Wishes on the Wind Read Online Free PDF Page B

Lang."
        The door closed behind Captain Linden, and Martin Lang    shook his head and sighed. ''Two good men were killed tonight. It never ends."
        Finding words inadequate, David solemnly took the folder from his uncle's hand. He picked up a nearby pen as he opened the file.
        "Michael O'Toole, fired on the first of the month for drunkenness on the job. Shall we start with him?"
        A faint smile touched Martin Lang's lips as he looked into his nephew's young, handsome face.
        "I suppose that's as good a place as any."
        "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned…"
        A familiar warmth stirring inside him as he recognized the voice of his youthful confessor, Father Matthew directed his response through the confessional screen separating them.
        "How may I help you, my child? How have you sinned?"
        A short pause, and then came a soft response bearing a note of shame. "I'm unable to forgive, and I have hatred in my heart."
        "God understands your human failing, and He'll forgive you if you strive to overcome these weaknesses. You must pray for the strength you need. Hatred is a sickness that can consume your soul. You must put it out of your heart. You must look into the eyes of those you hate and try to substitute understanding for your darker feelings. Will you try to do that?"
        "Yes, Father."
        "Is there anything else, my child?"
        "Father, I…" The girl's voice dropped lower. "I saw the train wreck a few nights ago. I know who caused it. Two men were killed, Father, but I haven't told anybody, and the men who caused it are still free."
        Father Matthew inhaled sharply, but his hesitation was brief.
        "The sin is theirs, not yours, my child. In confession your sin of omission, you have relieved it from your soul and the Lord forgives your weakness."
        "But the men are still free, Father."
        "They aren't free, my child. They carry the yoke of their sins on their shoulders, and it's a heavy burden indeed. You must pray for them as I will, and together we'll ask God to forgive and strengthen them so they'll never sin in this way again."
        "Yes, Father."
        "Is that all you have to confess now?"
        "Yes, Father."
        Reciting the prayers of absolution a few moments later, Father  Matthew heard Meghan O'Connor's voice join his own as she spoke her Act of Contrition. He warmed to the sound.
        Meghan rounded the corner of the house at a breathless pace and entered the yard. Halting abruptly, she brushed the perspiration from her forehead with the back of her arm and ran a smoothing hand over her hair. Taking a few moments for her breathing to return to normal, she then approached the kitchen. Two steps inside, and she knew all her efforts had been for naught.
        "All right, miss, where've ye been when ye should've been helping yer aunt with preparation for the evenin' meal?" Uncle Timothy's hard eyes pinning her, he continued tightly. "With yer mother upstairs, lying abed like a queen, and ye out on a lark, yer aunt's been takin' up the slack, and she's had a hard day of it, too!"
        Meghan lowered her gaze at the censure in her uncle's tone. Uncle Timothy's anger had become familiar to her in the two months she had lived in his home, and she was well aware that there was little that Sean, Mother, or she could do, short of leaving, to satisfy him. Glancing at his narrow, lined face, she saw his small, yellowish eyes still pinned her. His wiry brows had furrowed into a straight line over his sharp nose, and his thin, bony frame was hunched into an aggressive posture that never failed to put her in mind of an angry bantam rooster about to attack. She knew from experience that his tongue could cause as much pain as physical abuse, and that at moments like this, Aunt Fiona silently shared the distress he evoked.
        The advice Father Matthew had given her in the