I. An Unexpected Admirer

I.  An Unexpected Admirer

“He would have passed a pleasant life of it, in despite of the Devil and all his works, if his path had not been crossed by a being that causes more perplexity to mortal man than ghosts, goblins, and the whole race of witches put together, and that was- a woman.”

-Washington Irving, “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow”, 1820

A glorious panoply of crimson, gold, and orange leaves rustled in tree branches and shrouded lawns with fall colors.  The temperature was a crisp fifty-two degrees and a hint of bonfire smoke wafted in the breeze.  The sun was bright that day, but the forecast warned of thunderstorms around midnight.  Dramatic white cumulus clouds drifted across a fair cobalt blue sky with gray undertones that were ominous of the unperceived threat.

It was Saturday afternoon, October 20, 2007.  Young Nathan Brown was enjoying the ideal weather at an outdoor Halloween party.  The autumn colors were at their peak that weekend and the ambiance of the season was stimulating to him.

Nathan was thirty-years old and lived in the suburbs of Boston.  He was an engineer and worked for a small company in the city that manufactured conveyors and monorails.  Nathan was handsome enough with a clean-shaven face, neatly-trimmed blonde hair, friendly blue eyes, and a lean build.  He stood six feet tall in the shoes he wore to the office every day.  He was a responsible, hard-working individual and proved himself successful at most anything he set his mind to.  The only aspect of life he had difficulty with so far was trying to meet the right woman.  

  

Nathan had a bachelor’s degree in mechanical engineering, but his lifelong passion was history.  He spent much of his free time studying the seventeenth century and he collected authentic replicas of clothing, armor, and weaponry from that era.  He was interested in the English Civil War period in particular and had painstakingly assembled the kit of a Parliamentary cavalryman.  He participated in events at the Plimoth Plantation as a Puritan and at military history reenactments. 

No other season evoked the colonial era in Nathan’s imagination more than autumn.  He read early American literature during fall quarter in his eleventh grade English class and the association stuck in his mind.  Ichabod Crane raced away from the Headless Horseman on a dark autumn night.  Nathaniel Hawthorne’s Puritan characters were led astray by Satan in the haunted wilderness of the Massachusetts Bay Colony.  The folklore surrounding the Salem witch trials and Edgar Allan Poe’s macabre tales were iconic stuff for Halloween.

The witch hunts, beheadings, and death’s head tombstones that were common during Nathan’s historic period of interest lent him a gothic sensibility, and not surprisingly, Halloween was his favorite holiday.  He decorated his yard to look like a graveyard and dressed up like Solomon Kane or Van Helsing to pass out candy for trick or treat.  His mother accused him of having more fun than the little kids, and she may have been right.

Halloween was also the only time of year when wearing a costume was socially acceptable; perfect for a reenactor with a closet full of old-fashioned garb.  

When the vice-president of the company Nathan worked for announced a Halloween party for employees Nathan was excited for the occasion.  The weather would be cool enough for him to strap on his cavalryman armor more comfortably than in the summer months when it was smothering hot to wear.  It was also a chance to show off his kit to his coworkers.  Most of them knew he was a reenactor, but few people really understood what he portrayed without seeing him in it.  

Nathan donned his seventeenth century clothes early that afternoon before he left for the party, stowing his helmet, breastplate, and sword in the trunk of his car to buckle on once he got there.  His outfit consisted of heavy wool stockings gartered at the knee, gray wool breeches, thigh-high brown leather cavalry boots, a white linen shirt, a navy blue wool doublet, and a fingertip-length coat of thick tan buff leather that laced down the front. 

If he had to stop anywhere along the forty-five minute drive people would mistake him for a pilgrim who was a bit early on his way to a Thanksgiving feast.  Nathan was hardly embarrassed to wear his kit in public and actually enjoyed the reactions he got out of people at gas stations and parking lots on his way to events.

The company vice-president was a forty-nine year old man named Jeff Cloyse who had been an engineer like Nathan in his youth.  Jeff was prolific and possessed such a good business sense that he rose steadily into upper management.  He and his wife, Nancy, lived in an impeccably restored Victorian farmhouse on fifty-acres of land located in the outskirts of Boston. 

Nathan had never been to Jeff’s home before, but on first impression the place had the perfect atmosphere for a Halloween party.  The towered Queen Anne style house was set back from the state route the length of a football field with an apple orchard planted along one side of the gravel driveway.  Fields of dried, brown corn stalks standing seven feet tall surrounded the the vast yard.  Brilliant orange and red leaves fell from the limbs of majestic maple and beech trees, dappling the green grass with color.

Jeff and Nancy went all out to throw a traditional Halloween gathering and their backyard was ideal for an autumn celebration.  There was a red wooden barn filled with bushel baskets of apples and an old-fashioned press for making cider.  Massive logs smoldered on the glowing embers of a permanent fire ring, radiating warmth for anyone who caught a chill in the cool outdoors.  Hay bales, picnic tables, and rustic benches provided seating.  There was a large pile of pumpkins for carving jack-o-lanterns and Jeff’s neighbor offered rides through the corn fields in a wagon pulled by his farm tractor. 

Nathan was one of forty employees at his company.  Everyone was invited to the party along with their spouses and children.  Not everyone came, but needless to say, such a large gathering would be difficult for Jeff and Nancy to handle by themselves.  The heads of sales, engineering, and marketing volunteered to help out, and their secretaries were all too eager to pitch in also.  

The three secretaries who functioned as assistants to the departmental heads were named Kathy, Linda, and Barb.  They formed a clique of spiteful busybodies who liked to think they controlled office activities.  Sometimes it was difficult to tell what real job they performed aside from instigating drama and getting people in trouble.  They were all in their mid-to-late fifties, miserably menopausal, and scowled at everyone with their pudgy, wrinkled faces. 

