Closer To You (Callaways Book 11) Page 2

  "Ian," Emma said, giving him a hug. A sparkling, attractive blonde fire investigator, Emma had recently become one of his favorite cousins after their trip to Ireland, where he'd gotten a chance to get to know her better.

  "How are you?" he asked.

  "I'm good. I'm so glad you came. I wanted to tell you something. It's about the little girl we met in Kenmare."

  "Shannon?" he queried, remembering the freckle-faced, redhead with the toothy smile who'd taken an instant liking to Emma and Max.

  "Yes," she said with a happy nod. "It's taken us three months, but Max and I finally located her biological father. It took some doing, because he went under a different last name than the one Maeve gave us. Anyway, he lives in a small town in Texas. He's married and has a couple of children. I've spoken to him on the phone, and he said he was stunned to hear that he even had a child. Apparently, Shannon's mother never told him about the child, who was a product of a one-night stand. Max and I are going to fly to Texas to see him tomorrow."

  "Really?" he asked in surprise. "Why?"

  "Because Shannon's great-grandmother's health is worsening by the minute, and Maeve is extremely worried about Shannon being put into foster care."

  "Isn't there anyone closer who can help out?"

  "There's really not. And our grandmother is worried about Maeve and Shannon, and you know I can't say no to helping Grandma."

  He had to admit he had trouble with that himself. "I get it."

  "It will be a quick trip. I'm hoping that Shannon's father will turn out to be a good guy who wants to raise her. Maeve hates the thought of Shannon going to strangers, and so do I."

  "That's quite a hope." He wasn't at all convinced anyone was going to get the miracle they were looking for. "But can I just say there was probably a reason why Shannon's mother never told him she was pregnant?"

  Emma's smile dimmed. "I've thought that as well, especially when there was a name change, but Max has run a preliminary check on him, and nothing came up. He's not a criminal but that doesn't necessarily make him a good guy."

  "If he is her father, doesn't he have a legal obligation to take her? What if you find out he isn't a good guy, but he wants her? Does he get her?"

  Emma sighed. "I don't know. I don't want to get into all the legal stuff yet. I just want her dad to be great and to want to raise her. Every child should feel that love from their parent. Anyway, I guess I'll find out this weekend, and we'll take it from there. How's your work going? Have you put your plan of slowing down your life into motion?"

  "Not yet, but I'm about to. I'm heading up to the mountains on Monday."

  "For skiing?"

  "Yes, and also for a science and technology conference."

  Emma gave him a frown. "Ian, that is not a vacation; that's work."

  "It's a little of both."

  "I hope so. You know what that Irish professor told you about letting ambition overwhelm your personal life."

  "I do, and I agree in principle. I actually just got the journals Professor Donelan had promised to send me when we spoke this summer. I'm excited to see what kind of science our great-grandfather was interested in when he was alive."

  "Grandma will be happy about that. You should tell her."

  "I will. Is she here?"

  "In the den. She's having an okay day; she's a little tired. To be honest, I think she's depressed about Maeve's condition. They grew up like sisters and being back in Ireland with her a few months ago made her feel closer to her again. Now, she's feeling the sadness and pain of Maeve's illness."

  "I'll go say hello."

  "I'll catch up with you later."

  As Emma disappeared into the other room, his older brother Dylan approached and gave him a slap on the back. Like most of the Callaway men, Dylan had dark hair and blue eyes, same as Ian. Dylan was stockier in build, however, and while Ian prided himself on being fit, Dylan probably had a few notches on him in that department, too. But then Dylan spent his days as an active firefighter, while he had to get to a gym and an elliptical to get his heart rate up.

  "Glad you made it," Dylan said. "It's been awhile."

  He nodded, noting the weariness in his brother's eyes. "You look tired."

  "Just got off a shift," Dylan replied, running a hand through his hair.

  "Busy night?"

  "Extremely. I'll catch up on my sleep during my upcoming turkey coma," he joked. "And don't give me some scientific reason why turkey doesn't cause sleepiness. I don't want to hear it. You already ruined Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny for me."

