Having Faith

Title Page

Copyright Page

Having Faith (Callaghan Brothers, #7)

Before You Begin

Acknowledgements

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Epilogue

IT’S NOT OVER!

Thanks for reading Kieran and Faith’s story

About the Author

Also by Abbie Zanders

Having Faith

(Callaghan Brothers, Book 7)

W
ARNING:  Due to frequent strong language and graphic scenes of a sexual nature, this book is intended for mature (21+) readers only. 

If these things offend you, then this book is not for you. 

If, however, you like your alphas a little rough around the edges and some serious heat in your romance, then by all means, read on...

S
pecial thanks to Aubrey Rose Cover Designs for this amazing cover!

Special thanks also go to some very special ladies – Deb B., Anjee Z., Shelly S., Carol T., Tonya B., Susan J., Perryne D., Carla S., and Shayne R (and a few of you who prefer to remain unnamed – you know who you are) - for reading the first draft and making invaluable suggestions.  This is a better story because of them. 

“I
take it your date didn’t go so well last night,” Maggie Callaghan said with genuine empathy.  She piled yet another scoop of vanilla ice cream onto Kieran’s slice of apple pie and flicked a glance at him with those swirling green eyes. 

“It went well enough,” he answered with a lazy shrug.  And it had.  It had gone like every other date he’d had in the last six months.  Nice.  Normal.

The problem was, there was very little that was normal about Kieran or any of the men in his family.  They were a strong bunch steeped in strength, loyalty, and honor.  Highly skilled in weaponry and combat, they comprised their own special off-the-books ops team, and were often called to undertake the missions no one else wanted.  Everyone in the small, sleepy town of Pine Ridge, Pennsylvania knew the rumors, of course; but only a privileged few knew the truth.

Maggie raised her eyebrows expectantly, so he continued.  “I took her to see that new movie everyone’s been talking about, then a late dinner.  It was nice.”

Maggie snorted softly.  “Nice, huh?  Callaghan boys have about as much use of “nice” as I do a rat infestation in my cold cellar.”

“Yeah.”  Kieran gave her a crooked, boyish grin.  Maggie understood.  She always got it. 

As normal as they tried to appear to the rest of the world, they needed more to retain their mercurial interest past a few hours, days at the most.  They needed women who embodied the spirit of their hearts – their
croies
.  Anything less held only temporary satisfaction. 

Unfortunately, Kieran hadn’t found his yet.

All six of his older brothers had found their
croies
, or soul mates; he alone remained single and unattached.  At six-foot-five, with two hundred and seventy five pounds of rippling muscle, blue-black hair and icy blue eyes – and the owner/operator of the hugely successful
BodyWorks
Fitness Center - he was quite the eligible bachelor.  It seemed that every single woman – and even some not so single – wanted their chance to snag the last remaining Callaghan, to find themselves in the inner circle of the wealthy, powerful clan.  While flattering, it was also disappointing. 

So far, none had been successful in capturing his heart and soul, and Kieran was feeling restless.  After seeing the kind of bond his brothers had with their wives, he couldn’t help but hope he would be as fortunate.  He wanted a woman who loved him because she couldn’t help herself, not because of his business, his family name, or social status.

“You have to have faith, Kieran,” she told him with an enigmatic smile that sent a shiver of foreboding through him.  “Your time will come.” 

“Something you’re not telling me, Mags?” he asked suspiciously, the fork suspended midway between the plate and his mouth.  Besides being the one they all went to when they needed a place to unload, Maggie Callaghan was also known for her frequent flashes of prophetic insight.  Though she routinely denied having any such ability, every one of them had witnessed the strange phenomenon – her emerald green eyes would gloss over and begin to swirl like there was a tempest within.  Kind of like they were doing right now.  Before he could call her on it, though, the swirling clouds stilled and her eyes were back to normal.

“Well,” she said, her infectious grin growing to epic proportions as she set down the pot and sat down at the table with him.  She leaned forward conspiratorially and whispered loudly, “I’m pregnant.”

“Jesus!  That’s great, Mags!” Kieran said excitedly, reaching over to wrap a bear hug around her much smaller frame.  “Mick didn’t say a word.”

Maggie’s face flushed a pretty rose color.  The moment he eased up on his steel-like embrace she rose and scooted back over to the stove.  Kieran’s eyes narrowed, immediately suspicious.  “You didn’t tell him, did you?” he accused softly.

“I made some fresh strawberry cream pie,” she responded, ignoring his question.  “Even with the Goddess buying most everything I still have more than I know what to do with.  I’ll get you a slice.”

The Celtic Goddess was a high-end restaurant run by their sister-in-law, renowned chef Lexi Kattapoulos Callaghan.  Several years earlier they had contracted with Maggie’s farm to produce the bulk of organic produce used in their one-of-a-kind menu offerings.  Thus far the acquisition had been a highly successful and lucrative arrangement for all involved. 

“Maggie.”

“And I whipped up some fresh cream, too,” she added, pretending she hadn’t heard him.  “Nothing beats fresh-whipped.”

“Maggie.”

“Or I’ve got some blueberry crumble still warm.  We got a huge crop of the early ones this year...”

