Forever Mine: Callaghan Brothers, Book 9

by Abbie Zanders

  “So much fuss,” she wheezed. “A couple of days rest and I’ll be fine.”

  At two-twenty a.m., Kathleen Siobhan O’Leary Callaghan turned to her husband, and with her last breath, whispered, “I love you, always.”

  And in the next moment, Jack Callaghan had lost his heart.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  It was like a bad dream; the worst of nightmares. Machines screeching and blaring alarms, a rush of doctors and nurses who tried so valiantly to bring her back. Jack watched it all, his heart refusing to believe what his eyes saw. He was tempted to claw them out for their betrayal, for showing him the impossible.

  Kathleen couldn’t be gone. She was only forty years old. His wife. The mother of his seven children.

  His croie.

  The doctors, the nurses, the priest, they all said the same thing. But they were liars, all of them. Evil, lying, rotten bastards. Even Kathleen’s family had turned against him, trying to make him believe that Kathleen could leave him so easily.

  Hospital security was no match for a man of Jack Callaghan’s skills. He stood over her, refusing to allow any of them near her. She was his. His to protect. His to care for. They wanted her, wanted to take her away, but they couldn’t have her.

  He held her in his arms, willing her heart to borrow strength from his. Kissed her lips, lips that were far too cold, pushing breath into her damaged lungs.

  Because she couldn’t be gone.

  The details of the rest of that night were sketchy. From what they’d told him later, they’d had to sedate him and physically remove him from Kathleen’s room after several hours. He vaguely remembered screaming at Father Murphy, cursing him to Hell for daring to suggest Kathleen was with God now. God couldn’t have her, because she was his.

  All of his life he’d never lost his faith. Had never questioned Him or his purpose, even when he was a prisoner of war. Not when the skin had been flayed from his back; not when small, sharp sticks had demonstrated the true meaning of excruciating over and over again. None of that compared to this.

  No beneficent God could command such a thing as this.

  He woke up a full twenty hours later in Brian’s house. At first he was disoriented, but when he saw Brian and Charlie talking in hushed tones, it all came back to him. It was then he knew the horrific nightmares had been true.

  They didn’t bother trying to console him. They must have known how impossible a task that would have been -—especially Brian, who had lost his wife less than a year earlier. However, when Jack, overcome by the crushing grief, went for the loaded gun Brian kept on the top shelf in the kitchen, they did remind him that he had seven grieving, scared boys who had just lost their mother.

  Jack didn’t know how he would do it. He didn’t know how he was going to make it through another minute, let alone face his boys. He’d failed them, failed them all.

  That was the first time he heard Kathleen’s voice in his head. “Aye, you will do this, mo croie beloved. You will do this for me.”

  He didn’t know how he did it, but he did. He went home to his sons, her boys, and somehow, they made it through the next few days. He did what he needed to do, little more than a semi-functional zombie.

  He spoke with the priest. Erin took care of her clothes. The funeral home director, a friend of his father’s, took care of everything else. Jack just signed whatever they told him to.

  The days were dark and cold, filled with a thousand times more pain and suffering than anything he’d ever experienced. Then, the thought of seeing Kathleen again was the only thing that got him through. That same desire was a temptation he fought every minute of every day. His boys were his strength, the only reason he continued to draw breath. That, and the haunting whispers and warnings of his croie, echoing in his heart as well as his mind: “If you chose that path, Jack, then I will be forever lost.”

  So he endured. One agonizing moment at a time. The pain never went away, but he learned to live with it. He focused on their boys and did the best he could.

  Days became weeks. Weeks became months. Months became years.

  It was Kathleen who eventually brought him back to his faith, because it went hand in hand with the belief that he would see her again.

  One by one he saw their sons follow in his footsteps. Stood proudly as each one enlisted and became a SEAL. Watched as they followed their natural talents and became what they were destined to be. And finally, as their commitments were satisfied, accepted them into what had become the unofficial family “business.”

