Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
NOAH
A maelstrom of emotions was coursing through him, vying for dominance, but irritation was at the forefront.
If Teagan believed he could just walk away, then clearly, she didn’t understand how deeply she’d gotten under his skin. Nor did she realize that she was the only person to do so in more years than he cared to admit. He could no more walk away than he could rip out his own heart.
And she felt it too. He’d seen it in those rare, unguarded moments when her eyes softened and the longing shone through. She was just too afraid to hope because everyone else in her life had let her down so spectacularly.
Which was also why he wasn’t going to let the man claiming to be her father be the next person to do so.
He strode far enough down the hall to be out of earshot, then turned to his father, pointedly ignoring the other man. “Okay,” he said, keeping his voice low but tight. “Who exactly is he, and why does he think he’s Teagan’s father?”
“Because he is,” Martin said simply.
Noah’s eyes narrowed. “And you know this how?”
“Because the Callaghans say so. I figured if anyone could identify the Celtic clan crest on that pendant, they could.”
Noah’s gaze flicked to Donal. Donal O’Callaghan. “Wait, you’re saying he’s related to those Callaghans? The ones who run the Irish pub and are rumored to have some kind of off-the-books black ops team?”
“Jack and I have been friends for years,” Martin said, ignoring the part about the covert team rumors. “His boy Ian confirmed the crest is that of the Callaghan clan—or O’Callaghan, as the Irish branch goes by.”
Donal nodded once, his face somber. “The pendant belonged to my mother and her mother before her. I gave it to Maggie before I returned to Ireland.”
The irony wasn’t lost on Noah. Teagan had left the necklace for him, expecting never to see him again.
“Why give it to someone you planned to walk away from?”
Donal’s intense blue eyes sharpened. “My daughter has a right to ask that question. You do not.”
Noah didn’t back down. “Your daughter didn’t even know you existed until a few minutes ago.”
“And I knew nothing of her until yesterday,” Donal said, his voice low and deliberate. “Yet here I stand.”
Noah dragged a hand over his jaw. If the man truly hadn’t known, he couldn’t fault him for not being there, no matter how badly he wanted to blame someone for Teagan’s shit childhood. “How did you get here so fast?”
Martin’s mouth curved faintly. “Let’s just say, when the Callaghans decide to find someone, they find them fast. They had Donal stateside less than twelve hours after I talked to Jack.”
Well, that tracked with what he knew of the Irish brothers. Jack Callaghan had been one of the first SEALs, and each of his seven sons had followed in his footsteps. That mindset didn’t stop simply because their tours were up.
Noah looked toward the closed door, the knot in his gut tightening. “Do you think this is the best time to hit her with something like this? She’s been through so much.”
“I know, son,” Martin said. “But she deserves to know the truth. And Donal deserves the chance to tell her.”
Noah didn’t argue—yet—but the knot in his gut told him nothing about this was going to go well.
The next day, the hospital doors whispered shut behind them as Noah walked beside Teagan’s wheelchair. The air was cold and biting, the sky a steely gray.
Teagan remained silent, her gaze fixed ahead, although she did murmur a quiet thanks when he got her situated in his truck. It reminded him of the night they’d left Hopewell. She’d been injured and not particularly happy about his company then either.
At least he’d finally convinced her to return to the cabin with him.
That had been a battle from the start. She resisted, politely at first, then with the kind of stubborn set to her jaw that told him she was planning to bolt the minute his back was turned.
He laid out his arguments carefully, focusing on safety, comfort, her fragile state, and the fact that she’d be secure and out of the public eye.
Even then, her agreement had been reluctant, her eventual capitulation hesitant at best. But it was still a yes, and he counted that as a win.
He held out hope that during the time it took to recover, she would come to the same conclusion he had—that there was something special between them that had the potential to be so much more.
They didn’t speak much on the drive up the mountain.
The rhythmic hum of the truck’s engine and the crunch of frozen chunks of snow and ice on the road filled the silence.
Teagan sat angled toward the window, her reflection a pale blur in the glass.
