Wishes on the Wind (15 page)

    "Ah, Mary, you had me that worried when I received your summons. I thought you had been taken bad."

    But Mary didn't return his smile. Instead, she clutched his hand and drew him down to the chair beside her bed with a surprisingly strong grip as Fiona retired quietly to the corner of the room.

    "Nay, Father, me time's not come yet, but in truth, I feel it gettin' nearer." Smiling when Father Matthew declined comment on her statement, Mary squeezed his hand with what appeared to be the last of her strength as her arm then dropped limply to the bed beside her. "Aye, ye know it as well as I, and I thank ye for not denying it. But, ye see, knowin' me fate has forced the urgency of things, Father, and I would ask yer help so I might pass on with some measure of comfort."

    "Mary, you know the concern I feel for Sean and Meghan is great. They're dearer to me than my own blood."

    "Aye, and I know though Sean's been a thorn in yer side these long months since Dennis and the boys passed on, ye understand his bitterness, and don't fault him for his lapse of faith."

    Father Matthew frowned, his anger self-directed. "I've failed the boy, Mary. I've not been able to reach him, and were it not for Meg and you, I fear he'd not give me the time of day."

    Fear entered Mary's dark, sunken eyes, and her breathing quickened as her color turned gray. "But ye've not given up on the boy, Father!"

    "No… no…" Taking Mary's hand again, Father Matthew was startled at its sudden chill. It was the coldness of death, and an unexpected tension gripped his stomach. "Sean's a good boy, Mary, and I'd not give up on him."

    Nodding, her breathing slowing back to normal, Mary closed her eyes briefly before continuing in an earnest voice. "It's because of Sean I've called ye here, ye see, Father." Darting a glance toward her sister, she then turned her attention fully back in his direction. "Ye know of the fire at the Lang place, Father."

    "Yes, I heard. I was frightened for Meg when I first saw the flames, before I realized she was at home by then."

    "She was workin' late, Father. She was there, all right."

    Mary's statement struck Father Matthew speechless. Meg's lessons had dropped to thrice weekly, and he had seen Meg since the fire, but she hadn't mentioned a word.

    Tears filled Mary's eyes as she continued in a lower tone. "Aye, yer right to look shocked, but yer no more shocked than was Sean when he came home to find that his sister was still at that place. He knew about the fire before it could be seen from the valley, Father! Whether he had part in it or not is somethin' of which I'm unsure."

    A tear slipped down Mary's cheek at that, but she wiped it away with a firm hand. "I told Meg the whole of it, Father, and it hit her hard. But she had to know the direction Sean's leanin', ye see, if she's to help him. And it was me thought that ye'd need to know, too, if ye was to guide him from that path."

    Mary paused for another deep breath, her strength obviously waning. Gaunt and pale as she was, she looked suddenly closer to death than ever, and tears sprang unexpectedly into Father Matthew's eyes.

    Mary smiled. "I can see the depth of yer feelin's for me children, Father, and I know, now, they're in as good hands here as I can expect them to be. But I'll ask one more thing of ye, if I may."

    "Of course, Mary."

    "It's a thing I've asked of Meg, too that ye not give up on the boy, no matter how difficult he may be. But I also ask of ye, that whatever Sean chooses to do, ye try to remember that Dennis O'Connor's blood flows in his veins, and that makes his heart good, and that makes him worth all yer effort and more."

    "I'll remember, Mary. And you may set your mind at rest that everything you've said to me this day has been taken into my heart."

    "Aye, Father, aye. I can see it in yer eyes. I've naught to fear in leavin' what's left of me brood in yer hands."

    Momentarily unable to respond, Father Matthew nodded. "I thank you for your confidence. I hope to be worthy of it. Shall we pray together now, Mary? Your Heavenly Father likes to hear your voice."

    Gripping Mary's hand more tightly at her solemn nod, Father Matthew crossed himself with a fervent, silent prayer for the strength and the wisdom to help Sean. For even as Mary's weak voice joined his, he saw no way that he could reach the boy.

    Meg raised the spoon to David's lips and slipped the warm broth into his mouth. He accepted it without comment, and as she dipped the spoon to the plate once more, she heard a low sound from the side of the room that turned her briefly toward Grace Lang's tight face. A moment later, Mrs. Lang ushered the girl out of the room, but Meg had no time to ponder the reason for their quick departure as she raised the spoon again to the young master's mouth.

    Her eyes on Mr. David's face, she was aware that despite his brief period of consciousness earlier in the day, things had not gone well. She remembered turning around after he slipped back to sleep to realize that Mrs. Lang had entered the room and witnessed their entire halting exchange. She then became aware of her improper position, seated as she was on the side of the young master's bed. She immediately slipped her feet to the floor and began her explanations, but Mrs. Lang remained curiously silent as Meghan gathered up the tray and left the room.

    There was turmoil in the household after that. Dr. Biel was summoned and dismissed with little progress noted in Mr. David's condition. The lunch tray was delivered and returned without being touched. In the kitchen where she had returned to work, it was rumored that Mr. David had rallied only to fall back into the same unnatural sleep, and she had been more disturbed than she expected by the thought.

    She was summoned to the library shortly afterward and arrived to find both the master and mistress waiting for her. She was startled to see Mrs. Lang's usually smooth complexion was blotchy, her eyes red-rimmed, and Meghan's heart leaped into her throat when Mr. Lang broke the silence with unexpected sharpness.

    "Is it true David was speaking to you when Mrs. Lang returned to the room early this morning?"

