Wishes on the Wind (12 page)

    David joined the quietly conversing group prepared to enter the dining room. It didn't take more than a few minutes to see that Abigail would be easily won over, and his tension relaxed the slightest degree. Catching his uncle's eye, he saw to his relief not the slightest sign of hostility there, and he was vastly relieved. He saw the approval in Aunt Letty's gaze, and he knew she was aware    of the effort he had expended to please her. He even managed a halfhearted smile for Beverly, along with a wink for Grace.

    Observing the strictest etiquette, he seated Abigail at the table, relieved to see that Beverly and Grace had seated themselves, and retired to his chair. His conversation with Abigail was progressing nicely, and he found himself warming to her coy, provocative glances. He was beginning to feel decidedly better when Aunt Letty rang her little silver bell for the first course.

    David looked up as Mabel's lumbering bulk entered the room, followed by a smaller, daintier figure. He stared in disbelief. Brilliant blue eyes met his, turning glacial as Meg O'Connor set a plate of steaming soup in front of him with great care. David stiffened, his stomach knotting with a familiar irritation.

    Watching as the girl followed Mabel back into the kitchen, David was at a loss with his ambivalence. He felt an abject desire to encircle that skinny white neck with his hands and squeeze for all he was worth, yet he admired the little chit's indomitable spirit.

    Still engrossed in his thoughts, David mechanically spooned his soup into his mouth. His eyes bulging as the scalding liquid scorched his tongue, he swallowed convulsively, choking and gasping as the blistering fluid burned a fiery path to his stomach.

    Attempting to alleviate the concern of those around him with a sickly smile as he caught his breath, David silently acknowledged he had been too optimistic a few minutes earlier. He should have realized the moment that blue-eyed little Irish witch stepped into the room that he could expect the worst.

    It was growing dark as Sean made his way home along the nearly deserted street with an easy swagger reminiscent of better times. Swinging his lunch bucket, he pushed back his cap and grinned as Uncle Timothy's house came into view, his smile faltering only when he considered the thought that he was hours late coming home from his shift, and that Ma and Meg must have begun to worry at his being so delayed. But he consoled himself that he had good reason.

    Sean's smile widened, his even teeth appearing even whiter against a face blackened with coal dust. Ah, yes, his heart was lighter in the knowledge that he'd begun taking control of his life at last. A low laugh escaping his throat, Sean admitted a portion of his present lightheadedness could also be called lightheadedness, resulting from the hours he's spent conversing and imbibing at Muff Lawler's place.

    His eyes suddenly growing more serious, Sean nodded to himself. He'd taken a wise step when he'd first walked across Lawler's threshold almost a week earlier and revealed his commitment to become a part of the society there. Too young to be accepted by the older members, he'd been taken under the wing of some of the younger fellows, only a few years older than he, and this afternoon that contact had proved its worth.

    Aye, it was just like Da said. Word got around, even if names and particulars didn't. A man just had to put himself in the place where he'd hear what was to go on, and Muff Lawler's was that place. And Lenny Dunne, his newest friend and a proud Irishman to boot, was a man on the in.

    Feeling too good to take the usual precaution to dust the coal dust from his clothes before entering the house, Sean dropped his pail by the back door and stepped inside. His grin faded slightly as Aunt Fiona's small, tired eyes rose to meet his, and he felt a moment's shame for his coldness toward this woman of his own blood. Consoling himself a moment later that his aunt had done nothing to earn more from him, he returned her glance with silence.

    "Yer late, Sean. Ye've missed yer supper, but it's plain to see that ye've had yer fill anyway. Aye…"

    Sean frowned at his aunt's unwanted criticism, his resentment obvious as he lifted his chin in uncharacteristic arrogance. "Aye, I've had a few, but I'm not near the state you find your own husband in most nights. And I tell you now, I've no intention of growin' in his image not that it's any of your concern, Aunt."

    "But yer Ma's me concern, and she's been worryin', upstairs all alone in her room, waitin' for ye to come home."

    "Alone, you say?" All trace of arrogance leaving his young face, Sean was suddenly alert as he took an anxious step forward. "Where's Meg? Why ain't she with Ma?"

    "A young fella that works at the Lang place came down with word to yer Ma that she'd be workin' late at the house. Them Langs have some people visitin' that weren't expected, and she"

    Fiona halted abruptly at the terror flaring in Sean's eyes in the moment before he turned sharply toward the dark hillside behind him.

    "What's wrong, Sean? What do ye know? What's"

    Reacting without conscious thought, Sean bolted out of the house. He crossed the boardwalk toward the street in a few long    steps and broke into a run. He was breathless from his mad dash when he gradually slowed his step, squinting in the limited light in an attempt to locate the rough path that would up the hill to the rear of the Lang residence.

    "Does it seem to you that Mr. David ain't up to his usual self tonight, Mabel?"

    Margaret's soft inquiry was met with Mabel's worried grunt as she arranged the bread artfully on her tray. The kitchen of the Lang residence was unaccustomedly crowded with all hands contributing to the preparation and serving of the first meal for the unexpected guests, and Meghan listened with silent disgust to the servants' concern for their darling pet.

    "I've seldom seen him quiet as he is tonight." Mabel's tone confirmed her concern. "Not that he's the type to be loud or overbearing, mind, but I'd say his mind's not on the present company, that's for sure. And I'm telling you now, Miss Abigail Hutton ain't taking it kindly. Why that young miss is fit to burst." Meghan paused in her task of scooping the roasted potatoes from the pan, her eyes moving to Mabel's jowled face as the woman continued, "No, Mr. David ain't really been himself of late at all, and I don't mind telling you, I'm worried for the boy. His uncle's driving him hard at the mine, and he's not one to spare himself."

