Forever Mine: Callaghan Brothers, Book 9(39)
Chapter Fifteen
The morning dawned cold and gray, which seemed oddly appropriate given what awaited them downstairs. More snow was expected, but only a few inches in the higher elevations and flurries for everyone else.
They made love again. Tenderly, more gently than the night before. They spoke very little, but words weren’t really necessary, not when their hearts and souls and bodies were able to speak so eloquently.
Jack couldn’t put his finger on it, but something had changed between them. Something irrevocable that had sealed the bond between them, drawn them even closer together.
They stayed in bed as long as they could, but eventually they had to get up and take care of business. The highlight of his morning (after the wake-up sex, of course) was the sponge bath Kathleen lavished on him in the ancient claw-foot tub. Jack teased that with pampering like that, he wouldn’t mind getting shot more often.
Kathleen didn’t think that was nearly as funny as he did.
Sheriff McFlannigan arrived as they were finishing off the last of the semi-stale English muffins and jam. Over a pot of freshly percolated coffee, he brought them up to date. Official charges had been filed against Jimmy Foster, and once released from the hospital, he would be headed straight to jail.
“What about bail?” Kathleen asked.
The sheriff laughed. “I doubt Judge Farrow will be keen on setting bail. This isn’t the first time Jimmy’s done something stupid. The reason he and Sheila left Pine Ridge in the first place was because Jimmy got drunk one night and plowed his car into the judge’s brand new Cadillac.”
He paused and took a sip of his coffee. “But I will warn you. Jimmy’s been shooting his mouth off to anyone that will listen that he’s going to sue the two of you.”
“Sue us?” Jack asked, incredulous. “For what?”
“Use of excessive force. He claims you disabled him.”
“Disabled my arse,” Kathleen said vehemently. “It was a clean shot.”
“And clearly self-defense,” Jack added.
“I know. Not even the public defender will listen to his shite. Jimmy doesn’t have a leg to stand on –—no pun intended. I just wanted you to know in case you hear anything. Now,” he said, pulling the small black Instamatic camera from his pocket. “Let’s get some pictures, then I’ll leave you good folks be.”
Jack and Kathleen accompanied him into the public area first. While Jack pointed out damages, Kathleen took notes, both for the case against Foster and for the insurance company.
The place looked even worse in the daylight. Jack’s spirits fell when he saw the damage Foster had caused in his drunken rage. By noon, the sheriff had used an entire roll of film, and took his leave, promising to drop the film off at the new one-hour Photo Mart in town.
Even though Jack had accepted the fact that he’d made a mistake in buying the bar, it was still going to be hard to get rid of the place. The pub hadn’t been his for very long, but he was already attached to it. In the weeks before their wedding, he’d been working his ass off to clean it up and surprise Kathleen.
It had been a surprise, all right. Just not the kind he’d hoped for.
He’d meant what he’d said to her the night before. He loved Kathleen, and making her happy was his first priority from here on out. If selling the bar and doing something else would accomplish that, so be it. He’d already lost too many years with his croie, and he wasn’t about to waste another day on things that, in the end, didn’t really matter.
Last night’s break-in had driven that point home. Despite his exhaustion, images of “what ifs” had plagued his few, brief periods of sleep. What if he hadn’t come back when he had? What if that low-life bastard had hurt Kathleen?
The pub and everything in it was replaceable. His croie was not.
Jack looked over to where Kathleen was quietly sweeping the bar room. Every now and then she’d pause and look around, then look at him, her expression unreadable, before starting up again. He couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking, then realized he probably didn’t want to know.
For his part, he was supposed to be taking an inventory of everything that had been broken or damaged. That didn’t take long at all. Everything that had been on the shelves, from the finest Irish whiskey to the cheapest rum, was now nothing but a sea of broken glass and spirits on the bar room floor.
The store room was a different story. It would take hours to go through everything and make a list of what survived Foster’s rampage and what didn’t, but Jack didn’t dare tempt her wrath. Kathleen had expressly forbidden him from doing anything that would involve using his injured shoulder, and that, she told him, included moving crates and kegs. Before he’d been able to argue the point, she called her brother-in-law, Seamus, to come over later and help with the heavy lifting. Jack would be damned if he’d sit idly by and let another man clean up his mess, but he didn’t tell her that. With any luck, Erin would come along too, and keep Kathleen occupied elsewhere while he and Seamus took care of business in the storage room.
It wasn’t long after the sheriff left Jack heard the scrape of a snow shovel outside the front entrance. He and Kathleen shared a look, then went over and opened the door to find Brian O’Connell clearing the sidewalk.
“Heard what happened,” Brian said by way of greeting.