Kathy and Linda were toady minions who would betray anyone to look good in front of their bosses.  Kathy was short, bulging fat, and sported a page boy hair helmet.  Her clothes were always so tight there was an office bet about who would be killed when a button finally popped off her blouse and hit someone like a bullet.  Linda was equally troll-like with a Ronald McDonald perm.  If she was waddling down the hallway it was nearly impossible to squeeze past because her hips were so wide.  She purposely aggravated people by blocking the way to the fax machine or copier.  

Barb was the most devious of the three and the ringleader of the group.  Everyone knew to be careful about what they said around Barb if they did not want to be the scapegoat in one of her schemes.  She thought she was hot stuff despite the fact that she still hairsprayed the same permed mullet she did in 1987 and caked enough makeup on to put Tammy Faye Bakker to shame.  She flaunted her saggy boobs with low-cut tops and squeezed her big, pear-shaped butt into tight skirts.  She reminded Nathan of a goblin as she creeped around the office with her hunched shoulders and hooked nose, eavesdropping on conversations and spreading rumors.

Nathan had been innocently burned by the secretary clique a couple times and he avoided them whenever possible.  All three of them were generally repulsive to him and he compared them to the three hags from Macbeth when describing them to anyone.  In fact, he joked with the other engineers all week that Kathy, Linda, and Barb should wear witch costumes to the party because they required no makeup.  

Ironically, their costumes were all from the The Wizard of Oz, but none of them dressed as the witch.  Kathy was the Scarecrow with a straw hat, flannel shirt, and bib overalls.  Linda wore a hood that looked like the Cowardly Lion’s mane over a tan sweat suit.  Barb was Dorothy with a blue dress over a white jacket, white spandex leggings, and a big bow on top of her frizzy hair.  

They thought they were being cute, but Nathan and the other engineers laughed at how ridiculous they looked. 

It was about a quarter after three.  Nathan had been at the party for about an hour.  Twenty-five or thirty employees had arrived with their spouses and families.  About half of the people present were wearing costumes with pirates, vampires, zombies, and Harry Potter characters being the most popular.

Hot dogs, brats, and hamburgers were laid out on two long party tables along with covered dishes and desserts brought by guests.  There was apple cider, lemonade, and hot chocolate to drink.  Jeff also provided a keg of Miller Lite floating in a plastic tub of ice water.  

Nathan removed his iron helmet and sat down on a hay bale with a plate of food.  He had already eaten his fill and was halfway done sipping a pint of beer when he discovered that he accidentally seated himself near the picnic table claimed by the secretaries.  The three of them returned with huge helpings of dessert and proceeded to stuff their faces while gossiping about people at the party.

“Did you see what she was wearing?” Linda snorted.

“If that was my daughter she would have never made it out the door!” Barb declared in her holier-than-thou way.

They did nothing but complain for the next five minutes.  Nathan was about to move so he didn’t have to listen to them anymore when Kathy asked something that caught his attention.

“Is Marvin coming to the party?”

“Maybe,” Barb answered. 

“Marvin told me yesterday that he wanted to stop by, but he wouldn’t be able to stay for too long because he is leaving tonight to meet with the CEO of that company in Germany.” 

Barb took pride in letting people think she was close, personal friends with Marvin, whether it was true or not. 

Marvin Harper was the owner and president of the company.  He was a hearty, outspoken man with a firm handshake and a winning personality.  He was his own best salesman for decades.  He accomplished the rare juggling act of being authoritative and likable at the same time.  Even if he needed to be harsh, Marvin treated his employees equally and fairly.

Nathan participated in a co-op program at the company while he was in college and entered full-time employment there after he graduated seven years ago.  Part of the reason Nathan took the job was because Marvin was a great boss to work for. 

Most of Nathan’s friends complained about their bosses, but Nathan rarely had issue with Marvin.  Sometimes Marvin pushed a bit hard to get big jobs done in less time, but Nathan understood that was the nature of business in any company.  Ultimately, Marvin was never completely unreasonable and, most importantly, Nathan respected the man.

“Is Cassandra going to come?” Linda’s voice asked sarcastically, pricking Nathan’s ears again.

“Who knows?  Since this party is at the vice-president’s house maybe it will be good enough for her to grace us with her presence,” Kathy answered in a snide tone.

Cassandra was Marvin’s wife.  For his part Nathan really hoped that she did come to the party. 

Cassandra was a fascinating woman to him.  Nathan always called her Mrs. Harper in person.  It seemed the most respectable and appropriate way to address her.  He was only acquainted with her, having met her just briefly on a couple occasions during his time with the company.

It was no surprise that the secretaries hated Cassandra, but nobody else ever had anything nice to say about her either.  Nathan wasn't exactly sure what made her so intolerable to people at his office because none of them knew her much better than he did and she had never done anything specific to offend anyone that he was aware of.

It seemed to Nathan that Cassandra was mostly guilty of being the owner’s wife.  She lived in Marvin’s mansion on the rich side of town.  Since she was married to money it was assumed that she was stuck-up and high-maintenance.  Nathan detected more than a little envy in the petty remarks he heard about her.  Marvin didn’t talk about her much.  He was probably aware that any story he told always got twisted into another rumor so he simply didn’t say anything about her.

When it came right down to it, though, Nathan had never known Cassandra to be anything but pleasant.  She was the most poised and elegant woman he had ever met.  He actually made an effort to be near her at the parties she attended.

