"Ready for another?"  The bartender inquired.
        "Not yet," Meredith said brightly, tapping the rim of her wine glass.
        The bartender's attention faded fast.  Just like the other men in the wood-paneled bar.  She never had met anybody worthwhile in a bar including popular places like this one, Gideon's Pub, with its attractive hunter green accents and flaunting a giant screen for sports broadcasts.  Seven months ago a newly accredited C.P.A. celebrating passage of his exams had made overtures to her, but he hadn't ignited any sparks in Meredith. Some months after the C.P.A. a plumber had elicited sparks, but he'd used vocabulary fitting for the construction site that he had just left - guttural and obscene.  So why had she let Camille talk her into coming here?  Because it beat battling holiday crowds in malls where during a traditional family season, the isolation of being unattached was heightened.  Because going home meant returning a call to her mother whom she had put off earlier in the day with the excuse that she had the year-end payroll to reconcile.  It had been the truth, but Meredith was noted for her organizational skills.  The bonus checks were prepared, and no last minute calculation glitches ever caught her unawares.  The avoidance of mother related to church.
        Discussing her lack of interest was an on-going, no-win conversation with her Born-Again mother who became especially zealous during Christmas.  Her critical mother's beliefs were right for her, and Meredith
respected her choice,  but personally?  She couldn't relate to Satan and sin and instant forgiveness.  Where was justice for the steady of faith?  And how could religious organizations support such a flock of hypocrites?  She had first hand knowledge working at the national headquarters of an ecumenical service agency formed for the solepurpose of raising funds for an array of Christian causes.  The ministers in charge of the organization were notcompetent executives.  Instead of running the agency like a business dependent on profit to exist, they tried to behumane and charitable as their Bible taught. Commendable, but it was easy for the less scrupulous to take advantage.  Money was frittered on personal long distance phone calls, faxes, photocopies, and the biggest abuse, travel expenses.  Human Resources gave lip service to a strict policy for reimbursement, but it was not implemented, even in flagrant situations.  Meredith wondered if the rules might be tighter if certain employee-types were not so vocal.  Theoretically, an infraction was an infraction whoever was guilty, but the flourishing of employee rights laws had backlashed.  Afraid of litigation, employers avoided conflict.
        The financial waste born by donors was not the only cost, either.  Her own boss was always trying to appease everybody.  As a result, he never made a clear decision and frequently left his staff floundering or feeling betrayed by his lack of support.  Morale often ebbed.
        The salary was mediocre, and it was not a place she'd ever find a man who would appeal to her, yet one major vantage kept Meredith locked in -  fantastic benefits.  She had discovered upon being hired that the poor,
itinerant clergy was a myth left behind decades ago.  Religious personnel liked their rewards in this life and againwith donor dollars, provided generous pensions and health coverage for staff.  Her father, the fast-talking salesman, had always cut corners to maintain a flamboyant lifestyle.  No insurance and his lingering cancer had bankrupted the family when Meredith was fifteen.  As a top priority in seeking a job, then, she had desired security.  It was also why she specialized as a paymaster because of the control.  She assured the correct and timely payment of an employee's compensation, including her own.
        Meredith took a sip of her white wine and hoped she looked nonchalant, but she was getting very uncomfortable.  The bar wasn't packed yet, but Camille had wandered far enough where Meredith could no longer
hear her talking with the two men that she knew.  She refused to allow herself to search.  It would seem...desperate.  Which was becoming true, but not entirely.  Not yet.
        Camille was an associate more than a friend.  Single and thirty bound them along with employment at the agency.  Her position was in public relations and exciting compared to Meredith's in accounting.  She also had
flashier looks.  They were both blonde, but Camille's bleached hair was platinum.  Meredith had a trim figure, but Camille was an inch taller and fifteen pounds lighter.  Camille applied the gamut in makeup; the finished look was sophisticated.  Meredith used just the basics; the finished look was natural.  Camille dressed up her suits with silk blouses and spike heels.  Meredith preferred tailored shirts and sensible pumps.  In the superficial atmosphere of a trendy bar, Camille would attract men whereas Meredith wouldn't.
