First and Only: Callaghan Brothers, Book 2

by Zanders, Abbie

  Jack had never seen such a blatant display of pettiness and malice. “The hell she doesn’t!” he said forcefully. Lexi squeezed his hand. He looked at her in surprise. She was giving him reassurance. Had the situation not deteriorated so quickly he might have smiled.

  “You know what, Kayla? I’m not really sure that’s true,” Lexi said slowly. “Being back in Pine Ridge these past few days, well, it’s made me realize how much I miss it. The clean, fresh mountain air. The dramatic change in seasons. And the people. Everyone has been so very nice and supportive.” She gave Jack a warm smile. “Especially Uncle Jack and the boys. They’ve been wonderful.”

  The atmosphere in the room grew noticeably chillier. “I beg your pardon?” Patricia’s sobs became sniffles.

  Lexi stood, squaring her shoulders. It was a slight movement, very graceful, but powerful. “You heard me. I don’t think I’ll let you run me out of town again just yet.” Turning to the lawyer, she said, “Mr. Williamson, have we finished?”

  The solicitor’s eyes shined with approval and respect. “We have.”

  “Then I thank you for all of your efforts. I’ll be in touch.” And then Lexi swept out of the office with the dignity and grace of royalty.

  As they took their leave, Jack heard Patricia and Kayla arguing in earnest with the solicitor, but with more than a little exasperation in his voice, he explained that there was nothing he could do. Jack, however, was walking tall with a huge grin on his still-handsome face and pride just radiating from every pore in his body.

  “Alexis, lass,” he said as he beamed at her, “I am going to treat you to the best steak dinner money can buy.”

  * * *

  Lexi’s head was spinning, the band of panic tightening around her chest. It was a good thing that Jack Callaghan was the old-fashioned, chivalrous type. He thought nothing unusual about the way she clung to his arm as he escorted her back to the Pub. He appeared to like it actually, patting her hand and telling her how proud he was in that heart-warming, old-country accent of his.

  What the hell had she just done? Jack Callaghan was beaming at her like she’d just won the Nobel Prize, yet her legs felt so wobbly she wasn’t sure she could take the next step without his support. Luckily, Jack was too riled up to notice. Or if he did, he was too kind to say anything.

  She had let her anger get the better of her. She blamed it on her inherently volatile Irish temper, the one she usually kept hidden well under the layers of discipline. The one over which she’d thought she had mastered control years ago.

  Apparently coming back home was affecting her good judgment, beginning with her first night. She’d given up her body to a man who didn’t even know who she was in a desperate, this-is-a-once-in-a-lifetime opportunity moment. And not just once. Heaven help her, just thinking of all the things she had done to him – that she let him do to her - that night had her body temperature rising several degrees, her skin tingling all over, and a little twinge of residual soreness reminding her of just how innocent she’d been.

  The hell with good judgment. She couldn’t – wouldn’t – regret their time together. No matter what. Ian had been magnificent. At once tender and fierce. Maybe it was just her imagination, but she would swear it had been so much more than sex, even for him. For one glorious night she had felt ... loved, treasured.

  She gave herself a mental shake. Don’t go there, don’t even think about it.

  But this fell on the opposite end of the poor judgment spectrum. This wasn’t filling her with the same warm and fuzzy. Instead, cold dread slithered through her belly, instantly quelling all the good feelings that memories of her time with Ian had brought forth. Now she had effectively drawn a line in the sand with her stepmother over a house she didn’t want in a place she didn’t want to be. What the hell was wrong with her?

  Her life was in Benton now. Her stable, lucrative, uncomplicated life with a definite schedule. Wake up at five. Have a light breakfast. Exercise in her building’s exclusive fitness center – an hour in the pool, a few light weights. Shower and dress. Walk to the restaurant. Lunch with Aidan. Then work till ten or so. Walk home, shadowed by the escort Aidan always dispatched but didn’t think she knew about. Another shower. Read a few chapters. Go to sleep and dream about Ian.

