And still, when DeFeo spoke, warning them that people could appear to be so many things that they weren't, doubt crept in.

He could have let Genevieve go; he could have even reached for her, and killed her on the ledge.

Ah, but then what would he have done? As DeFeo said, he was securely "handcuffed" by the rope. He would have died himself on the ledge, with no one to haul him back up. He'd never had to go over the ledge; he'd risked his life to do it.

But if there was the possibility he was facing a death sentence...

Doubt!

Why was doubt so much easier than faith? Or, could doubt and care be a.s.sociated with simple intelligence. And where the h.e.l.l did instinct fit into it all? Her instinct was to trust Gabe, but could it be that people were too easily led?

"The cemetery is ahead on the left!" she heard her mother call out to Bobby.

"The cemetery?" she asked incredulously.

Bobby turned to her.

"Mom still intends to say her Christmas prayers at the family grave site and tomb, come heaven or h.e.l.l!" Bobby told her.

"There's too much snow! We won't even see the graves," Morwenna protested.

"You try to tell her that!"

The old stone wall of the little cemetery in the mountains was, at least, still above the snow. They reached it in about a minute, and Morwenna realized that Bobby had kept them on a straight-and-narrow path, following the line of the road. There was a curve in the wall ahead-the entry, which could be accessed by cars when cars could get on the road.

With any luck, she thought, the gate would be locked!

But the gate wasn't locked.

Bobby looked at her. "Not our lucky day," he said lightly.

Despite the fact that the gray clouds that had hovered earlier had moved on, the cemetery seemed shadowed and eerie. It lay beneath the naked and fragmented branches of trees, with only an evergreen here and there to remind the living that spring would come again.

The snow lay heavy over many of the graves, and they were clearly the first ones to brave the road into the graveyard that day. The tips of a few stones just peeked over the snow in some areas.

Bobby was careful to keep them on the roadway through the graveyard-that way, at least, no one would trip over any of the stones, markers or memorials that lay beneath the blanket of white.

"Just ahead," Connor murmured.

Morwenna was glad; she was going to have to trade off with someone. The world was icy cold; she could see her breath coming from her in a fog, but her arm burned like a fiery rod, the muscles giving in after the long walk.

She paused for a minute, staring ahead. Her mother's maiden name was Byrne; the name, she had been told, meant raven, and a large raven stood guard on the wrought-iron fence that led to the little vault and the graves that surrounded it.

High atop the vault, there was a beautiful marble angel. The angel wasn't lowered upon one knee in sorrow, but rather seemed to stand tall against the wind, robes and wings flying behind it as it proudly faced the world. She'd always liked the angel. She wished, in fact, that she'd at least draw something so beautiful at some time in her life.

Bobby pushed hard at the wrought-iron gate; it creaked and squealed, fighting against the snow as it sc.r.a.ped open. Morwenna entered the enclosed area, and set Genevieve up on one of the steps to the vault that was still higher than the snow.

She heard the others pile in behind her, and she thought of the incongruity of their group there; the kids, her mom, determined to say her Christmas prayers at the family grave site, and her father, ready to pray with her mother while still keeping a sharp eye on their prisoners, his shotgun at the ready.

"Mom?" Morwenna said.

Stacy moved forward to the steps, hugging Genevieve to her side, and looking out at them. "Christmas Day, again, and we're all together, and I'm so grateful. I want to thank G.o.d for the family that came before me. I want to tell my folks that I loved them very much. And I want, most of all, to say thank-you for the family that I have now. Guide us, be with us. Keep us safe."

"You're definitely not safe yet," DeFeo said quietly.

"Will you stop-this is a sacred time for my mother!" Shayne snapped angrily.

As he spoke, they were startled as a large black bird suddenly shot through the trees, letting out an eerie shriek. Morwenna ducked as it flew by them.

Stacy watched the bird without flinching. "It's a raven!" she said, and laughed. "Mike, I think that the family is grateful that we're here."

"All right, all right, it's a great and wonderful family day," Luke DeFeo said. "Let me help. Bow your heads in prayer!"

Startled, Morwenna watched him, but slowly, one by one, the other members of her family did so.

"Praise be to the G.o.d and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ," DeFeo said, his voice ringing clearly, "who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ. For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love he predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves. In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of G.o.d's grace that he lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding. And he made known to us the mystery of his will according to his good pleasure, which he purposed in Christ, to be put into effect when the times will have reached their fulfillment to bring all things in heaven and on earth together under one head, even Christ."

He finished speaking.

"Very nice," Gabe said. "Ephesians, I: 3-10."

DeFeo arched a brow to him, a look of satisfaction on his face.

Stacy didn't notice either of them. "Amen!" she said happily.

Morwenna found that she was studying the two men; Gabe didn't seem disturbed, but he was watching DeFeo curiously. DeFeo looked very proud of himself, as if he had proven a point.

"Thank you, Father," Gabe said then, smiling as he looked up at the angel. "Thank you for this family, for the pride and courage and love to be found among them, even here, among those who have pa.s.sed over to your realm. May you bless the lives of those who have proven to be so kind, and who value human life, even among those they know not as friends or enemies."

"Amen," Stacy said again, and this time, her family followed suit. "Anyone else?" she asked.

"Dear G.o.d and Jesus," Genevieve said. "Happy birthday again. Also, could you please make it just a little bit warmer?"

"Amen!" Bobby said, laughing. And he added, "This was lovely, Mom. But maybe we should move on."