        And Meredith should have realized it before she had agreed to come here.  Previously, she and Camille had done lunch.  This drinks ‘thing' had finally been arranged after Meredith had run out of reasons not to.
        Meredith studied her glass.  One more swallow and it would be empty.  Order another and torture herself more?  Casually slip off the stool and glance indifferently around the room for Camille?  Advise Camille that she was leaving?  (Thankfully she had insisted on driving her own car.)  Force herself on the threesome?  If they had wanted her to join them, they would have asked her.
        "Meredith!"  Camille exclaimed.  "My cousin is here!"
        Meredith swivelled on her stool.  Camille's cousin had long, curly ash brown hair, dark blue eyes and a white smile.  Aside from the trim beard, he looked like Camille would look if she didn't bleach her hair.  He didn't dress
like Camille, though, or share her slim elegance.  The patterned sweater vest, tweed jacket, corduroy pants and brown walking shoes on the burly body were more in keeping with her own clothing taste.
        "Nathan was at a party in the restaurant and we ran into each other by the bathrooms."  Camille laughed, and the two men with her laughed inanely.  Nathan gave them a sideways glance of amused tolerance.
        So, get off the stool and shake Nathan's hand?  Or just offer her hand?  These social issues in bars were never clear in Meredith's mind.
        Nathan slid on to the stool beside Meredith.  "Okay, Camille, go back to your flirting. "  He turned to Meredith.  "Can I get you another drink?"
        She shrugged self-consciously.  "Sure.  Uh, is your party over?  Who do you work for?"
        "I just dropped in on the party.  They're good customers.  I work for myself."
        "Camille and I work together.  Though not in the same department..."
        "She's mentioned you."
        Meredith looked surprised.  Camille was attractive and gregarious.  She must have many friends, male and female.  Her presence in the woman's life had to be minuscule.
        Nathan grinned at her.  "You're the equivalent of the Army quartermaster, an impressive position to someone who has no concept of numbers like Camille.  Tell me, is the upcoming holiday a celebration or a curse?"
        The bartender appeared.
        "Send over a bottle of poivret and another glass," Nathan said. "We're going to a table."
        A basketball game played on the giant screen and the bar had suddenly grown crowded.  Meredith's last look around had indicated that the tables were full.  "There aren't any..." she blinked.  Not just a jammed-in table, but a booth empty and waiting?  "How did you know what I like drinking?"  She demanded.
        He smiled.  "You and I like the same superb wine.  I sensed it."
        Meredith was wary, but she did not deny feeling a spark, too.  This guy might be feeding her a line, but at least it was a classy one.  She allowed him to cup her elbow as he guided the way.  He scooted next to her in the
booth and settled his attention on her.
        "Tell me about the holiday," he repeated.
        She looked into his eyes.  Sincere.  No guile visible at any rate.  "Christmas Eve my mother insists that I attend candlelight church services with her. I consider it the part of my gift that guarantees holiday peace.  I have a married brother whose in-laws are wealthy, functional alcoholics.  My mother and I are invited to join them on Christmas Day.  We arrive mid afternoon and while my mother regards the gathering with increasing disapproval the guests proceed to get blitzed.  By the time the rack of lamb or chauteaubriand is served some time after nine p.m., those not comatose are hung over and faintly ill from eating too many appetizers.  Then I have to deal with my mother's anger for days afterwards.  It doesn't occur to her to refuse the invitation or broach the subject with my brother.  This has gone on for five years."
        A waitress delivered the wine and uncorked it.  Nathan dismissed her before she could pour him a sample.  He held the bottle in both hands and bowed his head briefly, then filled their glasses and proposed a toast.
        "To the return of the Sun.  To Renewal."
        Meredith touched his glass and drank.  Warmth funneled from a spot that should have been her stomach, but it was higher around her heart.  But not her heart.  Deeper.  Her long frozen soul?  And joy came with it.  Real joy.  Joy at being alive.  At being with this man.  She stared at him.