The few times he had talked to Cassandra she was very polite.  Her intelligence and sophistication were immediately recognizable to anyone in her company for even two minutes.  She was soft-spoken, but very articulate.  Conversation with her was always quiet and cheerfully neutral.  She seemed very unassuming and never talked about herself.  Cassandra struck him as a lady in the strict sense of the word.

Nathan supposed that Cassandra’s polished nature made her intimidating to a lot of people, but for his part he wished he could meet a girl his own age who carried herself the way Cassandra did.  Twenty-something-year-old women weren’t too concerned about being “ladylike” anymore, and that was a shame in his opinion.

Marvin was adamant about the importance of keeping office morale high so he came to every employee function he could including informal parties held by individual employees.  Cassandra rarely came to office functions with him.  She typically attended the Christmas party and sometimes the company picnic.  She never came with him to any of the smaller events.  For that reason alone Nathan’s coworkers accused her of being a snob who thought she was better than everyone else.  

It didn’t help that she was a little standoffish and rather private at the functions she did attend.  Everyone wanted to make her out to be some haughty “lady of the manor”.  Nathan suspected that she might just be shy. 

All of this aside, Nathan had to admit that he couldn’t help having a soft spot for Cassandra because he thought she was one of the most beautiful women he ever met.

Cassandra was an older woman.  She was married to his boss.  She belonged to a wealthy class that he would probably never know on an engineer’s income.  She was the epitome of a lady on the pedestal to be admired from afar.  Somehow the fact that she was utterly untouchable made her all the more alluring any time he was near her.

Nobody else at work seemed to notice how lovely she was, or at least they didn’t admit it.  On the rare occasion that she passed through the office he never heard any of his coworkers describe her as anything more than “attractive for her age”.  Nathan thought that was a gross underestimation of her looks.  However, he also understood that she was not a woman the average guy would consider blatantly sexy.  

Cassandra was the kind of woman you might walk right past in the grocery store and not necessarily even notice that she was pretty.  Something about her made her very unobtrusive.  But if you paused to take a closer look, the regularity of her features was exquisitely delicate and feminine.

She dressed every bit the part of an upper class matron.  She never wore anything the slightest bit revealing.  Any time Nathan saw her she was buttoned up prim and proper in a neatly-pressed blouse and a blazer or an Oxford shirt and a cardigan sweater.  It wasn’t unusual for her to wear a pearl necklace under her shirt collar.  She usually wore skirts and they always reached well below her knees.

Her buttoned-up style was actually very sexy to Nathan.  She reminded him of the fashion models in the JCPenney catalogs that he used to lust after as a teenage boy.  Although Cassandra’s outfit might cover her completely from neck to ankles with a bow tied at her throat, her blouse would be made of shimmering satin, her sweater would be cashmere, and her jacket would often be tailored in sleek leather.  Modest or not, she clearly appreciated fine clothes.  This implied a sensuality to Nathan that made her very enticing to him.

Nobody else seemed to appreciate her understated beauty or elegant fashion sense except Nathan.  Whenever she came into the office wearing a full-length black leather coat as she sometimes did in cold weather lewd remarks about “the dominatrix” spread like wildfire through the cubicles.  Nathan, however, was so distracted by how gorgeous she looked in her spectacular leather coat that he was unable to concentrate for the rest of the afternoon. 

Most recently she was ridiculed for the outfit she wore to the company picnic.  Popular opinion was that she overdressed for a September afternoon in sixty-five degree weather at a park.  Nathan was not sure if it was the glossy brown leather blazer draped about her shoulders, the popped collar of her crisp blouse, or her long floral-print silk skirt that was too fancy, but the office joke the week afterwards was that she thought she was going to the country club instead of a picnic.

If anyone complimented Cassandra at all it was merely to point out that she always looked the same, and even then it usually wasn’t meant to be a compliment.

Marvin was fifty-six years old.  He was a tall, robust man with broad shoulders and a powerful build.  He played golf and tennis regularly.  He was extremely fit, but the bags under his eyes and his thinning gray hair clearly showed his age.

Cassandra’s age was impossible to guess, though.  The woman never seemed to change.  No one had ever seen a single strand of gray in her thick red hair.  She was Marvin’s only wife and they had been married for as long as anyone could remember.  Nothing was known about a significant age difference when they were wed so it was reasonable to assume that she was fifty at the very least.

Older guys in the office joked about how unnatural it was that Cassandra still looked exactly the same as she did the first time they met her twenty years ago and Nathan didn’t think they were exaggerating. 

Cassandra seemed to exist in an ageless state of “thirtysomething”.  Her demeanor and body language were a bit too mature for her to be that young.  However, she had the most perfectly smooth complexion anyone had ever seen and her slender figure remained in remarkable shape.  Her unrevealing clothes didn’t disguise her youthful curves and her perky bosom stood out high and firm in anything she wore. 

The secretaries gossiped that she must have the world’s greatest cosmetic surgeon.  They ridiculed that she couldn’t come to many social functions because her schedule was too busy with Botox injections.  People accused Marvin of robbing the cradle with increasing frequency.  He just laughed off the ridiculous claims and bragged that his wife looked good simply because she took care of herself.  He claimed that her youthfulness was the result of a careful diet and healthy lifestyle that he tried to adhere to himself, but with less success.

Apparently Cassandra cooked all their meals from scratch and she was very strict about eating only organic foods.  She cultivated an herb garden in their backyard and knew old-fashioned remedies for every ailment.  People chattered that maybe she concocted some elixir of youth for herself and she didn’t share it with Marvin. 

Whatever her secret was, Cassandra looked amazing and Nathan personally thought it was awesome that she did.  As far as he was concerned those ugly cows in the office break room could moan all they wanted about her.  They were obviously jealous that she was probably just as old as they were, but appeared half their age.