  He was very aware that he'd ruined a lot of his siblings' beliefs with unwanted scientific evidence. It had taken him a long time to learn how to shut up and let them believe what they wanted to. "You were at least seven before I told you the truth about Santa," he said. "Well past the age where you needed to believe in an old man with a belly full of jelly and a sack full of presents."

  Dylan grinned. "So are you killing any woman's dreams these days?"

  "Not in some time," he said dryly. "Too busy to date."

  "Too busy for sex? Seriously?"

  "I didn't say sex; I said dating."

  "If those two aren't the same, you're doing it wrong. By the way, I'm heading down to Newport Beach on Saturday. I'm meeting up with Jeff. Any chance you want to come along?"

  Jeff had been Dylan's best friend growing up and had spent a lot of time at their house. "That sounds fun, but I'm going to Tahoe on Monday for a conference."

  "Now, that doesn't sound fun," Dylan teased. "Don't you ever relax, Ian?"

  The question was becoming a popular refrain among his family members. "I'm going to hit the slopes while I'm there."

  "I would hope so. You know what you should do?"

  "What?" he asked warily.

  "You should take the Mustang up to Tahoe."

  "The car you've spent the past year restoring? You're volunteering to lend it to me?"

  "When is the last time you drove something other than a slow sedan? Take it up to the mountains, have some fun."

  "There's snow in the forecast."

  "She can handle the snow. There's nothing better for relaxing than a long drive in a fast car."

  He wasn't surprised that was Dylan's viewpoint. His brother had been obsessed with cars since he was five.

  "Seriously," Dylan added. "I won't take no for an answer. Come by tomorrow and get the keys."

  "All right," he said with a shrug. He actually wouldn't mind leaving his car behind. It was due for some maintenance, and he hadn't had time to get it done. He could drop it off at the shop before he headed to Tahoe.

  "Good. Finally, you're willing to take my advice."

  He laughed as his younger brother Hunter came up to join them. Hunter's hair was a lighter shade of brown, and his eyes a lighter blue. As usual, he hadn't considered Thanksgiving an opportunity to wear anything other than faded jeans and a T-shirt.

  "What advice are we talking about?" Hunter asked. "Women? Did Dylan tell you about the groupie who's stalking him?"

  "No," he said, now wondering if there was more behind the shadows in his brother's eyes than work weariness.

  "She's not stalking me," Dylan said with annoyance. "She just brought me cookies as a thank-you for saving her life."

  "And she gave you her phone number." Hunter turned to Ian. "And she's totally hot. Blonde hair, nice rack, legs for days—"

  "Okay, that's enough," Dylan said, giving Hunter a sharp look. "She was the victim of a fire. I don't take advantage of vulnerable women."

  "I was joking. Why are you so touchy?" Hunter asked, giving Dylan a speculative look. "Wait a second, you don't like her, do you?"

  "I'm not touchy; I'm tired. I'm going to get a drink."

  "What's wrong with him?" Ian asked as Dylan took off down the hall.

  "Don't know," Hunter said with a shrug. "But he's been off his game a week now. What's new with you? Did you win a Nobel Prize yet?"

  "Not yet. You bre
ak any bones lately?" Hunter currently held the record in the family, having broken his left arm twice, his right leg, a wrist, some bones in his foot, and a couple of fingers. While one of those injuries had come on the job as a firefighter, the rest had come from his physically adventurous off-duty activities like helicopter skiing and rock climbing.

  "Not one. I'm in a dry spell," Hunter joked. "Too much work, not enough play."

  "Ian," his mother Sharon said, interrupting them with a happy smile. A short redhead with a warm and sparkling smile, his mom had always lit up a room. She gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Now I'm happy. All my kids are home."

  "I haven't seen Annie yet," he said.

  "She just got here. She's outside, I think. I want to talk to you, Ian. It's been some time since we've had a one-on-one chat."

  By the determined gleam in her eye, he had a feeling that chat was going to include some strong words about taking a day off and calling home more often.

