A CALLAHAN CHRISTMAS MIRACLE

by Tina Leonard

  She glared at him. “You just let my nephew walk into a planned ambush?”

  He appeared downcast. “Fiona, I tried to warn Galen. I was about to—”

  “Get out. Get out! Go on!” She flapped her hands at him as if he was mentally incapable of understanding her words. “Get out before I do something you’ll regret!”

  He sighed. “Fiona, I have to stay!”

  She looked through the window, seeing Galen surrounded. “Look, you traitor. I’m going to pick up the phone and I’m going to make a call. You’re not going to stop me. This is your last chance to turn away from whatever you’ve been talked into.” She poked a finger into his chest to emphasize her every word. “And then you’re going to fire that rifle out that window and scatter that crowd, while your brain still has any concept of honor left in it.”

  She began dialing.

  “Fiona, I can’t let you—”

  She slapped his hand when he reached for her cell phone. “Try that again and you’ll draw back a nub.” She looked at her phone curiously. “I don’t have cell service.”

  Storm didn’t seem surprised. Fiona put her phone back in her purse. “So what’s the game?”

  “I don’t know. They didn’t tell me anything. All I know is that they’re prepared to burn this place to the ground if I don’t do what they’re asking.”

  “So you’re protecting us?”

  He sat down on the leather sofa, the gun across his lap, not even bothering to point it at her. Fiona didn’t figure he would put up much of a fight if she decided to bolt for the door. His heart just didn’t seem to be in it.

  Sudden gunfire sent her running to the window. “That’ll be my nephews,” she said with satisfaction, “and my niece, no doubt, and probably Burke. You better pick the winning team, Storm. We Callahans fight to win.”

  “I know,” he said. “Why do you think I agreed to keep you pinned down, Fiona? Your family doesn’t really need your help.” He sighed again, clearly hating every aspect of his role in the attack. “Try your phone once more. I thought the sheriff would be here by now.”

  “Still dead. They’ve done something to the signals.” She stared him down. “Galen and the others will run them off. You and I will be on bad terms for a long time.”

  “I know.”

  “You okay, Fiona?” Rose asked, walking into the den and stopping at the sight of Storm with a gun across his lap. “What’s going on?”

  “Not much,” Fiona snapped. “Go away, Rose.”

  “The guys are shooting....” She looked at Storm again. “Hand me that rifle.”

  “I can’t,” he replied.

  “Fiona, is this man holding you hostage while those bandits out there try to take over the ranch?” She glanced out the window, satisfied that Galen had everything under control. But she wasn’t one bit happy about the situation. “Give me the gun, Storm.”

  “If I give it to you, they might come in and say I wasn’t doing my job. They’ll want to know that I was armed, and intimidated Fiona properly.”

  “You don’t know Fiona very well.” Rose looked at her annoyed friend. “They’re losing out there, Storm. Hand me the rifle and I’ll beat you with it, and you can convince them that you did your job.”

  “Rose!” Fiona said. “You’re pregnant!”

  “That doesn’t mean I can’t shoot him.” Rose glared at their neighbor. “And to think I actually like your niece! What do you think Somer will say when she finds out you’re one of them!”

  Storm hung his head. “I had to do it. They threatened to burn the place down if I didn’t corral the old lady. I was supposed to tie her up and put her—”

  “Old lady?” Fiona glared. “Watch your words or I’ll peg you with my boot!”

  Rose grabbed the gun out of Storm’s hands. “Shame on you! I don’t care what your excuse is!”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “This is exactly why I want to sell out to Galen. There are too many dark undercurrents around. I want to live my life quietly and raise donkeys or chickens. Something more peaceful than being stuck between you guys and them.”

  “Who is ‘them,’ exactly?” Rose asked. “You need to tell me everything you know, if you’re sincere about being with us.”

  “I am with you. I warned you, didn’t I? Thought I was doing the best thing by being here with Fiona. I was afraid of what would happen if someone else was assigned to corral her.”