He took a drink of his beer.

Conversations going on around him grew noticeably quiet as he lowered his cup.

"Well speak of the devil.  She's heeere..." Linda hissed.

"Nice witch costume," Kathy scoffed sarcastically.

“Oh wait.  Those are just her regular clothes.”

Nathan’s pulse quickened as he caught sight of Marvin and Cassandra walking across the yard.   

Cassandra’s outfit didn’t surprise him, nor did it disappoint. 

A sculpted black leather witch’s hat with a curved brim was cocked neatly atop her red hair.  She was buttoned in her long, shiny black leather coat with the notched collar turned up wickedly around her neck.  A white shirt collar stuck out at her throat, layered over a crimson turtleneck.  Black leather gloves gleamed on her hands and polished black leather boots were visible below the hem of her coat.

Wow!  She looked fantastic!  She was the prettiest Halloween witch he had ever seen, done up in sleek black leather from head to toe!

She placed a pie on the dessert table and quickly returned to her husband’s side.

Marvin wore a dark orange turtleneck, charcoal tweed pants, and loafers topped off with a brown leather bomber jacket.  He made his way among the guests, shaking hands and introducing Cassandra to people who hadn’t met her.  His booming voice and boisterous laughter carried across the open field.

Simply being in Cassandra’s presence stirred Nathan with nervous excitement.  His senses tingled at the thrilling sight of the beautiful woman.  He was sitting at the far side of the yard.  He would have raced over to greet her immediately, but everyone was watching and he didn’t want to be accused of kissing-up to the boss’s wife right off the bat. 

Thus, he waited anxiously, barely tasting last few swallows of the beer he finished.

Cassandra smiled graciously and alternately gave a small wave or politely offered a gentle hand to the other guests.  If not spoken to she stood in patient silence close beside Marvin with a pleasant expression and her hands folded in front of her.  She always stuck close to Marvin at social events and made little effort to mingle.  It was one of the reasons people thought she was snobby.

The secretaries continued to ridicule her.

“So if she is a witch do you think she will melt if we throw water on her?” Barb snickered to her cronies.

“We couldn’t get that lucky,” Linda croaked.

“Yeah.  Besides, her skin is probably Teflon-coated and waterproof by now,” Kathy gibed.

They cackled among themselves mockingly.

Nathan shook his head.  How did those three middle-aged fat women in goofy costumes possibly think they could put down a sophisticated lady like Cassandra?  

The clique shushed their commentary as Marvin and Cassandra approached them.  Nathan sighed with frustration as Barb practically tackled them with open arms.  Kathy and Linda scuttled at her heels.

“Oh!  Mr. Harper!  It’s so good of you to take time out of your busy schedule to join us!” Barb crooned.

“And Cassandra!  It’s wonderful to see you again!  You look fabulous... as always!”

Nathan thought he might puke with disgust as the three of them fawned over Cassandra’s outfit and complimented her on how nice she looked.  

“Watch out girls!” Barb warned impishly.

“It looks like the Wicked Witch of the West has caught up with us!”

Marvin chuckled jovially.  

Cassandra responded only with a strained smile and kept a respectful distance.  She was clearly not comfortable around the secretaries and Nathan gave her credit for not falling for their flattery.  After all, they were responsible for stirring up most of the nasty gossip about her.  Her long leather coat would undoubtedly be the topic of their conversation at the office on Monday.  He could already hear the stupid jokes about her starring in The Matrix.  

Nathan quickly stood up and put his helmet on as Marvin pried himself away from the clique and headed toward him.

“Hey Mr. Harper!” he called out.

“Nathan!  Good to see you!” Marvin exclaimed, shaking his hand with a hard squeeze.

“Boy!  You weren’t kidding about dressing the part!  Look at that helmet and breastplate!  You look like one of them old pot belly stoves!”

Marvin put his hands on his hips and looked him over.

“You ought to let me take that sword to work!  I think I could use it at our next production meeting!”

Nathan chuckled at Marvin’s joke as Cassandra returned to her husband’s side, leaves crunching under her boots.

“Cassandra, you remember Nathan don’t you?” Marvin asked rhetorically.

Judging from her response Nathan guessed that she had not noticed him until that very instant.

“Oh my!” she exclaimed.

Her lovely green eyes widened and her crimson lips parted as her jaw dropped.

She demurely placed her gloved left hand on her breast.

Somehow it was an immediate turn on for him to see her touch her leather-coated bosom with her leather-gloved hand.

Nathan mentioned to Marvin at work that he was going to wear his armor that afternoon.  Marvin said he would be sure to tell Cassandra because she liked history and she might enjoy seeing his costume.

Apparently she liked his costume far more than Marvin expected.

Nathan had probably met Cassandra a dozen times over the years.  She never greeted him with anything more than cordial politeness.  She gaped at him now as if she had never seen him before.  She almost acted like she was in a trance.

Taking advantage of the moment, he thought he would play the role of the chivalrous cavalier.  He removed his helmet and tucked it under his left arm.

Summoning up his nerve, he then took up her small right hand and kissed it with a courteous bow.

“A pleasure M’lady,” he said with a grin.

Her delicate hand was incredibly soft and dainty.  Her smooth black lambskin glove was cool and slick against his lips.

Her leather coat sleeve slid back from her wrist as her arm extended.  The top edge of her glove crinkled against the buttoned white cuff of her blouse.

Cassandra didn’t resist him or pull away.  Her emerald eyes sparkled with delight.  She clearly liked such treatment.

Her fingers gently clung to his for a moment as he let go of her.

“Oh my!” she repeated again, fanning herself with her hands.

