Wishes on the Wind (17 page)

    "I led you on I found better game!" Meg's words were an incredulous hiss, and she darted a quick glance around her before turning back to the flushed stable boy with slitted eyes and an angry tightening of her lips. "Not only are you a fool, but you've a poor memory to boot, John Law! It was you that hung around, always talking to me and trying to get me to laugh when I should have been working! And if I was fool enough to speak to you in return, I can see that it was a mistake indeed. If I ever thought you  to be a friend, I was wrong, and I regret the time I wasted with you!"

    There was a moment's silence before Johnny's expression turned sheepish. "Aw, Meg… It's just that I ain't had nobody to talk to of late and"

    "I'll listen to no more!" The fine, straight line of her nose raised haughtily, Meghan turned away from Johnny's penitent expression, only to have the misery in his tone touch a chord inside her as his voice dropped a notch lower.

    "I'm sorry, Meg."

    Turning slowly back to him, Meg saw Johnny's flush, unconsciously noting that the freckles on the bridge of his broad short nose stood out darkly in contrast, and she regretted her lapse of patience. John was, after all, still lonesome in this place, and she had given him little time of late. She was being less than kind, and Ma would be ashamed of her.

    Hesitating only a moment longer, Meg slipped her hand onto Johnny's arm as she attempted to catch his downcast gaze.

    "We've both said things that shouldn't be spoken between two friends, Johnny Law, and I have my regrets, too, for speaking them."

    John's small brown eyes were bright with hope as they jumped to meet hers. "And when Mr. David's well and not in need of your attention anymore, you'll find the time to talk to me again?"

    What was it Ma always said” boys will be boys"? She was discovering more and more each day the wisdom of her Ma's words. And if ever there was a plea for compassion, she was hearing one now. How could she turn it down?

    "Sure and I don't see why I shouldn't."

    "Meg!"

    David's clipped summons turned her to his tight expression as he advanced toward them. Visibly irritated, he glared at the thin stable boy.

    "Don't you have anything to do, Law? It seems to me some of the stalls need cleaning. If you can't find enough work to keep you busy there, you can always report to the kitchen. Uncle Martin doesn't countenance an idle staff."

    Meghan gasped at David's unfair attack, only to have him cast her a warning glance.

    "Keep out of this, Meg."

    "But"

    "I said, keep out of this."

    Before Meg could react, John had turned on his heel and disappeared around the side of the building. The sparks of gold floating in the green of David's eyes were hotly animated as she returned his stare, and Meg knew what that meant. But she was too angry to heed their portent as he took the reins of the gelding the groom held waiting.

    David mounted, and without warning, leaned down and lifted her up onto the saddle in front of him.

    ''What're you doing?" Struggling in his grasp, Meg gasped with disbelief. "Are you mad? Put me down!"

    "Did you forget what I said to you that day on the hillside? I give the orders here. Now sit still or you'll fall. Here we go!"

    Closing his arms tightly around Meg, David spurred his horse into motion, and Meg clutched the saddle in front of her with fright as the big animal took off at a gallop.

    "Do ye not know what that means, man? How can ye be so blind?"

    Without interrupting his step in the informal line of miners making their way home at the finish of the day shift, Lenny Dunne probed Sean's puzzled expression. A hot flush of exasperation colored his thin, freckled face beneath the layer of coal dust blackening it, and he grunted as he savagely kicked a small rock out of his path. Squinting up at the late afternoon sun, he paid little attention to the dust he had raised on the dry road, the inquisitive glances of the men around him, or the annoyed look of a miner a few feet away as the rock bounced sharply off his boot.

    Sean kept a cautious silence. Lenny's temper was well known. Some said it burned as bright as the shaggy red hair that stuck awkwardly from the sides of his miner's cap, and Sean was not of a mood to test it this day. The early summer sun felt warm and good after hours below in the damp shaft, and he wanted to do no more than let it heat his bones for a little while in silence. But Lenny was in a rage at the rumor that had reached his ears only a short time before the shift ended, and he knew he'd not have that luxury.

    The empty lunch pail Lenny carried swung between them as Lenny raised his hand toward Sean's face with an emphatic gesture. Suddenly seeming to realize that he was calling attention to himself, Lenny lowered his voice guardedly.

    "Our man in the state legislature knows well enough what a law allowin' the railroads to own mines would do, and that's why he sent the word back here. Do ye not know what monopoly means, boyo? It means power! 'Cause there's power in unity, ye know, and it's power Mr. Franklin Benjamin Gowen's seekin'power to use against all of us poor Irish who dare opposin' him. It riles the fellow that poor, ignorant men like us will go up against him, and he's out to break us. He's a lawyer Chief Counsel to the President of The Road. He'll get his way. Ye'll see. But I'm thinkin' if he does, there'll be the devil to pay with the Sons of Molly Maguire takin' their satisfaction whatever way they can."

    His friend's fury was obvious, but Sean was having difficulty following him. His mind was on Meg. She'd been working longer hours at the house on the hill in the past month, and he didn't like it. They were paying her well, and that was the hardest thing for him to fight. They were paying her too well for him to do much more than make a few bitter comments, or to curse the bloody priest who put her there in the first place.

    Whatever the reason for his lack of concentration today, he could see Lenny was fast losing patience.

    "Are ye listenin', boyo?"

