The Callahans: The Complete Series

by Gordon Ryan

  Katrina’s eyes opened wider and she nodded appreciatively at Seby. “And why Utah Trust Bank, Seby?” she asked.

  “Well, thank you very much, Mrs. Callahan,” Tom said. “We are, in my humble opinion, the only choice in the Salt Lake Valley, for the smart businessman,” he boasted, winking at Seby.

  “With a very humble management, Seby, present company excepted,” Katrina said.

  “Well, I have some ideas that I think Mr. Stromberg will like, and over the next several days, I will offer to show him around the valley and discuss some prospects,” Tom added.

  “Not before he shows me how to ride Mexican style,” Teresa added. “Dad and I are going riding in the morning, Seby, would you like to come?”

  “That’s a rather presumptuous invitation, young woman,” Tom said.

  “De nada, Señor. It would be my pleasure to join you on your ride. And I would be most pleased to show you how Mexican women ride.”

  “Seby’s mother was an expert horsewoman, Tess,” Katrina added.

  “Seby,” Tom said, leaning toward him and pointing with a bread roll, “have you ever broken a wild filly?” he laughed.

  “Si,” Seby answered hesitantly.

  “Well, when I tried to teach Tess to drive the car, it was worse than that. I hate to imagine how she might react to a new riding instructor. What do you think, Katie?” Tom asked, grinning.

  Katrina had watched the interplay between Tom, Teresa, and Seby and was instinctively aware of Teresa’s interest in the handsome young man. Katrina could see, however, that Seby was unaware, or indifferent, to Tess, at least at present, perhaps seeing her as yet a child.

  “I think she needed a different driving instructor as well as a different riding instructor. You didn’t last long teaching me to drive either, Thomas Callahan,” she teased. “Thank goodness for Henry’s patience.”

  “Aye, he earned his pay that week, that’s for sure,” Tom rejoined.

  “So, Seby, tell me, do you still have family in Mexico?” Katrina asked.

  Seby was silent for a moment, reaching for another piece of bread and tearing it in half before answering. “No, Señora. You know, of course, that my parents died. My grandfather and uncle are also dead now.”

  “I am so sorry, Seby. I greatly admired your grandfather.”

  “How many brothers and sisters, Seby,” Teresa asked.

  “I am an only child, Señorita.”

  “How about that, Mom? He’s breaking all the traditions,” Teresa laughed. “I thought that only the Catholics could surpass the Mormons for large families. He’s got fair skin and is an only child. That must be a Mexican record,” Tess added glibly.

  “Teresa Callahan,” Katrina scolded.

  “Aw, Mom. I didn’t mean any disrespect. You didn’t take offense, did you, Seby?” she asked, taking a fork full of potatoes into her mouth.

  Before Seby could respond, Katrina spoke again. “That’s not the point, Teresa, and you well know it. We’ve taught you that it’s impolite to ask personal questions beyond what someone is willing to reveal. Maybe your father and I could give Seby a few hints about what to ask you,” Katrina teased.

  “Mommmm, I get the point. Okay?” she said, her eyebrows raised and her voice sharp.

  “Good. Now where were we?” Katrina said.

  Seby smiled at Katrina and looked back at Teresa who was grinning.

  Tom stepped into the fray. “Seby, the gentle Mexican civility that I have known, limited as it was, leads me to believe that you may find a weekend in an Irish-Norwegian home a bit unsettling. May I offer my apologies in advance? Especially for any difficulty your riding student may present tomorrow.”

  “What is this ...” Teresa asked, “ ... get Tess day?”

  “Not at all, my adorable ‘university woman,’” Tom teased. “You’ve done well enough on that score all by yourself.”

  Teresa looked at the broad smile that covered Seby’s face as her parents continued to impale her with wit.

  “Perhaps it’s just as well you don’t have to put up with this from your parents, Seby,” Teresa blurted out.

  “Teresa,” Katrina warned sharply. “Thomas, I think this has gone just about far enough. Please, let’s bring some decorum back to the dinner table. We do have a guest in our home.”