    Meghan nodded.

    "How did you communicate with him?"

    Meg gave him a quizzical look. "I spoke to him."

    Her response appeared to incense him. "Spoke to him! Are you aware, miss, that those most dear to David have spoken to him and gotten no response?"

    Meg shook her head. "None at all?"

    Turning with an aggravated shrug that displayed his lack of patience with her answer, Martin Lang walked to the window. He stared out in silence, his turned back more explicit than words.

    "Martin, please!" Her pale eyes brimming, Mrs. Lang took a few steps toward her husband before turning back to Meghan. "Mr. Lang is very upset about David's condition. He loves the boy dearly. Dr. Biel has been unable to ascertain the cause for David's relapse. To be honest, if I hadn't heard David speaking myself, Dr. Biel would have disbelieved that it happened at all. The dear boy is as severely afflicted as before, you see, turning and thrashing in bed…"

    Unable to go on, Mrs. Lang then covered her face with her hands, and within moments Mr. Lang was at her side to comfort her.

    "Letty, you owe this girl no explanation."

    "Martin, you don't understand." Raising her tear-filled eyes to his, Mrs. Lang gestured in Meghan's direction. "David spoke to her, several times. And he drank from the glass when she offered it to him."

    "He's slipped back, Letty."

    "No, he hasn't! He just isn't responding to us the way he did to her." Mrs. Lang then turned back to Meghan. "We've called you here to ask your help, dear."

    Meghan nodded, uncertain what to say.

    "We'd like you to try speaking to David again."

    "Letty, this is a waste of time." Mr. Lang's voice was gruff with pain. "David is"

    "David will be well, and I won't have you say otherwise!" Visibly shaking, Mrs. Lang raised her chin and turned back to Meghan. "Meghan, we Mr. Lang and
Iwould
like you to try to talk to David again, if you would. Would you do that for us, dear?"

    Meghan nodded again, tears welling in her own eyes at the sight of Mrs. Lang's distress. It occurred to her that a ma was a ma, no matter the accent with which it was pronounced, and she felt the poor woman's pain.

    She had then followed Mr. and Mrs. Lang as they climbed the central staircase toward his room. At the door to Mr. David's room, she paused, seeing him lying as still as before, and fear pounded unexpectedly in her chest.

    Urged silently by Mrs. Lang, she approached the bed. David's thrashing begin anew, and her throat tightened hurtfully. She knew if she had been given the same opportunity with her brothers, she would not have stood by as their pain went unassuaged, and she was suddenly grateful to be afforded the chance that had been denied her with the boys.

    Without a thought to the propriety of her actions, Meg perched herself on the side of the bed and stroked David's head as she would one of her own. Her heart was in her voice as she searched his tortured expression.

    "So, the devils are back to haunt you. You must drive them away for good, do you hear? They've no place here. Come on, look up and speak to me. You've not the time to waste reliving pain when it could be better spent getting well." Her voice dropping then, so it could be heard by no one but him, Meg whispered earnestly, "'Tis a time for healing, David, mine as well as your own. Don't disappoint me now. I'm counting on you to bring the two of us through."

    One of her curls had strayed to tickle David Lang's cheek as she leaned over him, and an annoyed shadow flicked across his face.

    "Aye, it's like you to find a way to complain even when you're silent. There's little change in your manner, sick or well, awake or asleep."

    Unexpectedly, David Lang stirred. Fighting to focus his eyes, he rasped in response, "You're angry… black Irish temper…"

    Low gasps from behind turned Meghan to Mr. and Mrs. Lang where they stood a short distance behind her. She returned their startled glances with a short nod.

    "Aye, he's all right. You needn't fear. But I'm thinking it's a strange game of cat and mouse he's playing."

    "I'm thirsty."

    The hoarse statement drew Meg's attention back to the bed where she met the young master's unsteady gaze. Taking the glass from the nearby stand, she supported his head carefully and held it to his lips. He sipped cautiously, and Meg saw that the green in his hazel eyes had expanded again, and she frowned with concern.

    "Are you in pain, Mr. David?"

    Struggling to hold her gaze, he croaked, "You said not to worry, but you left. Then it all went bad again."

    A strange pain tightened inside her, and Meg whispered softly in return, "Then I'll have to stay this time, won't I?"

    A hint of a smile touched David's lips in the moment before he closed his eyes, and it was only after she'd turned back to the two behind her that she realized the foolishness of the promise she'd made him. This was not her Da or one of the boys, and no amount of deceiving herself could change it.

    Silently acknowledging that reality, she slipped from the side of the bed only to have David's eyes snap open, accompanied by a rasping protest.

    Mrs. Lang stepped forward, her expression alarmed. "No, stay. He wants you here."

    Concerned, Meghan did not see Martin Lang's mouth tighten as she resumed her seat. She released a small sigh of relief as David's agitation calmed with her whisper, "Not to worry. I'm here to stay as long as you need me."

    And there she had remained.

    It was hours later now, and the supper tray had been delivered into her hands. The family had drifted out of the room, and then back in again; however, she had not realized Grace Lang was present until the girl made that first sound.

    David's eyes were drooping, but she was not about to allow him to slip away again without having consumed a bit more of the nourishing broth. She held the spoon against his lips.

    "Just a little more."

    "No."

    Putting down the plate, Meg slipped to her feet, only to see David's heavy eyelids lift again.

    "Where're you going?"

    Meg looked at the clock on the wall before responding. "It'll soon be time for me to leave."