6. Chapter Six
MATT
It was good to be home. To be surrounded by people who had been such an integral part of his life.
Matt had been hugged and kissed. Plied with a veritable feast of his favorite foods. Touched and teased and hugged and kissed some more. He received a steady stream of updates on people and places and things, told with great enthusiasm. At some point, he stopped trying to keep up and sat back, soaking it all in. So much had happened that the few years he’d been away felt more like a lifetime.
The next generation of Callaghans was coming of age, and he was somewhere in the middle. Too young to be part of the older generation. Too old to be included among the young. It was a weird place to be. Although Kieran did mention a newly discovered cousin who was around Matt’s age, give or take a few years. That was something.
He could look up some of his old friends while he was in town, too, but that didn’t hold much appeal. They’d lost touch when they went their separate ways after graduation, and there didn’t seem much point in rekindling old friendships now. Same with old girlfriends, although there was a whole other level of not going there with that. After the things he’d seen, the things he’d had to do, he was going to be as celibate as Father Francis this summer.
As the initial excitement waned to something less frenetic but no less warm, Kieran skillfully ushered the others off for baths, homework, and nightly bedtime routines. Matt found himself alone with his mother, sitting before the glow of the fireplace—one of those upgrades they’d made over the years. The peace, the normalcy of it, was a welcome, if temporary, break.
Faith sat on the sofa with her legs tucked up beneath her, a mug of hot cocoa in her hands. She still looked young for her age. When Matt had been fourteen and she’d been twenty-nine, they’d often be mistaken for brother and sister instead of mother and son. They probably still could.
“How are you really?” Faith asked. Her gray eyes, the same ones he’d inherited, held so much understanding and knowledge that it made his chest constrict. She didn’t know exactly what his job entailed, but she was a smart woman, and she could always see through his bullshit.
“I’m okay,” he assured her, sipping his Macallan 18—which was, admittedly, a nice perk of being a part of a family that owned an Irish pub.
She dropped her gaze to her cocoa, as if she knew that the truth was so much more complicated than that, but also knew that he could say nothing more. Matt wondered if Kieran had prepped her with gentle reminders not to ask for specifics. As a former SEAL, Kieran knew he wouldn’t be able to answer her questions.
She nodded. “I know you just got here, but … have you given any thought to what comes next?”
He’d been waiting for the question.
“Quite a lot,” he said honestly.
“And?” she prompted softly when he said nothing.
“I’m considering my options,” he said carefully. He only had two—stay or go. He could walk away from the military and reenter civilian life. Or he could accept the offer that had been extended to him and likely never see his family again.
On the surface, it seemed like a no-brainer, but it wasn’t that easy. He wasn’t the same wet-behind-the-ears kid who had left Pine Ridge and enlisted. He loved his family and had missed the idyllic valley that had become his home, but the truth was, he wasn’t sure if he belonged anymore.
What would he do if he stayed? Work at BodyWorks with Kieran? Tend bar at the pub?
Yeah, he had skills, but none that were likely to be of use in Pine Ridge.
The truth was, he didn’t think he could walk away from the service even if he wanted to. He liked what he did. Craved the adrenaline that came with a mission. The sense of purpose that came from achieving an objective. The absolute rush of knowing he was one of the best in a very elite, very specialized group. He couldn’t comprehend how anyone could go from life in the special forces back to a mundane existence and not lose their mind.
He couldn’t share any of that with his mother though. It would break her heart.
He gave her the most honest answer he could. “Now, I’m going to do what I’ve been dreaming of for the last two years. I’m going to sleep in a soft bed, spend time with my family, and gorge myself on your phenomenal cooking.”
She smiled, but there was sadness in her eyes, as if she knew their time together was limited.
Time to change the subject.
“Remember when we first moved in?”
That did it. Her features eased, and she laughed softly. “Oh, yes. I remember. Sleeping bags on the dusty floor. Cokes and hoagies for dinner.”
The fire crackled in the hearth, surrounding them in warmth and providing background noise as they reminisced. From the moment they’d crested that final ridge and descended into the valley, this place had felt like home. Like they’d find all the answers here.
They had. They’d set down roots. His mother found a man who loved her more than life itself, and Matt had gotten a father and a large family of good men and women who supported and loved them. For a long time, Matt had been afraid to accept it, believing it too good to be true. But here they were, better than ever, with more than they’d ever dreamed.
He should be satisfied with that, right?
“What are you thinking about right now?” Faith asked, her head tilted, pulling him out of his own thoughts.
“The hours and hours of brutal physical labor,” he said, shifting his thoughts back to those early days.
The house had been in bad shape, and it had seemed as if there was no end to the cleaning, scrubbing, sanding, and repairs. They wouldn’t have been able to accomplish a fraction of it without the help of the Callaghans. Their free labor. Their cool tools. The supplies they’d passed off as leftovers from the pub renovations to make Faith and Matt feel like less of a charity case.
Another laugh. “It was worth it though, wasn’t it?”
“One hundred percent.” He paused, letting the nostalgia wash over him.
They’d been so busy then. In addition to trying to turn the cottage into a real home, Faith had had her job, cleaning rooms at the Celtic Goddess resort, and he’d earned his own money by mowing lawns and shoveling snow. Which reminded him of their elderly neighbor.
“Remember how Mrs. Campbell used to invite us to those summer barbecues?”
“Oh, yes. She was always trying to play matchmaker.”
“Didn’t she try to set you up with the butcher?”
She laughed. “Yes. Among others.”
“The neighborhood isn’t going to be the same without her.”
“No,” Faith agreed with a sigh. “I imagine it’s only a matter of time now. She is ninety-seven. She told me last week that her grandson wants to put her in assisted living and sell the house.”
Last week? “Wait. You mean she’s still living there?”
“Yes. Why?”
He thought about the face in the window. “Because when we arrived earlier, I saw someone watching us out of Mrs. Campbell’s kitchen window. A young woman.”
“Probably a home health worker. They never last long. Someone new comes every week. That’s part of the problem. She can’t find good help.”
“Is she that bad off?”
“No, not really. She’s pretty self-sufficient, but she uses a wheelchair to get around now and needs help with simple things. The other neighbors and I keep an eye on her. We take her meals and help around the house when we can, but she should have someone there with her full-time.”
“What about her family?”
“Her parents are gone, obviously, and her husband passed a long time ago. I don’t know if she has any brothers or sisters; she’s never mentioned any. Her son and his wife died a while back. There’s her grandson, Eddie, I guess. He moved from the West Coast a year or so ago.”
No wonder Mrs. Campbell was always in everyone else’s business. She had none of her own.
“Speaking of Mrs. Campbell, I was planning on taking some of that stew over one day this week. Would you like to come with me? I’m sure she’d love to see you.”
“Sure,” he answered. “Why not?”