Chapter Seven
When his mother announced that they were skipping Midnight Mass, Daniel not only took that as “number three” of things that could go wrong, he considered it might be the actual apocalypse.
No one argued with the decision, that was for sure. It had been late by the time the boys returned with Liam on an ATV. Another half hour had passed while his brothers ribbed him for his monumental stupidity. Then Molly wrapped Liam’s sprained ankle, doing the job so slowly, Daniel wondered if it wasn’t her way of guaranteeing they all got out of Mass.
Truth was, the whole evening seemed off, but none of the kids appeared to mind a bit. They were cheery, with that buzz of anticipation that Daniel remembered from years gone by.
Of course, the eggnog and whiskey had flowed a little heavier than usual, which seemed to do the trick to wipe away the undercurrent of sadness over the lost dog.
He tried to shake off his blues as they started the gift exchange. They were about halfway through when Gramma Finnie stood up from her chair and slapped her hands against weathered cheeks.
“We forgot to light the candle!”
That got a huge and mixed response from the crowd.
“Uh, we didn’t exactly forget, Gramma,” Molly said on a guilty laugh.
“We’re lit enough,” Darcy joked.
“Just do the short version, please,” Shane said. “I’m about to reveal the best bad T-shirts ever given to dog trainers.”
Gramma silenced them all with a look. “Tradition is tradition, and this one is forever.”
“And it takes forever,” Shane added.
More moans and groans followed, but Garrett got up and found the long lighter and made a show of handing it to her with a bow. “For the lighting of the candle, madam.”
“Thank you, lad,” she said. “You’re the best in the bunch.”
That had earned the expected response from his brothers and cousins and more laughter from everyone. Daniel sat perched on the arm of a chair next to the fire, able to see out the front window on the off chance that…
No, he had to stop. Talk about stupidity. What could be worse than silently praying your deceased wife would work a miracle to bring home a lost dog? He forced his gaze off the outdoors and onto his dear, sweet mother, who took her long lighter and stood in front of the lantern and candle.
“In the south of Ireland, near the County Waterford, where we get our glorious name and heritage, there is a tradition that began in the seventeenth century…” She leaned close to Christian, who was watching, rapt. “When the Catholics were suppressed.”
He blinked his little-boy eyes at her, confused but mesmerized.
“By lighting the candle, the people were signaling to any passing priests that the family inside was Catholic.”
“Unless they skipped Midnight Mass,” Molly whispered.
“Then they were just sinners,” Liam replied, both of them getting dark looks from Gramma, who took her heritage seriously.
“But that drew the attention of English soldiers!” Gramma said, adding a flair for the dramatic that ran in her bloodline.
Daniel only half listened, enjoying the lilt of his mother’s brogue, taken back to when he was the child in this room, then the young husband, then a proud father, and now…a grandfather. So many Christmases come and gone at Waterford Farm. Fifty-nine of them.
“How did that happen?” Christian’s question echoed the one in Daniel’s head.
“Oh, I’m so glad you asked, lad.”
“Coal for you, little man,” Shane joked. “’Cause now we’re definitely getting the long version.”
“I like your stories, Gramma Finnie,” Christian said, earning a beaming smile from the old woman in front of him.
“And you are a mighty good addition to the clan, lad. Maybe your fine uncles can learn from your interest.”
Everyone laughed, and when that died down, Gramma continued.
“Yes, they told the soldiers that the lights were to guide Mary and Joseph along the way to the stable to bring in baby Jesus, and the soldiers fell for it!”
“Just like Liam down that hill,” Garrett said in a stage whisper, veering them all back into laughter and away from the story.
“It’ll just take me longer if you keep interrupting,” Gramma warned, her blue eyes dancing with affection, because complaining about the story was as much a tradition as lighting the actual candle.
“But what about the soldiers, Gramma?” Christian asked, oblivious to the family dynamic and caught up in a new Christmas story.
“Well, the soldiers believed them, and the tradition continued. To this very day, the candle is lit in every Irish home to welcome anyone who might be passing by, needing some food, or lonely and lost on Christmas.” She snapped the lighter and held it over the candle, glancing out the window. “So that’s why we light one right here in the Kilcannon home, in case—”
She looked up just as the candle lit, her jaw dropping.
“Did you hear that?” she said in a hushed tone.
“A dog?”
“I heard a bark!”
“Definitely a dog!”
Half of them were up, but somehow Daniel beat them all to the front door, a little ashamed of how badly he wanted Jack Frost to be trotting up the walkway.
He yanked open the door to a gust of cold air, blinking at the silhouette of a man coming into the light of the house. A big man, muscular, with his heavy-jacketed arms wrapped around something small and tan and definitely barking.
