Free Wishes on the Wind by Elaine Barbieri Page B

that was of little comfort. Johnny Law had made enough of a pest of himself to incur Cook's wrath on both himself and her on more than one occasion during the month. No more than sixteen, Johnny was young and lonesome for someone his age, having been brought from Philadelphia to work at the house without a single member of his family. Miss Grace Lang was off limits to the poor servant boy, and that left only her.
        It had been difficult maintaining a cheerful facade for Father Matthew when at times she had been so low. As for today, she preferred to keep the shame of her shrewish behavior with David Lang to herself. She was not proud of it.
        Her lessons done, Meghan walked swiftly home, nodding to her friends Mary O'Neil and Sheila McCrea as she passed them on the street. She had no time for conversation now. Breathless, she entered the kitchen a few moments later, only to come face-to-face with her uncle's frown.
        "Yet late! Yer aunt's been workin' herself into an early grave here alone in the kitchen, while yer mother's been sleepin' upstairs all day and ye've been dallying in the street."
        Meghan turned worriedly toward Aunt Fiona.
        "Ma wasn't down at all today?"
        The brief shake of her aunt's head all she needed to turn her
        toward the staircase, Meg was halted abruptly by an angry grip on her shoulder.
        "Oh, no, ye don't! Ye'll not go upstairs to pass another hour lazing at yer mother's bedside while yet aunt works herself into the ground!"
        "Take your hand off her!"
        Snapping around at the sound of Sean's voice, Meghan felt herself pale at the fury in her brother's face as he stepped into the room. Straight from his shift at the mine, he was dirty and tried, and of a mood that looked close to savage.
        "I said take your hand off my sister, old man!"
        Meghan felt her uncle's clutching grip lessen as he responded tightly, "Ye'll watch yer mouth or ye'll find yerself out on the street, me buckoo!"
        "Take your hand off her or you'll find I'm more of a man than you think you are!"
        Uncle Timothy's hand dropped from her arm as Aunt Fiona took a hesitant step forward. "Yet uncle wouldn't harm Meg, Sean. He's worried for my sake and the work I'm to do to keep up the place."
        Sean's sneer twisted his face into an angry grimace. "Uncle Timothy worries for no one but himself and the tidy sum he's put away for his old age."
        "Sean!" Meghan took her brother's arm with a low plea. "Let's go upstairs by Ma for a few minutes. She's not been down today at all. She must be feeling worse."
        His heated flush paling, Sean glanced dismissingly toward his uncle. "Aye. This one won't bother you anymore today."
        Meghan cast her brother a sidelong glance, her heart wrenching as they reached the top of the staircase and turned toward their room. Bitterness was beginning to mark his handsome face with downward lines. It hurt her that his smile was so infrequent and that the eyes that had always danced with life were now so cold. That coldness frightened her because she knew it went deep inside him.
        Unable to find words to comfort him, Meghan proceeded to the door of their room, aware that Sean walked close behind her. Slowly pushing open the door, Meghan looked inside as Sean peered over her head. She emitted a low gasp of fright. Ma was so still and white. Meg dashed to her bedside, her heart pounding, just as the frail woman slowly opened her eyes.
        "Oh, Ma!"
            Mary O'Connor's blue-veined hand reached out to pat hers as she managed a feeble smile. "Not to worry, Meg. Me time's not come yet." Raising her gaze, Mary smiled more broadly at her son, standing protectively behind Meghan. "It does me good to see yer face, Sean." She paused. "Smile for me, boy, 'cause it warms me heart to see yer Da alive in ye when ye do."
        "Aw, Ma." Sean shook his head. "I'm not of a mind