Forever Mine: Callaghan Brothers, Book 9

She leaned forward, then snapped back and shook her head violently. “Mom and Dad said I’m not supposed to hug you yet.”


“See that? Taking care of me again. All right then. How about a high-five?”

She rolled her eyes. “Nobody high-fives anymore, Grandpa. They fist-bump.”

“Fist-bump, it is. Now, are you going to watch the rest of the game with me?”

“Can I sit in this chair and hold your hand?”

“Aye.”

“Then yes.”





Chapter Twenty-One


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Jack paused and looked out over the acres and acres of farmland, a natural quilt of browns, tans, and greens. The trees were already beginning to change into their autumnal palette; they, along with the depression-era, stacked stone walls formed the sashing and the seams.

Down below and to the right lay the fifty-odd acres open to the public. From this position, Jack could see yet another school bus winding its way up the mountain, filled with excited school children. They would spend the day playing in the corn mazes and on the hay bale obstacle courses, enjoying the fun and educational hayride tours, and finishing their time here by picking their own apples and pumpkins to take home.

For years after her grandparents died, Maggie continued the family tradition of opening her farm to the locals, as well as providing home-grown herbal and homeopathic remedies to those in need. Now that the local restaurant, Celtic Goddess, had contracted with Maggie for exclusive rights to grow the organic produce for their offerings, she had the resources to hire a seasonal staff to keep the family fun going. Visiting Maggie’s farm had become a popular community staple each fall, and each year grew more so.

He could feel Maggie’s eyes on him. He resisted the childish urge to venture farther, out of her line of sight. While she respected his privacy, she watched over him like a mother hen. What she did, she did out of love and concern, but to a man who had been living without a woman’s direct influence for nearly a quarter of a century, her constant attention took some getting used to.

Both his cardiologist and his doctor son had told him that walking was good, so Jack used that as an opportunity to go for several strolls each day, weather permitting. He cherished the quiet peace of the chilly early mornings. The industrious hum of the afternoons. The gentle cloaking of early evening.

He was careful to keep his forays to the paths and away from the steep slopes. It felt good to move again, even if it was done more slowly and with greater care.

Off to the left, monstrous machines made quick work of harvesting the seasonal crops -— soybean, potatoes, yams, and apples this month. The high-class hotel and restaurant was owned and operated by family friend Aidan Harrison. Jack’s daughter-in-law, Lexi, was the head chef and the creator of the unique mix of Irish and Greek cuisine, a result of her own mixed heritage.

Lexi was also the only daughter of his old friend Brian. A sweet, loving child, she was the perfect match for his mischievous son, Ian. Not for the first time, Jack wondered what Brian thought of those two getting together and smiled, but it was a sad smile. So much had happened after Lexi’s mother passed. Deep in grief, Brian had remarried. Unlike Adonia, Patricia was a selfish, odious woman who, with her equally unpleasant daughter Kayla, had made life a living hell for Lexi.

Jack missed his friend. Brian was gone, having succumbed to a massive heart attack nearly seven years earlier. His death was what brought Lexi and Ian together. Jack liked to believe that it was Brian’s way of making amends for all of the bad things that had happened. Lexi was happy now; Ian made sure of that. Hopefully, Brian was at peace now, too.

The warmth of the sun kissed his face. He lifted it heavenward and closed his eyes, wondering why he was still earth-bound. So many of the people he loved were up there: Kathleen, Bri, Charlie, Fitz, his parents, Erin and Seamus. Why the hell was he still here where they weren’t? How long would it be before he saw them again?

When no answer was forthcoming, he sighed and returned his gaze to the earth. He could almost hear his father’s voice whispering in the light breeze. “All in good time, son.”

The words he’d spoken to his granddaughter days earlier were not spoken lightly. Jack truly believed that everything did happen for a reason. If he was still here, it was because he was supposed to be. Sometimes it was the only thing that got him through the day.

He wished he knew what that reason was. And how long it was going to take.

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December 1979

Pine Ridge

“How long is it going to take?” a four-year-old Kane wanted to know as Jack helped Kathleen in the truck.

“Yeah. How long?” echoed his two-, almost three-year-old brother Jake. Kane curled his upper lip and shot his little brother a cold look.

“Stop copying me.”