  “You should be very afraid!” Fiona snapped. “I’ll never be kidnapped again, I can promise you that.” She went into the kitchen, grumbling under her breath.

  “What do we need to do so you don’t get in trouble with them?” Rose asked.

  “Wolf’s not going to believe that I couldn’t handle one little old lady.”

  Rose smiled. “You’re forgetting what Fiona did to Wolf’s lair in Montana.”

  “True, but—” Storm’s eyes rolled back in his head and he fell to the ground. Fiona stood behind him with a frying pan.

  “Our double-agent neighbor will sleep like a baby now,” she said with satisfaction. “He never heard me coming up behind him. I learned something from Running Bear, after all.”

  Rose stared with horror at the big man prone on the floor. “Fiona! What if you’ve killed him?”

  “I barely tapped him. Goodness, the boys I raised in this place withstood a lot more than that.” She bent down, grabbed his ankles. “Help me drag him down the stairs to the basement.”

  “The basement!” Rose shook her head. “No, Fiona, we can’t drag him anywhere.” She wasn’t sure what to do with Galen’s feisty little aunt. Fiona seemed to be working from her own script, and Rose wanted no part of dragging the injured man down the stairs. Galen wouldn’t approve of that plan, she felt certain.

  Right on cue, almost as if she’d conjured him, Galen appeared in the doorway, disheveled, a little ragged from fighting. He had a bruise on his cheek and his knuckles looked a bit worse for wear, and Rose thought he’d never looked more handsome.

  She flew into his arms. He hugged her, kissed the top of her head.

  “Your work or Fiona’s?” he asked, glancing down at Storm.

  “We did it together,” Rose said, not wanting to get the older woman in trouble. She suspected by the twinkle in Galen’s eyes that he wasn’t fooled, particularly as Fiona still held the frying pan.

  “All right.” Galen bent down to check out the big man, who let out a small groan. “Storm?”

  “Fiona, you might want to put that away,” Rose said, pointing to the frying pan. “Before Storm wakes up and all chance of neighborly relations are lost forever. Not to mention Lu’s not going to be too pleased if she discovers you beaned her man.”

  “Oh, right. Of course.” Fiona looked down at Storm. “I have something to say to Wolf, anyway.”

  She headed to the front door. With a frantic glance at Galen, Rose followed her. “I’ll cover your aunt. You take care of your neighbor, Galen.”

  “Hang on.” He caught up with her in fast strides. “Storm can take care of himself.”

  They followed Fiona as she approached Wolf. His minions had disappeared, likely heading back to whatever hole they’d come from.

  “You go back,” Galen told Rose. “This is too dangerous.”

  She bristled. “Too dangerous for what?”

  “For you.” He stopped her in her tracks and took her hands in his. “I want my bride to take my children back inside, where it’s safer.”

  “You may have noticed we weren’t that much safer there, Galen,” Rose pointed out hotly.

  “Go,” he said, and her ire spiked. She glanced toward Fiona, who by this time was berating Wolf, no doubt for all his past sins, including kidnapping her last year and setting her neighbor on her.

  “Come on,
Galen! She might get kidnapped again. That was Wolf’s sole goal at one time, to pick off a Callahan woman. And Fiona’s the big cheese.”

  He held her back. “Go home.”

  She caught her breath. Glared at him, to no avail. “All right.” Turning around, she marched back to the house, her pride stung.

  “Hi,” Storm said, moving to a sitting position as she walked into the den. “Whoa. Have I ever got a headache.”

  Rose sighed. “Let me see your eyes.”

  She knelt down to look in his eyes. Checked the lump Fiona’s pan had left on his head. “Thank goodness you’re tough.”

  “Yeah.” Storm rubbed his head. “What happened?”

  “You tell me.”

  “One second I was here on Wolf’s orders—which I wanted no part of, but he threatened Fiona, and I figured I was better on the inside than one of his henchmen. And the next thing I knew I was waking up, staring at the ceiling.” He gingerly felt his head. “Got any aspirin?”

