Forever Mine: Callaghan Brothers, Book 9(22)

“I’ve been a poor steward,” Danny lamented, his eyes suspiciously shiny, “I’ve let her go te pot. Were it not for the likes of them -—” he swept this arthritic fingers toward the bar “ -— and good men like you and your Da, I would have been out of business years ago.”

Again, Jack said nothing. He didn’t think Danny really expected him to.

“But my time here is done. I’ve run out of money and the bastards are going to take her right out from under me if I don’t pay the taxes due.”

“How much?”

Danny told him, and Jack nodded. It was a substantial sum.

“The only way I’ll come into that kind of money is if I manage to die in time and my life insurance pays out. Fat lot of good it will do me then, eh?” he chuckled without mirth. “I’ve got no sons to pass her on to, and I’ll not be handing her over to my no-good sons-in-law.”

The old man scowled as he stared into his drink. It was no secret that Danny didn’t get along well with his daughters; their husbands, even less. Jack stared into his own drink, waiting for the inevitable. In his mind, he began assembling a mental list of the places where he might apply for a job. He didn’t have a college education, but he was a hard worker, and knew enough people to find something. In the meantime, he had his parents’ house and a tidy nest egg he’d managed to build with his service pay.

“I want you to buy her, young Jack.”

Jack’s head snapped up. “Excuse me, sir?”

“I want you to buy the bar. You’ve got roots in this town, lad. Good, strong Irish roots. You are about to be married, and need to make your own way. Buy this place for the taxes due, and you’ll have an established business and enough room to breed all the little ones you want.”

Speechless—– for an entirely different reason this time—– Jack poured himself another shot and tossed it back. Working in a bar was one thing, but owning one?

“Just think about it, Jack. ‘Tis all I ask.”

Reeling from the unexpected request, Jack found himself nodding. “I’ll think about it, sir.”

“Aye, that’s a good lad. But don’t take too long. Those damn bankers are all but crawling up my arse, wanting te get their grubby hands on her.”

Hours later, Jack lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. It was a crazy idea, and yet one he couldn’t stop thinking about. Owning his own place, running his own business was perfect for him. After spending seven years in the service, he was loathe to ever take orders from anyone else again.

What would Kathleen think? By the time he’d finished his shift, it had been too late to call, though he’d been sorely tempted. She had grown up in a place of public business. O’Leary’s was a diner, though, and a pub wasn’t exactly the finest place to raise a family.

But they could class it up. He could picture it now, him and Kathleen, working together to restore the place to its former glory, turn it into a staple of the community. It would still be a bar, sure, but the welcoming, respectable kind. One where a man would feel comfortable bringing his wife for a nightcap after the movies. Or where a bunch of local boys could bond over a friendly game of pool or Monday Night Football.

Like a seed, the idea took root in his gut and began to grow.

He didn’t have that kind of money laying around though. He’d have to take out a substantial loan using the house as collateral, or sell his parents’ house outright. That wasn’t such a bad thing. There were too many memories, too many ghosts that haunted him when he lay here in the dark, alone, his restless mind unable to find peace. When he closed his eyes, he could still hear his father walking by his room before dawn, off to his job at the mill. Or scent the heavenly aroma of the freshly baked bread and rolls his mother used to make. Or hear Fitz climbing in through his bedroom window, excited because he’d somehow managed to get his hands on the latest copy of Penthouse.

Maybe it was time to move on. The house was in good shape. If he got a decent price for it, he’d be able to pay off the tax debt on the bar and still have a little left over to make Finnegan’s Pub livable, if not pristine. He was handy enough that he could do most of the repairs himself. Plus he knew enough people that would be willing to help him with the rest for free drinks and a welcoming place to go.

The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. He and Kathleen could make a fresh start, make the place their own. Kathleen was good with numbers; she’d earned her degree in Accounting while he was overseas, often writing about how she found peace in the exactness of it. She could handle the business side of things and he’d run the bar. They could live on the second and third floors, which would be damned convenient.

It felt right. It would be a lot of hard work and long hours, but it would be worth it. Jack made up his mind. He was going to do it. He was going to sell the house, buy the bar, and begin carving out a new life for him and Kathleen, one they could be proud of.

He rolled over and closed his eyes. For the first time in a long time, Jack felt a glimmer of hope for their future.

The next day, Jack went into town and met with a realtor, then walked, whistling, into Finnegan’s to tell Danny the good news.





Chapter Ten


September 2015

Pine Ridge

“You’re in a good mood this morning. Pleasant dreams?”