Forever Mine: Callaghan Brothers, Book 9

by Abbie Zanders

  “I’ll never let you down again, son,” Jack vowed, kissing his baby’s forehead. “Never again.”

  Kathleen and Kane were released from the hospital on Christmas Eve. The next few days were a blur of visiting well-wishers and adjusting to having a newborn around the place. It was exhausting, but Jack had never been happier.

  Or busier. The bar was doing well. Curiosity had the locals coming in to check out the improvements, and the friendly, welcoming atmosphere kept them coming back. For the first time since he’d taken over, things were looking up financially. It was a good thing, too, because shortly after the holidays, the hospital and doctor bills started coming in. Even with insurance, the charges were enough to put any non-essential renovations back on hold for a while.

  There wasn’t much more they could cut back on. Now that they had a baby, they had to keep the heat on; turning the thermostat down and snuggling under the covers was no longer sufficient. Kathleen was already stretching their meager food budget as far as it could go, and now they had diapers and baby food to add to the list.

  Both Kathleen and the baby were doing well, but the doctor had been very adamant about her taking it easy. Double-shifts at the diner and long periods on her feet were strictly forbidden. She wasn’t happy about it, but Jack wasn’t giving her a choice. The doctor’s words had taken years off of his life the night Kane was born, but Jack waited until after Christmas to bring it up.

  Everyone had gone, and Kane had finally drifted off to sleep. They were snuggled under the covers, tired but happy.

  “Why did you cancel your prenatal appointments with Dr. Jamison?” he asked quietly.

  Tucked into his body, she stroked his arm, but said nothing.

  “Goddamn it, Kathleen. The doctor said you could have died because you’re blood pressure was out of control.”

  “I didn’t know there was a problem.”

  “That is exactly why you’re supposed to go to the doctor.”

  “Carl Jamison is an overbearing, condescending, egotistical jerk, not to mention he has a caveman mentality, which is the primary reason why I stopped going. The man should have retired twenty years ago.”

  “Your stubborn pride could have gotten you killed.”

  “He was being overly dramatic, Jack. He was angry because I dared to question him. I was not on death’s door, and I didn’t see the point in wasting money we didn’t have to be treated like a dimwit. Do you have any idea how much diapers cost? Or wipes? Or onesies?”

  “Christ, Kathleen. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you, don’t you know that?”

  “Yes,” she whispered quietly. “I do. It is exactly how I felt every minute of every day for seven years, wondering if I would ever see you again.”

  Her words sliced through him. “That was different.”

  “I know, but it wouldn’t have made it any easier if something happened to you, Jack.” She sighed heavily. “You don’t really think I’d knowingly put myself or the baby at risk, do you?”

  “No,” he admitted. He’d been worried that she hadn’t kept her appointments purely for financial reasons, but he hadn’t wanted to believe that. Kathleen was stubborn, but she was also practical and intelligent.

  “Next time, I’m going to see Erin’s doctor in Birch Falls. She’s a little more expensive, but Erin says she’s worth it.”

  “Next time?” he breathed, running a hand over her soft, still distended belly. Kathleen told him they had to wait a minimum of six weeks before they could make love again. It was going to be a very long six weeks.

  “Yes. I want a house full. Half a dozen, at least.”

  That sounded damn good to him.

  They were nearly through January when Jack came into the kitchen with the day’s mail to find Kathleen on the floor, surrounded by at least a dozen stacks of paper set in neat piles around her. The kitchen had become her workspace for bookkeeping. She said she preferred it because it kept her and Kane close to him, and he liked it because he could pop in every few minutes and remind himself what a lucky guy he was.

  Kane was in the baby swing Mrs. Fitzsimmons had given them, as quiet and intense as always. Jack leaned against the doorway, his mouth curling into a smile as he listened to her explain tax-deferred annuities and the importance of diversification for retirement planning.

  “Who are you talking to?”

  Kathleen turned and gave him a hundred-watt grin. “Kane.”

