Forever Mine: Callaghan Brothers, Book 9 (8 page)

He made it about half way across the lot when he stopped. There, in the window, he saw her. Kathleen. Looking even more beautiful than he remembered. She wore a powder-blue waitress uniform, her black hair pulled back into a clasp at the base of her neck. Pad and pencil in hand, she was taking the order of an elderly couple.

And then, as if sensing him, she looked up. Their eyes met, and time itself stopped.

The next thing he knew, she was flying out the door, skidding to a stop less than a foot away.

“Jack? Is it really you? Or am I dreaming again?”

“It’s not a dream.”

And then, just like he remembered, she launched herself into his arms. He tried to brace himself, but his leg gave out and he lost his balance. Grabbing her around the waist, he just went with it, falling backward with her on top of him. He never felt the impact; all his could feel was the warm, fragrant flesh of his
croie
.

She kissed him, long and hard, and Jack was certain he’d died and gone to heaven.

“I missed you so much,” she whispered.

“I missed you, too.”

He looked up into her face, her beautiful, perfect face, and saw the crystal droplets on her lashes. With the snow falling softly, the glow of the lamplight behind her, he was even more certain he was in heaven, because she looked exactly like an angel.

“Oi!  Lass, what in name of—”

Conlan O’Leary’s deep voice boomed out from the front of the diner, where two dozen or so patrons were peeled to windows, watching the scene with great interest. “Jack? Jack Callaghan, is that you lad? Come on inside then, before ye both catch yer death.”

Kathleen leaned down and kissed him again (
thank God!
). She didn’t seem in any hurry to move. He wasn’t, either, but it was snowing and she was in just that little waitress uniform.

“Guess we should go in.”

“Guess we should,” she agreed, but made no attempt to move until he put his big hands around her waist and lifted. She was every bit as soft as he remembered.

She laced her fingers with his, and his heart soared. It was a good thing, because now that he’d seen her, he was quite sure he was never going to let her go again.

“Welcome back, son,” Conlan said, clasping him on the shoulder. “Come, sit. We’ll get ye something te eat.”

Food? Who could think about food? His thoughts must have shown clearly on his face, because Conlan gave a knowing chuckle. “Aye, I ken ye have some catching up te do, but ye can do so with something hot in yer belly.”

They moved to the round booth in the back corner, the most secluded table in the place. “Katie-belle, ye are officially off-duty. I’ll get ye both some coffee. And remember,” the older man said with a wink and twinkle in his eye, “this is a family place.”

Kathleen blushed as they slid in next to each other, but she kept her hand in his. “I knew you would keep your promise,” she murmured.

It was a heady feeling to know someone believed in him so absolutely. There were times when even he had his doubts, not for lack of effort, but because of circumstances beyond his control. And in that moment, he swore to never, ever willingly let this amazing woman down.

“I wouldn’t have made it without you,” he replied truthfully. “Knowing you were waiting...”

“Always,” she whispered.

Conlan brought them coffee, soup, and sandwiches. “It’s good to have you home, Jack.”

“It’s good to be home, Mr. O’Leary.”

“Now maybe my daughter will start smiling again, eh?”

“I’ll do my best, sir. Speaking of, might I have a word?”

The old man’s eyes lightened. “Aye.”

“Kathleen, would you excuse us for a moment?” She didn’t want to release his hand, but he brought hers up to his lips and brushed a kiss over her knuckles. “Just a moment, I promise.”

She nodded. “I should go freshen up a little anyway.”

Jack didn’t think so. She looked beautiful. Had this not been so important, he wouldn’t have given her the chance. He couldn’t help but watch as she walked away, the slight sway of her hips, the swing of her ponytail, resurrecting long-dormant sensations. Only when she disappeared behind the double doors did he turn to her father.

“Sir, I’d like to marry your daughter.”

“Ye don’t beat around the bush, do you, lad?”

“No, sir. I love Kathleen, and I don’t want to waste another minute.”

Conlan studied him, then nodded. “Aye. Ye are a good man. If she’ll have ye, I’ve no objections.”

Relief washed over him. He liked the old man, and wanted his blessing, but in truth, nothing would have stopped him. “Thank you, sir.”

“Will ye be proposing then?”

“Aye.” Jack pulled out the small box he’d purchased years earlier on his last visit home. The one he’d hidden in his closet. Thankfully, it didn’t appear that Kathleen had discovered his secret hiding place.