  Teresa looked sheepishly across the table at Seby.

  “I’m truly sorry, Seby. I forgot about your parents. Really, please ...”

  “Señorita,” he said, his face calm and friendly. “I took no offense, truly. But I will say, that you are quite fortunate to have two parents who so obviously care about you.”

  “Well, I can see whose side you’re on, Mr. Stromberg,” she laughed. “So, to change the subject and save myself further humiliation, how about some music after dinner. I brought home some new Grammies.”

  “Wonderful idea, Tess,” Katrina said. “Do you sing, Seby?”

  “I believe I ride better, Señora,” he laughed.

  “Good,” Teresa interjected. “Maybe there is something I can do successfully tonight.”

  Teresa’s songs and the duet by Katrina and Teresa filled the evening as the four people sat in the parlor, enjoying a blazing fire, which was kept stoked by Tom. Again, Tom took note of Seby’s gracious behavior and the ease with which he blended into the setting. Immigrant miners who had occasionally passed through their home had often given the appearance of being ill at ease, although Katrina had always tried to make them as comfortable as possible. Seby’s upbringing clearly had taught him all the social graces, and he was a pleasant guest.

  After a time, Katrina interrupted Tom’s thoughts as she stood and moved toward the door. “Thomas, could you help me with a small chore in the kitchen?” she asked.

  “Certainly,” Tom said, rising and passing by Teresa, tousling her hair. “Tess, we’ve covered riding and singing, but nothing about dancing,” Tom said as he walked toward the door. “I’ve a feeling Seby might have developed other social graces we’ve not discovered yet.”

  “Don’t pay them any mind, Seby,” Katrina offered. “We’ll be right back with a bit of dessert. Please excuse us for a moment.”

  Seby rose as Katrina left the room, and she hesitated for just a moment, briefly startled by his courtesy. In the kitchen, Tom wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. “Couldn’t wait to be alone with me, eh, Katie, m’ darlin?’” he said quietly.

  “Thomas, this is an unbelievable night. I’m scared. When we get around to telling Tess how I know Seby ...”

  “Teresa will be surprised, no doubt. But she’s not naïve about life, Katie. She’ll be all right.”

  “I hope so, Thomas. But I’m still scared.”

  “Tess likes him, that’s certain,” Tom added, “but I’m not sure I’d like to promote that idea. She’s far too young.”

  Katrina laughed out loud. “Two months older than the young woman you pursued on board the Antioch.”

  Tom grinned. “That was different,” he said.

  “Right,” she said. “Do you think our parents would have agreed?” she teased.

  “Certainly not your father,” he said, “but Tess has never really expressed interest in a particular boy, Katie. Have you watched her? I think she’s keen on Seby.”

  “Good grief, Thomas, they’ve only just met. I don’t think they’re quite ready to marry,” she laughed.

  “Aye. But I’ve seen that look before,” he smiled at Katrina, hugging her again. “And, like the fool I am, I’ve already introduced them,” Tom added.

  “That will sort itself out, Thomas, and he’s going away again on Monday, you said.”

  “I don’t know exactly how long he’ll be around. I do have some business prospects for him,” Tom replied, “but I want to be certain he doesn’t get too familiar.”

  “Thomas, you just stop it. We’ve raised a proper daughter and from what I can see, he is a most proper young man.”

  “And you were a most proper youn
g lady, Miss Hansen,” Tom, said, continuing to taunt.

  Katrina smiled at him and reached up in the cupboard for saucers. “What prospects are you talking about? For Seby, I mean.”

  “Katie, he came into the bank today, and presented an account number. When I reviewed the account, it had four deposits over the past two years, totaling just over two million dollars.”

  “Goodness. Then he’s a very wealthy young man.”

  “It would seem so. His grandfather saw the revolution coming his way and tried to prepare another life for them outside the country, but then the old man had a heart attack.”

  “How dreadful. Thomas, I don’t have the slightest idea of how to present this to Teresa. And what about PJ and Tommy?”

  “We’ll deal with them later, Katie. But for now, just try to summarize what happened in Mexico. I’ll support you.”