The urge to reach out and take her hand was strong, but he held himself in check. They were on fragile ground.
By the time the private drive came into view, the pines were black silhouettes against a moonlit sky.
The cabin’s windows glowed warm and gold, promising warmth and quiet.
Bear sat in the window, his massive tail thumping when he heard the truck approaching.
A tiny smile curled the corners of Teagan’s lips.
The moment Noah opened the door, the dog bounded out, nails clicking against the porch boards. He made a beeline for Teagan, pressing his nose to her palm like she’d been gone for months instead of days.
“Hey, boy,” she murmured, wincing as she reached forward to scratch behind his ears.
Bear leaned into her, as if to support her, his soft pants and slow tail wags expressing his happiness at seeing her again.
Inside, Noah stoked the fire while Teagan eased herself onto the sofa with care. Bear wasted no time curling up beside her. The dog was as besotted with Teagan as he was.
“You’re safe here,” he said quietly.
Her gaze flicked to his, searching, and then she gave a slight nod before turning back to the fire. “I know. And I am grateful, even if I’m not very good at saying so. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Noah settled into the armchair across from her, wanting to give her the space she needed while simultaneously wanting to hold her in his arms. Somewhere along the line, she had become important in a way he hadn’t thought anyone would.
He leaned back, watching the firelight dance across her profile, and let the truth settle in. Teagan had been through hell, but she was here now, and she was safe. Physically, she’d make a full recovery. Emotional healing would take far longer.
He wasn’t going anywhere.
The fire settled into a steady burn. Teagan hadn’t moved from her spot, one knee drawn up on the couch.
Bear’s head rested against her leg, a barely touched mug of hot chocolate in her hand.
She looked calmer than she had all night, but the invisible walls she’d built around herself remained intact.
Noah’s gaze drifted to the window. Beyond the glass, the cabin’s porch light caught in the drifting snow, each flake tumbling in slow arcs before disappearing into darkness. His phone buzzed with an incoming text.
“Mom’s got soup and rolls for us,” he said into the quiet. “Will you be okay if I run up for it?”
Teagan nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
Every time she spoke in that rough voice, Noah wanted to eviscerate that fucker all over again.
“You’ll be here when I get back, right?” he asked.
She turned to look at him then, her beautiful blue eyes flat, except for the flicker of the fire’s flames reflecting in them, and whispered, “Where would I go?”
He didn’t answer. His fear that she would take off despite her injuries was constant, but at the same time, he knew that short of locking her in, there was little he could do.
As if she’d read his thoughts, her bruised features softened ever so slightly. “I’ll be here, Noah. I promise.”
Something loosened in his chest. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed to hear her say the words. The dark voice in his head suggested she was only telling him what he wanted to hear, but a stronger voice countered with a reminder that she hadn’t lied to him yet.
Nodding, Noah left before he changed his mind about locking her in.
Noah’s boot barely cleared the first porch step before Alex opened the front door. His twin’s hair was mussed, sticking out at odd angles like he’d been running his hand through it.
“How’s she doing?” Alex asked.
“Honestly? I don’t know. She’s not saying much.”
“Understandable,” Alex murmured.
“I just came by to pick up some soup. Hopefully, I can get her to eat something.”
Alex stepped back to hold the door. “Mom’s soup is magic. She’s ladling it out now.”
“Good.”
Warm air hit Noah as he crossed the threshold, along with the scent of freshly baked rolls and his mom’s hearty chicken soup. Both brought back memories of his childhood. Of feeling loved and cared for. That was what Teagan needed. What she should have had all along.
Alex walked beside him toward the kitchen, their strides evenly matched and in sync. “Donal O’Callaghan. Didn’t see that one coming.”
Noah snorted. No one had. Except their father, apparently. Plus, Donal was a wild card. The Irishman had said he wanted nothing more than the chance to know his daughter, and maybe that was true, but they didn’t know him well enough to take him at his word.
There would be time to get into that later. Preferably tomorrow. Right now, his focus was keeping Teagan safe and well cared for. Whatever conversations needed to happen with Donal, Alex, and anyone else could wait until she was ready.