Her cheeks blushed a warm peach hue.

“That... is a remarkable costume!” she gasped.

“I have not seen a man dressed like that in many, many years…”

Her voice trailed off as if she was talking to herself.

She plucked at the top button of her coat nervously.  The collar of her blouse quivered about her throat.

Nathan stiffened as his ears detected the sound of her leather coat creaking, barely audible in the open air.  It was a softer, more subtle noise than his buff coat or the straps of his armor made.  He was suddenly glad that his pants were puffy and his suede coat covered him down to his thighs. 

He had never gotten such a strong reaction to his kit before, especially not from a beautiful woman.  Guys were usually more enthusiastic about his costume either for its authenticity or just because steel armor and swords were cool.  Women generally didn’t care or knew nothing about it to comment on.

He was shocked that Cassandra had ever seen anyone dressed like him at all, much less be impressed by it.

“Are you alright dear?” Marvin chuckled with a bewildered expression, placing a hand on her back.

Cassandra glanced at her husband self-consciously.  

“I am sorry!  Please forgive me!” she apologized, ducking her head and swiping her hands over her leather coat as she composed herself.

“No problem Mrs. Harper,” Nathan shrugged, trying his best to be nonchalant.

“I’m glad you like my kit!”

Marvin looked as taken aback by her reaction as Nathan was.

“You’ve met Nathan before haven’t you dear?  He’s been with the company for six or seven years now,” her husband clarified.

“Of course I remember Nathaniel!” she replied emphatically.

“I could never forget... Nathaniel.”

She looked at him again and smiled warmly.

She always called him Nathaniel for some reason.  She was the only person who did and he didn’t mind because it was her.

Marvin raised a fist to his mouth and cleared his voice.

“Yeah.  Cassandra likes reading those romance novels set way back in history,” he explained.

“You must remind her of one of them dashing swashbucklers she daydreams about to get her all worked up like that!”

Nathan nodded in acknowledgement and chuckled along with him.

“Yes,” Cassandra agreed with a half-hearted smile, turning her head the opposite way.

“Someone like that, perhaps.”

There was an uncomfortable pause.

“Marvin!  Glad you could make it!” another man’s voice interrupted them.

Jeff, the host of the party, clapped Marvin on the shoulder and shook his hand.

Jeff was dressed like the Frankenstein monster with green face paint and a ridiculous flat-topped headpiece with bolts sticking out on the sides.

“Hey!  There’s the man!  We wouldn’t miss it,” Marvin exclaimed turning away from Nathan.

“You’re flying out tonight, aren't you?  How long can you stay?” Jeff asked.

“About an hour or so.  My flight leaves at 9:45,” Marvin said.

The two men stepped aside.

Nathan glanced back at Cassandra and was surprised to find her staring at him again.

For the first time since their arrival she did not immediately follow on Marvin’s heels.  She didn’t even seem to notice her husband walking off with Jeff.

Her sparkling emerald eyes were fixed on him and her leather fingers continued to pluck absently at her buttons.  Her leather coat gleamed with the slick, whitish-blue shine that can only be produced by natural light on a chilly day.

Her eyes quickly averted as he met her gaze.

“It’s nice to see you again Mrs. Harper,” he stammered, not sure what else to say.

“Yes.  It is marvelous to truly see you once more as well Nathaniel,” she answered, glancing at him through long, batting lashes.

She slipped her hands into her coat pockets and shifted her weight.

“After so many years... I never thought it possible that I should behold you again...”

Her voice faded into silence.  Her eyes became distant as if she wasn’t looking at him, but through him.

He wondered why she was acting so strangely.  Why wouldn’t it be possible to “behold” him again?  Didn’t she remember seeing him at the company picnic only a month ago?

“Uh, yeah.  Mr. Harper said that you might enjoy seeing my kit,” he said. 

“He told me that you would be dressed in a pilgrim costume, but I never expected you to be so… real,” she responded, focusing on him again. 

“Well, that’s because this isn’t just a costume,” he elaborated.

“Everything I am wearing is real just like they would have worn in the seventeenth century; from my linen undershirt to my wool breeches.  I’ve done a lot of research to make sure it is all correct for the period.”

“You have obviously done your research well.  I have never seen anyone look so authentic!” she complimented him again.

Her face brightened with a friendly smile that made his stomach churn.

“I would very much like to talk with you about your historical interests, Nathaniel.  I suspect that you and I have much in common.”

Nathan’s mind reeled!  He would be thrilled to tell her about his hobby!  It wasn’t everyday that a gorgeous woman shared his interest in history.  

Before he could say another word Marvin’s voice boomed abruptly over her shoulder.

“Aha!”

“Oh!” Cassandra jumped with a gasp, pressing a hand to her chest as her husband stepped beside her again.

“For heaven’s sake, Marvin!  You startled me!”

“So the cavalier is still trying to sweep you off your feet I see!” Marvin chuckled, winking at Nathan with a jovial grin.  

He obviously had no clue how attracted Nathan was to his wife or he probably wouldn’t joke about such a thing.

“Do not be ridiculous.  Nathaniel is a perfect gentleman,” Cassandra said, giving her husband a perturbed look.

“I was just going to ask him about his wonderful costume.”

“Maybe you two can talk in a little bit.  We can’t stay for too long and we should eat something before we leave!” Marvin said enthusiastically, drawing her away with an arm around her shoulders. 

The sleeve of his leather jacket squeaked audibly against her leather coat.

She let out a sigh of disappointment.

“Yes.  I suppose you are right, dear.  You will not have time to eat before you leave for the airport otherwise,” she agreed.

She glanced back at Nathan with exasperation, the collar of her leather coat flapping against her cheek.