  Kathleen was there for all of it, in his heart and theirs, filled with the same pride and love for them she’d always had. He didn’t worry so much about them, knowing their mother was keeping a special eye on them.

  Now they were grown men with families of their own.

  But through it all, he never forgot what she’d said to him that night.

  October 2015

  Pine Ridge

  “You lied, Kathleen,” Jack whispered into the empty room.

  “I didn’t lie to you, Jack. Not intentionally.”

  Jack didn’t need to open his eyes to see her. Happier visions of Kathleen filled his mind, wiping away the image of her on that hospital bed. Kathleen at eighteen, approaching him at that block party so many years ago. Looking lovingly into his eyes at their wedding. Catching him staring at her while reading bedtime stories to the boys.

  They’d had so little time together, but the time they did have were still the best years of his life. What they’d lacked in quantity, they’d had in quality.

  “You said you’d be fine. You weren’t.” It was only afterward that he’d realized how wrong he’d been in thinking that pneumonia was no longer a deadly killer. That in viral form, antibiotics were useless against it. That sometimes, modern medicine was no more effective than the bloodletting treatments of two hundred years ago.

  “No,” she agreed. “I wasn’t.”

  “You should have taken better care of yourself. I should have taken better care of you.” The familiar ache in his chest flared, slicing deep along his still-healing wounds, twenty-five years later. All of the ‘should haves’ and ‘what-ifs’ billowed beneath the wires holding his breastbone together.

  “Don’t do this, Jack.” He felt her touch on his cheek, a feather light echo of what it had once been.

  But he was already too far along the path to turn back. Hearing her, being so damn close to seeing her again brought it all to the surface again. “I shouldn’t have gone on the mission. I should have stayed home and helped with the boys. Helped you.”

  Kathleen shook her head. “It was my time. You needed to save Brian.”

  Jack grunted derisively. “Are you telling me that you weren’t needed? That’s why you were taken away? Goddamn it, Kathleen! I needed you. Your boys needed you.”

  “There’s a reason for everything. Every life is a critical link in a chain of events that you can’t begin to comprehend.”

  “You’re right, I don’t understand at all. Because it makes no fucking sense.”

  “Death is a part of life, Jack. There is no getting around that.”

  “No,” he reluctantly agreed, “but why you? Why not me?” He’d come close to death so many times, been in situations where death was more likely than survival, and yet he’d been spared.

  “Because you weren’t finished with what you had to do. You and the boys became the men you were meant to be. Fine, honorable men who have touched innumerable lives.”

  “And what?” he scoffed, rubbing his chest as the pressure continued to build. “You’re saying that wouldn’t have happened if you’d been here? Bullshite.”

  Rather than be upset with him, she smiled at him, that same indulgent smile she had for him whenever he was being obstinate. “I have always been with you, you know that. Have faith, Jack. It will all make sense someday. And be patient.”

  Be patient. He’d been patient long enough and he told her so. He was ready, so ready.


  “Now is the perfect time. The boys are grown, with croies and children of their own. They no longer need me.”

  “Aye, they do, even if they don’t realize it.”

  “For what? They see me as an old man, someone who needs coddling.”

  She laughed softly. “No, Jack, they don’t. Until recently, you’ve been invincible in their eyes. Realizing you’re not has been a wake-up call, and that’s a scary thing for them. They might be grown men, but you are, and always will be, their father.”

  There was some logic to that, he supposed, but it didn’t change the way he felt. The pressure in his chest continued to build until he could no longer draw a full breath; rather than fight it, he welcomed it.

  “I miss you, Kathleen. I want to be with you again.”

  “You will be,” she promised. “But not yet.”

  “When?”

  “Soon.”

  “How soon?”

  “Soon.” She brushed a kiss across his forehead and laid her hand upon his chest until the pain subsided into the familiar, empty ache. “I love you, mo croie beloved. And I’m waiting for you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  He exhaled, the oppressive weight on his chest now gone. It seemed he would be sticking around for a bit longer, after all. “Tell me, Kathleen. Will we be able to make love again?” he asked wistfully.