  “He’s six weeks old.”

  “Yes, he is. What’s your point?”

  Jack chuckled. Kathleen talked with their son as if he was fully capable of understanding everything she said. Sometimes, given the look in those clear blue eyes, he wondered about that himself.

  “Training him to be an accountant already?”

  She laughed. “Kane will be whatever he wants to be, and whatever he chooses, he’ll be the best. Won’t you, buddy?”

  The little guy sucked on his fist and looked at Kathleen with complete and total adulation. Jack knew just how he felt.

  Chapter Twenty

  September 2015

  Pine Ridge

  That same implacable, ice-blue gaze swung his way. Nearly forty years had passed, but his firstborn still had the ability to hold an entire conversation with nothing more than his eyes. At that moment, they were asking a hell of a lot of questions.

  “Don’t look at me like that, boy,” Jack grunted.

  After only a moment’s hesitation, Kane’s gaze obediently returned to the college football game playing out on the flat screen. The local state university was down by seven with five minutes left in the third quarter. Minutes passed; the only conversation was the sports announcers’ colorful commentary. Kane remained still, his only movement the lift of his arm as he drank from the longneck.

  Jack couldn’t help but admire his stoicism. Quiet. Patient. Immovable. And a damn fine son. Michael had told him that it had been Kane who had done chest compressions on him the day of his heart attack, forcing the blood through his veins when his heart couldn’t.

  “Thanks.”

  He didn’t have to say more than that for his son to know what he was talking about. Kane grunted an acknowledgement without turning around.

  “I’m not crazy, and I’m not suicidal.”

  A curt nod. “I know. I miss her, too.”

  Unbidden, tears welled up in Jack’s eyes. He blinked them away. Crying in front of his son was not something he would allow.

  He should have known that Kane saw beneath the surface and truly understood. A man of few words, Kane’s heart was the biggest part of him. Maybe that’s why he protected it so fiercely.

  “Daddy? Can I watch the game with you and Grandpa?” Kane’s little girl, Aislinn, peeked around the corner of the open door, her big eyes wide. At three years old, the child had the gentle demeanor of her mother, but the intensity of her father. Jack had seen the girl quietly approach her boy cousins in the midst of a particularly heated disagreement, smack them all soundly with her pop-up picture book, then walk away while they stared at her in disbelief.

  “Of course you can,” Jack answered for him.

  Kane opened his arms and she climbed up onto his lap, but her eyes remained fixed on Jack. “Mommy says I can’t hug you because you’re hurt, there,” Aislinn informed him, tilting her head thoughtfully and pointing at his chest.

  “Your Mom is right. But you can give your dad a hug, and I’ll feel it.”

  Kane’s gaze snapped to Jack’s over her shoulder. Her eyes went huge. “You can do that?”

  “Of course,” he told her. “We’re family, so we’re all connected, in here. Your dad is my son, so when you show him love, I feel it too.”

  “Like a chain reaction,” she whispered in childlike awe. She stood on Kane’s lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Can you feel it, Grandpa?”

  “Aye, but since it’s not a direct hug, you have to squeeze a little harder and really put your heart into it.”

/>   Aislinn closed her eyes and squeezed her father as hard as she could. Over her shoulder, Jack could see Kane’s eyes. They were still focused on the game, but for a moment, Kane’s icy blue eyes were shimmering. Then he blinked and the moisture was gone, but Jack knew he had remembered.

  March 1977

  Pine Ridge

  “But I want to hug Mom,” two-year old Kane protested as he peered over the hospital bed railing. Kathleen had just given birth to their second son, Jake, via Caesarean section. Kane pointed a pudgy finger toward the squirming infant in Jack’s arms. “He hurt her,” Kane accused. “Mom always hugs me when I’m hurt and makes me feel better.”

  “Jake didn’t hurt me,” Kathleen explained gently. “Having a baby is a painful process, but purely natural. It won’t last long.”

  “How long?” he asked.