  “Let’s get you up on this sofa. I’ll fetch you a bag of frozen peas to put on that. And I may call the doctor to come out, just in case.”

  Storm allowed her to help him to the sofa. “I don’t need to lie down. I’m fine.” He brightened. “Of course, I’d be better if I could have some of Fiona’s cookies, and maybe some sweet tea.”

  “Medicine of the gods. I’ll be right back. Don’t move.” Still steaming at Galen, Rose went into the kitchen to put cookies on a dish and get a glass of tea. How dare Galen think he could order her around, tell her to go inside? “He and I are going to have serious words when he returns,” she murmured.

  The kitchen door opened and Fiona huffed in. “Where’s Storm?”

  “In there. Waiting for your return. Wants you to show him your technique with a frying pan,” Rose said, teasing.

  Fiona nodded. “I may be glad to show him again. Let me talk to him first. If I’m still annoyed after our chat, he’ll have a two-lump day.”

  Fiona took the cookies and tea Rose handed her for Storm, and went through to the den. The kitchen door opened again. Galen came inside, sweaty and looking pleased with himself. He shouldn’t have been so handsome, but the sweat and dirt only highlighted the blue of his eyes and the strength in his face.

  Rose glared at him. “Have everything settled to your satisfaction?”

  He grinned. “It’s a good day at Rancho Diablo when the Callahans send the bad guys packing.”

  She handed him a cold glass of tea. “I don’t appreciate being ordered off.”

  “I understand.” He kissed her on the lips, placed a hand on her stomach. “And I hope you’ll understand when I tell you that it’s time for you to join Mack in Tempest until the babies are born.”

  Chapter Eight

  By Thanksgiving, Rose was certain she hadn’t married a Callahan but a ghost. It had been weeks since she’d seen Galen. He called, he texted, but his visits were few and far between, and usually under cover of darkness.

  It had been a long six months.

  He said he didn’t visit often because he didn’t want to lead bad guys right to her and Mack’s door. Galen had a lot of respect for her father, or he wouldn’t trust sending her to his home—but at the same time, he felt it was best to keep the pressure off.

  Yet the pressure was on. The news that they were expecting triplets had made Galen even more protective of her, and of their babies. Which he was convinced were all boys, naturally.

  Galen had never really been the same since the attack at Rancho Diablo. When he did come to see her now, she’d waken to feel him sliding into her bed, wrapping his big arms around her.

  Mack walked into the kitchen to turn on the coffeemaker. “What are you doing up at this hour, girl? You’re supposed to be on bed rest.”

  She stared out the window at the wintry landscape. “I can’t sleep.” She didn’t sleep much, between thinking about Galen all the time, worrying about him, and the babies changing positions.

  “Coffee?”

  “No, thanks. But some herbal tea would be nice.” She didn’t feel like drinking anything, but the tea would warm her fingers. Her heart couldn’t be warmed. Rose stared at the drifting snow and glanced at the thermometer outside the window. It was eighteen degrees at 5:00 a.m. She pulled her wool shawl a bit tighter around her. “I think I’ve finally accepted that this is the new status of my marriage.”

  Mack came to stand beside her, handing her a steaming cup. “I did warn you that marrying a Callahan was no way to live a dull life, baby girl. And they’ve got a proper shitstorm going out there. I get word from Sheriff Cartwright, who relays messages to me from Galen. They’re covered up with trouble.”

  “I know.” She sipped her tea. “Doesn’t make it any easier. I want to be with my husband.”

  “Go get back on the sofa,” her father instructed. “Doesn’t do any good, disobeying doctor’s orders.”

  The babies felt like bowling balls inside her. She knew she should go relax. Still, she lingered one more second at the window, hungry for a glimpse of the outdoors.

  “Galen was right to send you here, you know.”

  She didn’t reply, knowing her dad’s words were valid, and yet resenting them just the same.

  “See that tree?” Mack asked.

  She nodded.

  “Last night there was a scout in it. Thought I wouldn’t see him. I always see them.” He chuckled softly.

