The official reason Caleb gave for coming to the village was pleasant memories of his grandparents' nearby farm. The real reason was his recurring dreams of Cassandra.
He didn't recognize the woman in the dreams right away. He hadn't seen her in twenty years and back then she was a child no older than twelve. Still, he was surprised it took him so long to place the thick raven hair and the green eyes—so like a cat's.
Caleb checked into The Shady Corners Motel in Green Meadow with nothing but a worn duffel bag and his toolbox. That night, he had his first full-blown wet dream since age thirteen.
The next day he walked into the general store and the locals barely gave him a glance. He had no doubt they knew exactly who he was; he looked just like a young version of his Grandfather Hawthorne.
He gathered up a few things and Pelton Gilroy rang him up. He had not changed in any significant way in twenty years except for the lines being more deeply etched in his face.
"Anything else, Caleb?" Pelton asked in a lackadaisical manner.
"Yep. Wonder if anyone is hiring or in need of a handyman."
Pelton lifted a bushy grey eyebrow but, other than that, kept his expression neutral. "Cassandra Penrose was just in and said she needed someone to help out around her place. Interestin' timin', I might add, her needin' a handyman and you comin' here."
"She leave a number?"
"Aint got a phone. Imagine you can just show up and start."
"With no interview?"
"Few people in these parts would be fool enough to take up with a Penrose, but from what I remember of ya you are plenty fool enough. My guess is that it was more than a coincidence, the timin' of you showing up here."
"I might be a fool, but I'm not a superstitious fool. I assume the town is still under the impression that the Penroses are witches. Next you'll be starting in on my family."
The old man just stared at him—answer enough.
Caleb shook his head. "Ridiculous."
"Not as ridiculous as a man packin' up and leaving the city to show up in a hole-in-the-wall town with no job lined up. Seems somethin' else had to be calling him."
The dream of the night before flashed through his mind, but Caleb's face remained expressionless. "Cassandra still stay in the same place?"
"Where else? Penroses don't leave their land and nobody would buy it off them anyhow. She's the only Penrose left, though." With that, Pelton thrust the bag at Caleb and went back to his chess game with what looked to him to be a member of the Hogan clan.
The next day he drove up to the Penrose place. He had to park down on the dirt road and walk up the overgrown path to the house.
Caleb looked around at the simple house that, he would bet anything, still didn't have indoor plumbing. He could see that the roof needed fixing and a dozen other reasons why she needed a handyman. Some would call his arrival providence.
He walked up to the screen door and knocked; there was no answer. He tried to see inside but could not make out much beyond the basic shapes of furniture.
"Hello, Caleb." Much to his chagrin, he started a little at the unexpected sound of her voice. It was the voice from his dream.
"Cassandra, you need a bell around your neck," he said as he turned to face her. Although he hadn't laid eyes on her for twenty years, he felt like he had been with her just the night before.
Before him stood a woman with impossibly thick, impossibly dark hair pinned up in a makeshift bun. Several locks of hair had fallen loose into damp ringlets. The tendrils framed a heart-shaped face with pale skin, full lips, and straight white teeth. Forest-green eyes that seemed to miss very little sparkled back at him.
From the way her dress clung to her curves and the dampness of the loose hair he guessed that she was back from bathing in the nearby creek.
Her body was ripe and lush without being fat. Woman with a capital W, Eve with the Apple, Helen of Troy, Cleopatra, Cassandra.
Local legend had it that Cassandra's great grandmother, Charity Penrose, had sold her soul so that all of her female offspring, and their offspring for ten generations, would be beautiful. She had certainly been known to insist that beauty was a woman's best currency. The woman before him certainly gave weight to the rumor.
"You hear about my need of a man and come to fill the position?" Her gaze was amused, but there was a bit of a challenge in the set of her chin.
"I think I will be more than capable of seeing to whatever you need," Caleb said with a smile and a challenge of his own.
Cassandra stepped closer until they were mere inches apart. She bit on her full lower lip and met his gaze. "Yeah?"
He moved even closer, feeling his arousal grow. "Yeah."
"Patch the roof, then!" She gave a toss of her head and walked into the house, her laughter trailing behind her. From the darkness she called out, "Shingles in the shack. And hurry, it's going to rain later!"
Caleb looked up at the blue, cloudless sky, gave a sigh, and set to work. It didn't surprise him at all to notice the sky was completely overcast by the time he finished, and that drops of rain were beginning to fall.
Just as his stomach gave a growl, Cassandra called out that the stew was ready. When he entered the humble dwelling, he noticed the delicious smell of the stew combined with the earthy smell of multiple herbs and plants he couldn't quite identify.
As they were dining, he noted that the house had a certain old-style charm. He didn't notice a radio, however, but he suspected she didn't need one to know the weather forecast. There was a box in the corner that held a cat and a litter of nursing kittens and their gentle noises were relaxing.
Cassandra looked beautiful in the candlelight. Her skin looked clear and radiant and her eyes sparkled. The simple design of her cotton dress gave just a hint of cleavage but still left little to the imagination.