  "I think you're in trouble," Hunter joked. "She's looking at you like she did when you used her crystal wine glasses to run a science experiment."

  "He's not in trouble," Sharon said, her gaze narrowing on his face. "At least I hope not, but we do need to catch up."

  "I'd love to do that."

  "Good. But it will have to wait," his mother continued. "It's time for dinner. The dining room is for the older generation. You can both grab seats at the tables in the den or on the back patio."

  "We're still at the kids' table?" Hunter complained. "It's not so bad for me, Mom, but Ian is an old man."

  "I'm one year older than you."

  "Feels like a lot more." Hunter grinned back at him. "Let's go find seats closest to the buffet table."

  "You got it."

  As they entered the den, he saw his cousins picking seats at various tables. There were a lot of couples now and kids, too. It felt strange to still be very single even though he had Dylan and Hunter to hang with, and Annie, too. But seeing the former rebel of the family, Aiden, with a wife and two kids made him realize how quickly time was passing. He'd put his work before everything else and it was going well, but one of these days he might want to have a personal life. He might not want to end up like Seamus Donelan who'd lost his wife and two daughters to ambition. It was just hard to stop doing what he knew how to do to explore a personal relationship. He'd always been better with facts than feelings. But his IQ was off the charts. He could figure out how to do both, couldn't he?

  Two

  The kids were tired and cranky. As Grace O'Malley surveyed her second grade class a little before three on Monday afternoon, she was thrilled to see the minutes ticking away toward the three o'clock bell. While theoretically the children should have been recharged after the Thanksgiving holiday, most of them had eaten too much sugar and not gotten enough sleep, thereby making for a rough Monday. The fact that the weather outside was also dark and gloomy with a big snowstorm in the forecast didn't help.

  "So, tomorrow," she said, holding up a kid's book in her hand, "we're going to be reading Madeline's Christmas Miracle together and talking about our holiday plans. I also want you to come in with a couple of ideas for projects you might like to do for the school-wide science fair next week. It's going to be a lot of fun." She gave them all a smile. "Everyone get some good sleep tonight and come back tomorrow rested and ready to work. Okay?"

  Some of the kids nodded; a few yawned. She took that as a win.

  The bell rang, and with a sudden burst of renewed energy, the children jumped up and bolted from the room. Only one lingered behind, seven-year-old Tyler Stark. Tyler's mother, Carrie, was a fifth-grade teacher at the school and one of Grace's best friends. Tyler often stayed after school to help her straighten up the classroom until his mom was ready to go home, which was usually closer to half-past three.

  Grace liked Tyler a lot. He was an eager, intelligent, curious child with blond hair and hazel eyes. He loved to read and often begged her for one of the books from the classroom to take home with him.

  "Can I read Madeline's Christmas Miracle tonight and bring it in tomorrow?" he asked eagerly. "I promise I won't forget. I really want to read it."

  "We'll all read it together tomorrow."

  "But it's good practice," he reminded her.

  "You can take one of the other books home if you want."

  "I want that one," he said, a stubborn glint in his eyes. "I need to read that one."

  She was a little surprised by his vehemence. He was such a good-natured kid; she didn't understand his unexpected tone of desperation. "Is something wrong?"

  He stared back at her, then slowly shook his head, which wasn't at all convincing.

  "Tyler?" she prodded.

  Before he could answer, the door opened and Tyler's mom Carrie walked in. A tall, willowy blonde, Carrie looked unusually pale and stressed. Now, she was worried about Carrie, too.

  "Everything okay?" she asked quietly.

  "Sure," Carrie said, a stressed note in her voice. "Tyler, honey, I need to talk to Grace alone for a minute. We'll be right outside, okay?"

  "Okay," Tyler said.

  Grace followed Carrie into the hall, feeling very uneasy. "What's going on?"

  Carrie drew in a breath. "I just got a call from Kevin's commanding officer. His unit was ambushed."

  "Oh, no," she said, horrified at the news. Carrie's husband Kevin was in the Army.