“Good lad.”

Kathleen returned, no longer in her uniform, but in a pair of figure-hugging bell-bottomed jeans and a loose, flowery top. Her hair was down, brushed to a soft shine and curling around her shoulders. Both Jack and Conlan stood at her approach.

Wobbling a bit, Jack steadied himself with a hand on the table as he went down on one knee. “Kathleen Siobhan O’Leary, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

The diner went silent as Kathleen lifted a trembling left hand out to him. Her voice was clear as she gave him her answer. “Aye, Jack Padraig Callaghan. I will.”

Jack slipped the ring on her finger. Cheers erupted as Jack stood and took his fiancée in his arms.

“Ready to get out of here?” he asked breathlessly.

“So ready,” she grinned.

“I guess I’ll just wrap this up for ye, then,” Conlan said, his green eyes bright with amusement and warning. “I’ll expect my daughter home by midnight, and in the same pristine condition in which she’s leaving.”

“Da! I’m twenty-five years old!”

“Doona ‘Da’ me,” Conlan said, his accent thicker than it had been only moments earlier. “It doesn’t matter how old ye are, ye are my daughter. My
unmarried
,
innocent
daughter.”

Kathleen opened her mouth to say something, but Jack squeezed her hand. “She’s in good hands with me, Mr. O’Leary.”

Conlan nodded approvingly, picked up their plates, and headed into the kitchen.

––––––––

“I
don’t know why you agreed to that,” Kathleen pouted later, snuggled across his lap.

Jack chuckled. There was a large, stiff part of him thinking exactly the same thing, but thankfully, his self-discipline prevailed. “Your father is right, Kathleen,” Jack said, tucking a strand of black silk behind her ear. “We should wait.”

“Why? We’re both adults. Haven’t we waited long enough?”

“I would wait forever for you, Kathleen, if it meant doing it right. Tell me you don’t want a proper wedding.”

“Well of course I do. But I want you more.”

“And you have me, for as long as you want me. Tonight, I just want to hold you, okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed with an exhale. “But I’m calling Father Murphy first thing in the morning and we are doing this sooner rather than later.”

“Sounds right to me,” he agreed, kissing her into silence once again.

S
eptember 2015

Pine Ridge

Michael opened the door to his office, exhausted, to find Jake snoring on his couch. He pushed his brother’s legs off the end to make room, then sat down heavily and rubbed his eyes. “Everyone else went home to grab a shower. You should, too, man. You reek.”

“Says the man who hasn’t slept in two days,” Jake mumbled. “What’s the word?”

“They’re moving Dad out of the CICU to the step-down unit.”

“That’s good news, right?”

“Yeah, it’s good news.”

“So why do you look like someone pissed in your coffee?”

“Like you said, I haven’t slept in two days.”

“Bullshit. I’ve seen you go a lot longer than that. Level with me, Mick.”

“What, did Shane give you some of his psychic mojo or something?”

“No. But I know you, little brother, and something’s got you spooked. Talk to me.”

Michael exhaled. Jake wouldn’t let it go, and he was too tired to play games. “It’s probably nothing, but something just isn’t adding up.”

“It’s a hell of a thing, having a heart attack.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Shane says you think it wasn’t a complete surprise, though.”

“Shane has a big mouth.”

“Kier doesn’t think it was a surprise either.”

“What the hell does Kier know?”

“He knows Dad hasn’t been at
BodyWorks
for over two weeks.”

Michael frowned. Given the history of heart disease in their family, Jack was a stickler for keeping in shape and insisted his sons did the same. For him to miss two weeks was unusual, but it wasn’t exactly a red flag. “So?”

“So, Kier says the last time the old man was in, he cut his workout short. And when he left, he was covered in sweat and as pale as a ghost. He told Kier it was just indigestion, but he hasn’t been back since.”

Indigestion. Just like Jack had told Maggie. “No one thought to mention it?”

Jake shrugged. “Didn’t think anything of it. Would you? Shit, Mick. He said it was indigestion, for Christ’s sake.”

Michael leaned back and closed his eyes. “Karen, the night shift nurse, told me she went into Dad’s room last night and he called her Kathleen.”

“With all the shit you’re pumping into him, that’s not unusual, is it? You did a bit of calling for Mom yourself when you decided to play Superman and got that hole in your chest a couple of years ago.”

