn’t have half the energy her husband possessed and never once would she have questioned someone in authority over her. Marcail had no such inhibitions and that, along with her questioning mind, was enough to wear Theresa to the bone.
Sean was already at the table when the food was carried in. At fourteen his appetite was voracious. He was already showing signs of having his father’s large build. An inch taller than Kaitlin, people who didn’t know them often mistook them for twins.
Theresa sat at the head of the table since she wasn’t expecting her husband until evening, and looked at her children as they began to eat. As always she felt a little amazed at how, with their black hair and tanned complexions, they resembled the Hawaiian people to whom they ministered on the island.
“Mother, aren’t you feeling well?” The question came from Kaitlin who had observed her mother’s untouched plate.
“I’m fine dear. I’m just growing sentimental in my old age.”
“You’re not too old, Mother,” Sean stated in his logical way.
“Thank you, Son.” His mother’s tone was dry.
“Will father be late tonight?” Marcail chimed in.
“The usual time, I think,” Theresa answered, with a little sigh that made her children stare at her.
“Mother,” Kaitlin’s brow furrowed slightly, “have you lost weight?” Theresa became instantly alert.
“Am I looking poorly, Kate?” she evaded the question neatly.
“Oh, no, Mother, you always look lovely.” Kaitlin smiled sincerely, even as she noticed her mother’s face was flushed. Kaitlin was rewarded with her mother’s beautiful smile.
three
The afternoon moved by quickly as friends came to visit and some baking was done. Kaitlin found herself wishing her father would come home a little early but it was not to be. By the time the supper hour neared, Kate was pacing like a caged animal.
“Katie, you’re walking a hole in that floor mat.”
“I know, Mother, but I thought Father would be here by now.”
“He’ll be here, Katie, he’ll be here,” Theresa said as she worked on her school lessons for next week. She and Kaitlin taught together in the mission school which was attended by both village and missionary children.
Kaitlin flopped onto a stuffed pallet on the floor and tried not to think about her birthday supper and the gifts that would be presented in the Donovan tradition. But it was no use. Her eyes went again and again to the table already set for the meal, especially the lack of gifts next to her place.
After a thorough scrutiny of the table, her eyes swung to Sean. He usually teased her senseless about knowing what her gift was. This year he hadn’t said a word.
Marcail was the next person to come under Kaitlin’s regard, but she was looking at a book and not at her anxious older sister. Had Katie cared to look at her mother she would have found herself being studied quite intently.
She’s a young 20, Theresa thought to herself. Not physically of course, but emotionally. Her world has been protected. Even when there was trouble in the mission, the children were never involved. She’s never known hate or rejection.
But she has the Lord, and there’s nothing more I would ask for her. Oh, Father in heaven, Theresa’s thoughts turned to prayer, please keep her close to you. I trust You to give only what she can take. Please help her believe that too. Her world will be changing so quickly over the next weeks, please help her to keep her hand in Yours.
“It’s Father!” Marcail bounced up a moment later, the first to hear his feet on the path. Patrick Sean Donovan II was greeted with the usual enthusiasm his family afforded him.
“Every man should come home to this kind of love.” It was his customary statement but hearing it often never erased the smiles from the faces of his wife and children.
“Are you hungry, Father?” Kaitlin asked anxiously.
�
�Not really. I think I’ll have my evening swim before we eat.” Kate, so excited over her birthday, missed the twinkle in his eye. Her face fell with disappointment, but she didn’t complain. Grumbling, and rightly so, was not allowed.
“Father is teasing you, Kate,” her mother spoke softly to her daughter and then louder to her mate, “For shame, Father. If you could have seen this girl pace around in anticipation all afternoon you would not torment her.”
“Anticipation of what?” Father asked with his eyes wide. Katie smiled, seeing that he was not done with her.
“I’m not sure myself,” Katie teased back. “Since I see no packages at my place.”
“Well, we’ll have to see what we can do about that. Happy Birthday, Kaitlin.” This time his smile held no teasing and the embrace he gave her warmed her to the depths of her soul. He released her to wash quickly for supper and in a few minutes they were seated around the table.
In the Donovan birthday fashion, gifts were opened before supper. Sean and Marcail were as excited as Kaitlin when father smiled at all of them and began to speak.
“We don’t have anything for you to open, Kaitlin.”
“What Father means, is that there was no way to wrap your gift. But we hope you’ll be pleased,” Theresa quickly added with a smile.
“Now, in the past,” Father went on, “the gift would have been strictly your own and the choice to share it would have been yours. But this year we are asking you to share your gift with all of us.” He stopped a moment, meeting the confused glances of his son and younger daughter before looking back at an equally confused birthday girl.
“I’ve booked passage on the Pacific Flyer. We all leave for San Francisco in a month!”
It took a full minute for this statement to sink in and then questions poured in a torrent from the three young Donovans.
“You mean California?”
“Will we see Aunt Maureen?”
“How big is the ship?”
“How long will we be gone?”
“How long does it take to get there?”
“Can I have a new dress?”