  "Kevin was injured. He's alive, but his condition is serious. He's being flown to the base in Germany. I don't know any more details than that. I have to get to him as soon as I can."

  "Of course you do."

  "I checked on flights. I can get on a plane leaving from Reno at seven tonight. I should be able to beat the storm. But I can't take Tyler with me, and my parents are in Florida until Christmas. I don't have anyone to watch Tyler."

  "I'll watch him," she said immediately.

  "Are you sure? I don't know how long I'll be gone."

  "It doesn't matter. I'm happy to do it. You need to be with your husband."

  Relief flooded her eyes. "Thank you. I have to tell Tyler I'm leaving, but I don't know what to say. He's been worrying all weekend about whether his dad will make it home for Christmas. It's been a long year, Grace. Now this…" She battled against tears. "I have to hold it together."

  "You will." She gave Carrie a hug. "And don't worry about Tyler. We are best buds. We'll be fine."

  "He does love you a lot."

  "I'm crazy about him, too." She opened the classroom door, and they walked back inside.

  "I have to go away for a few days," Carrie told her son, putting on a happy face for him.

  "Can I come?" Tyler asked quickly.

  Carrie shook her head. "No, I'm sorry, honey, not on this trip."

  "Why do you have to leave?" Tyler whined. "Are you going to be gone as long as Daddy?"

  "No, just a few days, and then I'll be back. While I'm away, you're going to stay with Grace, okay?"

  "Okay. But will you and Daddy be back before Christmas?"

  Grace's heart broke at the plea in his voice. She could see Carrie trying hard not to cry.

  "I will definitely be here for Christmas," Carrie said, giving him a hug.

  "What about Daddy?"

  "We'll have to see. I know he wants to be," Carrie said, avoiding a promise she might not be able to keep. "You'll be good for Grace, won't you?"

  Tyler nodded, but there was more worry in his eyes now.

  "Good." Carrie looked at Grace. "I'll take him home, pack a bag and then drop him off at your house. It will be easier for you to be in your own place."

  "I could come over to your house," she offered.

  "No, it's fine. I'll bring him by in about an hour, okay?"

  "That's perfect. I'll make dinner for us." She looked at Tyler's unhappy face and could see the storm clouds gathering in his eyes. "So, Ty, maybe you and I can read Madeline's Christmas Miracle tonight."

  He perked up at he
r words. "We don't have to wait until tomorrow?"

  "Don't tell anyone, but we'll get a head start."

  His smile made her feel better. She didn't know how long she could keep a smile on his face, but she would try as hard as she could to make it last as long as possible.

  After Carrie and Tyler left, she quickly straightened her classroom and then headed into the parking lot.

  Whitmore Elementary School was located in South Lake Tahoe on the California side of the lake. Surrounded by tall, towering ponderosa pines, with the magnificent Sierra Nevada Mountains behind the building and a view of the lake from the front, the school was one of the prettiest she'd taught at. She'd been there for three years, having moved to the mountains from San Francisco. She'd never been a city girl, and Tahoe suited her far better than the busy streets of San Francisco.

  On her way to the small one-story house on a hill she rented off Pioneer Trail, she stopped at the supermarket and picked up extra food and snacks for her and Tyler. She'd just set her grocery bags on the kitchen counter when the doorbell rang.

  She opened the door, expecting to see Carrie and Tyler on her doorstep, but it was a man, a very attractive man with dark-brown hair and striking blue eyes. He wore black jeans that hugged his lean legs and a black wool coat over a dark-blue sweater. There was a package in his hands and a question in his eyes.

  "Are you Grace O'Malley?" he asked in a husky male voice that for some reason sent a shiver down her spine.

  She didn't know why she was tempted to say no, but some instinct of self-preservation told her the question was more important than she knew. Still, she found it difficult to lie. "I am. Who are you?"

  "Ian Callaway. I have something for you from your father."

  Now she knew why she'd suddenly felt uneasy. Even from here, she could see the return address for Waterford, Ireland. She hadn't been back to Ireland in over a decade, and she hadn't seen or talked to her father since then.