As the villagers mumbled their way through the prayer, Richard trying to ignore the increased crying of the children, Lucas started to fidget next to Gwen. I reached behind her and clamped a hand on his neck, which startled him into stillness for a moment, but then he shrugged it off and began again. While the last rumbling Amen was dying away, he cleared his throat.

"Uh," he said, and every head turned to our pew. Next to me, Christopher gave a low ha! of approval.

"Yes, Lucas?" Richard asked. Lucas stood up.

"Can I look at them?" he asked.

Richard glanced at Nona. Lucas smiled uncertainly at her, and she nodded. He stepped out into the aisle and walked up to the altar, giving Richard a brief nod as he passed. He studied one of the babies for a long minute while everyone in Low Ferry, and probably most of the Friendly, held their breath.

"Your midwife," he said to the Harrisons. "She was an old woman. I think she was tired. I think it's a hard job."

There was an emphatic mm-hm from the congregation. Bertha's former assistant, now her replacement.

"I don't think there's anything wrong with them," Lucas continued. "And I believe in that kind of thing. Not like Christopher."

A ripple of nervous laughter was cut abruptly short when Lucas reached out and touched one of the children, pressing his broad, paint-spattered hand over the baby's chest. It wouldn't have been easy to see from any further back, but there was a look of thoughtful concentration on his face. The baby abruptly stopped crying, subsiding into gurgles. He reached out for the other one and took him from his uncle's arms, rocking him gently.

The silence when the baby stopped crying was sudden and surprising. Outside, the wind howled. He carried the baby to Nona, set him in her arms, gave her a reassuring smile, and stepped back.

"Excuse me," he said, and walked quickly down to the congregation, hurrying out through the same side-door that the Harrisons had come from. Gwen, I discovered, was gripping my hand tightly.

"Well," Richard said, staring at where Lucas had just disappeared into the maze of back-rooms behind the sanctuary. "God be with him."

Nobody was looking at Richard, though. They were all looking at me, as if I was somehow Lucas's keeper. Gwen silently scooted her legs to one side and gave me a significant look.

I stood up again and edged past her, then sort of sidled my way down to the altar and around to the side-door. As it closed behind me I heard Richard clear his throat and announce that it was time to christen the boys.

Lucas was leaning against the wall outside, both hands over his face, breathing deeply. I walked slowly, not wanting to startle him, and coughed to let him know I was there. He nodded, but he didn't look up or take his hands from his face.

"You okay?" I asked. Another nod, and I moved to stand in front of him. "I think that's the first time I've seen you talk to more than two people in an hour."

"Oh, my god," he mumbled, into his palms, but he laughed a little, too. "I won't be able to look anyone in the eye for a week."

He was trembling slightly, and I touched his arm for permission before pulling his hands down, holding his wrists between us.

"It's fine," I said. "That was really good, actually. Did you see the way they – "

"Looked at me? Yeah, I saw that," he said, chewing on his lip. "Did I say anything especially dumb?"

"Lucas," I said. "You know you really almost never say stupid things. No more than anyone else does."

"Not to you, maybe."

"You were great. Nobody's going to look at you funny, I promise."

He almost managed to make eye contact for a second before looking away and drawing another deep breath.

"Think about it," I said reasonably. "Remember when you were Fire Man? You weren't afraid of anyone then."

"I had my mask," he muttered. "That was different."

"Not so different. Anyway, they weren't looking at you just now, they were looking at the babies," I said. I wanted to ask how he'd done it, but he was in no kind of condition to answer, and I could wait. I let go of his wrists and he crossed his arms, tucking his hands under them.

"You want some water?" I asked. "Or we could go back to my shop, you can sit down for a while."

"No, I'll...I can walk home, it'll do me good," he said, starting to pull away.

"At least wait until the christening's over, one of the Friendly can take you back."

"No need to wait," said a new voice, and I glanced up to find Tommy standing in the hall too, watching us. He shrugged and grinned. "Not much on churchgoing. I can take you back now if you want."

Lucas glanced at me again, looked down, nodded. I stepped back and let Tommy pass between us. He slapped Lucas on the shoulder so hard he almost fell over.

"I'll get him home, Saint. You just worry about that bunch in there," he said, jerking his thumb at the sanctuary door as he led Lucas away. I sighed, decided I could give the rest of the service a miss, and sat down outside the door to wait for the closing benediction.

When the christening was over I slipped back in and found myself walking Christopher to his truck, surrounded by a veritable honor guard of the Friendly. They offered to take me up to the cottage, but I thought it was probably wise to stay away for the night. Tommy would make sure Lucas was settled, and I didn't think he needed any more disturbance just then.