Having Faith (3 page)

“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.”

* * *

“H
ow 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.

* * *

A
fter 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.

* * *

F
aith 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 breath.  “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?”

Maggie’s tongue unconsciously peeked out and licked along her upper lips.  Reese’s peanut butter cups were her greatest weakness, and he knew it, the shameless devil.  He must really feel bad, she thought, trying to ignore the heavenly scent of milk chocolate mixed with peanut butter.

Without waiting for her to answer, he extracted another and unwrapped it, placing it on the table and nudging it toward her while looking at her through half-lidded, cautious eyes, as if he wasn’t really looking at her at all.  After a moment or two of indecision – pride vs. desire – desire won out and she snapped it up, giving him a defiant look.

Kieran smiled, and she felt the impact all the way down into her toes.  God help her if her son inherited this quality, too.  She’d be beating the girls off with a stick in a few years.

* * *

“M
ick says everything’s good,” he said conversationally, pulling out another peanut butter cup for himself.

“I told you everything was fine,” she snapped, but there was no bite in her tone, and he knew he was in her good graces again.  He’d take an ‘I told you so’ over bad news any day.

“Yes, you did,” he agreed.  The next piece went to her.  “But you know Mick, how he worries.”  He didn’t mention that she had been worried, too.  The sheer amount of baked goods she’d made attested to that.  Lacie’s mom had taken one look at the massive treat-filled box and promptly forecasted a record in sales at her church’s bake sale the next day.

“Yeah,” she said, softly.  “Thanks, Kier.” 

Before he knew what hit him, Maggie wrapped her arms around him – at least as far as she could – in a hug, even going as far as to place a chaste kiss on his cheek.  “I’ll repay the favor one of these days,” she promised, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

Kieran thought that sounded ominously like a warning, and the unease in his chest flared momentarily. 

Before he had a chance to dwell on it, Shane walked in and spotted them.  He gave Maggie a quick kiss on the cheek and nodded to Kieran.

After passing along Lacie’s thanks for all of the baked goods to Maggie, he turned to Kieran.  “Hey.  Did you get a chance to check out that property?” he asked, swiping a Reese’s and grabbing some milk from the fridge.  Kieran filled him in on what he had found.  Shane listened to Kieran’s detailed description on the state of the place.  Maggie sat up, listening intently.

“I agree it is not an optimal situation,” Shane said, frowning slightly, “but she was very specific, Kier.”

“But why?” he asked, rubbing at his chest again.  “I’m telling you, Shane, the place is not fit for human habitation in its current state.”

“Maybe it’s a question of money,” Maggie suggested quietly, causing both men to look at her.  “Well, it just makes sense, doesn’t it?” she asked.  Her eyes dropped to Kieran’s hand and he abruptly stopped rubbing his chest.  He turned to Shane, meeting his eyes, knowing she’d hit the nail on the head. 

Kieran scowled at him.  “Are you kidding me?”

Shane shook his head.  “No.  Maggie’s right.”

“Since when is money more important than people, Shane?” Kieran asked angrily.  “Shit.  It’s not like we need the money.  If she’s that hard up, give her something else at a reduced rate or something.”

Shane shot him a scathing look.  “Don’t you think I tried?  You know better, Kieran.  I offered at least three other places in town.  She refused.  It was the cottage or nothing.  She wouldn’t have even qualified for that if I hadn’t personally co-signed the mortgage application.”

That was unexpected.  “Why would you do that?”

Shane averted his eyes.  “I don’t know.  Just a feeling.”

Kieran felt a little better knowing that his brother didn’t feel right about this either, but there was definitely something else at play here.  He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he felt it.  He looked at Maggie, saw the colors swirling hypnotically in her green eyes.  Then turned his gaze to Shane, and knew that he, too, felt it. 

“You want her in Pine Ridge,” he guessed, knowing even as he spoke the words that they were true.  He felt like a moron.  Of course Shane wouldn’t allow something like this to happen unless there was a damn good reason for it.  “Why?”

Shane exchanged a glance with Maggie, then shrugged.  “I don’t know.  But when her offer came in, I couldn’t put it down, no matter how much I wanted to.” 

Kieran knew better than to push.  He trusted Shane’s instincts implicitly.  Like Kieran, he had a huge knight complex.

“Alright,” he nodded slowly.  “I don’t like it, but if you say there’s something there...”

“There is,” Shane confirmed, but offered no more.

“We’ll keep a close eye on this one, though, yeah?”

Shane smiled.  “I was hoping you’d say that.  Maybe we can head up there tomorrow, work a little magic before she arrives?”   

Kieran nodded and agreed, feeling considerably better.  He already had a mental list of things started as he began to plan a trip to the local home improvement store.

Maggie smiled enigmatically, plucking another Reese’s from the table.  “It will all work out.  Like I said, Kieran, you just have to have
faith
.”