Callahan's Fate (2 page)

He couldn’t believe he shared that. His
sometimes fanciful imagination wasn’t something he shared.
 
He wished he could snatch the words back, until
she smiled. “I love those images,” she said. “I know I haven’t even seen the
ferry yet, but it brings to mind Edna St. Vincent Millay’s poem, you know, “
Recuerdo
.”

Cal didn’t, but he did know the word
meant something like
remembrance
in
Spanish. “Tell me how it goes, teach.”

Raine
quoted a few
lines, “
We were tired, we were merry,
we
had gone back and forth all night on the ferry.”
 

He snapped his fingers. “Oh, yeah, I do
know it.
 
Part of that is on the wall
somewhere at the ferry terminal. I don’t read much poetry, never did, but I
like that one.”

They entered the terminal and ascended
to the second level.
 
Callahan got a kick
out of the way she gawked at the food vendors, the uniformed officers with drug
dogs, and the crowds.
 
Seeing the place
through her eyes gave him a fresh perspective.
 
As they stood among the others waiting for the next cruise, he leaned
down and brushed her hair back from her face. “There,” he said. “That’s better.
 
So this is okay? You don’t mind missing Times
Square?”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t.
 
It’ll be there, and I’ve been, once.
 
I just didn’t have anything else to do
today.”

“I know the feeling,” he told her.

Together they boarded the
John F. Kennedy
, one of the older
ferryboats still in service.
 
Callahan
had ridden it since childhood, but he still experienced a thrill when he
stepped on board.
 
He maneuvered
Raine
to a spot near the railing on the right side as they
headed out into the bay so they’d have the best view of the sights.
 
Acting like a tour guide, he pointed out the
sights as they passed.
 
They made small
talk, and he delighted in watching the expressions change on her face from
delight to wonder and back again.

 
She intrigued him and evoked a deep curiosity.
 
Everything about her shouted
small-town-raised
and
country girl.
 
He could imagine her doing rural things,
maybe milking a cow or pulling eggs from beneath a hen.
 
Of course, he didn’t know anything about such
chores, and his notions came from books or movies, not personal
experience.
 
She possessed a delicious
combination of beauty and vulnerability.
 
Callahan wanted to French kiss her—hell, to be honest, he ached to take
her hard and fast.
 
He also wanted to
hold her hand, too, though, and cherish her like a virgin on prom night.
 
Cal yearned to know what she liked and what
she didn’t, to discover her thoughts, and get acquainted.

From the moment he saw her at the subway
station, he’d gone from admiration and a desire to offer help to something
deeper.
 
He had never believed in love at
first sight—and he still didn’t—but Cal wanted to, and that was huge.
 
By the time they docked at the St. George
terminal on Staten Island, he knew he wanted to spend the rest of the day
getting to know her.
 
He liked her
company and wanted more.
 
The poker game
he’d planned to join for the evening no longer seemed as desirable or fun.

“So you want a soda or something?” he
asked as they walked into the terminal with the crowd. “Or you just
wanna
go back?”

Raine
gazed up at
him. “No, I don’t, unless you have somewhere else you need to be.
 
I’d love something to drink.
 
I’m thirsty.”

They settled for bottled green tea in
the terminal,
then
boarded another ferry for the
return trip.
 
This time, they stood on
the upper deck against the rail and watched Manhattan as it grew larger.
 
Minutes before they reached the Whitehall
terminal, Callahan turned to her. “You wouldn’t want to ride it again, would
you?”

Her grin answered before she spoke. “I’d
love to, Officer Callahan.”

He looped one arm over her shoulders,
friendly more than intimate. “Aw, don’t insult me like that,” he said. “I told
you, call me Callahan or Cal.”

“Don’t you have a first name?”

“I do.”

One small giggle escaped her mouth. “I figured
you did.
 
So what is it?”

“That’s on a need-to-know basis,” he
said. His parents had saddled him with a proud, old family name, one his
grandfather and great-grandfather had endured before he did.
 
During grammar school, he’d taken his share
of ribbing about it.
 
He never shared it
willingly with anyone since, and even his closest buddies had no idea. Callahan
could never understand why his parents saved it for the last kid, the third
son.

Raine
lifted one
finger and touched the corner of his mouth, then traced his upper lip.
  
He kissed it, more a reflex than a romantic
notion.
 
“I think I need to know,” she
told him. “I wouldn’t want to think you’ve been holding out on me.”

Her touch affected him like a match to a
short fuse.
 
His body tingled with
something close to anticipation, and he resisted the overwhelming urge to kiss
her.
 
“If I tell you, you
gotta
promise not to call me by it,” he said. “And make a
pinky-swear you’ll never tell another living soul.”

Laughter erupted from
Raine
, and she crooked her little finger around his. “I
promise.”

“
Awright
,
awright
, I’ll tell you.
 
It’s Aloysius.”

Cal cringed as he said it, the long,
old-fashioned moniker still able to bring embarrassment, and waited for her
reaction.
 
He figured, like everyone else,
she would laugh like crazy, but she didn’t.
 
Instead, she repeated it as if committing it to memory.

“Al-
oo
-wish-us,”
Raine
said.
 

“Yeah.”

“That’s not so bad.
 
Didn’t your family give you a nickname or
something?”

He dredged it up from the past. “Yeah, they
called me Buddy. So
whaddya
think, doll?”

