The Callahans: The Complete Series

by Gordon Ryan

  “Mr. Callahan,” she interrupted, “we have, as I indicated earlier, reached an accommodation of sorts in this valley. You’ll come to understand that, and to appreciate the need for each of us to do what we can. Continually, we have new immigrants, and our population grows constantly. God’s work knows no boundaries. In answer to my prayers, God has never asked me where the people attend church, and I am pleased to serve Him where and how I can.

  “Let me tell you something, Mr. Callahan. God sent you to us for a purpose. I knew that the moment you entered Holy Cross Hospital. I don’t know why, and I can see, neither do you. But in good time, Mr. Callahan, He will reveal himself unto you. Until then, we are pleased to have your services.”

  Tom drove silently for a few minutes, his thoughts flitting back to Katrina’s comment about the Lord’s purposes for him, and how she would not be concerned about his welfare. “And if that direction leads toward the Mormon way, Sister?” he asked, turning to see her face in the moonlight.

  “As I said, Mr. Callahan, they are good people.”

  Tom pulled up to the entrance of the hospital and assisted Sister Mary down from the seat. “As are you, Sister. Thank you for allowing me to assist.” Tom said.

  She reached for and held his hand momentarily as she parted. “It is an elderly Mormon gentleman who provides us the food, Mr. Callahan,” she smiled. “And he doesn’t ask who receives it. We all work together for the common good. Twice a week we shall make these distributions, God willing.”

  “Count on me, Sister. It will be my pleasure to help.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Callahan. And God’s blessings to you,” she said, leaving Tom to unhitch and stable the horse and to contemplate the evening’s work.

  Ye knew when ye sent me here, didn’t ye, Father O’Leary? Aye, that ye did.

  Chapter 10

  Tom saw Katrina and Andy before either of them spotted him. Standing off to the side of the temple building, Tom allowed them to pass before stepping out onto the foot path. He followed at a distance and watched as several groups of people greeted the couple. A number of young men in particular made certain to say hello to her, and Tom saw that Katrina had apparently become popular. He noted that she carried herself confidently, and it suddenly became very apparent to him that there was a broad social gap between him and the vivacious young woman. It occurred to him how little he had to offer her, and he briefly considered turning around and leaving.

  Though she was clearly the same young woman he had known, standing now only a few feet from Katrina, Tom experienced a strange sensation that he didn’t know her, that she bore little resemblance to the woman whose image he had entertained in his mind for nearly a year. And now that she was within reach, he hesitated, not certain how to proceed. Still, he had worked hard to achieve this moment, and the Irish in him gave him the determination to see it through. He hurried to catch Anders and Katrina, and as the couple approached the entrance to the Tabernacle, he closed to a few feet, and spoke softly.

  “Katie?”

  At the sound of her name, she turned. A look of astonishment turned to pleasure as she recognized Tom. She had imagined for so long what it might be like if he ever came. She had pictured herself running into his arms, but now she didn’t know how to react. She just stood there, looking into his face with amazement and clinging to her brother’s arm. Then tears began to well up in her eyes, and she didn’t trust herself to speak, even if she had known what to say.

  Tom moved closer, smiled at her, and reached without looking away from Katrina to shake Andy’s hand. For several moments Tom and Katrina stood looking at one another, while Andy stood by, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

  “’Tis a vision of loveliness I see this evening,” Tom finally said, trying to grin but not succeeding very well.

  Katrina recognized the first words Tom ever spoke to her, standing together on the deck of the Antioch that first morning at sea. But she still stood speechless, trying to gather her senses and continuing to cling tightly to Andy’s arm.

  “May we have a few moments, Andy?” Tom finally asked, shifting his gaze to Anders. “I’d like to walk with Katie for a while.”

  Andy looked at Katrina. She let go of her brother’s arm and somewhat tentatively took hold of Tom’s.

  “I’ll meet you here after the concert, Klinka,” Andy said.

  The couple walked to the north, toward the gated exit from Temple Square, and then turned west on North Temple as they left the temple grounds. They walked without speaking for a minute or two, following the outer perimeter of Temple Square and mingling with those headed for the concert.