  “I’m shaking,” she said, leaning against the kitchen counter and cupping her face in her hands.

  Tom stood behind Katrina at the counter, and wrapped his arms around her. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, Katie.”

  “I know, but ...”

  “Let’s just go back in there and see how it goes. I’ll be there to help.”

  Katrina finished cutting the cake, prepared a tray, and handed it to Tom. She lead the way back to the parlor. Distributing the cake, Katrina resumed her seat beside the fireplace. All four were silent for a few moments as the cake consumed their attention. Katrina broke the silence.

  “Seby, how long did you say you’ve been in the United States?”

  “Not quite one year, Señora. I was attending the university in Mexico City. Don Sebastian suggested I come to the States and prepare a place for us. I came first to Arizona, but then he wrote and explained about the bank account he had established in Utah.”

  “Mom, you were going to tell me how you know Seby,” Teresa said.

  Katrina took a deep breath then said, lightly, “I knew Seby as an infant, in Mexico.”

  “You lived in Mexico?”

  Katrina glanced at Tom, a brief flicker of fear in her eyes, and in that instant, Seby discerned that Teresa did not know the story of the two marriages, the polygamous colony, and the part Katrina had played in his birth. He had himself learned the whole of it only after his Uncle Miguel Antonio’s death, when his grandfather disclosed the details of Seby’s childhood. It had been as shocking to him as he was sure it would be to Teresa.

  “I did, Teresa, when I was a young woman not much older than you,” Katrina responded.

  “How? I thought you came to Salt Lake from Norway?” Teresa pressed.

  Tom was standing in front of the fireplace, near Katrina’s chair. “Tess, your Mom lived for a period of time in a Mormon colony, partway down Mexico, near Mazatlan.”

  “A Mormon colony? I’ve heard about those. Weren’t they polygamous?”

  Seby noisily set his plate down on the side table, his action briefly drawing attention away from the conversation.

  “Señora Callahan, perhaps you would like to see a picture of my mother?” He pulled a small, leather wallet from his pocket and removed a well-worn, wrinkled photograph. “This is a picture of my mother about the time of my birth, Señora. Her name,” he said, smiling at Teresa, “was also Teresa. Teresa Maria.”

  Katrina took the picture and reached for her reading glasses on the table next to her parlor chair. She adjusted the glasses and angled the picture to reflect the light from the small lamp next to the chair.

  Teresa looked curiously at her mother whom, she could see, was quite moved by the picture.

  “That picture was given to me by my uncle some years after her death. I actually did not know the full story,” he paused, glancing at Teresa, “until after my uncle was killed fighting the rebels. My grandfather told me the story of the colony, my father, and the death of my mother.”

  Teresa sat quietly on the divan, unsure of what was happening between her mother and this new visitor.

  “Katie,” Tom said, “I think it was a difficult time for Seby and his family. The revolutionaries were not too pleased with the upper classes. When Seby came into the bank this morning, his account was under the name of Antonio. Sebastian Cardenas and Sebastian Antonio.”

  “Señor, and Señora,” Seby said, looking toward Tom, “I meant no harm, but when I left Mexico, I took my uncle’s name. The revolutionaries were, uh ... they were seeking persons from the ...” he paused, looking again at Tom.

  “Seby ...” Tom said, moving to stand beside Katrina’s chair and gently patting her shoulder and nodding in support to ease the boy’s frustration, “... as we all know, you come from a prominent family, and in light of the revolution against the upper classes, I presume you felt it necessary to change your name until you came to the States. Is that correct?”

  Seby nodded. “Si, Señor. The patrons were not in good favor.”

  “I understand,” Tom said. Katrina lifted her hand to cover Tom’s, which rested on her shoulder.

  “Sebastian,” Katrina said, “your mother was my dearest friend—my sister, in fact,” she added, her voice cracking.

  “I have wondered if I would ever meet the Yanqui woman who my grandfather said was so brave and cared for me when my mother died.”