Michael winced at the memory. He and Maggie had been going through a rough patch, and he’d thought he’d lost her forever. His judgment had been adversely affected, and he’d taken chances he normally wouldn’t have on that op. He’d ended up nearly getting himself killed in the process.

“Yeah, well, that’s when I was out of it, not when I was awake.”

Jake sat up straighter, his blue eyes alert. “What?”

Michael told him about what had happened in the OR. Jake was floored, gaping at him in disbelief. “You think he was talking to Mom? That he saw her?”

“I don’t know. I’d like to say it was the sedation, but you should have seen the look in his eyes, Jake. I haven’t seen that look since Mom died.
He
believes.”

“Jesus.” Jake stood up and started pacing. He made several trips around the office. Michael knew he was thinking the same thing he was:  that the thought of seeing his
croie
again after all these years might be enough of an incentive to ignore the warning signs of an impending heart attack.

“What the hell do we do now?”

“Nothing. We could be way off base here, Jake. Let’s give it some time. Nothing is going to happen to him while he’s here.”

Jake blew out a breath. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

––––––––

F
ebruary 1975

Pine Ridge

“Getting cold feet yet, young Callaghan?” Declan Kennedy chuckled when Jack slid the dark, frothy draft in front of him. “Your wedding is what, only two or three weeks away?”

“’Course he is,” nodded Fergus McCandless before Jack could respond. “What sane man wouldn’t?”

“Aye. I’d rather be shackled and staked out naked than go through that again,” claimed Bob O’Malley.

“Now there’s a fine visual,” shuddered Brody Mackenzie.

“Shut it, all of you,” said Brian O’Connell, rising to his defense. “His wedding can’t come fast enough for him.”

“Ah, a groom eagerly running toward the altar instead of away from it. ‘Tis a novel thing, that.”

“’Tis not the wedding, but the wedding night he’s running toward.”

A couple of regulars laughed; Jack smiled but said nothing. Yeah, he was definitely looking forward to that, but there was so much more to it. Kathleen was his
croie
, his heart, and every day his love for her only grew.

Danny Finnegan, owner of the establishment which had become his second home, said, “Brian, be a good lad and take over the bar for a wee bit.”

“I’m fine,” Jack said. His leg was aching something fierce from being on his feet so long, but he hated the sympathy he saw in their eyes. He was afraid that one day, someone was going to ask him what happened, but so far, no one had. He hoped they never did, because he never, ever, wanted to speak of that again.

“Aye, I know, lad, but there’s something I’ve been wanting te discuss with ye. Grab a couple of glasses and a bottle from the top shelf and come with me.”

Jack and Brian exchanged glances, then Brian took his place behind the bar. It was no secret that Danny Finnegan had been talking about selling the place. Jack wondered if this was the point where Danny took him aside and gave him the bad news, told him he’d have to look for another job.

Finding something suitable would be tough, at least until he settled back in and started feeling normal again. If that was even possible. With his wedding on the horizon he needed a means to support Kathleen. Conlan had offered him a job at the diner, but Jack’s pride wouldn’t let him accept. He wanted to care for his wife and future family on his own.

“Sit, lad, and pour us both a drink.”

Jack did as he asked. Danny put the shot to his lips, then tossed it back with the ease of a man who had been doing so for ages. Jack poured him another.

“Do ye know what the secret of running your own bar is, lad?”

“No, sir.”

“Doona drink the profits.” Danny laughed, then lifted the glass to his lips. “Go on then. Bottoms up.”

Danny waited until Jack drank his, then said. “This bar has been my home for over seventy years, Jack. My father owned it before me, and his father before him. She has a history, she does. Housed Union soldiers in the Civil War.” Danny’s eyes scanned the place, and having assured that he was among friends, leaned forward and spoke in hushed, reverent tones. “And was the secret meeting place of the Mollies for years.”

Jack said nothing. He’d heard these stories a hundred times if he’d heard them once. Danny loved telling anyone who would listen (as long as they were local and Irish) that quite a few of his not-so-distant ancestors had been part of the Molly Maguires. The Mollies, as they were known, were a secret society of poor Irish immigrants who slaved in the region’s anthracite mines and rebelled against the rich mine owners and their watchdogs in the latter part of the 19
^th
century. The group went far underground when twenty of them were convicted of murder and other crimes and hung. Though a hundred years had passed, it was still a very sore subject among the locals, and only spoken of in trusted company.