    Meghan barely restrained a laugh. David Lang, selfless and giving without sparing himself? That wasn't the David Lang
she
knew! Not realizing her thoughts were so apparent, Meghan was startled as Cook turned hotly toward her.

    "I'll not have you mock Mr. David in my presence, miss! He's a fine young man, who's better than most you'll ever know, and I'll thank you to keep your sassy looks and comments to yourself. You're not above being turned out on your ear, you know. It's only Mr. David who's stood up for you in the past, and you've shown him little appreciation for it. If you keep up this tack, I'll speak to Mrs. Lang myself and I'll"

    Thudding footsteps at the back door interrupted Cook's harangue, turning all eyes toward Johnny Law's white face as he stumbled in from the yard, breathless.

    "Fire! There's a fire in the stables, and it's a bad one!"

    "Quick, inside to the dining room with you, to the master!"

    Following Cook's instructions, Johnny ran across the room and pushed open the dining room door. His unexpected appearance   there was all that was needed to bring the men of the house to their feet.

    ''Fire, sir! In the stables!"

    In a flurry of movement, the men kicked back their chairs and turned at a run. Meg heard the women's frightened squeals as they jumped to their feet and followed, but she did not realize she was racing out into the darkness behind them until she first saw flames leap against the night sky.

    Easily outdistancing his uncle, David reached a scene of wild pandemonium. The stable burned in a brilliant fiery display against the black sky, the thick smoke and searing heat emanating from the blaze intense. Terrified whinnies rent the night air, punctuating a din of roaring flames, creaking beams, and anxious shouts. All around him terrified, wild-eyed horses rescued from the fire screamed their protest as stable hands and grounds guards alike attempted to restrain them. A disorganized brigade threw buckets of water at the flames, their frustrated shouts growing louder as the fire grew more intense.

    Shrieking whinnies from within the blazing structure ripped at David's insides. He grasped Townsend's arm as the stocky, gray-haired man strove to bring a semblance of order to the chaotic scene.

    "Townsend, how many horses are still inside?"

    "Three."

    "Fabian?"

    "He's in the rear stall. We can't get him out."

    "Can't get him out? The west side of the building isn't fully engulfed. We can get him out there."

    "The roof's ready to go. I can't send my men in."

    David shot a desperate look into the growing inferno. He could make it. He had to try!

    With no thought to safety, David broke into a spontaneous run, his mind registering the incredible heat of the flames as he cleared the doorway. The smoke so thick that he was unable to see a few feet ahead of him, David halted just inside the door, gasping for breath as he attempted to get his bearings. The burning heat seared his lungs as a wall of smoke closed around him, and panic touched his mind in the moment before a shrill whinny sounded nearby. Staggering a few feet forward, he saw Ribbon Lady straining at her halter, her wild eyes bulging with fear, and he yanked the stall door open, managing to untie her just as a hand reached around    him from behind to take the lead from his grasp. Nodding as a young stable hand led the frantic mare out of the building, David gasped for breath, and coughing and swaying as the intensifying heat increased his confusion.

    He heard another frenzied whinny nearby and recognized the sound. Fabian! He could hear the big fellow, but he couldn't see him.

    A strong grip on his arm turned him unexpectedly, and he saw Townsend peering at him from under a water-soaked blanket, but the man's words were muffled by the crackling roar.

    "… out of here! The roof…"

    Again Fabian's shrill cry for help, and David shook off Townsend's clutching grip and headed toward the sound. Only a few steps more and he'd find him. He couldn't give up now.

    But the smoke was too thick. It blinded him, choking him, and David swayed weakly, disoriented. He couldn't breathe, couldn't stand, and he dropped to his knees. The heat… the flames…

    Flat on his face as he gasped for breath, David crawled toward the agonized whinnies. He was almost there… almost, when the thought penetrated the muddled functioning of his mind that the whinnies had ceased.

    A new, more terrifying sound filtered through David's addled consciousness the snap of breaking timbers. David looked up, squinting as tears ran from the corners of his burning eyes. The roof seemed to flutter over his head, lifting and swaying with the power of the flames devouring it.

    Choking, his lungs aflame in his chest, David stared upward, the fiery outline of the massive beam above him the last thing he saw as the heat consumed him.

    Frozen with horror, Meghan stared at the blazing stables, unable to look away as the roar of the fire reached a deafening crescendo. Her mindless step had brought her to the terrifying scene shortly after David Lang, and she had called out in spontaneous protest as he had dashed into the inferno. Shocked, she had watched as Martin Lang arrived breathless a few moments later, and she had seen incredulity turn to horror as Townsend shouted over the roaring flames that David had gone inside.

    Uncertain exactly what happened after that, her stunned mind registered a blur of movement as Mr. Lang attempted to follow his nephew into the flames but was forcibly restrained. Unexpectedly,    a stable hand broke away from the frantic scene and ran into the flaming building. Her relief was intense when he came out a few moments later, pulling a fear-crazed mare to safety.

    But David Lang did not emerge.

    Townsend threw a water-soaked blanket over his head and dashed into the blazing structure. As Meghan watched, he stumbled back out a few minutes later, gasping for breath as his men dragged him to safety.

    Hysterical crying behind her grew louder as the entrance to the stables ringed in flame. The snap of burning timbers jerked her gaze up to the roof as it shuddered and swayed. An echo of shrieking protest rose in her throat.

    But what was that a shadow, something moving along the ground just inside the entrance, crawling…?

    It was…!

    Meghan raced toward the burning entrance, reaching it as the timbers overhead groaned a deep warning. The roof shuddered above her as she reached David's side and grasped his coat. He was unconscious, and she pulled with all her strength as the cracking of the beams grew louder.