Having Faith: Callaghan Brothers, Book 7 Read online

  “Don’t startle the driver,” he exhaled wearily. “But mom – red noses! Is that cool or what? Hey, do they have reindeer in Pennsylvania?”

  Faith smiled at her son’s barely contained excitement. She’d worried how the move would affect him, but so far he seemed to be taking it all in stride, treating it like it was some huge adventure. It did her heart good to see her mature, quiet, thirteen-almost-fourteen year old acting like a young boy again, even if she knew it was short lived.

  “I don’t think so,” she said, appearing to give the matter serious thought. “But I do think they have great big deer that look just like them.”

  “Cool,” Matt breathed, searching the acres of forested land on either side of the highway as if he expected to see one jump out at any moment. “Holy shit, mom!” he exclaimed only a few short minutes later. “You’re right! Look!”

  “What did I tell you about cursing?!” she scolded, but even she found it difficult to bite back a colorful expletive when she spotted the fourteen-point buck grazing on the rocky incline off to the right, not even fifty yards from the seventy-mile an hour traffic on the Northeast Extension of the Pennsylvania Turnpike. At least three does were visible on either side of him.

  “Mom!?” he yelled again, causing her to wrench her eyes back to the road and slam on the brakes when the flow of traffic slowed significantly in front of them. What the hell? When did the speed limit suddenly drop down to fifty-five?

  “Oh, wow,” Matt said, his eyes widening as he looked to the front. “It’s a tunnel! Right through the mountains! We’re going to drive through a mountain, mom! How freaking awesome is that!”

  “Pretty freaking awesome,” she agreed with only slightly less enthusiasm, removing her sunglasses as the warning signs commanded and turning on her headlights. Faith gripped the steering wheel tighter, fighting against the instant claustrophobia of being in such an enclosed space. The man-made arch loomed up over them, the yellow lights casting an eerie glow over everything as they made their way through and the song on the radio changed from an upbeat tune into a buzz of static. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until they came out on the other side a scant one mile later.

  “Wow.” Matt looked out the passenger side window down into the steep ravine, then up at the peaks that rose above them as they climbed steadily higher. Far below, small towns that once housed the local coal miners and their families looked like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting.

  “So you’re liking Pennsylvania, huh?” Faith smiled, finding Matt’s good mood infectious.

  “Oh yeah,” he grinned back. “At least, so far.”

  He was growing up so fast, she thought. He’d be fourteen by the end of the summer, but no one would know that just by looking at him. He already towered over his mother by a good eight inches, his gangly frame the only glaring evidence that he was still a few years from full manhood. But it wasn’t just his size that made him appear older. Matt was more mature than most boys his age, having to grow up faster than she would have liked. He hadn’t had it easy.

  More than anything else, Faith was hoping this move would be good for him. For both of them. A fresh start in a new place; it was exactly what they needed.

  All of their most prized possessions were in the back of the light blue Taurus, now pushing the two hundred thousand mile mark and showing its age. It wouldn’t win any beauty contests, but with a little help and a lot of luck it ran well enough. It had gotten them this far, and for that she was grateful.

  As if mocking her, the radiator light started blinking on the dash, informing her that their current ascent up the mountain was pushing its limits. At the next widened area she’d pull over and refill the overflow tank with the gallon of water she always kept in the back along with an impressive supply of paper clips, rubber bands, bungee cords, and, her personal fix-it tool of choice - duct tape. She patted the console appreciatively, murmuring a few encouraging words. As if responding to her heartfelt plea, the light blinked off again.

  “Tell me again about the house,” Matt asked for the hundredth time, all traces of sleepiness gone. Faith didn’t mind. She was every bit as excited about the prospect of having their own place as he was. And after nearly fifteen hours of driving, she welcomed the topic.

  “Well, it’s going to need a lot of work,” she cautioned, just as she had every other time he’d asked.

  “Yeah, but we’re good at that kind of stuff,” Matt said with the arrogance of a young teen.