  Boring, maybe. But it worked for her. She was successful and content. She had a job she loved and the opportunity to help others. The Benton County Shelter had become her second home on Sundays, when Aidan physically banned her from entering the restaurant. Her life was simple, and she liked that. No complicated relationships.

  Another bonus? Nobody there wanted her head on a platter, at least not that she knew of. Why complicate things?

  Pine Ridge might be where she started, but there was nothing here for her anymore.

  At least that’s what she tried to tell herself, but even she felt the lie. There was plenty here. History. Friendship. Support. Incredibly hot burning passion.

  Inexorably mixed in were hatred, pettiness, jealousy, and, she was pretty sure, the certainty of a broken heart. She’d already had enough of all that to last her a lifetime. No, to live here would take more strength, more courage than she had. There would be too much drama, throwing her already-fragile, chemically-balanced life into a total mess.

  Lexi didn’t need a steak dinner. She needed a good stiff drink. Several of them, in fact. The fact that she didn’t drink was completely irrelevant.

  With that in mind, she gratefully accepted the finely-aged Irish whiskey Jack poured for her in celebration when they returned to the Pub. She sat quietly, letting the alcohol slide down the back of her throat like silken fire, as Jack regaled Jake, his wife Taryn, and Ian – the only ones in the Pub at that hour - with a condensed version of what had occurred. Jake looked almost as proud as Jack did, and Taryn seemed genuinely excited. Lexi had met her at the funeral and had instantly taken to the woman. Had she remained in Pine Ridge, she felt sure she and Taryn would have been good friends.

  But Ian’s face was unreadable. She could feel his devastating blue eyes on her, as if he was trying to work out a particularly difficult puzzle. This morning’s brief encounter had left the waters murky at best. She didn’t have a clue what he was thinking, and that was tying her up in knots even more.

  Was he angry with her for not telling him who she was and why she was in town? Maybe. The “Hell, no” she got in response to her earlier question had stung quite a bit more than she’d cared to admit, but she’d deserved it. She was playing a dangerous game with a man way out of her league. What did she expect?

  Well, if he was angry, he was hiding it pretty well. Everything about him suggested intensity, but not necessarily umbrage. Then again, he wasn’t exactly fist-pumping at the idea of having her around any longer than necessary.

  Of course he’s not happy about it, she told herself as she lifted the glass to her lips, acutely aware of Ian’s penetrating gaze and completely unaware that Jake had refilled her glass. Twice. He doesn’t want you sticking around. You were supposed to be a one-time thing, remember? Not to mention the fact that – oh yeah – he’s got a long time thing with Kayla.

  That last thought had pain shooting through her stomach – or was that the shot she just chugged? – causing her to wince. Ian’s watchful gaze narrowed.

  Oh yeah. She could understand why he would not be quite as pleased as the rest of them. Still, it hurt. Somewhere - way deep down - some tiny little part of her still held out hope that he might actually want her to stay, even if it was completely out of the question.

  Chapter Ten

  Despite her protests, Jack insisted on driving Lexi over to look at the property. All she really wanted to do was head back to the hotel and soak in a hot tub for a day or two until she returned to her senses and could make a rational, practical decision based on something other than pure emotion. But after standing up and letting the whiskey circulate a little, she had a lovely, warm buzz going and didn’t have the heart to tell him no.


  What would she do with a house, she mused on the way over? Houses required maintenance, upkeep. Who would do all that? She liked her apartment. When something broke, she called Aidan and it would be fixed right away. Beyond changing a light bulb or jiggling the handle of the toilet when it ran, her knowledge of home repairs was non-existent.

  As they drove farther out of town, it dawned on her that it wasn’t just a house, but a house that most likely had property associated with it (she blamed the whiskey for the slow uptake). What about mowing the lawn and trimming shrubs and that sort of thing? Outside of the kitchen, she stayed far away from anything that included a motor and sharp blades, or, Heaven forbid, both. She shivered just thinking about it.

  But it would be nice, some little voice in her head said, to plant your own flowers and have a nice little herb garden, wouldn’t it? She shushed the voice away, earning a curious glance from Jack.

