Christmas with the McCarthys (Dangerous Doms 7.50)

“I haven’t seen weather like this in ages, Keenan. We almost decided to stay home.”

I frown out at the window.

“Did you talk to Malachy before you left school?”

“Aye,” Tiernan says. “Says he’s coming.”

Mam stands by one of the large windows, frowning out at the snow, and shakes her head. “That rain’s turned to snow, hasn’t it?”

“It has.” I join her.

“Maybe we should call off the party,” Caitlin says.

I turn to her. “Cait, nearly everyone’s here. There’s just Malachy, isn’t there?”

“He’s bringing a boy from school,” Tiernan says. “Name’s Daniel. He has nowhere to go for the holidays, so Malachy’s taken him under his wing.”

Mam fingers the golden chain at her neck. She doesn’t wear her wedding ring anymore, but occasionally it dangles from the chain. Not tonight, though.

“He’s a good man,” she says. “To take in a boy like that.”

“Aye,” I say, sipping my drink. “That he is. You know he’s been like a father to every damn one of us.”

“Absolutely,” she says with a smile. “It’s why I’m so pleased he’s coming here to celebrate. He thinks of you all as his sons.”

She smiles, and is it my imagination, or have her eyes grown a bit softer?

Interesting.

Lightning strikes the second a loud crash of thunder booms in the night sky, and the overhead lights flicker.

Aileen gasps, moving closer to Cormac, and even placid Caitlin frowns a bit.

“You sure it’s safe for him, Keenan?” she speaks quietly so no one else hears.

I shake my head. “I’m not.”

I try to look out further into the storm as if Malachy will appear out of thin air, but of course there’s nothing but a blank darkness and the occasional swirl of a white flake.

“Mr. McCarthy?” I turn to find my head of staff waiting for me.

“Yes?”

“Dinner’s ready, sir. Shall we?”

I don’t respond at first. I don’t want to seat everyone for dinner while we’re still waiting for Malachy, especially when he could be out there anywhere, a child with him to boot.

“How long can you hold dinner?”

“As long as you like, sir.”

“Give us half an hour, please.”

He bows. “Of course, sir.”

“Is dinner ready, Keenan?” Mam asks. She looks the same as she always does, a gentle smile on her face, but her eyes are a bit troubled.

I nod. “Aye, but we’ll hold it a few minutes longer while we wait for Malachy and Daniel.”

I pull out my mobile and dial him, but it goes straight to voicemail.

I’ve known Malachy since I was young lad, barely out of grade school, and old enough to go to St. Albert’s. As the eldest McCarthy family son, it was expected that I attend as soon as I was able. And though I was trained by my father in the ways of the Clan, Malachy taught me nearly as much. He’s the Clan family expert in martial arts. And ever since my father died, I feel a connection to him I can’t deny.

As I look out at my brothers—those related by brothers and those related by Clan—I can tell I’m not alone.

“When did he leave, Tiernan?” Nolan asks, He’s standing by the fireplace with one hand in his pocket, the other hand holding a glass of eggnog. Not spiked for him, though. He’s been sober now for over a decade.

“Said he wouldn’t be more than a few minutes after us, and he’s usually very prompt,” Tiernan says. He shakes his head. “This storm came out of nowhere, didn’t it?”

Nolan nods. “Aye.”

“Well, boys,” Mam says briskly. “We’ve nothing to worry about quite yet. A little while longer and we may have to send someone out to search, but we’ll give him a little time.”

From where I’m standing, I can see the staff coming in and out of the large entryway to our home. A loud knock sounds at the door, followed by the jingling of bells.

Cormac looks at me and grins, then winks.

What’s going on?

The staff opens the front door, and a loud, “ho, ho, ho!” fills the foyer. I look around at the children. Their faces are a mix of absolutely elation and dread, as oohs and ahhh and gasps go up around us.

Santa walks in, wearing a coat of deep crimson, his toy sack slung over his shoulder. Is that…?

He looks up and catches my eye, but my hope fades. I grin at him. Tully makes an excellent Santa.

But where’s Malachy?

CHAPTER 2

Caitlin

I watch my husband’s brows draw together with concern. As Clan Chief, he takes the safety and welfare of everyone as his personal duty. It doesn’t matter what anyone tells him, including me. Keenan is protector of all, even those older than he is.

He embraces Santa and claps him on the back, then whispers something in his ear, but it isn’t until those striking blue eyes meet mine and twinkle that I realize who it is.

Tully. I squeeze Keenan’s hand.