“Have you eaten, Nathaniel?  You are welcome to join us,” she offered, extending a shiny, gloved hand out to him.

“Thanks Mrs. Harper, but I’ve already had three bratwurst and two pieces of pumpkin pie!  I’m stuffed!” he told her as Marvin bustled her away.

“It’s okay.  Go on and get something to eat.  Maybe we’ll get to talk when you’re done.”

“Oh.  Very well,” she sighed again, dropping her arm.

“Come on, honey.  I’m starving!  Let’s go see what kind of food people brought!” Marvin urged in his boisterous way.

She followed him, her leather coat rippling in shiny creases about her slender hourglass figure as she went.  

Nathan’s stomach continued to roll with excitement for a few minutes longer as he watched Cassandra.  

Her behavior left him puzzled, but in a good way.  He didn’t know what it was, but something about him clearly got her all hot and bothered.  He seriously doubted that it was just because he liked history and was dressed like a seventeenth century cavalier.  Whatever her new-found interest in him was her reaction excited him, probably way more than it should.  He reminded himself that she was much older than him and she was married to his boss.

One thing was for sure; Cassandra looked incredible dressed in her leather outfit!  

He put his helmet back on and picked up his mug.

Several people quickly turned their heads away as he started toward the keg to get another beer.  The secretary clique blatantly leered at him like a pack of hyenas.  They giggled and hissed something about “swashbucklers” as he made his way across the clearing.

He ignored them.  

Somebody dressed in a werewolf costume leaped out and grabbed him.

Nathan didn’t flinch. 

It was one of the other engineers named Ryan.  He howled playfully for a moment before taking his mask off.

“Dude!  You did not just kiss the Wicked Witch’s hand did you?” he harassed.

“Give her a break man.  Mrs. Harper is a nice lady,” Nathan responded, defending her without hesitation.

Ryan raised his eyebrows.

“Nice?  Yeah.  Nice, if you’re into witches and leather.  Oh yeah.  I forgot.  That is what you’re into isn’t it?” he teased sarcastically.

“Hey!  Shut up man!” Nathan retorted, pushing Ryan away with his elbow.

“Chill out!  I’m just giving you a hard time dude!  I know you’ve got a sweet spot for Mrs. Harper,” Ryan laughed.

“I don’t have a sweet spot for her,” Nathan lied.

“I just think you guys shouldn’t judge somebody you don’t really know.”

“Well, maybe we would know her if she associated with any of us, but she’s too good to hang out with us little people.  She seems to have taken a liking to you, though.  Maybe she thinks you are her knight in shining armor,” Ryan continued mockingly.

“You’re so full of crap,” Nathan replied.

  

Ryan was the same age as Nathan.  He was muscular with wavy brown hair and was apparently quite talented at picking up ladies at nightclubs according to the stories he told of his many conquests.  He was a good engineer, but as a person he could be a real jerk.

Nathan shouldered his way past Ryan and walked onward, shaking his head.  He needed another beer just to put up with his coworkers long enough to see Cassandra again.  

He was drinking from the same mug he used at reenactment events; a leather jack lined with brewer’s pitch.  He filled it with a second frothing pint at the keg.  

Jeff’s wife Nancy was an attractive, aging brunette in her late forties.  She was dressed as the Bride of Frankenstein complete with green makeup and tall hair to match her husband.  Over the next half hour she and some of the other mothers supervised activities for the children at the party.  There was a galvanized tub to dunk for apples, jack-o-lantern carving, scavenger hunts for bags of candy corn, and a small fort made of hay bales for kids to climb on.  The main event was a costume contest for children under the age of ten.  Several of the older kids disappeared into the cornfield maze, running and laughing as they raced each other through it. 

The party was in full swing, but Nathan was so utterly distracted by Cassandra that he scarcely noticed anyone else around him.  He hovered within sight of her, hardly taking his eyes off of her as he sipped his beer nervously.  He hoped it wasn’t too conspicuous that he was gawking at her.  She glanced his way more than once from the corner of her eyes.  He would quickly look away and nonchalantly move to another spot to get a different view. 

Marvin seated himself at a picnic table with a heaping plate of food.  Cassandra perched on the bench beside him with a small serving of sauteed apples, a scoop of squash casserole, and a sliver of pumpkin pie on her paper plate.  Handling her plastic fork with her gloved hands, she fed herself with more decorum than anyone else he knew could conjure dining from fine China with silver flatware. 

Once Cassandra finished eating she sought the warmth of the bonfire along with a few of the engineers’ wives.  Marvin, Jeff, and some of the company management remained seated at the picnic table, engaged in conversation about the impending business deal with the German company.

Cassandra clutched a styrofoam cup filled with warm tea in her shiny leather hands while she chatted with the other ladies.  She was easily the most attractive woman of the group and far prettier than any of the younger women at the party as well in Nathan’s opinion.  The sleek sophistication of her svelte, leather-coated figure contrasted sharply with her casually-dressed peers who looked quite plain and dumpy in comparison.

Cassandra was an inch or two taller than average, standing about five-foot-eight in her boots.  She had the erect posture of a grammar school teacher.  She did not slouch or strut, but comported herself with a controlled self-awareness that lent her an air of dignity.  The virtuous tone of her voice and her staid mannerisms very much reminded him of the actress Maureen O’Hara. 

Most of his coworkers called her a prude and wearing a leather coat only got her accused all the more of being cold and stern.  Regardless of whether she was demure or frigid, nobody could deny that she was utterly immaculate.  She was clearly very particular about her appearance.  She would probably be mortified to ever be seen with a stain unwashed, a wrinkle unpressed, or a button unfastened out of neglect.  Every crease in her blouse was purposeful and the arrangement of her collar was precise. 