  “Yes, we are. It’s a small place, little more than a cottage, really. Made of stone. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, living room, kitchen.”

  “And a basement, right? Rooms actually under the house?”

  “Yep,” she grinned. Most of Matt’s young life had been spent in areas of the south barely above sea level, where few homes actually had basements. And they’d never come across such a thing in the trailer parks they’d lived in over the past ten years.

  “And a porch? And a yard?”

  “Yep. Even a detached garage and a shed.”

  “Sweet.” He settled back again, eyes wide as he took in the unfamiliar landscape, no doubt imagining all the wonders of their new home. In the back of her mind, so was she.

  Chapter Two

  “Kier, can you head over to the property on Sycamore later?” Shane asked as he lifted Ryan from his car seat so that he could run around a little. The boy was a true Callaghan – always moving, always looking for something to get into.

  Kieran grabbed the box of baked goodies provided by Maggie and followed his brother into the massive home owned by the family of Shane’s fiancé, Lacie. Shane managed the assortment of properties owned by the Callaghan Corporation, as well as handled all the legal dealings of the clan.

  “Sure. What’s up?”

  “The new owner’s due to arrive sometime this week. With everything going on it completely slipped my mind. The place has been empty for years, and I haven’t had a chance to make sure the electric and plumbing are safe and operational.”

  Kieran frowned. “Wait. You mean that ratty old cottage? Someone actually bought that?”

  “Yep.”

  “I hope he’s a real do-it-yourself type. That place needs a major overhaul.”

  “Not ‘he’, ‘she’,” Shane corrected. “Single mom.”

  Kieran’s frown deepened. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Nope.”

  “We’ve got to have a better property available,” Kieran said, shaking his head at the thought of a woman living in such a place. It went against every male instinct he had. “Something more suitable for a single mom.”

  “We do,” Shane confirmed. “But the buyer was very specific about what she was looking for.”

  Kieran couldn’t help the frown that creased his brow as he wondered what kind of woman would buy that type of property. Maybe she was one of these people who professionally “flipped’ houses – bought old ones in poor shape for a song, fixed them up, then sold them for a profit. That had been one of Shane’s reasonings for buying the old place originally.

  Kieran was as surprised by the fact that he was selling it in its current condition as he was with the buyer. Then again, the past couple of months had been pretty rough on Shane. Several months ago he’d discovered his croie, only to have her kidnapped at the hands of a psychotic family friend. Factor in the tricky extraction of her brother from Afghanistan after being missing and presumed dead for nearly three years, and Kieran could definitely understand Shane’s lack of attention to some things, however uncharacteristic of his highly-organized brother.

  “What do you know about her?” Kieran asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

  “The buyer? Not much. Single mom, like I said. Relocating from down South. Works for the Goddess.”

  When the newest location of the Celtic Goddess first opened its doors in the northeast a few years previously, owner/partner Aidan Harrison brought in staff from their other succe
ssful locations in Georgia and Chicago, as well as hiring quite a few locals. The Goddess was doing so well, surpassing so many expectations, that Aidan was currently adding on an entire new series of luxury suites as well. The remote mountain location and the panoramic view it afforded made it a natural progression, as well as a lucrative endeavor.

  Something about the whole situation bothered him. Kieran rubbed absently at a spot on his chest, unaware that he was even doing so. The motion did not escape Shane’s attention, though.

  “Something on your mind, little brother?” he asked.

  “Yes. No. Maybe.” Kieran shook his head, not at all surprised that Shane had picked up on it. He was used to his brother’s uncanny senses.

  “Feeling anxious, huh?” Shane prompted knowingly.

  “Yeah,” Kieran admitted. “A little.” He exhaled and relayed all that had happened at Michael’s earlier.

  Shane looked thoughtful. “That might explain it,” he said carefully, but his eyes watched Kieran, unconvinced.