  The property was located about ten miles past the outskirts of town. She hadn’t even noticed the turn-off. It was well concealed by massive trees and mountain laurel in full bloom. A strong sense of déjà vu came over her as they wound their way down the long, overgrown drive.

  The feeling grew stronger as the ancient-looking stone cottage came into view, and it had nothing to do with the Irish whiskey. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it; the place seemed so familiar, and yet somehow different, if that made any sense.

  The trees outside seemed bigger than they should have been. The overgrown gardens should have been neatly tended and weed-free. Blossoming vines grew unchecked over stone that had once glistened in the sunlight, and the slate roof was badly in need of repair. Without looking, Lexi somehow knew that if she walked around the exterior, she would find a huge flat-stone patio in the back. And beyond that, a creek that bisected near the edge of the property, forming a tiny island in the middle, perfect for childhood adventures.

  Without conscious effort, her mind transformed the reality of the property’s present state into long-forgotten images. Visions of bright yellow and white flowers appeared, blossoming all around the wrap-around porch. There had been roses once, too, but after she’d gotten tangled in them, they had all been ripped out and replaced with less thorny selections. Baskets had hung from the roof of the porch, spilling blooms downward like soft-petaled waterfalls. Dark reddish-brown shutters, painted to match the hues of the natural stone, framed windows opened wide to capture the summer breeze. The picture of a gallon of sun tea on the wide, southerly facing kitchen sill and a basketful of ripe peaches from the little orchard on the right was too clear, too detailed to be just a dream.

  “You probably don’t remember,” Jack said, watching her reaction carefully, “but this was your Grandmother’s place – your dad’s mama. It was where you and your mom used to stay when your father and I got called out.”

  Jack took the keys from her trembling hands and opened the door for her. Memories flooded back in earnest.

  “I remember!” she murmured, retracing the steps she had taken years and years ago. Off to the left was a huge sitting room, where her Grandma would rock back and forth while she played on the floor. To the right was a kitchen – a massive room that had once held a wooden table the size of a car and a fireplace so big she could walk into it. Farther back were the bedrooms - she remembered the three of them used to fit quite nicely on the enormous poster bed in the largest one - and a bathroom with a big claw-foot tub that she’d needed a wooden box to reach. By today’s standards, the house was small and ancient. But to Lexi, it was about the most perfect thing she had ever seen.

  * * *

  They spent several hours at the house, moving from room to room, discovering sections that Lexi didn’t remember quite as well. They explored the ten secluded acres – including the orchard – barely recognizable now – and the creek, whose path had surprisingly changed very little. They found a few outbuildings, too, including a cold cellar with its own still-flowing spring, and a smokehouse. Even with the poor shape the house and grounds were in, the small estate had tremendous value.

  Jack, a man of very few words, said little, finding enjoyment in the beautiful afternoon and the pleasure of Lexi’s company. He stayed close, watching as Lexi went from room to room, her face filled with wonder. Damn if it didn’t do his old heart good to see her smile again. In all his years, he’d never come across a lonelier soul, or a woman who deserved it less. Even after all this time, the look in her eyes the day he’d driven her out of town still haunted him.

  It was therefore with much sadness that he saw Lexi’s unfortunate, necessary return to reality as the sun began to set. They sat together on the southernmost border, on a small ledge that overlooked the entire valley, now bathed in a soft, amber glow that matched her eyes. This view alone made the property priceless.

  “This has been wonderful,” Lexi said, her eyes moist as she gazed out at the sunset.

  “Aye, that it has,” Jack said simply, but the wonder he’d glimpsed hadn’t been in the house or the grounds. It had been in the eyes and heart and mind of a girl who had, at least for a few hours, remembered how to dream.

  “Thanks, Uncle Jack, for bringing me here.”

  “My pleasure, lass.”

  “I can’t keep it.” Jack remained silent, watching the spark of light he’d seen in her eyes all afternoon as it began to dull. “It’s not habitable,” she said.

  “No,” Jack agreed, slowly. “But it could be with a little work. She’s structurally sound.”