Some might call her uptight.  Nathan called her classy. 

Her voluminous burnt orange hair was done in a side-parted flip that framed her face and curved inward just above her shoulders.  Nathan had no doubt that doing her hair was a meticulous daily ritual and an explicit point of ladylike vanity for her.  The tall leather witch hat she wore that afternoon was carefully positioned on her head so that the brim did not flatten the sweep of her bangs or cover her brow. 

Cassandra possessed a delicate, natural beauty that left a hollow, aching pit in his stomach just to look at her.  He would describe her as a combination of the angelic aura of Jaclyn Smith, the red-headed vibrance of Laura Leighton, and the chaste sex appeal of Roma Downey.

The only makeup he could tell that she wore was lipstick and maybe some mascara.  She was sensible enough not to cover her perfect porcelain skin with heavy cosmetics.  But then, she did not have a single freckle or blemish to conceal.  Her creamy complexion was flawless and youthful as ever.

He studied her face trying to discern some hint of her age.  As always, there were no wrinkles or sagging skin to be found.  There were no creases on her smooth forehead and no crow’s feet or bags around her eyes.  Her cheekbones were high and her nose was small, straight, and inconspicuous.  Faint laugh lines indented only slightly when she smiled with her mouth open.  Her jawline was taut.  

If he did not implicitly know that she was probably over fifty he would never believe it.  Her ageless quality was truly amazing.  He never thought he could find a woman who was twenty years older than him so attractive. 

The emerald brilliance of Cassandra’s eyes was bewitching.  They seemed to be illuminated with a haunting green light from within.  The gentle angle of her brows and the upward slope of her lids expressed a sincere kindness and feminine vulnerability that he found very endearing.  Shadows cast by her long, thick lashes imparted an aspect of heart-aching melancholy if she lowered her head a certain way. 

Nathan couldn’t help but wonder what the cause of her sadness may be.

As mesmerizing as her eyes were it was her sensual lips that captivated him the most.  Her wide grin was modest and friendly, revealing straight, pearly white teeth.  When her mouth was closed, her plump crimson lips curved into a coy upside-down smile.  Something in the pretty pout of her soft, full lips registered to him as extremely wholesome, tender, and infinitely kissable.

The white shirt collar that stood crisply from her coat lapels was open at the glistening top two buttons to accommodate the crimson turtleneck that clung to her slender neck.  

Her leather coat was made of supple black lambskin; the kind that shines wetly in any kind of light.  The notched collar was rolled about halfway up along the back edge so that it splayed above her shoulders.  The pointed lapels were wide and tapered in sharply to close at the top button between her breasts.  Five marbled black buttons sealed her inside the semi-fitted coat.  It molded smoothly over her shoulders and her bosom, but otherwise rippled and flowed about her petite figure in shifting glossiness.  A horizontal seam marked her waistline between the second and third buttons. 

She often folded her small, tapered hands one over the other at her waist.  His pulse would quicken as her gloved fingertips brushed over the shiny leather buttoned around her sleek abdomen.  The pressure of her arms gathered the leather into gleaming creases under her breasts, accentuating the rounded prominence of her chest.  Three buttons glittered on each cuff. 

Nathan studied her from behind as he made his way around.  Her coat was detailed with a three-pointed batwing yoke and a back belt that buttoned at both sides of her waist, drawing the coat in gently about her hourglass torso.  Flaps could be buttoned over the slash pockets on her hips, but were pushed inside.  The coat’s long skirt was pleated in a deep gusset down the middle with a walking vent that was fastened shut by three buttons.  The upper half of her black leather boots was covered by her coat.  They were polished and dressy, but comfortable-looking with rounded toes and three-inch stacked heels. 

Aside from the blouse and turtleneck inside her coat, her outfit was entirely made of leather!  

Wow!

Fall was the ultimate “leather weather” and Nathan always anticipated the prospect of women buttoning up in long leather coats as the air outside turned crisp and cool.  Seeing an attractive lady like Cassandra in a shiny leather coat was something that he privately found very stimulating for as long as he could remember.

Slipping her hands into her coat pockets, Cassandra made her way across the yard.  The glow of the evening sun cast fiery highlights in her lustrous red hair and her leather coat gleamed golden yellow from shoulder to hem.  She was an autumn goddess; the epitome of what he loved best about the season. 

She paused, her eyes searching among the guests until she spotted him!  The expression on her pretty face brightened again.  Nathan ducked his head as he realized that he was staring back at her!

His heart leaped in his chest as she approached him!  

“Hello again, Nathaniel,” she smiled in her quiet way.

“Hey Mrs. Harper,” he responded in a calm voice that downplayed the rolling excitement in his stomach.

“Do you like my coat?” she asked, peering at him innocently.

“What?” he blurted, caught completely off guard. 

The blood rushed to his face.

“I mean, why do you ask, Mrs. Harper?” he chuckled nervously.

“Because you keep looking at it,” she observed in her astute way.

He began to sweat with embarrassment.  He was busted!

“Uh... yeah.  It’s just that, well, um, it looks really nice on you,” he stammered breathlessly.

“Oh!  Thank you!” she said as if he had simply paid her a nice compliment.

Her polished coat buttons flashed as she glanced down at herself and swiped her hands over her flat belly and hips.  White streaks traced behind her fingers in the shiny black leather.

“I bought this coat about five years ago in Quebec.  It is positively delightful to wear!  The leather is so soft and supple it feels like butter.  And I really like the vintage details.  It reminds me of a leather coat I used to wear back in the 1970s,” she explained further, tugging her right lapel with her slick leather fingers.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and wiped the sweat from his brow.