  “You look well, Thomas,” Katrina finally said.

  “As do you, Katie. Utah seems to have been well suited for your new home. Andy tells me you are attending the university, training to be a teacher.”

  “Yes,” she smiled. “I really enjoy my studies. How about you, Thomas? What have you been up to this past year?”

  Tom laughed—a hearty laugh that answered Katrina’s question almost without words.

  “Finding your way to Utah, I guess,” she said, embarrassed. “And when did you arrive?”

  “I got to Salt Lake the day of statehood,” he replied. “I was in Ogden for a day or two before that, finishing up some work.”

  “You’ve been here that long?” she asked.

  Not knowing quite how to defend himself, Tom didn’t answer immediately. Then he said, “I’ve been busy getting settled. I didn’t know for a while whether or not you were actually living here.”

  Katrina scarcely heard Tom’s reply. Her mind had gone back to statehood day and Harold’s proposal of marriage. She’d been in constant turmoil since then. Now her worst fear and her strongest desire had come face to face. Tom had, indeed, come. But he had arrived too late. Just three days earlier, while on a horse-drawn sleigh ride with Harold, he had asked Katrina if she had given his proposal due consideration. She had made him almost deliriously happy by simply saying, “Yes, Harold. I will marry you.” Now, she was firmly caught between both of them. A promise to one, and a promise to the other. The realization of what she had done brought a sudden feeling of embarrassment, that bordered on panic. She didn’t know what to say, and they walked in silence for a while longer.

  “Have you found a place to stay and work?”

  “Aye. I live and work at Holy Cross Hospital, up on Tenth East. It’s a good situation for me. Sister Mary Theophane, who hired me, is a wonderful person and a good friend.”

  Katrina nodded as they continued to walk around the square, cutting through the center a couple of times and reversing their path. After nearly an hour and a half of conversation about Utah, Salt Lake City, and other pleasantries, Tom led Katrina to a bench north of the temple, where they sat together for a few moments without speaking.

  Tom broke the silence. “I’ve not forgotten you, Katie. Not for a moment this past year. But Anders has told me that someone else has entered your life.”

  Katrina looked down at her feet, uncertain how to answer. Not wanting to hurt Tom, and not entirely certain of her own feelings, she had no reply.

  “It’s not my intent to cause you worry, Katie, or to interfere in your life if indeed you’ve found someone else. But I know from your face when I first spoke to you tonight, that you were glad to see me. Surprised, but glad. Do we have the time to finish what we started on the boat? Do we have the time to see what fate has in store for us, Katie?”

  “Oh, Thomas, I’m so confused. I waited and prayed for you to come for so long, and then I didn’t know if you would. I just didn’t know what to do. Poppa wanted me to . . . , well, he hoped I would find someone and get married, but I was angered by his insistence. I suppose Anders has told you about Mr. Stromberg?” she asked.

  “Some,” Tom said.

  “He really is a nice man, Thomas,” she offered, biting her lip as she realized that a litany of Harold Stromberg’s good traits were of no interest
to Tom.

  Tom remained quiet for several minutes. “Will I not have the chance to see you, then, Katie?”

  “Thomas, Harold has asked me to marry him. In fact, he’s asked several times over the past few months.”

  “And what was your answer, Katie?”

  “Oh, Thomas,” she whimpered, the tears now overflowing her eyes. “I . . . I’ve given him my answer. I told him I would marry him.” Rushing her words to finish her explanation, she continued, “I didn’t know if you would come, Thomas, and Christmas came and the year was up, and . . .”

  Tom stood abruptly, leaving Katrina seated, tears now freely flowing down her cheeks. “I do understand, Katie. Perhaps it’s best I go. I didn’t come to Utah to disrupt your life. If you have found someone else, maybe we should each get on with our lives.”

  “Thomas, do you see this temple behind us? You just asked me if we had time to see what fate had in store for us. I want to know what the Lord has in store for me, Thomas. I told you on the boat that I was concerned about my religion too, and . . .”