    "Aye, I'm listenin'." Sean nodded his head and squinted up into the taller fellow's face once more. "But my brain's as fair worn out as the rest of me today. Nothin' much is gettin' through."

    Lenny's face drew into a familiar frown. "Yer mind's somewhere else, and that's the truth of it. And I'm thinkin' I know where it is."

    "Do you, now?"

    "Aye. It don't sit right with ye that yer sister's workin' for them bloody Protestants on the hill."

    A hot flush colored Sean's face. "My sister's
my
business."

    "Is she, now? Seems to me yer wanderin' mind cleared up real fast at the mention of her."

    "I said my sister's
my
business, and if you know what's good for you, you'll not speak of her again to me."

    "Aha! So there's some hot blood in yer veins today after all, O'Connor. Well, ye'd be better off savin' it for them that mean to do ye wrong than to waste it on a man who's tryin' to bring ye along a bit."

    Glancing toward the fork in the road where Lenny and he were soon to part, Sean looked back at his friend with a shrug that was all the apology he could manage.

    "You're right, Lenny Dunne. And I'm thinkin' it's time that I take my foul disposition home and soak it in a bucket of cold water before it does me more harm than good."

    "Aha, right again, me boyo!" His mirth momentary, Lenny was sober once more as he raised his hand in a short salute and stepped onto the turn-off toward the patch. "And should that cold water put ye in mind of sharin' an hour with a friend, ye might come to yer favorite
she been
tonight, 'cause I've the feelin' there'll be more on the minds of many than whilin' away the hours. And ye've much to learn."

    "All right. Perhaps I'll see you then."

    His step more purposeful, Sean turned toward home, dismissing Lenny for problems closer to his heart. Meg would probably be home by now. If they kept her working late on the hill again, there'd be the devil to pay. Aye, he'd make sure of that.

    Were she not so angry, Meghan suspected she would almost be enjoying the ride.

    From the back of the powerful gelding on which she had been riding for the past half hour, the landscape appeared far different than it did when traveling afoot on the dust of the trail. Oh, she was frightened, to be sure. She'd never ridden on horseback before not like this, with nothing to hold onto except the smooth leather of the saddle and the strong arm that held her firmly upright. But the fear that had first kept her clutching David Lang's arm, despite her anger, had relaxed as David had slowed his mount's gait to a steady, non-threatening step.

    In truth, the hills and valley below were something to see from this vantage point. Meg revised that thought. It wasn't as if the valley was a pretty sight, all but stripped of vegetation as it was, and dull and dingy with the coal dust that cloaked everything for miles around. But it gave a person food for thought that the hand of man could make such sweeping changes on the world God had made. She supposed it was impressive all those miles and miles of train track criss-crossing themselves, and the towering collieries built over the mines below. Even the cinder dumps and great heaps of slag took on another appearance when viewed at a distance. It was easy for a person to separate himself from it all up here, on the back of a powerful animal, riding free and unfettered, and Meghan realized the reason was very simple.

    From a distance, a man could see all except the misery below him.

    That thought tempering the anger that had kept her silent for the duration of their ride, Meg turned to look up at David's sober face.

    "So, your temper's finally cooled."

    Meghan's frown returned at his remark, and she looked away.

    David rode only a few feet more before finally drawing his mount to a halt. Dismounting, he knotted the reins in a nearby bush and then turned to lower her to the ground. He took the few steps to a shaded spot under a tree and sat down. Meghan followed him for lack of else to do.

    David broke the silence with an unexpected question as she sat also. "Are you still angry with me, Meg?"

    Silent for a moment, Meghan studied David's face. His expression was sober, devoid of the irritation that had marked his exchange with John Law earlier. She noticed that the green rings that surrounded the black pupils of his eyes had expanded again, almost eliminating the outer circle of brown, but the bright, angry flecks of color were almost stilled, and she puzzled at the unpredictability of this fellow's nature.

    "You didn't answer me, Meg. Are you still angry?"

    "The heat of my anger's cooled, but not the feelings that prompted it. I don't take lightly to your high-handed manner, and I'm thinking I should tell you that I'll not suffer such treatment again. But mostly, Mr. David, I'm confused into wondering which one of the two faces you've shown me is the true David Lang."

    David's annoyance returned.

    "My name's David, Meg, and I'd like you to address me that way."

    Meghan's fine dark brows knit in a delicate line.

    "That would be unwise. The mistress wouldn't think well of it, and neither would the master, not to speak of others in the house."

    "I don't care what anybody thinks. If I can call you Meg, then you can call me David."

    "You call Margaret by her given name, and the same goes for Mabel and all the others, but I've not heard them addressing you as 'David.'"

    "It's not the same with you and me, and you know it."

    "Oh, is it not? Then what would the difference be? I'm a servant in your house, just like them."

    Unexpectedly, David took her hands into his, and Meghan winced at the harsh feel of the tortured skin.

    "My hands aren't very pleasant to see or touch, are they, Meg?"

    "They have harsh scars, indeed, but they'll heal."

    "That's right, they'll heal, and I rarely give them a moment's thought, except for their stiffness and the clumsiness they cause when I try to perform delicate tasks. But if it wasn't for you, my scars would have been far deeper."

    "I did nothing at all but a few menial tasks."

    "That's not true, and you know it."

    "No, I don't. You had the best of care with Dr. Biel, and you had loved ones all around you to nurse you through your despair."

    "I had ceased to exist until I heard your voice, Meg."