Lucas, caught with his mouth full of pumpkin pie, tried to indicate that he was chewing. Carmen laughed, then subsided quickly when he flinched. He swallowed hastily.

"Dry roofs," he said.

"Amen!" Sara toasted him with her plastic water-glass, and turned to their next victim. I kept eating, unaware for a second that Lucas had leaned towards me.

"You, alive," he whispered in my ear.

"Take it for granted. I'll be around a while," I answered.

"Excuse me," Richard called, standing at the front of the room and clapping his hands together. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm sure we are all grateful for this food we've received – if I could have a brief round of applause for the Farmer's Association and the Low Ferry Christian Ladies' Committee – "

He was interrupted by the requested accolades, with hoots and cheers from some of the rowdier participants.

" – thank you. And of course, the giver of plenty..." he jerked his thumb towards the ceiling, getting a round of laughter.

"I hope he's not going to ruin everything with a sermon," Carmen whispered across the table.

"He hasn't yet," I whispered back.

"Now, as many of you know we are holding a prayer meeting in the sanctuary tonight, not only to give proper thanks for the bounty visited on Low Ferry this year but also to pray for the Harrison family. As you may know," he said over a wave of low muttering, "we are already concerned for their wellbeing, considering how their welcome arrival into this world was followed closely by a loss to our village family. If you'd like to join me upstairs in about fifteen minutes, we will be saying a prayer for the children, followed by a christening for both little Abe and little Noah."

"Well, they didn't pick those out of a Bible or anything, did they?" Paula observed.

"Faithful men of God. No, no symbolism there," I agreed, folding my napkin. "Care to accompany me to the symbolic naming ritual and ceremonial placebo for emotional unrest?"

"Don't mind if I do, Christopher."

"Excellent. Lucas?"

"Of course," he said.

People drifted into the sanctuary in twos and threes, casually, as if they hadn't really meant to attend, they just sort of found themselves there. Nobody in town would have missed it. Things like this, especially if something amazing happens, are talk of the town for months and years to come. I'd have laid money that they'd still be talking about me collapsing at Halloween when Noah and Abe Harrison were starting high school.

I lost Lucas for a moment in the crowd gathered at the side-entrance to the chapel, then gave up as one of the older townspeople asked for help pushing through to get to a pew. When I went to find Lucas again he had retreated to the back of the high-ceilinged sanctuary and was staring out the wide windows on the front door.

"What do you see?" I asked, looking over his shoulder.

"Guests," he answered, pointing through the glass.

There was the glimmer of headlights in the dark, moving up the main street. At first I could only see two or three cars, but eventually more appeared behind them, until I wondered how many people could possibly have missed the Low Ferry Thanksgiving extravaganza but still be attending the prayer meeting.

Then I realized whose cars they were, as they began to pull into the little turnaround in front of the church and park haphazardly wherever there was room.

"Richard," I called over my shoulder. He was struggling into his vestments at the front of the room, but he lifted his head and gave me a questioning look. "You might want to come say hello to a few people."

The rest of the village drew close and Richard had to push through the crowd somewhat. I stood aside so he could see. The Friendly were just climbing out of their cars. Gwen, I saw, was helping Christopher out of a back seat.

"Are they Christians?" Richard asked. "They've never come to church before."

"I honestly don't know," I replied. "They call me Saint but I don't think that means much."

"Well, it hardly matters, I guess. You aren't Christian either, after all," Richard winked at me. "Go on, Lucas, open the door."

Lucas silently swung the door open, and Richard walked out into the cold. I followed, and Lucas darted through – probably to escape the onlookers inside.

"Good evening," Richard said, meeting them on the steps. Tommy and Pete were in front, most of the Friendly families behind, and Gwen was with a knot of young men and women further back. Even the children were there.

"Evening, Reverend," Christopher said, making his way arthritically up the steps.

"Call me Richard, please," Richard said, holding out a hand. Christopher took it gratefully and hauled himself up the last few steps. "What can Low Ferry do for you this evening?"

"Won't mince words," Tommy said, joining Christopher on the landing outside the front door. "We've come about the boys."

"Abe and Noah?" Richard asked.

"S'right, Reverend," Tommy said. "Come to help see to them, with you folks, if you don't mind."

Richard smiled. "Nobody's turned away from this door. Come along. You there, inside, move back! We have some friends who've come to pray with us for the boys. Move along, make room – that's the spirit."