She clearly had no inkling that he might view her leather coat in an erotic context.  She described it like one of the women hosting the shopping network.

It also occurred to him that if she was old enough to wear a leather coat in the 1970s she had to be at least fifty-years-old.

“Your witch hat is really cool, Mrs. Harper,” he remarked, swiftly changing the subject. 

“Oh!  I’m glad you like it!” she answered, running her tapered leather fingertips along the curved brim.

“Yeah.  I’ve never seen a witch hat made of real leather in any costume shops.  They’re always cheap and made out of nylon or vinyl,” he added.

“Where did you get it?”

“This hat is a one of a kind item that I bought at King Richard’s Faire just last weekend.  I was looking for a souvenir and a young lady in the hat shop there sold it to me,” she told him.

“At the renaissance festival?” he interjected, thinking out loud.

“Yeah!  I know exactly the shop you’re talking about now that you mention it!”

“Have you been to the renaissance faire?” she asked.

“There aren’t too many places a person can wear clothes like these in public, Mrs. Harper,” he chuckled, gesturing toward himself.

“Oh yes!  I suppose not,” she acknowledged.

“I usually go there a couple times a season while it is going on,” he added.

“I see.  Well, I happened to be wearing this coat the day I went and the girl in the shop pointed out how the black leather hat matched it.  If I wore them together I had an instant witch costume!  I thought of this party coming up and how it was probably going to be chilly.  Being able to wear my coat as part of my costume seemed like a clever way for me to keep warm,” she told him, smoothing the notched lapels of her leather coat upon her bosom with a gloved hand.

He nodded, hanging on her every word. 

“Seems pretty smart to me,” he agreed. 

“And you look great too!”

“Thank you,” she blushed.

He was suddenly very disappointed that he was not at the festival the day she was there in her leather coat.

“So do you like going to the renaissance festival?” he asked.

“Oh, it is amusing in a carnival sort of way.  Marvin has no interest in it so I go with a friend once a year.  She is involved in theater and knows some of the performers there.  I enjoy looking in some of the shops.  There are certain herbs I pick up there that I cannot find anywhere else,” she explained.

He nodded again.

“I would enjoy it better if there were more people like yourself there, Nathaniel.  The festival is advertised as historic, but there is very little there I recognize as being historic.  Most of the performers just remind me of hippies from the 1970s.  Even the actors playing the king and his court are presenting fairy tale nonsense to the audience,” she said.

“That’s a big gripe I have with ren-faires too, Mrs. Harper!” he agreed. 

“I always love meeting people like you who recognize what is actually historic and what is not.”

“The most preposterous thing I saw last time was two young ladies dressed up in wild-looking witch costumes performing a fake ritual in the middle of the lane.  They had a goat that could do tricks and they placed a caged toad in the middle of a pentagram drawn in the dirt while they chanted a spell.  And they did this right there in broad daylight for all the world to see!” she elaborated.

“Yeah, there’s a lot of that New Age Wiccan stuff at faires these days,” he groaned.

“Well I thought it to be in rather poor taste to make light of such a thing!” she huffed.

“Once the girls were done I let them know that I found their performance to be rather offensive.”

She pursed her lips and slipped her hands deeply into her coat pockets.

He was somewhat confused about the point she was making.  Even though she was wearing a witch hat he knew that Cassandra was a very religious person.  She was a devout member of a big Presbyterian church and never missed going to the Sunday morning service.  Marvin griped about it sometimes because she made him go with her and he would rather play golf.

“Were you offended because they were acting like witches?” he asked. 

“Not at all.  I was upset because acting like a woman would dare cast a spell in public is absurd!  If a poor girl was even accused of witchcraft in those days it meant almost certain death for her!” Cassandra exclaimed.  

He nodded.

“Yeah.  Thousands of women were accused of witchcraft and most of them were completely innocent.  Heck, Mrs. Harper, you could have been accused just because you have red hair!” he added with a grin.

She didn’t smile back.  Her expression remained stern. 

“Indeed.  Cruel and ignorant people pointed fingers to suit their purpose.  Women were tortured into confession, falsely charged, and then hanged, drowned, or burned at the stake.  Those silly girls at that festival have no idea how utterly terrifying it was to be accused of witchcraft back then!  No woman would dare hint at any knowledge of magic if she valued her life!” Cassandra expounded vehemently.

Her features were animated as she spoke.  Her green eyes seemed to glow.  She pinched the top button of her coat between her pointed thumb and index finger.  She twisted the button so tightly that he feared she might snap the thread. 

“Wow Mrs. Harper!  You obviously have a strong opinion on the subject,” he noted with a chuckle.

Her expression lightened as she glanced at him again.  She dropped her hands, patting her thighs with a leathery slap.

“Please, forgive me.  You asked me about going to a festival and I launched into a tirade about persecuted women,” she apologized, placing her hand on his arm.

He tingled at her touch, wishing he could feel more than just the dull pressure of her gloved hand through his clothes. 

“It’s okay, Mrs. Harper.  Events like the Inquisition and the Salem Witch Trials were definitely huge tragedies.  Unfortunately, defenseless women have been a target through most of history and they often suffered the most,” he said.

“If only there were more gallant men like you to protect us defenseless women, Nathaniel, perhaps such tragedies would be less likely to occur,” she smiled.

“I don’t know how gallant I am,” Nathan grinned modestly.

“I would like to think I would do the right thing if the situation called for it, but nobody can say how brave they are until tested.”

“I am sure you would act according to your heart if called upon to do so,” she said, scrutinizing him with her sparkling green eyes.

He grinned stupidly and looked away.