  “Not long,” she smiled. “In the meantime, you can give your father a hug and I’ll feel it.”

  He cast a doubtful gaze her way. “How?”

  “We’re a family, so we’re all connected. When you show love to one of us, we all feel it.”

  Kane considered this. His eyes went to the baby and narrowed. “So... if I hug my new brother really, really hard, you’ll feel that too?”

  It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Kane wasn’t exactly thrilled with his new brother just yet, and it was understandable. For those two years, he’d been an only child, the sole recipient of their time and attention. Jack was just about to warn him against doing anything that might hurt the baby, but Kathleen, as usual, was one step ahead of him.

  “Yes, but it won’t feel good because you’re much bigger and stronger than he is.”

  “Oh.” Kane looked disappointed that his not-so-subtle plan was not going to work out.

  “But you know what you can do?”

  “What?”

  “After you give your father a hug, you can come up here and sit beside me so we can make a new story together.”

  Kathleen loved reading to Kane, but he quickly grew bored by hearing the same stories over and over, so sometimes, they made up their own.

  “What kind of story?”

  “Hmmm,” she hummed. “What do you think? What do you feel like today?”

  “A dragon,” Kane said immediately. “A big, strong, fire-breathing dragon.”

  “Excellent! I love dragons. Especially big black dragons with icy blue eyes. You start.”

  September 2015

  Pine Ridge

  Kathleen had a special gift for reaching into the hearts of those she loved. Kane had been especially devastated by her death. He’d been sixteen at the time, on the cusp of full manhood. Jack’s serious son became even more so, retreating into himself, internalizing everything.

  Kane earned the nickname “Iceman” for his seemingly cold, calculating persona, but far beneath that frozen exterior lay the boy he had once been. After Kathleen died, no one had been able to draw him out, and Jack feared a part of him had been broken forever. Thankfully, Rebecca had come along and proven him wrong. The woman had the gentle nature and inner fortitude of a saint. Nothing less could have coaxed Kane’s heart to open.

  As if summoned by his thoughts, Rebecca appeared in the doorway. Jack put his finger to his lips and glanced meaningfully over to where Aislinn was sound asleep, tucked securely in the safety of her father’s arms.

  Rebecca followed his gaze, meeting Kane’s. The connection between them was almost tangible; such was the way of true croies. Her features softened, her eyes reflecting the love she had for her husband and child so much that even he felt it.

  “How are you doing, Dad?” Rebecca asked softly, leaning down to gift him with a kiss on the cheek.

  “Good,” Jack answered. It wasn’t a total lie. Physically, he was getting stronger every day. Her golden brown eyes glimmered knowingly, but angel that she was, accepted it for what it was. A partial truth.

  “Jake’s here. He brought Riley.”

  Jack nodded. He was expecting them. Taryn had stopped by the day before and filled him in. Riley hadn’t been by to see him since the day of his heart attack. They hadn’t pressed the issue. Riley was a spitfire, but, like her mother, felt things very deeply. The girl needed time to process what had happened in her own way. After nearly a week of moping silence, it became clear that there was more to it than that. Riley finally admitted to believing she had somehow caused (or at least contributed to) his attack. Of course Jake and Taryn had tried to talk to her, but it wasn’t until Michael sat her down and explained things from a medical point of view that she’d really started listening.

  Kane rose, his big hand spanning the back of his sleeping daughter and greeted his brother with a nod.

  “Jake.”

  “Kane.”

  Of all of his sons, Kane and Jake were probably the most alike. Both were born leaders, and were extremely competitive. Growing up, the two of them butted heads more often than not, which had led to some full-blown brawls over the years.

  Neither would admit it, but they were also each other’s biggest, fiercest supporter as well.

  Jack didn’t bother thanking Kane for spending the afternoon with him, even though he had enjoyed the quiet company. Kane already knew, and the words were unnecessary.

