A Callahan Carol (4 page)

A wry smile touched Luke’s lips as he let the fishing lure fly. “Christmas, when I was nine. It was so great, Red.”

“Tell me about it.”

Luke’s grin turned wistful. He slowly cranked the fishing reel and pulled his line in. “John still believed in Santa. One of the neighborhood kids had told him Santa wasn’t real, so Dad came up with this elaborate plan to prove to him that Santa existed, and he enlisted the rest of the family’s help. Mom sewed a pair of Santa pants that were fancier than any costume you could buy in Brazos Bend and my dad tracked down the perfect pair of black boots.

Matt manned the jingle bells and Mark and I manned the pulley.

Christmas Eve–actually early Christmas morning–we woke John up and tiptoed downstairs and we caught ol’ Kris Kringle going up the chimney. My mom and dad showed up on cue and Branch snapped a picture. John took it school and proved to the entire Kindergarten class that Santa really did exist.”

“That’s funny,” Maddie said. “I can easily imagine Branch doing something like that.”

“John was the hero of Fain Elementary–at least until the next year when that snotty Rhonda Wilson tricked her mother into spilling the beans in front of the cub scouts.”

Maddie sipped her wine and sighed wistfully. “I’m jealous.

We never had Santa Claus at our house, not even before my mother died. Savannah didn’t believe in lying to children and Blade wouldn’t tell her no for anything.”

“You never had Santa? You never told me that before.”

Luke set down his fishing pole. He reached out, clasped her hand, and brought it to his mouth to press a kiss against her palm. “I’m sorry, Red. No wonder you’ve worked so hard to make Christmas special for our girls.”

She shrugged. “I’ve worked to make Christmas special for all of us.”

A touch of bitterness entered Luke’s tone. “For all the good that will do us this year.”

“Now, Luke.”

He raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m just so angry at Branch. There, I said it. My father is dying and I’m mad enough to spit nails at him. What does that make me?”

“Human?” his wife suggested and handed him his wine.

“It’s easy for you to be angry at your father. After all, you’ve had an inordinate amount of practice at it.”

“Isn’t that the truth?” Luke released a heavy sigh. “Dad has lost a lot. I’ll give him that. I know how much it hurts because it hurts me, too. But good things have happened in his life these past few years. Don’t they count? My brothers and I reconciled with Branch. He has daughters-in-law and grandchildren that adore him.

Instead of focusing on who is missing, why can’t he focus on who is here?”

“It’s a disappointment, that’s for sure.”

On his invisible perch, Branch frowned.

“I should have called him on the whole cancel Christmas thing when he started it,” Luke continued. “It was stupid and childish and little more than a temper tantrum. We tiptoed around it for too long because we knew what was behind it.”

“He gave up on ever finding John.”

Luke turned away from his wife and stared out over the lake, his posture stiff and forbidding. A long minute of silence dragged out and gave Branch the impression that they hadn’t discussed John or his whereabouts in quite some time.

Finally, Luke said, “Yes, he lost faith that we’d ever find John.”

Maddie set down her wine glass and stepped forward, wrapping her arms around her husband. “And what about you, Luke? Have you lost your faith, too?”

This time his silence lasted twice as long, but when he spoke, his voice rang with conviction. “No, I haven’t. It might be hanging on by a thread, but I have to believe that someday my little brother will come home. And you know what? That’s precisely why I thought it was so important to put up the Wonderland. It’s a Callahan family tradition. We didn’t have many of those after Mom died, but Branch did continue the Wonderland. He said it was a tribute to her because she loved it so much, and that he knew in his heart that she’d be looking down on it from heaven and smiling.”

“That’s lovely.”

“It stayed with me. All those years I was away from Brazos Bend, I found a certain comfort in knowing that every December, the front yard at Callahan House was alive with the spirit of Christmas.” He slowly shook his head. “Silly, isn’t it?”

“Not at all.”

A small wave rolled up to the Misbehavin’ III and splashed against the hull. The boat rocked gently. Luke inhaled a deep breath, then exhaled in a rush. “Must be all you can eat catfish night at Bass Hollow. Sure smells good.”

“Are you hungry? We still have two hours before I promised the babysitter we’d be back.”