        "That's some wine," she uttered.  "How do you celebrate Christmas?"
        "I don't other than in a commercial capacity."
        "Meaning even the spirit doesn't interest you?"
        Nathan set his glass on the table next to Meredith's and patted her hands.  "Oh, yes, the spirit of Yule is very real and of great interest.  I observe the Winter Solstice."
        "The shortest day of the year."
        "And the annual reminder that life renews itself.  The paramount outcome of death is rebirth."
        "It sounds Christian."
        "Pre-Christian.  Christians are not original with their concept of divine birth and a god's resurrection.  Their holidays are merely absorbed Pagan celebrations."  His eyes twinkled.  "It's all one and the same, however.  The Creator, that is.  Yet we certainly do disagree over it.  Endlessly."
        Meredith was fascinated.  Who was Nathan?
        "Your eyes are blue-green," he said, "like tropic seas and your hair is the grain-gold of a goddess."
        "It's bobbed and blow-dried, not long and flowing.  Which goddess?"  He'd say Venus; she was positive.
        "Demeter of ancient Greek belief.  Goddess of the fruitful Earth.  Do you like sunflowers?"
        "Yes!"  She had searched for sunflowers and decorated with them before they'd become "in."  The current fad had gotten her a little crazy - she had accumulated the motif on towels, sheets, dishes, accessories and so forth.
        "Gold jewelry is more flattering, but you're drawn to silver.  You would own a cat if your landlord allowed it." Meredith fingered the sterling rope chain around her neck.  "Are you some sort of psychic?"
        "Some sort of.  I'm a musician when inclined and dabble in environmental issues.  When I find a soul ofinterest, I...probe for details.  Camille has wanted for me to meet you, and she was very right.  You shouldn't have been hesitant."
        "Is this a setup?"  Meredith's tone was piqued, but she was also flattered.  Nathan was quite appealing.
        "Yes," he admitted.
        She laughed and relaxed.
        "You described what you do at the holidays, but how do you feel about it?"
          "Empty," Meredith confessed.  Nathan was easy to talk to and the wine had loosened her.  "I don't believe in anything.  I try living the Golden Rule, but don't find it being practiced by any majority, and working for a Christian affiliated organization, that's a sad commentary.  I married briefly and disastrously when I was young.  We had no children so Santa Claus is not a draw."  She looked at him with speculation.  "Do you have children?"
        "I've never married and have taken care not to procreate where I shouldn't."
        "I can't say I want them or not."
        "I can say that I do."
        "You would be quite persuasive..." she said without thinking and blushed.  "I didn't mean..."
        "Of course you did."
        Their table was near the outside entry and a newcomer spoke loudly.  "The slush is freezing out there.  I almost skidded into a salt truck."
        "Be glad they're out, Man," a patron responded.
        "I should go," Meredith said, relieved to have the subject changed.  "I drive a compact which has little traction.  Besides, two glasses is my limit for functioning sensibly."
        "You don't really want to leave me."  Nathan's voice was seductive. "Close your eyes, Darling.  Let fade the sloppy streets and grubby snow outside this tacky bar.  Envision wizened oaks planted in pungent black loam and laden with mistletoe.  Golden arcs beamed from the Sun permeate the lush leafy bow, dazzling the silvery mistletoe embracing the trees' hoary bark.  It is a sacred place."
        "Sacred," Meredith murmured.  And so...alive.  She could see it. She could smell the lusty air and hear reedy music.
        "And real for those of faith.  The Creator does not require worship in a special house.  People do.  People need these trappings to glorify a Being already celebrated to the fullest in Earth's greatest cathedral, Nature."
        Meredith opened her eyes and regarded him with wonder.  "Do you belong to a special group who worship in this place?  May I join you?  I must join you.  It is...it is where I believe that I belong, too."
        Nathan smiled enigmatically.  "Trust your heart.  Release your feelings and you will find beauty everywhere such as I conjured."
        "Oh."  Meredith was disappointed.  "I'm not very independent.  I would do better in a group effort."