Her eyes met his and held the gaze. “I
think it’s a fine, old family name, an heirloom of sorts, but I can understand
why you don’t like to use it, Callahan.”

God, he liked the way his name sounded
on her tongue.
  
Somehow, in her soft
voice, sweeter and kinder than a New York accent, it became almost a
caress.
 
Cal snaked one arm around her
waist as the ferry docked and when the boat shifted in the process, he pulled
her tight. “I like you,
Raine
,” he said.
 
“Something about you gets me here.”

Callahan tapped his chest somewhere near
his heart.

Raine
put her hand
over his. “You had my attention from the moment you asked if I needed
help.
 
I don’t know what happened. I’m
usually shy with strangers, but I’m not with you.”

“Good.
 
Then let’s go get lunch somewhere,
then
we’ll
come back and ride the ferry again.”

“Okay.
 
What happens after that?”

A rush of joy washed over him, so potent
he could all but taste it.
 
Cal wanted to
laugh.
 
His feet yearned to dance and he
wanted to sing, even though he knew he sang off-key at best.
 
“We’ll figure it out then,” he said. “Are you
willing?”

Her lips curved upward into a quirky
smile as she answered. “Yes.”

“Then let’s go,” he said.

He grabbed her hand and they merged with
the crowds spilling back into the terminal,
then
made
their way through the building and outside.
 
Cal couldn’t remember when he’d been happier, and for once he forgot the
tragedies in his past and lived in the moment.

Chapter Two

Each morning since that hot August day she
came to New York to stay,
Raine
woke with
contentment, until she realized her surroundings were no longer the walls of
her childhood bedroom or the familiar ones of her apartment in Springfield. The
ever-present wail of emergency sirens shrieking through the concrete canyons
would filter into her consciousness, and she’d open her eyes with a jolt.
 
Surrounded by the tight space of her studio
apartment,
Raine
would sigh and rise to face another
day. The city overwhelmed her consciousness and threatened to devour her.
 
This wasn’t the magical New York she
remembered from a high school honors trip between her junior and senior years.
This was an alien place.
 
If she had
known how it would be living day to day,
Raine
doubted she would have pursued the teaching job.
 
She would still be working at the high school
in a bedroom community just outside Springfield, Missouri, and sharing a
two-bedroom apartment with her college roommate, Tamara.

Raine
loved her job,
though, working with kids who were at risk.
 
She enjoyed watching their faces light up when they realized that
reading could provide such wide horizons.
 
Although school had been in session just over a month, she thought she
might be making the positive difference she had hoped she would.
 
But the ever-changing backdrop of juvenile
detention centers, urban high schools larger than any she had ever imagined
existed, and pale teens who tried to learn from hospital beds or jail cells
challenged her patience and often bit deep into her fragile happiness.

If she hadn’t been so lonely or felt as
lost as she traveled through the boroughs, maybe it wouldn’t have been as
difficult.
 
So far, although she
interacted daily with others, at the end of the day, she went home alone.
 
She savored solitude, but the empty hours
alone were different.
 
In time, she
thought she might make some friends, but for now she was solo.

Each Saturday,
Raine
attempted to get better acquainted with the city and planned an excursion
somewhere.
 
One week, she had shopped at
Macy’s flagship store, another she visited Grand Central Station and ate a meal
at one of the restaurants on the dining concourse.
 
She’d visited the 9-11
memorial
and taken an expensive but somehow lacking bus tour of New York.
 
Nothing brought as much delight as she had
hoped, however.
 
So far, the Big Apple
had given her a bad case of indigestion.

On this October day, as she walked hand
in hand with Callahan across Battery Park,
Raine
couldn’t stop smiling.
 
Her planned
excursion would have fizzled like the others, she figured.
 
Meeting him changed everything.
 
Her waning enthusiasm for everything ramped
into a wonderful sense of anticipation.
 
Anything could be possible.

She snuck a glance at him as they
strolled.
 
His close-cropped, dark brown
hair suited him with an almost military look.
 
His square-cut jaw and rugged features confirmed his Irish heritage,
although she suspected he might have a few other nationalities in his family
tree.
 
Callahan’s dark eyes sparkled as
he talked about the restaurant where they were headed, but she thought she
glimpsed remnants of sadness in their depths.
 
Although taller than her height, he wasn’t anywhere close to NBA size,
and his lean body was compact as well as powerfully built.
 
The way he moved reminded her of a predator—a
leopard or a tiger—in the way he prowled with an easy grace.
 
In his faded jeans, she wouldn’t have guessed
he was a law enforcement officer, and her gut instinct had been to trust him
before he told her his career.

Callahan combined a gentleman’s charm
with the potential for danger.
 
She liked
him already and she craved more of his company.
 
Whatever happened, wherever this encounter led, she wanted to reach the
destination.

“You’ll like this place,” he told her as
they approached the restaurant several blocks away. “The food’s good and the
view’s
fantastic.”

Right now,
Raine
figured she could eat dirt or grass and it would taste delicious.
 
He ordered a hero sandwich, and she followed
his lead.
 
While waiting for their order,
they shared conversation and she marveled it wasn’t strained or awkward at
all.
 
Once their sandwiches were
delivered, she noticed he bowed his head as if he asked a silent blessing.
 
For the first time,
Raine
noticed he wore a shield-shaped St. Michael medal around his neck.