  Rose turned to face her father. “What do you mean, you always see them?”

  “There’s been someone watching us since about a week after you came. Galen warned me to be ready to leave if things got too hot here. So I watch our little friends as they come and go. I know a bit about being under surveillance.”

  Her throat went dry. “You never told me.”

  Mack shrugged. “No point. You need to rest, not fret. My only reason for telling you now is so that you’ll trust Galen to do the right thing.”

  “I do trust Galen. I just worry. Nothing’s going to change that.” She went to lie down, and her father sat across from her in an old leather recliner. Now she knew why he kept his shotgun loaded and nearby at all times. He also wore a holster with a gun at his back, under his jacket. Rose glanced toward the window again. Big, wet flakes of snow drifted down, enveloping the small house in silence.

  “Sometimes I want to scream, but it wouldn’t do any good.” She picked up a book of sudoku puzzles and began to work in it.

  Mack chuckled and got up to start a blaze in the fireplace. “In a month, you’ll have so many babies to take care of, you’ll want to scream for another reason.” He smiled. “You were a good baby. I’m sure yours will be just as good. I’m looking forward to being a grandfather. Since your mom’s been gone, and then you left to work, it was too quiet around here.” He zipped his vest and headed outside for more firewood, and Rose put the sudoku aside. She wasn’t in the mood for games.

  She’d brought danger here. Even the simple act of her father going outside to bring in more logs for the fire was something to be worried about. She knew that from the attack on Rancho Diablo—one moment all had been well on a sunny day, the next, all hell had broken loose.

  When she’d asked Galen how they’d run off Wolf and his men, he hadn’t said much. He didn’t want her to worry. She’d resented him shutting her out, but she’d also understood.

  He was concerned about her stress levels during her pregnancy, and wanted her to feel safe. Secure.

  She felt anything but.

  After he built up the fire, her father glanced at her again. “I’m going out for a bit to check on the cattle. Will you be all right? Can I get you anything?”

  “I’m fine. Going back to sleep. Thanks, Dad.” She snuggled down in the blanket, basking in the warmth from the fire. The babies wres
tled in her stomach, fighting for space. Rose smiled with contentment, putting a hand over her tummy as she drifted off.

  She awakened many hours later when Galen put a hand on her stomach. “Galen! What are you doing here?”

  “I called your phone to say I was coming out. Tomorrow’s Thanksgiving. I want to celebrate with my family.” He kissed her on the lips, and Rose sighed with happiness.

  “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “I know you are.” He gave her a teasing wink. “Is there room on that sofa for Dad?”

  “With the four of us?” She glanced at the armchair opposite. “Where’s my father?”

  Galen touched her hair, ran a finger down her cheek. “I didn’t see him, but I came in the back door.”

  Rose sat up and looked at the fire, which had gone out. “Galen! He didn’t come back!”

  “Mack didn’t come back from where?”

  “From checking on the cattle! He got more firewood, then said he was going back out for a bit!”

  Galen jumped to his feet. Panic swept over her.

  “I’ll find him. Don’t worry.”

  “Be careful, Galen.” Of course she was worried. But Rose didn’t say that, because it wouldn’t serve any purpose. Galen strode out, and the door slammed.

  “Oh, no,” she whispered to herself. A trembling started in her limbs. She put a hand over her stomach, willing herself to be calm, frustrated that she couldn’t go help Galen find her father. The snow had continued falling throughout the day and was now much deeper, so her father’s footprints would be long covered.

  Rose got up with an effort and went to the window to stare out. “Still snowing,” she murmured. She glanced toward the trees where Mack had said he’d seen the scout, gasping when she realized she hadn’t told Galen they were being spied on.

  A sudden memory of the attack at Rancho Diablo goaded her into action. She had to tell Galen he might be walking into danger. Rose grabbed her coat, and reached for her phone to text him. Scout on property.

  She pulled on a pair of green rubber boots, then grabbed one of Mack’s shotguns from the rack on the wall.