        "Sometimes a group can be important, especially when you are a minority."
        "Because I'm a woman?  I never consider myself a minority."
        Nathan re-filled their wine glasses.  "What you are expressing as belief makes you a minority in the faith market."
        Meredith sipped her wine.  "What faith are we talking about?"
        He studied her.  "Old ways, Pagan ways."
        She mouthed ‘Pagan' and flushed.  He had mentioned the term already.  A mother-planted image of a horned demon surfaced and the connotation warred with the joy in her.
        "The Devil is a concept of Christian belief," Nathan said gently, "and essential to perpetuate the guilt so integral to this religion.  In truth, the evil image is a corruption of a god-form whose pastoral association embodies the importance of humans' connection with the earth.  He is not a shackle to faith."
        Nathan had read her thought!  And had he used the present tense?  Did he worship this god-form in that peaceful circle of oaks?  Meredith decided that the wine was distorting her concentration on the odd conversation, apparently making her more susceptible to his psychic probe.  And she was distracted by the urge to use the bathroom.  She needed a break physically and mentally, but if she pardoned herself, would Nathan be gone when she returned?  He was interested in her which almost amazed her as much as her own response to him - he was fascinating and she didn't meet fascinating men.
        Nathan exited the booth so that Meredith could get out.  He remained close to the table as she stood and shifted so that she would have to brush against him to get by.  When they touched, her breath caught and her nipples stiffened.  She cautiously dated  and never entertained a serious idea of sleeping with anyone.  For the past two years, an involvement, a relationship had seemed too much of an effort.  Inevitably men failed to live up to expectations and had to be discarded.  Yet if Nathan suggested that they find a bed, Meredith would eagerly agree, the consequences be damned.
        He whispered, "Don't tarry.  I'll be here waiting and will see you home."
        Her lipstick suspended, Meredith stared at herself in the ladies' room mirror.  Her pupils were blurry, and she felt giddy.  But if this was smashed, it was unlike any previous episode.  Her desire to have sex with this stranger
went deeper than loosened inhibitions from alcohol.  But Nathan wasn't actually a stranger.  He was Camille's cousin.  So what.  Sex with Nathan was...a necessity!
        She put away her lipstick.  Makeup smears were sleazy on faces or clothes.  Making love could be messy enough without...birth control!  Where had she put the condoms?  It had been so long, she'd thrown them away during a self-pitying impulse.  But he had mentioned that he was careful.  Surely, he was prepared.
        Meredith brushed off the shoulder of her navy jacket, straightened the collar on her white shirt and fluffed her hair.  So be it, she thought.  Tomorrow she'd worry about right or wrong.   Tonight she would savor the moment.

        Camille's presence with Nathan annoyed Meredith.  As she wove through people to reach them, she could see intermittently that their heads were close together and they were laughing.   Where were Camille's two buddies?  More importantly, would this change her plans with Nathan?
        "Was I good on this one or what?"  Camille exclaimed when Meredith was within hearing.  "I knew you two would be like instant hot."
        Meredith's smile was embarrassed.
        "You are uncanny with your matches," Nathan said as he held Meredith's coat ready.  He winked at Meredith as he preempted her buttoning and continued it himself.  "But I would have found her."
        "Not as fast," Camille replied.  "My perceptions are finer.  Admit it.  I have the advantage of living now.  I find faster."
        Crossing her arms on her chest, Meredith thought maybe this was too weird, forgetting that Nathan had demonstrated an ability to read her mind.  Maybe she should advise both of them that perhaps she leave alone.  Her second floor corner apartment in a small, quiet complex had become a refuge.  A man might taint the tranquil atmosphere and her meticulously forged sanctuary would be violated.
        "Go away, Camille," he said softly.  "Go away now."
        She smiled sweetly.  "Meredith, Nathan is super.  I just get carried away with my teasing."
        "I think it has happened too swiftly," Meredith countered.  "I think I'll be on my way ..."  Sounds of the game announcer on the television and zealous bar fans faded.  Reedy music.  Nathan's provocative smile filled her senses...