“Nah. I couldn’t eat. Unless, you want some?”

“No.”

Luke lifted his gaze to the star-filled winter night. “You know, Maddie, if my father dies under these circumstances, we’ll never be able to put up the Wonderland display again. Not at Callahan House.”

“Why don’t we cross that bridge if and when we come to it.”

Continuing as if he had not heard her, he added, “Maybe we can donate it to the town. They can put it up at city hall or something next Christmas.”

“Stop it. Don’t jump the gun, honey. Next Christmas is a long time away. We have to get through this one first.”

“No kidding.”

Maddie hugged him hard, then rested her head against him, offering him her support. “Luke, you know it’s not your fault, right?”

He remained stubbornly silent.

She released him, took a step back, and punched him firmly in the kidneys. “Listen to me, Callahan. You are not responsible for Branch’s illness.”

“Ow.” He grimaced and turned around. “I know, Red. In my head I know, but in my heart . . .” He shrugged.

“If the worst happens–if we lose Branch, if you never find John–we’ll deal with it. Callahans are strong people. Your Christmas Wonderland will survive. Your traditions will survive.

You won’t be like your father, Luke.”

“He lost his faith. He lost hope.”

“Yes.”

“But, dammit, he didn’t lose love! How does the Bible quote go? ‘There are three things that last forever: Faith, hope, and love; But the greatest of them is love.’ Why did he turn his back on that?”

“I don’t know that he turned his back on it,” Maddie replied. “I think he’s been blinded to it by his pain. Maybe it’s time that his pain came to an end.”

“I don’t want to lose him.”

“I know, baby. Neither do I. And who knows, maybe we won’t lose him. Maybe he’ll rally.”

“Maybe.” He turned and took her in his arms. “After all, this is Christmas, right? The season of miracles.”

“That’s right. I believe that miracles do happen.”

“Me, too.” As Luke dipped his head to kiss her, he murmured, “After all, I have you.”

In that instant, Branch found himself back astride the Gold Wing, breezing down the streets of Brazos Bend.

He rubbed his chest where his heart ached. The too-familiar sensation angered him, so he snapped into the motorcycle helmet’s microphone. “So what was that all about? The Ghosts of Christmas Present? Was it supposed to be some monumental lesson for me?

Are you going to trade in your white leather for black and take me to see my grave next?”

“No, I don’t have time for that. Besides, Charles Dickens had it wrong. We don’t do it that way. Seeing the future would be cheating.”

Something in her voice gave him pause. “Just who are ‘we’?”

Celeste waved the question away. Suddenly, they were pulling into the highway rest stop on the road leading out of town.

She braked to a stop, switched off the motor, climbed off the bike and removed her helmet. The serious look in her eyes put Branch on guard.

“I’ve shown you all I intend to show you, Branch Callahan.

I hope you’ve recognized the lessons presented to you tonight. The question before us now is how you will choose to respond. You see, the time has come for you to make your choice.”

Warily, Branch asked, “What choice?”

“You have the chance to be part of your sons’ lives, part of the lives of their wives and children. Or . . .” She gestured toward the highway. “You can go.”

“Go?” Branch’s gaze went from her, to the highway, then back to her again. “Go where?”

“That’s not my place to say.”

His teeth tugged at his lower lip. “Do you mean that I get to choose between living and dying?”

“You’ve been choosing to die for some time now, haven’t you? Tonight is your last chance to change your mind. So what will it be, Branch Callahan? Are you going to stay around for awhile or are you ready to go?”

Matt Callahan set his jaw and braced himself for bad news as he waited for the nurse to complete his father’s examination.

Branch’s breathing was shallow, his complexion pale. He lay as still as death itself.

Lifting his gaze from his father’s still form, Matt focused on the nurse, an older woman with lovely blue eyes and a soothing disposition. The tension inside him eased just a little. He couldn’t put his finger on why or how, but something about Celeste Blessing simply made him and his brothers feel better.

For that alone he was glad that the kids had gone looking for a miracle and found Celeste Blessing. The fact that she’d given his former boss at the Agency, Jack Davenport, as a reference and he’d advised Matt to accept her help had made the decision to bring her into Callahan House to help a snap–even if she wasn’t technically a nurse. She called herself a facilitator of healing. Jack had been more to the point: “She’s a miracle worker, Matt. If she’s willing to go to Brazos Bend, then you need to let her do it.”