  She gave him a wicked smile that put his healing heart to the test. “Why do you think they call it Heaven? Trust me, Jack. Only a little while longer, and then you and I will have the rest of eternity together.”

  The rest of eternity sounded like a good start.

  “Promise?”

  “Yes, absolutely. And until then, I am always in your heart, as you are in mine.”

  Kathleen’s image faded, but Jack didn’t feel quite as lonely as he had earlier. They’d had the same conversation so many times over the years, but this time was different. This time he had been so close...

  But hell, he was a sixty-five year old man with a bum ticker. It couldn’t be too much longer. And for the chance to hold Kathleen in his arms again, he could withstand anything.

  Jack made his way back down to the kitchen.

  “You okay, Dad?” Taryn asked cautiously.

  “Aye.” He was. He’d learned to be. But if he was going to be sticking around for a while longer, he preferred to do it where he felt closest to his wife.

  “And I’m ready to come home.”

  Taryn grinned and gave him an exuberant (yet gentle) hug. “It’s about fucking time,” she sniffed into his shirt, making him laugh.

  “Grandpa!” Riley exclaimed a few days later when she and Patrick, Ian’s oldest boy, blasted through the door like mini-tornadoes. She took one look at her uncles trying to navigate the heat/massage recliner up the narrow staircase (much to Michael’s disappointment). “Does this mean you’re moving back home now?”

  Home. The Pub did feel like home. It had from the first night he’d brought his new bride here. So much had changed since then, but not that.

  This was where he and Kathleen had raised seven sons. She might have moved on to the next phase of the journey, but she’d left huge parts of herself behind, too.

  In Kane’s inner strength and his wizardry with finance.

  In Jake’s leadership, and the way he had of being able to mediate and talk sense into even the most stubborn among them.

  In Michael’s caring and compassionate heart.

  In Ian’s mischief.

  In Sean’s stubbornness.

  In Shane’s empathy and awareness of others.

  In Kieran’s innate tendency to put the needs of others before his own.

  Fine men, all of them, because their mother had been an extraordinary woman. As Kathleen continued to live in his heart, mind, and soul, so she lived on in her sons, and now her grandchildren as well. Until he could be with her again, it would be enough.

  And, according to Kathleen, he was still needed here. For what, he didn’t know, but whatever it was, he knew she would be right there with him until it was time to go.

  In the meantime, he wasn’t going to let her -—or any of them -—down.

  “Aye, I am,” he smiled.

  “Awesome!” Riley squealed, dropping her backpack and climbing up on the bench seat beside him. “Does that mean you’ll help me with my homework again?” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Mom tries, but somebody’s always interrupting.” She cast a scowl towards her three-year-old brother, Rory, who grinned, showcasing the half-eaten animal crackers in his mouth. At the same time, her baby brother, Daniel, let out an ear-piercing wail from his swing.

  “Me, too, Grandpa,” chimed in Patrick, refusing to be ignored. Just as Ian had done when he was that age, the boy made a beeline for the refrigerator. He grabbed a carton of milk and plate of pre-made snacks Taryn always had prepared for them after school. “Ryan said you wouldn’t, ‘cause you were living with him now, but I knew you’d be back.”

  His little sister Katie climbed up on the bench seat beside him and grabbed the cheese stick right out of his hand. “He’s just jealous,” she said with the wisdom of a woman older than her four, almost five years.

  It was humbling, the way they looked at him like that, with a mixture of innocence, love, and hope. As much as he missed Kathleen, he was glad he had this time with them. With all of his grandchildren. Glad that he could be a part of their lives, and they were still young enough to want him in theirs.

  “Aye, I will. But first, I need to talk to your Das and uncles. Have your snacks, and then we’ll get to work.”

  Taryn smiled in approval. Clever lass.

  Jack made his way up the stairs, the task easier with every passing day, to have a talk with his sons. One that was long overdue.