Morwenna heard a slight rumbling. She looked up. It seemed that the clouds were coming back again. And again, strangely, light remained among them. The angel on the tomb stood proud in a fierce ray of light, the sun, somehow, shooting down upon it through all the turbulence in the atmosphere.

Shayne came to her side. "I'll take Gen," he said quietly. "I can't believe you made it this far."

She smiled at him, and touched his cheek. She found herself thinking of the way they had fought like cats and dogs as children, and she was suddenly aware that he would have killed himself, not just to get his daughter back, but her, too.

"She's not so heavy. Okay, I'm lying. My arms are killing me. But you must still be feeling some muscle pain of your own, huh?"

"Yeah, but it's all over," he said, grinning. "My arms can take a little more."

He bent down to pick up his daughter.

"It's cold, Daddy," Genevieve said.

"Actually, sweetheart," Stacy said, "I think you prayed it a tiny bit warmer."

"We're almost down to the tavern, baby," Shayne said. "We'll get some nice hot cocoa there-hey, and I'll bet they have turkey on the menu, too."

"It won't be as good as Gram's turkey," Genevieve said.

"No, it won't be, but it will be warm."

"Move 'em out!" Bobby said, taking the lead again.

Morwenna paused, looking up at the angel that rode so beautifully over the tomb.

She smiled suddenly. She barely remembered her mother's parents now, but they had been good people. Hardy mountain stock, very independent-and very loving at the same time. They hadn't built the tomb, of course. The tomb dated back to the early eighteen hundreds.

And yet, someone, way back in her family, had known what a tomb should offer; not sorrow and pain, but pride and hope.

"Morwenna!"

She started; her father was waiting for her, and nervously watching the procession that had gone ahead of him at the same time.

"Coming, Dad!" she said.

But as he started away, she said her own prayer.

"Thanks," she murmured huskily, adding quickly, "Thank you for Genevieve, and thank you for me, and for us all...and help us! Please help us do what's right."

She almost expected the angel to move.

It didn't.

She turned and hurried out after her family. It was still another twenty to thirty minutes down the slippery road until they reached the little tavern nestled in the mountains among the pines.

Chapter 8.

Breaking onto the last stretch, Bobby was glad to see that the lights were on at Scott's Tavern, or, as a neon subt.i.tle below the main sign stated, Scott's Ye Olde Tavern and Grill.

There were even two cars parked in the lot, but Bobby didn't think they'd be going anywhere soon; there would have to be some major digging done before the roads were navigable. He wondered if people from the tavern had held off on the digging because, like his family, they'd expected snow to begin falling in earnest again at any point.

He turned back. Now, DeFeo was heading along behind him, Gabe behind Defeo, and behind Gabe, Shayne was walking with Connor's hand in his. His father had Genevieve and walked alongside his mother, and following behind, ever aware she was carrying a loaded shotgun, came Morwenna.

"Yes, we've made it," Gabe said, coming up so that he stood next to Luke DeFeo, and giving him a smile.

"Not really, not yet," DeFeo said.

Then Bobby wasn't really sure what happened. He didn't know if DeFeo went after Gabe, or if Gabe went after DeFeo, or even if one of them had slipped on a patch of black ice, which knocked them over the embankment together.

Either way, they were sliding away fast.

"Hey!" he shouted to the others.

Shayne, of course, had seen what had happened and was already racing up to Bobby; Bobby started down through the snow and brush for the men. They were still rolling, snapping branches and twigs off dead brush as they sped along. He began to run, leaping over obstacles, aware that Shayne was right behind him.

"Hey, stop!" he yelled at the two men.

They were fighting in desperate, awkward moves, since they both had their hands cuffed or tied. DeFeo got his arms around Gabe's neck, and Bobby shouted again, seeing the man's face begin to turn red. But Gabe was surprisingly agile and strong, throwing himself forward so that DeFeo was thrown over his head and sent into the brush again. When DeFeo would have risen and charged, he was stopped by the loud sound of a bullet blasting into the air.

"Stop it! Now!" Morwenna, as fierce as a lioness, was standing up on the embankment, the shotgun in her hand. But even as she spoke, Gabe was at DeFeo's side; he wasn't attacking him. He was giving him a hand to get to his feet.

As he neared the two of them, he heard them talking.

"Great! Give me a hand, huh? Oh, how saintly of you," DeFeo said.

"You've got on borrowed togs," Gabe said. "You want to be careful with them."

That sounded odd. Maybe he'd heard him wrong. Maybe he was just speaking lightly. But why get into a fight with a guy that might have killed one of them and worry about togs. Clothing?

"Come on, you two," Bobby said, determined to sound as fierce as his sister looked, standing on the embankment. "Let's go. The tavern is just ahead."

To his amazement, they both listened to him. Gabe led the way. Luke DeFeo followed.

"Still need the cops," DeFeo murmured.

Gabe ignored him. Bobby waited, following as the two men headed back up to the road.

"What the h.e.l.l was that?" Morwenna demanded when everyone reached the road.

"Hey, we fell," DeFeo said. He looked at Gabe.

"But you, you..."

"That's the tavern, right in front of us?" he said.

Morwenna looked at him. "That's the tavern."

"They still have electricity. Maybe they'll have internet service, or working phones," Gabe said.

"Maybe they will, and maybe they won't," DeFeo said. "You haven't won anything yet, you know."

"Ah," Gabe said, "but my gla.s.s is always half-full."

Morwenna could have kissed the ground when they finally walked into the tavern. Whether she was right or not, she didn't know-but the responsibility for deciding which man was telling the truth had, at the least, been expanded. Once they walked through the door, she saw her parents' old friend, Mac Scott, behind the bar.