  “I understand, Katie, I truly do.” He didn’t intend it, but he sounded curt. A hollow ache in his chest threatened to bring on tears of his own, and he wanted to leave.

  People were beginning to exit the Tabernacle, and as Anders came out of the building, he spotted Tom and Katrina and began walking toward them. Not wishing to put on a happy front and afraid he would not be able to mask his emotions, Tom said, “I’ll say good-bye now, Katie. Andy is coming.”

  Tom turned to leave, waving briefly to Andy and heading quickly for the north entrance to Temple Square. By the time Andy reached Katrina, Tom was just rounding the gate post. He looked back briefly before disappearing behind the wall.

  Without speaking to Andy, Katrina jumped to her feet and ran to the gate.

  “Thomas, please, wait. Thomas!” Clearing the gate, she turned east in the direction Tom had gone. He stopped and turned to face her.

  “Oh, Thomas, I do care for you. Truly I do, and I am so sorry for the trouble I have caused. When you suddenly appeared tonight, it was as if all my concerns had surfaced at once. Can you understand?”

  He reached out to touch her hair and looked into her eyes. He was smiling sadly. “Katie, the Lord has a purpose for us all, Catholic and Mormon, and we must follow our hearts in whatever direction He leads us. I’m sure He knows your heart, too. I told you I didn’t attend church, but I never said I didn’t believe in Him. Sister Mary has . . . Look, Katie, I’d best say good-bye now,” he whispered, feeling his eyes beginning to water.

  “Oh, Thomas, I’m so sorry. Please understand.”

  “I do, Katie, and I’ll never forget you, or your loveliness,” he said, gently stroking her cheek with the back of his hand. “God’s blessings on ye, Katie, me darlin’.”

  21 January 1896

  Dear Nana,

  My heart is pounding so hard tonight, Nana, that I can scarcely breath. He’s come. Thomas has come to Utah. I knew the moment I saw him again that I love him. I love him, Nana. I love him with all my heart, but I have agreed to marry Harold. Oh, please help me, Nana.

  Jeg elske du,

  Katrina

  On St. Patrick’s day, March seventeenth, Sister Mary and a couple of the nursing sisters surprised Tom by decorating his room in the basement of the hospital. Coming back that afternoon from an errand Sister Mary had contrived to get him out of the hospital, he went to his room to pick up some tools and found various green and gold decorations covering the walls. The picture of the river Shannon flowing gently through County Limerick’s countryside stopped Tom dead in his tracks, and he stood staring at it.

  The light tap on his door broke his thought, and he quickly wiped the tears from his cheeks before opening the door.

  “Happy St. Paddy’s day, Thomas Matthew Callahan,” Sister Mary exclaimed. Sister Mary immediately sensed something was wrong, and she stifled her enthusiasm as she tried to discern Tom’s mood. Stepping into the room, she closed the door behind her.

  “Thomas, what is it? What’s wrong?”

  “Aw, ’tis nothin’, Sister,” he said, turning away and moving a few things on his make-shift dresser. “Just a bit of homesickness, I guess.”

  Sister Mary took the single chair, placed it against the door, and took a seat.

  “Mr. Callahan, I’ve noticed lately, and so have several of the nursing sisters, that you’ve been rather quiet—not your usual self. Is it something you’d care to talk about?”

  “Sister, you’ve got more to worry about than the foolish whims of yer maintenance man.”

  “Is that what you think you are, Thomas? Our maintenance man?”

  He turned to look at her and saw she was smiling in a kindly way at him. “Thomas, I have always been proud of Holy Cross Hospital, and taking nothing from the good people at the other hospitals in Salt Lake, I think we give the best care in Utah to our patients. But I want to tell you, Thomas, that since you’ve come to live and work with us, Holy Cross has taken on a new air. You’ve brought us a feeling of joy, of enthusiasm, aye, even of humor. And that’s not an easy thing to do in a hospital, where people are often dying.