“
Maggie
.”  Every one of them – his six older brothers and their wives - knew that Maggie baked like a fiend when she was nervous or excited.  He glanced over at the huge tubs of freshly made cookies and the tray of homemade cinnamon rolls she’d just extracted from the oven.  Maggie wasn’t just anxious.  She was in full-on panic mode.

“You sound just like Michael when you say it like that,” she told him.  If he didn’t know her better he would swear she was pouting.

“Why haven’t you told him?”  His older brother Michael worshipped the ground his wife walked on, and loved their son Ryan as much as any father could.  Kieran couldn’t imagine him being anything less than ecstatic over the news.

She shrugged.  A few more tendrils of dark cherry-cola colored hair escaped the clip with which she’d attempted to contain them, cascading around her face, coming to rest on the shoulder straps of the worn and faded full frontal apron that had once been her great-grandmother’s.  He’d been so absorbed in his own worries he hadn’t paid her appearance much attention.  Now that he looked closer, he could see that her skin was a bit paler than usual, and there were dark shadows beneath her eyes. 

“He’s going to figure something’s up, Mags,” Kieran said, looking pointedly around at all the treats.

“Yes,” she agreed, drawing the word out slowly as she fixed him with big green eyes.  “About that...you need to take all this back to the Pub with you.  Or better yet, take it over to Lacie’s.  Her brother Brian loves this stuff, and heaven knows he could use the extra calories more than I can.”

Kieran’s brows knit together, at least as much as they could on his smooth, boyish face.  At twenty-eight, he could have passed for much younger.  “You want me to lie to my brother?”

“No, of course not,” she said irritably.  “I’m just asking you to not say anything just yet.”  He didn’t miss the flash of hurt in her eyes, and felt a pang of remorse for suggesting such a thing.   

She paused, and he could practically see the wheels turning.  “Think of it like a ‘need to know’ type thing, and Michael just doesn’t need to know yet.” 

Kieran’s frown increased, prompting Maggie to add, “It’s just, well, you know how he worries over the slightest things...”

It was true.  Michael did worry.  Like all of the Callaghan men, he was especially protective of his wife – the one who had captured not only his heart but also his mind and soul.  And, given Maggie’s nearly pathological fear of traditional medicine, Michael’s concerns were often valid ones.  In her stubborn avoidance of all such things, she often did not seek treatment of what she considered minor injuries, much to the chagrin of her husband and sometimes to the detriment of her health. 

They understood why she felt the way she did.  Poor medical care had cost Maggie not only her parents but also resulted in her spending a good part of her childhood in the hospital.  It was her grandmother, skilled with homeopathic remedies, who had taken her in and given her a normal childhood.  Her husband, a doctor himself, was slowly working on building her trust. 

“Does he have anything he should be worried about, Mags?” he asked.  Michael was his brother by blood, but Maggie was a cherished sister as well.  And Kieran had a very strong sense of family.  Her health and well-being was every bit as important to him as his brothers’.

She bit her lip, her hesitation just a little too pronounced to stem the unease he felt building in his gut.  He had been feeling it all day.  Up till that point he’d assumed it had something to do with the funk he’d been in lately, but maybe it was more than that.  His brothers all shared a sixth sense, instinctively knowing when one of them was in trouble.  Their wives were such a part of them, fitting so seamlessly into their family, that it made sense such feelings would eventually extend to them as well.

“Everything is fine.  I’m sure of it,” she said.  But she didn’t actually believe that, and Maggie was quite possibly one of the worst liars on the planet.  If he hadn’t already figured that out, the unshed tears building in her eyes and her trembling bottom lip would have clued him in.

“Ah, Maggie.”  Kieran went over to where she stood at the counter, wrapping his arms around her.  She virtually disappeared in his embrace.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffed into his shirt, hugging him as if he was a cherished, albeit supersized, teddy bear.  “I shouldn’t have said anything.  I didn’t mean to put you in the middle.  I just needed to tell someone...”

“Tell someone what?” Michael’s deep voice reverberated through the kitchen, shooting his brother a questioning look. 

Startled, Maggie backed away from Kieran, dropping the dish she’d had in her hand.

Kieran exchanged a brief glance with Michael as Maggie swore softly and bent to pick up the pieces.  He kept his expression carefully neutral, but Michael’s eyes narrowed.  The very fact that his face gave away nothing probably told his brother everything he needed to know.

“Maggie,” Michael said gently, kneeling beside her to take the broken ceramic from her hands.  “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” she mumbled unconvincingly.

Michael stood and turned to his youngest brother.  “Kieran?  Have you done something to upset my wife?”

Kieran shifted uncomfortably under his older brother’s steady gaze, unwilling to lie but not wanting to rat Maggie out.  As it turned out, he didn’t have to do either.  Michael’s question brought some of the fire back into Maggie’s eyes.  She was fiercely protective of her family, and that included Kieran. 

“Of course he didn’t,” she snapped, placing herself in front of Kieran.  “You know, for such a smart man you can be such a donkey’s backside.”

One of Michael’s dark brows formed a perfect arch over his luminous blue eyes.  ”A donkey’s backside?”  Kieran turned away in an attempt to stem the bark of laughter currently trying to escape.

“Aye,” she said, and it was a sign that she was gearing up for something.  Whenever Maggie got that slight hint of Irish brogue in her voice, everyone knew enough to brace for battle.