Forever Mine: Callaghan Brothers, Book 9 (21 page)

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?” Jack 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.”

––––––––

J
ack 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.

He could feel Maggie’s eyes on him. He resisted the childish urge to venture farther, out of her line of sight. While she respected his privacy, she watched over him like a mother hen. What she did, she did out of love and concern, but to a man who had been living without a woman’s direct influence for nearly a quarter of a century, her constant attention took some getting used to.

Both his cardiologist and his doctor son had told him that walking was good, so Jack used that as an opportunity to go for several strolls each day, weather permitting. He cherished the quiet peace of the chilly early mornings. The industrious hum of the afternoons. The gentle cloaking of early evening.

He was careful to keep his forays to the paths and away from the steep slopes. It felt good to move again, even if it was done more slowly and with greater care.

Off to the left, monstrous machines made quick work of harvesting the seasonal crops -— soybean, potatoes, yams, and apples this month. The high-class hotel and restaurant was owned and operated by family friend Aidan Harrison. Jack’s daughter-in-law, Lexi, was the head chef and the creator of the unique mix of Irish and Greek cuisine, a result of her own mixed heritage.

Lexi was also the only daughter of his old friend Brian. A sweet, loving child, she was the perfect match for his mischievous son, Ian. Not for the first time, Jack wondered what Brian thought of those two getting together and smiled, but it was a sad smile. So much had happened after Lexi’s mother passed. Deep in grief, Brian had remarried. Unlike Adonia, Patricia was a selfish, odious woman who, with her equally unpleasant daughter Kayla, had made life a living hell for Lexi.

Jack missed his friend. Brian was gone, having succumbed to a massive heart attack nearly seven years earlier. His death was what brought Lexi and Ian together. Jack liked to believe that it was Brian’s way of making amends for all of the bad things that had happened. Lexi was happy now; Ian made sure of that. Hopefully, Brian was at peace now, too.

The warmth of the sun kissed his face. He lifted it heavenward and closed his eyes, wondering why he was still earth-bound. So many of the people he loved were up there: Kathleen, Bri, Charlie, Fitz, his parents, Erin and Seamus. Why the hell was he still here where they weren’t? How long would it be before he saw them again?

When no answer was forthcoming, he sighed and returned his gaze to the earth. He could almost hear his father’s voice whispering in the light breeze. “
All in good time, son.
”  

The words he’d spoken to his granddaughter days earlier were not spoken lightly. Jack truly believed that everything did happen for a reason. If he was still here, it was because he was supposed to be. Sometimes it was the only thing that got him through the day.

He wished he knew what that reason was. And how long it was going to take.

––––––––

D
ecember 1979

Pine Ridge

“How long is it going to take?” a four-year-old Kane wanted to know as Jack helped Kathleen in the truck.

“Yeah. How long?” echoed his two-, almost three-year-old brother Jake. Kane curled his upper lip and shot his little brother a cold look.

“Stop copying me.”

“Make me,” Jake said stubbornly. One of them, Jack wasn’t sure who, instigated a pushing and shoving match in the back seat.

“Boys!” Jack warned sternly, not in the mood for their spirited antics. Kathleen’s contractions had gone from five minutes apart to less than two in the span of a few hours. Taking the boys along wasn’t his first choice, but they hadn’t been able to get hold of Erin, and Brian had his hands full with the bar.

“It shouldn’t take long,” Kathleen said, slightly breathless. “Your new brother or sister is in a bit of a hurry, it seems.”

“I hope it’s not a girl,” Kane wished fervently.

“No girls,” Jake agreed.

“I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, I want you both to be on your Sunday behavior.”

“Like church?”

“Exactly like church, except you can talk quietly and color. I’ve got brand new coloring books and crayons in my bag for you.”

“The sixty-four count box?” Jake asked hopefully. “With the sharpener in the back?”

“Yes.”

Leave it to Kathleen to think ahead and prepare activity bags for the boys in case it came to this. He hadn’t given it a single thought until just then.

“Okay, Mom.”

“Okay, Mom.”

“Stop copying me!”

Jack was just about to reprimand them again when Kathleen put a hand on his arm. “Jack.”

“What?” he snapped.

“
Hurry
.”

Jack pressed his foot to the floor, fishtailing his way along the frosty streets toward the hospital. Kathleen held on to the side while the boys whooped in glee in the backseat. At least they weren’t arguing anymore, though Jack didn’t miss the way they took advantage of the momentum around the corners to body slam each other.

The ER was bursting with activity when they arrived. Jack helped Kathleen to the only available chair and told the boys to stay with her while he ran up to the receiving window.

