EPILOGUE

Another hour, MaryAnne thought. Another hour, and we can leave this place forever.

The funeral was over, and she had gotten through it, though she wasn't quite certain how. Now that she was back in Charley Hawkins's Cadillac, though, with Alison beside her, she could finally allow herself to @

think about it.

There had been something sun-ea] about the caskets that had been buried in the cemetery that morning. All through the memorial service and the interment that had finally come to an end a few minutes ago, she had the feeling that she was about to wake up, about to rouse herself from this terrible nightmare to find herself back home in Canaan.

Yet it had all happened, and the memories would remain etched in her subconscious for years to come.

Last night, and the night before, she had awakened from the real nightmare, when she had once more been trapped in the blizzard, carrying Logan's body through the driving snow.

Except in the dream, Logan hadn't been dead.

He had been alive, blood pouring from the terrible wound in his throat, and he'd kept begging her to help him, not to let him die.

Holding him in her arms, she'd kept moving through the blizzard, but no matter which direction she went, it was a]ways the same.

Snow. Endless snow, driving into her face whatever direction she turned, and Logan endlessly dying in her arms.

Both nights she awoke screaming, and both nights Alison had finally crept into bed with her, holding her while she shook with the terrible memory of the dream.

Now, she was sitting in the backseat of Charley Hawkins's car, and Alison was beside her, her daughter's fingers intertwined in her own. In a few minutes they would be at the lodge, where the funeral reception was being held. After that, it would finally be over. She and Alison could leave Sugarloaf.

Would they ever be back? Would they ever be able to bring themselves to come back here, even to visit the grave of her son, Alison's brother?

Right now she didn't think so, and yet already she knew that sooner or later the numbness would wear off, and even the memories of what had happened here would begin to fade, losing their sharp edge.

But where would they go?

They hadn't decided yet, though MaryAnne already knew that Alison was no more willing than she to go back to Canaan, and try to pick up the threads of their existence.

The memories of Logan would be too strong, for everything either of them saw, everything they touched, would remind them of the little boy and renew the pain of their loss.

"But what about your father?" MaryAnne had asked when they discussed it last night. "Don't you want to see him?"

"He's not even coming for Logan's funeral, is he?" Alison had asked bitterly.

"He can't afford it," MaryAnne reminded her, but Alison was unmoved.

"He could have gotten the money if he'd really wanted to." She'd smiled, but there was no joy in the expression.

"I guess I'm finally figuring out why you don't want him back."

They'd left it at that last night, both of them knowing they didn't want to go back to Canaan, but neither knowing where she did want to go.

Now, in the car, Alison asked, "Mom? Where will we go?"

It was as if the girl had read her mind. Coming out of her reverie, MaryAnne turned to look at her daughter, who had stood beside her throughout the long service, their hands grasped in mutual support.

Suddenly Alison seemed older. Her eyes had changed, had lost their childish innocence, had darkened with a new maturity. It's not just her brother she's lost, MaryAnne thought. It's her childhood, too.

"I haven't even thought about it," MaryAnne said.

"Well, I have," Alison told her. "You remember how Logan always wanted to go to California? How he was always talking about going to Disneyland, and learning to surf, and all that stuff?"

MaryAnne felt her heart breaking a little more as she thought of all the things Logan had been looking forward to and now would never experience.

Not trusting her voice, she could only nod mutely.

"Let's do it for him," Mom," Alison said. "Let's go out to California, and do all the things Logan wanted to do."

The car came to a halt, but MaryAnne made no move to get out. She sat quietly, thinking about what Alison had just said.

Could they do it?

Could they set out alone, just the two of them, and build a whole new life for themselves?

Charley Hawkins spoke from the front seat: "You can leave right now, MaryAnne. You don't even have to think about it. All you have to do is pack your bags and put them in the Range Rover, and you can take off."

MaryAnne suddenly felt disoriented. "But I can't. I-I have to think-I can't just do something like that."

"Of course you can," Charley said, his eyes meeting hers in the rearview mirror. "It's exactly what Ted and Audrey did. They met each other, and they knew they were right for each other, and that was that. And neither one of them ever regretted a minute of it, despite how it ended. Even if they'd known what was going to happen, they'd have done it anyway."

"You're right," MaryAnne said. "You're both right. Let's do it."

The weight of her fatigue lifting slightly, she got out of the car. Ten minutes later she and Alison had finished packing.

Putting their luggage into the Range Rove'r, they climbed into the front seat. "Are you sure you don't want to say good-bye to anyone? " she asked Alison.

Alison shook her head. "I said good-bye to Logan at the cemetery. I think we should just go."

MaryAnne put the car in gear and drove away. As they left the town of Sugarloaf forever, neither of them looked back.

If they- had, they might have seen Joey Wilkenson, watching from the Mountainside until the car finally disappeared.

Only when it was gone did he at last start back up into the safety of the high country, the wolf, whom he had named Lobo, limping at his side.

"Don't worry," he said softly, dropping one hand to the wolf's head while the fingers of the other stroked Alison's scarf, which was still around his neck. "We'll find her again. Wherever they go, somehow we'll find her."