  “A little?” Lexi said doubtfully. “Uncle Jack, you said yourself the wiring was shot, the plumbing needs a complete overhaul, ...” She went on and on as he let her get it all out, somewhat surprised and impressed that she had registered and retained all that throughout the afternoon. With every reason she listed, her exuberance waned a little more, and it was almost painful to witness.

  In his opinion, Lexi needed this house. She wanted it; she just didn’t believe she could have it.

  “I wouldn’t even know where to start,” she concluded, blowing out a breath, deflating before his eyes.

  “You speak as if you had to do it all alone, lass.”

  Her eyes flickered with hope for a moment, but then she shook her head. “I’m sorry, Uncle Jack, but I just don’t belong here anymore.” The sadness in her eyes was heart-wrenching.

  “Bullshite. You’ve got family here.”

  Lexi snorted softly, something that sounded like a cross between a choked sob and a laugh. “Surely you’re not talking about Patricia and Kayla?”

  “Of course not.”

  Lexi looked genuinely baffled.

  “Now you are just being insulting, lass,” he huffed.

  Realization dawned on her face; her eyes widened and her cheeks grew red. “I didn’t mean –“

  “I know what you meant,” he finished for her. “But family doesn’t always have to be blood.” He took her hand in his, and looked at it intensely while he gathered his thoughts. “As long as we’re around, you will always have family here, do you hear what I am saying, Alexis?”

  She nodded, averting her eyes, but not before he saw the telltale sheen of moisture in them.

  “That’s a good lass. We will talk about this more tonight over dinner and then you can sleep on it, alright?”

  * * *

  Lexi picked at her dinner under Kieran’s watchful eye, but only because Kieran threatened to force-feed her if she didn’t eat something. Part of her itched to call his bluff. The other part of her though – the realistic part – knew him well enough to know that he would make good on his threat, and wouldn’t that just be a barrel of fun?

  For the most part, she remained silent as Jack brought Kieran up to speed on the day’s events. While listening intently, and managing to put away more than she could eat in a week, Kieran apparently tired of her playing with her food. He reached over and cut her steak into small, bite-sized pieces.

  “Eat,” he commanded, as if she wasn’t a grown woman perfec
tly capable of taking care of herself. Without thinking, she stuck her tongue out at him. His eyes blazed for a few moments – apparently all of the Callaghans had that strange optical power - then the corners of his mouth twitched a little.

  “Oh, that’s real mature, Lex.”

  She couldn’t help it. She smiled, too. Then she started to laugh. Kieran had always been able to do that. To push her buttons until she was ready to throttle him, then say or do something that made her laugh and forgive him instantly.

  “Goof,” she muttered. He pointed at her plate. She sighed, spearing a carrot instead – purely out of spite – and brought it to her lips.

  The food was delicious, but to say she was feeling a bit off-balance would have been putting it mildly. Within intervals as short as five minutes she’d swing from childlike enthusiasm to adult-like pessimism and back again. Throw in a decided lack of sleep, the loss of her father, the stress of Patricia’s appeal against the will, and the whole mess with Ian and she didn’t know which way was up. Taking on the added responsibility of home-ownership was a little more than she was capable of handling at that moment.

  While her logical mind created a list of all the reasons why it was a bad idea, the idealistic, romantic part of her – the same one that had been pining for Ian all these years - tuned it out. The cottage, the land - were perfect. Everything she could ever want. Contrary to what her realistic side said, it wasn’t a broken down cottage on neglected acreage. It was a castle straight out of a fairytale, situated smack-dab in the middle of enchanted ground.

  “Can’t wait to see it,” Kieran said as Jack spoke of their afternoon. “Sounds awesome.”

  “It needs some work,” Jack admitted, and began to run down the substantial renovations required to make it livable.

  And just like that, Lexi’s fantasy took a decided nosedive into reality once again. He meant well, she knew he did, but he didn’t understand, and she couldn’t expect him to. The kind man she called her Uncle Jack spoke as if she really was a part of their family, but she wasn’t.