  “Well, I don’t understand any of this,” Tess finally blurted out. She saw that her mother’s tears had begun to flow, causing her more frustration at her ignorance—frustration that was beginning to turn to anger. “Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” she pleaded.

  Katrina cupped her hands over her face, crying softly as the picture of Seby’s mother lay in her lap. “Oh, Tess, I don’t know how to tell you.”

  “Tess,” Tom said gently, “your mother was married before our marriage. She married Harold Stromberg, the young man who baptized her family in Norway. When he came home from his mission, they courted and eventually married. His father, Magnus Stromberg Jr., started the colony in Mexico.”

  “Stromberg!” Teresa gasped.”

  “Just listen, Tess—”

  “Seby is my brother!” she cried.

  “No, Tess. Let me explain,” Tom continued.

  “I’ll do it, Thomas,” Katrina said, rising from her seat and moving to sit next to Teresa on the divan. “Tess, at seventeen, I married Harold, as your father has said. His father, unknown to me, was at odds with the Prophet’s Manifesto on polygamy. He had purchased a large section of land in Mexico and was determined to start a new colony, ‘in the Lord’s way,’ he later said. Harold told me none of this, Tess, and we prepared to move to Mexico.”

  “Mom, I don’t ...”

  Katrina took Tess’s hand and tried to smile at her. “Tess, I know this is hard for you. Please, let me explain. We moved to Mexico, and on the ship, just before we arrived, Harold said that I should pretend to be his sister, since my name was now Stromberg. I didn’t understand, but he said his father needed to arrange land purchases, and everything would be better if they did not know his son was married. It didn’t sound right, but I agreed. Eventually, Tess,” Katrina said, tears again flowing, “I discovered that he had also married Seby’s mother, Teresa Maria Cardenas, on a trip to Mexico some months after he had married me in Salt Lake. I was devastated. She thought I was Harold’s sister, and Tess ... we were both pregnant.”

  “You have another child?” Tess wailed.

  “No, Tess, he died at birth. Teresa and I became very close friends. Like I said, almost sisters. We had both been betrayed by Harold. Eventually an uprising of local villagers destroyed the colony, and Seby’s mother, a very brave woman,” Katrina added, smiling through her tears at Seby, “was killed that evening just as she gave birth to Sebastian. Seby’s uncle, Miguel Antonio, took me and the baby ... she hesitated, looking again at Seby, “I don’t think he knew you were Teresa’s baby, Seby. Anyway, he took us to a remote shack on the beach, on the edge of the jungle. I lived there for nearly four months, alone with Seby. Finally, I felt if we
remained there, we would both die, and I hiked a very long way through the jungle to Don Sebastian’s ranch. Your father and Uncle Anders came for me after that.”

  The room was silent except for Tess’s labored breathing, and Katrina’s sniffles.

  “You were in a polygamous marriage, Mom? A colony of Mormon polygamists?”

  “Yes, Teresa,” Katrina answered softly.

  “Tess,” Tom added, “your Mom didn’t know about any of this until it was too late for her to escape. And she was married, to Harold, in the Temple.”

  “What did the church say about all of this?” Tess asked.

  “Harold and his father were excommunicated,” Katrina said.

  “And you?”

  “No. When I returned, President George Q. Cannon interviewed me and, bless his heart, understood much more about the situation than I did. He blessed me with the strength to overcome and later, well, later he said I bore no responsibility and wasn’t guilty of any wrongdoing. He counseled me to love your father until he saw the light and joined the church,” she said, smiling at Tom and sniffling.

  “How could you do this to me, Mom?” Teresa said, standing up to look down at her mother.

  “What do you mean, Tess?” Katrina asked.

  “Why didn’t you tell me? How can I face the girls at school? They all make fun of Patty because her grandfather was a polygamist. They refused to let her into the sorority,” she cried.

  “Maybe she’s better off without them, Tess,” Tom said sternly. “You might find it easy to look back and judge your mother, but it was—”

  “It’s all right, Thomas,” Katrina said, her control returning. “Tess, I am truly sorry for the way this came to your attention. That is my fault. I should have told each of you years ago. For that I offer my apology.”