Forever Mine: Callaghan Brothers, Book 9(60)

“And then what? Come back and pretend everything is normal?”

“Yes! It’s just a job, Jack. A privately contracted, well-paying, occasional job. We do it, we get paid; we come back to our families and resume our normal, daily lives.”

Jack shook his head, unconvinced. “Haven’t you learned anything? It can’t be that easy. They just want to use you to do their dirty work.”

Brian stood taller and squared his shoulders. “Yeah, maybe. But this time, it will be on my terms, not theirs.”

Brian lifted the dustpan and emptied it into the trash, then grabbed his jacket. He reached for the door, then paused. “I’m going to do this, Jack, with or without you.”

“Without,” Jack said firmly.

“Fair enough. I won’t be in for the next few nights. Declan’s boys are willing to pick up my shifts. I’ll see you when I get back.”

With those words, Brian walked out. A gust of frigid wind carried a few snowflakes inside. Jack slammed the side of his fist down on the bar, offering up a quick prayer that Brian was right and he would see him again soon.

Brian did return a week later, wearing a brand new leather jacket and proudly showing off the delicate gold watch he was going to give Adonia for Christmas. He didn’t offer any specifics about where he’d been or what he’d done to earn the money, and Jack didn’t ask. He was simply glad to have his friend back, unharmed and in better spirits.

Jack offered up his official silent prayer of thanks for his friend’s safe return during Christmas Eve Mass, along with several more for the blessings of his wife and sons. They sat with hundreds of others in St. Patrick’s as Father Murphy recounted the story of the Christ child’s birth. The boys, scrubbed clean and looking downright cherubic in their holiday outfits, sat relatively still between him and Kathleen. In his peripheral vision, he noticed Kathleen fidgeting.

He caught her gaze and lifted an eyebrow in question. She discreetly wrinkled her nose, reminding him of how the seasonal incense made her sneeze. Sure enough, within minutes, she was trying (unsuccessfully) to stem the succession of sneezes. Some women did so delicately, with only a slight “choo” sound to indicate they’d sneezed at all. Not Kathleen. When she sneezed, it was a full-bodied, window-rattling event. Even Father Murphy paused and wished a blessing upon her, the sentiment echoed among a good portion of the congregation.

“You okay?” he asked on the drive home.

“Yeah,” she exhaled, rubbing her belly. “Just a backache.”

He felt for her. The hardwood pews were uncomfortable on the best of days, but they had to be even more so for her, pregnant as she was.

“How about a massage when we get home?”

“You are the best husband ever.”

He chuckled, glad she thought so. By the time he carried in the sleeping boys to their beds, however, she was fast asleep. His promised massage would have to wait.

Leaving her to rest, Jack crept into the living room. He pulled out the hidden, wrapped packages and put them under the tree. He was surprised by how many there were. Clearly Kathleen’s year-long efforts had paid off; rather than scramble for presents right before the holidays, she picked up things as she saw them on sale throughout the year and set them aside.

When that was finished, he sat down with his toolbox and assembled the last remaining items, munching from the plate of homemade cookies and drinking the milk the kids had left for Santa.

It was much later when he finally crawled into bed beside Kathleen. “I’ll be there in a minute,” she mumbled sleepily.

“No worries. All taken care of,” he told her.

“Best. Husband. Ever.”

Jack smiled again and spooned against her back, his arm curling protectively beneath the babies resting there. Feeling incredibly blessed, he joined her in much-needed slumber.

It seemed as if only mere minutes had passed before their bedroom door flew open and banged against the wall with great force. “Merry Christmas!” Ian yelled, squirming to get out of Kane’s strong-armed hold.

Jack cracked open an eyelid as his boys launched themselves onto the bed. Reflexively, he turned his body to protect Kathleen from the onslaught, but her side of the bed was empty. It wasn’t unusual; by the sixth month she often got up to use the bathroom every couple of hours or so.

“Merry Christmas!” Kathleen said, coming out of the bathroom, looking as if she’d had a rough night. Dark circles adorned her eyes; she looked paler than usual. She beamed at her boys, but Jack could see the effort it took to smile.

A sense of unease crept over him, but he resisted the urge to ask again. If there was a problem, he trusted that she would tell him. Eventually.

“Brush your teeth and wash your faces,” Kathleen commanded, “and your father and I will be out in a minute.”

A chorus of “Aw, Mom,” made her laugh. “Go on, now. And no peeking till we get out there.”

“Kathleen?” he asked the moment they were out of ear shot, his resolve to wait already gone. “What’s wrong? Is your back bothering you again?”

“Yes, but it’s to be expected. I feel like I’ve doubled in size over the past month.”

He stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, cradling her belly as he place a kiss against her temple. “I still owe you a massage.”