  “Yeah.” Kieran wasn’t convinced either. He was worried about Maggie, and the fact that she was unhappy with him at the moment didn’t sit well, but he couldn’t help feeling that there was something more to this strange apprehension he was feeling.

  “So you’ll check it out?”

  Kieran blinked, mentally backtracking to figure out what Shane was talking about. Right. The cottage. Electricity. Plumbing. “Yeah, sure.”

  * * *

  “How much longer?” Matt asked impatiently. They’d gotten off the very last exit of the turnpike extension a while ago, the roads getting progressively narrower and less travelled the farther northwest they went. They’d been on the road for nearly seventeen hours straight with only brief stops at interstate rest areas for bathroom breaks and tank fill-ups.

  “Not much longer, I think,” she said, not minding the question at all. It was the first time he’d asked the entire trip. He’d been her stalwart copilot, studiously informing her on their progress as he navigated them through one state after another, map in hand. It wasn’t that difficult. Once they’d hopped onto I-95 North it was a straight shot up the coast till they hit Philadelphia and picked up the PA Turnpike. It was only since they had abandoned that that he seemed to have grown anxious.

  In all honesty, she was feeling a bit anxious herself.

  “Wow.” This time it was Faith uttering the exclamation as they rounded the final ridge and saw the entire valley spread out before them.

  “Is that it, Mom? Is that Pine Ridge?”

  A grin slowly spread across her face. “I believe it is.”

  Matt let out a hearty whoop, making her laugh. “We’re home!”

  Home, indeed, Faith thought, feeling the depth of it in her soul.

  * * *

  After dropping Ryan off with his sister-in-law Taryn, Kieran headed out to the little stone cottage at the outskirts of town. It was a nice piece of property, or at least it had been at one time. A decent parcel with a small house set back from the road, but within shouting distance of the nearest neighbors. It would have been described with words like “charming” and “cozy” and perhaps even “rustic” in a professional real estate ad. “Handyman special” was an understatement.

  The place was not without appeal, however, Kieran thought as he got out of his sleek custom black Porsche. With significant amounts of money, labor, and time, it did have the potential to be very charming and cozy indeed. Kieran absently rubbed his chest again when the troublesome ache intensified. If it kept up, he might have to ask Mick about it, get it checked out.

  The cottage and property showed classic signs of neglect. What was once a pebbled drive was now dotted with weeds and small saplings. The lawn was too high with wild grass and wildflowers, obviously forsaken by the teen Shane had hired to mow the place once in a while. Shutters hung drunkenly from wood-framed windows. A couple of the steps and boards on the small front porch were rotted and warped. Several shingles lifted in the slight breeze; undoubtedly there would be more in a good, stiff wind or one of the frequent thunderstorms that popped up this time of year. And that was just the outside.

  Kieran wondered what Shane was thinking, selling a property in this condition, even with the current distractions in his life. While unusual for him to buy a property in such a state of disrepair, it was not unheard of. In those infrequent instances, the purchase was usually made as a joint venture with their cousin, Johnny Connelly, who ran a construction and home remodeling company in the next town. But Johnny clearly hadn’t been working his magic out here, and Kieran had trouble believing his overly-cautious brother would let anyone buy it, let alone a single mom. Even if she was the female equivalent of Bob Villa or Ty Pennington she’d be in over her head with this place.

  At first glance, the inside wasn’t much better. A thick layer of dust and cobwebs covered everything. It was minimally furnished – at least Kieran supposed it was furniture beneath the heavy drop cloths scattered here and there. What looked like a couch in the living room. A rickety table and two chairs in the kitchen. Nothing in the bedrooms.

  Not surprisingly, the electricity was not turned on, though the place did seem to have running water. He turned on the spigot in the kitchen, letting it run for several minutes until the rusty brown started turning clear again. Thank goodness for small miracles, he muttered.

  At least the cottage seemed to be structurally sound overall. The interior would need a lot of patchwork, and a few sheets of drywall here and there, but nothing too overwhelming, he admitted reluctantly, then wondered why it mattered so much to him.