  He found Ian lounging in his chair, “testing” it out to make sure everything worked after the move. Shane was looking at the framed pictures. Jake was sitting in the old recliner, twisting the cap off a bottle of water while Sean fiddled with the TV. Only Kieran and Kane were absent.

  “Ian, bring in that fancy tablet of yours and set up a video call with Kane and Kieran.”

  Ian sat up as the others shot questioning glances his way. “What’s up, Dad?”

  “Just do it.”

  Exchanging looks with the others, Ian got up and did as he asked. When everyone was present, Jack said, “I know you all have things to do, so I’ll make this quick. Like it or not, I am still the patriarch of this clan. That means that you will keep me informed of what is going on in this family, including your missions. You will cease coddling me like a sickly old man who’s got one foot in the grave. Yes, I had a heart attack. I’ve recovered. Get over it. Any questions?”

  They stared at him in silence for several long minutes. Michael smiled. Then Sean. Then Ian, Jake, and Shane.

  “In that case,” Kieran said over the tablet screen, “I’ll expect you down at BodyWorks at 0600 hours tomorrow morning.”

  Jack grunted an affirmation and nodded.

  “About fucking time,” Kane muttered, but a smile ghosted his lips. “We’ve got a situation that’s come up, and we’re going to need your expertise on this one. We’re heading into town tomorrow. We’ll discuss it then.” His video feed faded as he broke the connection.

  “Welcome back, Dad,” Jake said. “Feel up to tending tonight?”

  “Aye. But I have some homework to be helping with first.”

  “You see,” Kathleen’s voice said as he walked back down the stairs to his waiting grandchildren, “they do need you. They were just waiting for you to catch up.”

  “Aye,” he smiled to himself. The woman always had been one step ahead of him. And eventually, he’d catch up to her, too.

  Some Personal Notes

  Thank you SO MUCH for taking this incredible journey with me. For adopting the Callaghans and including them in your lives.

  I know many of you wanted Jack to find love again. You wrote letters, ema
ils, messaged me, even drafted out possible love interests and plot twists to give me a gentle nudge. I was (and continue to be) truly moved that you would care about Jack so much.

  Believe me, I agonized over this more than once. But when I started this series, it was with one underlying premise: there can only be one croie in a Callaghan man’s lifetime. For Jack it was, and always will be, Kathleen.

  I suppose I could have written him a new love interest. Not another croie, but someone who loved him and cared for him. I even tried, several times. But each time, I hit a dead end, and after a while I came to realize that it was because Jack didn’t want that.

  Some of you are rolling your eyes, I know. I’m the author, right? I can make my characters do whatever I want. Technically, that’s true. But it wouldn’t be right. It’s hard to explain why without sounding like a nutcase, but I spend so much time with these characters that they almost become real, 3-dimensional people in my mind. If I listen carefully enough, I can hear their thoughts, see their reactions. Every time I attempt to force them into doing something that isn’t “natural” for them, I hit major writer’s block.

  And maybe, just maybe, there’s a part of me that believes in a love so true, so pure, that nothing can ever replace it.

  So there you go. Jack’s happy with the way his story came out. Hopefully you are, too.

  This story, like all the others before it, is fiction. These people and places exist only in my imagination and the imaginations of you, the reader. But inevitably, I draw upon my own life experiences to shape what happens, and in Forever Mine, I’ve included mention of some real events, too.

  The Vietnam War: Some of the places and battles referenced in this story are real; however, not everything is historically accurate in terms of U.S. involvement, units, movements, and engagements. I created scenes for the purpose of Jack’s story.

  Hurricane Agnes: The 1972 Hurricane Agnes flood was a real event. I know, I lived through it. I was only seven years old at the time, but I still remember scrambling up the nearby culm (anthracite coal dust) bank with my dad, looking down into the valley where the local shopping center was with a pair of binoculars. I could see the occasional church steeple poking up out of the fast-running, muddy waters, and the tops of some trees, but that’s about all.