“My wife’s in labor,” Jack said hurriedly.

“Not another one,” a square-jawed, gray-haired nurse muttered. “I hate full moons. Name?”

Jack didn’t know what full moons had to do with anything, but he didn’t particularly care. In the forty-five minutes it had taken to collect the boys and get to the hospital, Kathleen’s contractions had become almost continuous.

“Jack Callaghan.”

The nurse rolled her eyes. “Your wife’s name, not yours.”

“Kathleen. Callaghan. Kathleen Callaghan.”

“When did the contractions start?”

“About four hours ago.”

“Did her water break?”

Did it? Shite, he didn’t know. Kathleen said they had to go, so they went. “I – I don’t know.”

Heaving a heavy sigh ripe with disdain, she handed him a clipboard. “Have a seat and fill this out.”

“No, you don’t understand, she’s -—”

“In labor. Yes, you’ve said.” Her mouth thinned into a tight line. “Childbirth is a marathon, Mr. Callaghan, not a sprint. Have a seat.”

“But—-”

“
Have. A. Seat
.”

“Now look here,” Jack began, about to give Nurse BattleAxe a piece of his mind, but Kathleen beat him to it.

“Jack!” she cried out, her voice ringing like fine crystal through the frenzied hum. “The baby is coming
right now
!”

That got the beefy nurse up off her ass. She stood and peered out through the sliding glass windows. She took one look at Kathleen and her eyes widened before she started shouting out commands with the authority of a commanding officer.

“I need an orderly, stat!”

Like magic, a harried-looking orderly appeared with a wheelchair.

“Get this woman up to OB.” The nurse tossed Jack a dirty look as if
he
had been the one stalling. “Why didn’t you say she was so far along?”

Jack clenched his jaw and swallowed his response, concentrating instead on getting Kathleen out of the waiting room chair and into the wheelchair. Kathleen grabbed on to him and gripped his hand hard enough to crush a few of the smaller bones. He winced when he realized how much pain she must have been in to produce that level of strength.

She was forced to break the contact when they turned the corner. The orderly pushed ahead toward the elevators, where they all crammed in. The muted Muzak piped into the car was at odds with Kathleen’s heavy breathing and sense of urgency.

“I love you, baby,” he said, brushing a kiss across Kathleen’s forehead.

“I love you, too,” she panted, “but I also kind of hate you right now.”

Jack chuckled with nervous anticipation. She didn’t mean it. He hoped.

The moment the doors opened on the fourth floor, the orderly took off like a shot. A short, motherly-looking nurse in scrubs appeared out of nowhere and kept them from following.

“I’m sorry,” she told them, “but no children are allowed in the birthing rooms. If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to the waiting room.”

“But what about Mom?” Jake was looking down the hallway where Kathleen disappeared from sight.

“Your mom is going to be pretty busy for a while, and she’ll want to know you’re safe and comfortable. We’ll take good care of her, I promise.”

Jack nodded, thankful that this nurse was far more pleasant than the Guardian of the ER. He couldn’t help but be disappointed, though. He’d wanted to be there for the birth of his third child, but he couldn’t leave the boys.

They settled into the waiting room, more than half-filled with similarly anxious fathers-, siblings, and grandparents-to-be.

“Why did Mommy say she hates you?” Kane asked as Jack handed him a Big Machines coloring book. The older woman across from them smirked; the guy to the left of him chuckled and tried to cover it up with a cough.

“Having a baby can hurt a lot, and hurting a lot can make people say things they don’t really mean.”

“But why is she mad at
you
?” Jake asked.

Kane shot him a suffering look. “Because Dad’s the one who put the baby in her, stupid.”

“I’m not stupid!” Jake protested, then turned to Jack. “How did you do that, Dad?”

Jack heard a few more chuckles. “Oh, look. A combine. Are you going to color it green for John Deere or red for Case?”

Thankfully, the distraction worked. Someday he was going to have a talk with his boys about the birds and bees, but it wasn’t going to be today. He wondered vaguely how Kane had known as much as he had. Kathleen must have given him the pre-school Cliff Notes version without going into specifics.

It was less than an hour later when a man in blue scrubs entered the packed waiting room and called his name.

“Mr. Callaghan?”

Jack stood and looked into the twinkling brown eyes of a man he didn’t know. By the looks of the surgical scrubs and cap he wore, he was a doctor, but not one Jack was familiar with. He would have remembered this guy. Young. Chiseled features. Too damn pretty. Everything about him rubbed Jack the wrong way.

“Here.”

“Congratulations, Mr. Callaghan,” the guy said with a smile worthy of toothpaste commercial. “You have a son.”