  He knew why. Jack Callaghan had raised his boys the old-fashioned way. Women were exquisite creatures that were to be coveted and cared for. He had a very strong protective streak in him when it came to things like that. Oh, he knew it wasn’t exactly a politically correct viewpoint, but such things were hard-wired into him, right alongside his sense of honor and loyalty and Irish pride.

  He respected a woman’s right to have the same choices as a man, but he also felt a responsibility to look out for them, some deep-rooted belief that it was simply the right thing to do. It was what his brothers consistently referred to as his “knight” complex, though in truth, they were all guilty of feeling the same thing to some degree.

  Kieran rubbed at his chest again. The strange unease he’d felt all day was intensifying. He looked up into the late afternoon sky expecting to find the hint of an approaching storm – it felt just like that, like a warning that something powerful was headed his way – but found nothing except cloudless blue all around. The sensation seemed much stronger here than it had earlier at Maggie’s or Lacie’s.

  He tried to shrug it off, believing it to be his own conscience rebelling – first at helping Michael distract Maggie, and now at the thought of a single mom moving into a place like this.

  Most of the time he kept his views to himself, at least tried to, but this was just going too far. Deciding that something had to be done, Kieran got back into his Porsche and returned to the Pub with the intent of telling Shane he simply had to find another property.

  Maybe then this anxiety would ease.

  * * *

  Faith felt a stab of excitement when she made the right onto Sycamore Lane. According to the realtor, the property was all the way down at the end on the right hand side. She cruised past the houses, reciting the numbers on the mailboxes aloud, Matt’s soft echoes synchronized with hers.

  A sleek black Porsche passed them going in the other direction, earning a murmur of appreciation from Matt. Faith felt a brief but intense shiver of anticipation, a warming tingle that began deep in her belly and radiated outward.

  “Ready?” she asked, shoving the odd sensation out of the way when she stopped the car at the massive evergreen that marked the property end of number 1780 and the beginning of 1782. Beyond that tree lay the culmination of dreams over the last ten years: a home, a real home.

  Matt took a deep steadying breat
h. “Ready,” he answered with his irresistible grin. Faith held that picture of him in her heart, knowing that in only a few years he’d be off on his own.

  Faith edged the car forward, turning into the pebbled drive and continuing all the way up toward the cottage. They sat there, the two of them, wide-eyed and silent as they got their first look at their new home in the approaching twilight. Faith scanned the overgrown lawn, took in the sagging and cockeyed porch as well as the drunkenly hanging shutters.

  “It’s perfect,” Matt said, his voice filled with awe. A single tear slipped down Faith’s cheek.

  She couldn’t have agreed more.

  * * *

  “I’m still mad at you,” Maggie sniffed when Kieran entered the Pub kitchen. He might have been the size of a Mack truck, but all Maggie could focus on was the puppy dog look in his big blue eyes. She steeled herself against them. Of all the brothers, Kieran was the only one who could make her heart melt in motherly affection with the slight hint of dimples and the boyish charm that defied his manly form.

  Apparently she wasn’t the only one susceptible to his charms. Her sisters-in-law were just as affected. Michael often quipped that it made Kieran the most dangerous of them all. Looking at him now, positively contrite, his eyes begging forgiveness, she had the nearly irresistible urge to ruffle his naturally unkempt hair. It was only through a sheer force of will – strengthened and continually tested by facing the same roguish charm on her own little boy’s face – that she managed not to smile and retain a peeved expression.

  “I know,” he sighed soulfully, sitting next to her anyway. He crowded her with his big body, taking his time as he extracted a bag of bite-sized Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and put them on the table between them.

  Maggie’s eyes narrowed. She watched him intently as he opened the bag and slowly unwrapped one. He popped it into his mouth and closed his eyes, feeling Maggie’s gaze as he chewed, then swallowed.

  He flicked his glance sideways, as if he had just remembered she was there. “I’m sorry. Would you... like one?”