        "May we take your car?"  Nathan asked.  "I got a ride here."
        Meredith shook her head to clear it and gazed at him.  "You can even have the keys since I'm feeling the wine.  I'll bet you're good at driving on bad roads.  No coat?"
        "No need for one, Darling.  I'm naturally furry."
        A lot of body hair, Meredith mentally translated.  That could be sexy.
        Nathan chuckled and clutched her arm.

        Turning on a lamp inside the apartment door, Meredith spied a sloppy stack of magazines on her coffee table and murmured, "I always pick up on the weekends.  During the week things get hectic and..."
        Nathan touched her shoulder so that she would face him.  "I'm not interested in your housekeeping," he said and kissed her.
        Meredith had read of heroines melting in the hero's arms, but had disdained it as only in a romance novel. 
Yet melting was the only way to describe how Nathan was making her feel with just a lip connection.  Foreplaywould be anticlimactic - regardless of her heavy winter coat, she had a strong urge to peel her pantyhose and
bend over the arm chair a few steps away so that he could join with her before she squandered her orgasm.
        "We are wasting nothing," he whispered and lifted her.
        The l-shaped living room accessed a kitchen on one end and a short hallway on the other which led to her bedroom and the bathroom.  Nathan showed no hesitation on his choice of directions.
        Meredith's sheets were clean, but they were a plain cotton print.  For the fantastic lovemaking she anticipated, nothing less than red satin would fit the occasion.  As if she owned anything like that.  But she should.  She hadn't prepared for this moment.
        She never threw her clothes on the floor, but she wasn't herself tonight.  Her garments ended in a heap and she quickly swept back the comforter and blankets.  Once in bed, she paused to look at Nathan.
        His smile mysterious, he was removing his clothes...rhythmically.  Meredith listened.  The flute.  He was undressing to flute music which was coming from...where was it coming from?
        She stared at his emerging nakedness, thinking that his hirsute body was like an ancient ancestral gene which had surfaced from a primitive evolutionary stage.  Then she riveted on his penis, but Meredith was too hot to play the game to let the size frighten her.  What glinted above his brows?  Two smooth, polished...horns?  The flute...
        Suddenly, with no words between them, he was in the bed and rational thought suspended.  Nathan knew where to find every sensitive spot on her flesh, the usual and the unexpected, and turning her compliant body, he caressed it with his tongue.  When he flicked her right instep, a new erogenous discovery for Meredith, she moaned.  Her desire for release had grown so acute that it was almost painful.
        "Now is your part, vision of the Goddess.  Rise upon me," he commanded.
        Her eyes unopened, Meredith drunkenly got on her knees, felt her way to his groin and sank down on him.
        "Yes," she sighed in beat with the loud flute melody, "yes, yes, yes..."
        Nathan smiled.  Yes.  Another convert.  Another liberated soul.  Won back to Her, the Lady.

        Sunlight seeped through the partially opened vertical blinds, striating the bed.  On her side, Meredith opened her eyes cautiously to view the next pillow.  Empty.  She listened for sounds in the apartment, but already sensed that the incredible man was gone.  Maybe ‘man' was the wrong description.  ‘Love god' was apropos or ‘Olympian lover'.  Feeling silly, she laughed, then grew thoughtful.  He had said something important which she needed to remember, but it flitted in peripheral memory.  Get up, drink coffee, think.  She moved and gasped.  How sore she was!  She laughed again.  It was a NICE sore.  With slower movements, Meredith left her bed and gaining her feet, she remembered Nathan's comment.
        Camille!  She had to call Camille.

        A very sturdy eight foot slump block fence meant to conceal activity from the casual observer, Meredith decided upon viewing the backyard from the large patio where a flagstone fireplace fueled with a huge log warmed the area.  The smell of roast turkey had filled the house, but they would be dining outside.  Glossy ivy and holly laden with scarlet berries decorated a linen-draped table set with gold-rimmed crystal and goldware.
        "Cider," Camille explained as she gave Meredith a mug.  "We'll eat later.  Let me introduce you to the others."