  Kane and Rebecca took their leave, and Jake came farther into the room. Riley held her daddy’s hand, her gaze fixed somewhere around her feet. A curtain of long, wavy black hair concealed her pixie-like features and bright violet eyes.

  “Hey Dad,” Jake greeted.

  “Jake. Who have you got there with you? A muppet?”

  “It’s me, Grandpa,” Riley mumbled.

  “Me,” Jack echoed thoughtfully. “Hmmm...”

  She lifted her gaze, revealing her face. “Me.”

  “Ah, Riley. There you are, lass.”

  Jack swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. He’d become adept at moving carefully to minimize the pulling on the staples holding his chest together. It was imperative that the child see that he was doing just fine.

  Her eyes went wide. She studied his face, searching. “You don’t look sick.”

  “Jake. Leave us for a while, will you?”

  Jake nodded. “I’ll be in the living room with Mick and the others.”

  Riley continued to stand just inside the door. She bit her lip and looked back at her father, as if afraid to be alone with him. It damn near broke his heart.

  “Come over here, lass,” Jack prompted, patting the recliner.

  Riley made her way over to him, continuing to chew her lower lip in a classic feminine tell of uncertainty.

  “Go on then. Sit.”

  She settled herself in the comfortable chair, and he handed her the remote control. She looked up at him with wide eyes. “Try it.”

  Jack watched in amusement as Riley tried the different buttons, unable to completely hide her delight at the warmth and vibrating massage. When she looked back at Jack, though, her smile faded and she grew serious again.

  “You scared me, Grandpa.”

  Leave it to his granddaughter to cut right to the heart of it.

  “Aye,” he admitted. “But not on purpose.”

  “I know. Uncle Michael explained it to me.”

  “So you understand that nothing you did that day is to blame for what happened.”

  Riley looked down at her hands. When she spoke, she did so in a whisper. “I made you walk down to the pumpkin patch. Walking is exercise. Exercise makes your heart work harder. And you had a heart attack because your heart couldn’t handle the extra work.”

  Jack was momentarily stunned by the seven year old’s logic.

  “Aye, and thank God it happened when it did.”

  Riley lifted her head and stared at him.

  “Do you think it was an accident that you were there; my clever, brave, lass to fetch me the help I needed? Or that your uncles were all right there, able to take care of me and get me to the hospital so quickly?” Jac
k shook his head. “No, lass. That was no accident. Everything happens for a reason. And the truth is, I am here now because you were with me then.”

  Her lips fell open and her eyes, now shimmering with moisture, grew wide. He could practically see the wheels turning. “You’re right.”

  “Of course I’m right,” he grunted. “So how about giving your old Grandpa a hug?”

  She leaned forward, then snapped back and shook her head violently. “Mom and Dad said I’m not supposed to hug you yet.”

  “See that? Taking care of me again. All right then. How about a high-five?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Nobody high-fives anymore, Grandpa. They fist-bump.”

  “Fist-bump, it is. Now, are you going to watch the rest of the game with me?”

  “Can I sit in this chair and hold your hand?”

  “Aye.”

  “Then yes.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Jack paused and looked out over the acres and acres of farmland, a natural quilt of browns, tans, and greens. The trees were already beginning to change into their autumnal palette; they, along with the depression-era, stacked stone walls formed the sashing and the seams.

  Down below and to the right lay the fifty-odd acres open to the public. From this position, Jack could see yet another school bus winding its way up the mountain, filled with excited school children. They would spend the day playing in the corn mazes and on the hay bale obstacle courses, enjoying the fun and educational hayride tours, and finishing their time here by picking their own apples and pumpkins to take home.

  For years after her grandparents died, Maggie continued the family tradition of opening her farm to the locals, as well as providing home-grown herbal and homeopathic remedies to those in need. Now that the local restaurant, Celtic Goddess, had contracted with Maggie for exclusive rights to grow the organic produce for their offerings, she had the resources to hire a seasonal staff to keep the family fun going. Visiting Maggie’s farm had become a popular community staple each fall, and each year grew more so.