Matt watched as she straightened, removed the stethoscope from her ears, and tugged the covers back over Branch Callahan’s shoulders. She gave his chest a little pat right over his heart. None too gently, Matt observed. Was she trying to wake it up or something? Unable to remain silent a moment longer, he asked, “Well?”

She offered him a tender, compassionate smile. “I think the time has come for you to gather your family around, Matthew.”

“Oh.” He lifted his hand and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Okay. Yeah. I’ll call them.”

Matt blew out a heavy breath, then exited his father’s bedroom and pulled the door shut behind him. The master suite had been added on to the back of Callahan House when stairs became too big a problem for Branch, and as Matt took two steps toward the main part of the house, it hit him. Branch Callahan was dying.

His world started spinning. As he reached for the wall to steady himself, a pair of loving arms wrapped around his waist and steadied him. “You okay, hon?” his wife asked.

“Yeah. No.” His arms closed around Torie; he closed his eyes and held her tight. His wife was no bigger than a minute, but she filled up the yawning hole inside him like nothing else. “Ah, babe. He’s dying. I thought I was prepared for this, but I’m not.”

“I know. I doubt anyone ever is.”

His throat grew tight and as pressure built behind his eyes.

“She told me to call the family.”

Torie pulled herself out of his arms and took a step backward. She lifted her arms, took his face in her hands, and stared up at him with watery eyes. “You are a man of great strength, Matt Callahan, and you will get through this.
We
will get through this. Together, as a family.”

He swallowed hard. “I know. I just wish we had a little more time. I wish it wasn’t happening now, at Christmas. The kids.

. . .”

“The kids will deal,” Torie responded. “After all, they’re Callahans.”

Arm in arm, Matt and Torie walked to the study where Matt tackled the difficult task of summoning his brothers to Callahan House for a death vigil.

#

Mark was making a diaper run to the drugstore when his cell phone rang. Spying his brother’s number, knowing that Matt was on sickbed rotation at Callahan House, his stomach sank to his knees. This wouldn’t be good news.

It wasn’t.

He made a quick call to Annabelle. They decided she and the kids would meet him at Branch’s. At the checkout, he handed his cash over with trembling fingers. Moments later, he climbed inside the cab of his pickup and realized his heart was pounding as if he’d just finished a ten-mile run.

Mark had been angry at Branch for more years than he could remember. He’d resented the way his father had broken up the family after his mother died, and he’d been furious about how Branch reacted when John was shot and kidnapped off the street in Sarajevo. They’d managed to reconcile in recent years but Mark had never been able to douse the last flickers of resentment in his heart.

He never would have guessed that his father’s pending death would hit him this hard.

He said as much to Annabelle when she met him at the curb in front of Callahan House. She replied, “He’s your father. You love him. Of course you hate the idea of losing him.”

His gaze drifted over the Winter Wonderland displays as he considered the change his father’s passing would have on his family and on Brazos Bend. Branch Callahan was an iconic figure.

He’d fought in Korea and Vietnam, then came home to manage his hardscrabble ranch and bring up the oil that pooled beneath it.

He’d made a fortune during the oil boom and managed not to lose it all when prices crashed. His wife made sure he tithed to their church and supported worthy causes with his wealth. Recently when Mark took over managing Branch’s finances, he discovered that his father had kept up his charity work through the years, even through the worst of times when Mom died and when John disappeared.

“For too long I focused on the fact that he wasn’t perfect and made horribly stupid decisions. I couldn’t recognize his pain because my own blinded me to it. As a result, I’ve wasted a lot of time with him. And now . . .” Mark’s eyes settled on the display featuring the large brown boot of the widow who lived in a shoe rhyme. “Now I mourn that time, those years. I mourn what we could have . . . what we should have . . . had.”

“I know.” Sympathy and concern showed in Annabelle’s big brown eyes. “Nothing is going to fill the hole Branch will leave in this family, but you and your brothers do have a treasure that should ease the pain when you’re ready.”