But it wasn’t the dog that made Daniel Kilcannon’s heart stop beating in his chest. It wasn’t the miracle that made Gramma Finnie murmur an Irish prayer of gratitude. It wasn’t the impossibly perfect timing that made every single Kilcannon in the room stand in shocked silence behind him.
It was the blue eyes, golden hair, and irrepressible smile of a soldier they missed more than they could express.
“I found this little guy wandering around.” Aidan walked in and offered the dog to Molly, who stood next to Daniel with tears already streaming.
“Son.” Daniel could barely say the word as he embraced his youngest boy and squeezed his strong, healthy, so very much alive body. “You’re home.” His voice cracked, but he didn’t care.
“I got leave for the holidays.” Aidan hugged back, hard enough to damn near fracture a rib, but Daniel didn’t care. “Don’t tell me I missed the Christmas candle story!”
In the outburst of hoots, hollers, hugs, and dances of disbelief, Daniel inched away and drank in the high fives, the tears, the squeals of delight, and an insane amount of barking.
The room was bursting at its seams as Daniel tried to get his bearings. Weight and sadness and grief and disappointment lifted from his shoulders, leaving him unbalanced with nothing but pure joy. The deepest, most profound joy he’d felt in years.
His gaze moved around the faces of his family as they looked at him, their beaming smiles, some tears, a lot of laughs, and that familial sense of…of…holy hell.
“You knew.” He could barely say the words, taking in Shane’s victorious grin and Garrett’s satisfied nod and Molly’s smug expression of a person who’d successfully pulled off a surprise. “You all knew.”
“Not all of us!” Pru squealed, visibly torn between the joy of a surprise and not being in on it.
“You’d have put Aidan on the calendar,” Liam teased. “Couldn’t risk the security breach.”
“I didn’t know,” Chloe said.
“Nor I,” Jessie chimed in, looking at Andi.
“I fell harder than my husband down that hill,” she replied.
All three women looked at their respective men, who looked at each other like they wanted someone else to answer.
“It was a group decision to keep you in the dark,” Liam finally said. “We thought the fewer people who knew the better.”
“When you insisted on going, we just kind of silently agreed we’d pretend to be looking for the dog,” Garrett said, hugging Jessie tighter. “Don’t be mad.”
“You sure it wasn’t a test?” Chloe asked. “To see if we are ‘real’ Kilcannons?”
“Based on the bunny save, you passed,” Shane joked.
“Speaking of ‘real.’” Daniel pointed to Liam’s injured ankle. “Is that?”
“Sadly, it is,” Liam said sheepishly. “Got a little carried away trying to convince my wife I really was worried about that dog.”
“I think we all did,” Garrett said on a laugh.
“But where was the dog?” Daniel asked as he reached to take Jack Frost from Ella’s hands, where he was being well loved.
“He’s been in the kennels sound asleep all evening,” Darcy assured him. “When the fire department called this afternoon, I thought of the whole plan.”
“Wasn’t my acting amazing?” Ella asked as she relinquished the pup.
“We literally had no idea how we were going to drag things out and skip Midnight Mass so we could be here, at home, when Aidan arrived,” Shane said. “But then Jack Frost gave us the perfect story.”
“It takes a village to fool the father.” Aidan grinned at Daniel. “And we knew it would take an act of God for Gramma to skip Midnight Mass.”
Gramma Finnie gave a smug smile. “I agreed to the plan without question when I heard it.”
“You knew?” Daniel nearly choked.
“Only after you left. Darcy came back to the house and whispered the truth to me, so I could time the lighting of the candle for Aidan’s arrival.”
“Aidan’s your Christmas surprise from all of us,” Molly said, sliding her arm around Daniel. “Are you happy, Dad? It’s all we really wanted this year.”
Happy? He couldn’t speak or breathe. “I just…” Damn the tears. He blinked them back and looked at Aidan, dressed in camos, a true warrior who probably moved heaven and earth to get this leave.
“Hey.” Aidan took a step closer and put his hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “This was all my idea. You can’t be the only one pulling strings to make things happen, Dogfather.”
Daniel hugged his youngest son again, making the dog bark and the family cheer. Over Aidan’s mighty shoulder, he let his gaze skim the red and gold ribbons, sparkling white lights, and a roaring fire of comfort, until it landed on the tree.
There, he found a picture of a smiling young bride, looking right at him, promising to never leave his side.
Merry Christmas, Annie girl.
And for the first time since the day he said goodbye to her, he felt the tiniest, most infinitesimal stirring of something in his soul. Hope.
That was Annie’s gift this year, the best gift of all.