  “Please, sit down for a moment,” she said, motioning to his bed. Tom complied. “All the nursing sisters, Sister Jude, Sister Josephine, Sister Thomasina, . . . I could go on and on. All of them, Thomas, at one time or another, over the past two months, have taken occasion to express to me how they feel about you and the wonderful contribution you are making to Holy Cross. It’s a rare thing you have, and you are loved here. Don’t you feel that, Thomas?”

  Sister Mary sat silently, waiting for his response. Finally, Tom raised his eyes and saw in her face the love and concern she had just expressed. Aside from his mother, no one had ever said such a thing to him, and Sister Mary’s words, coming as they did at this low point in his life, touched his sentimental Irish heart in a particularly tender way.

  “Sister Mary,” he mumbled, “I don’t know what to say.” But say something, he did. He poured out the whole story: The pain he had felt when leaving Ireland; meeting Katrina on board ship; the struggle he had made to find his way to Utah; and the crushing disappointment he had experienced when Katrina told him she was already engaged to be married. He lamented the fates that had made Katrina a Mormon and Tom a Catholic, blaming Katrina’s domineering father for driving her into a marriage she did not want.

  Sister Mary had known much of the story. During their midnight charitable forays, Tom had said enough for her to know more about him than he suspected. What he hadn’t disclosed, she had surmised.

  “In all fairness to her, Sister, she didn’t know if I’d ever make it to Utah, and her father pushed her toward this other fellow,” Tom said, dropping his face into his hands.

  “And today, of all days, St. Paddy’s day, I see the notice of her wedding in the paper. In two weeks she’ll . . .” Tom lowered his head again, while Sister Mary sat with her hands folded in her lap, quietly assessing the situation.

  After a time, she said, “Thomas, whom do you love?”

  He raised his head. “I don’t understand.”

  “As we sit here, at this moment, of all the people in the world, whom do you love?”

  Tom thought for a few moments, his hands clasped together, the fingers rubbing each other in a massaging motion. “My family?”

  “Will you ever see them again?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What if you don’t?” she said. “Will you still love them?”

  “Well, I guess so. Yeah, of course I will,” he stated, more emphatically.

  “Do you love me, Thomas?” She was looking at him earnestly, a kindly smile lighting up her face.

  “You’re a sister, Sister,” he laughed.

  Her smile dissolved into a serious expression. “Yes, Thomas, I am a nursing sister. But do you love me?”

  “I guess I do. In a different sort of way. You’ve been very kind to me.”

&n
bsp; “Thank you, Thomas. I appreciate that. And I’m glad you love me, Mr. Thomas Matthew Callahan, because I must tell you, as we sit here in the quiet of your room, that I most certainly love you.”

  He looked at her again, unsure how to respond. “Thomas,” she went on, “there are many kinds of love, and our Lord and Savior loved everyone—even those who nailed him to the cross. He loved them, Thomas, and he asked his Father to forgive them, even as they brutalized him. His love wasn’t based on the actions of others toward him. It was unconditional.

  “I know the loss of love is very painful, Thomas. But love is only lost, if you let it go. Do you really love this girl? Can you keep loving her, Thomas?”

  “What do you mean, Sister?”

  “I mean that if you keep loving her and the memory of her, especially the things she inspired in you, then you needn’t lose her love, even if she becomes someone else’s wife. You can love the wonderful things you found in her, and, privately in your heart, you can treasure them.”

  “But, Sister, I wanted to marry her,” he said.

  “I know, Thomas,” she said, softly and compassionately. “And that may not happen, but if you become bitter, if you let your disappointment destroy the love you feel for her, then both your happiness, and possibly hers, if she knows how you feel, will be affected. Can you understand that? Let her be happy, Thomas. Love her enough to let her be happy.”

  Tom nodded, though he wasn’t certain he fully understood what Sister Mary had told him.

  “We’ll talk more about this later, Thomas. I know how important it is to you. But for now,” she stood, removing the chair and placing it against the wall, “several of the sisters have prepared a cake and punch treat for dear ole’ St. Paddy. They’re quite excited that we now have our own resident ‘Paddy’—that’s you, Thomas—” she laughed. “They’re hoping you will join us. Will you?”