        Sarah, Jeremy, Dan, Kyle - Meredith registered names to faces, but more important was the bonding taking place among their souls.  She was connected to these five people dressed in various shades of red, and they welcomed her wholeheartedly.
        
        Silver flashed in the darkness.  A polished needle a giant would require?  Meredith envisioned a white thread being drawn round inside the oaks.  The atmosphere crackled as if struck with lightning.  Jeremy completed the circle and sheathed what appeared to be a knife.
        Her new friends faced one direction and held forth their arms as if hailing the sky.  Meredith imitated them and a rush like a mild electrical shock charged her.
        "In the East, the Air is Her Power,"  Camille said.  A gust of wind struck them, bearing the scent of cinnamon, but Meredith did not feel the expected chill as the others repeated Camille's words twice, tracing pentacles with their pointed fingers and turning to the right.
        "In the South, the Fire is Her Power," Kyle said which the group said in duplicate as they drew pentacles.  Meredith felt warm enough to want to shed her coat.
        "In the West, the Water is Her Power."  The sound of waves.  Like holding a seashell to her ear, Meredith thought, but louder as if at a real beach.
        "In the North, The Earth is Her Power."  The scent of freshly tilled soil.  Meredith glanced at the ground, only mildly surprised to see verdant grass in place of  trampled snow.
        For a moment, silence, then flute music, rich and pleasing, lilted among them.  Meredith wondered if Nathan would join them now.
        "You honor us, My Lady," Camille said, "and we thank You for sending us Your Emissary."
        Meredith blinked.  It was Nathan.  But not in the guise he chose for mortals.  Here among those who worshiped the Goddess, he had no need to hide the superb horns polished amber or the cress-green leaves that rooted in his wild umber hair.
        "Welcome to Her Way," Nathan said to Meredith.  "This small group practices quite simple rituals, but raising power, gaining Her Favor does not require elaborate means.  When offered in perfect love, when performed in perfect trust - She knows you."
        Meredith heard him, but could only stare.  Not Nathan, she realized.  ‘Nathan' was part of the mask.  He was The Horned One.  The Lord of the Hunt.  The Green Man.  Pan who frolicked with nymphs in wood and field.  Like he had with her, leaving his imprint on her spirit.  But belonging first to the Creator.  Her Emissary.
        Sarah approached Nathan, carrying a single white candle.  "The Wheel has turned and the Sun is to be born again, bringing with it the rebirth of life."
        Kyle stepped forth holding a red candle which Sarah promptly lit.   They held high the candles joined in flame and said in unison, "Our Lady bears the Lord.  Together they begin the eternal journey once more, redeeming us
from the darkness and giving us life."
        "Blessed be," the group offered reverently.  The music picked up in tempo and sound.  Sarah clasp Kyle who clasped Camille who clasped Jeremy.  Meredith clasped him and with her other hand clasped Dan.  Sarah led them in a spiral around the grassy circle.
        "Wisdom is freedom," Kyle whispered as he coiled about Meredith in the dance.
        She already knew it, but smiled to acknowledge him.

        A wealthy homeowners' association could afford to hire someone who did a thorough job plowing, Meredith thought.  She hadn't seen a smidgen of ice yet on the blacktop.  Too bad she didn't have the courage to simply return to her car parked on the spacious drive and go home.  Camille had loaned her books about the Goddess the next day following Yule and as much time as she had spent reading, she couldn't get enough.  Yule was one of eight Sabbats, festival days of the solar year. Esbats fell in between and centered on the full moon.  She longed to be snuggled on her couch, sipping tea and learning about her faith instead of being with people for whom spirit meant the proof content of the vodka.
        Headlights played across her from a car traveling the curve ahead.  Meredith automatically stepped on to the gravel grade next to the street.  The car slowed and a window rolled down.
        "I'm looking for the Horstmeyers," a man said.  "I can't seem to find any numbers on the houses."
        "Because there aren't any," Meredith replied.  "It's the neighborhood."
        A shadowy face appeared in the window.  "Exclusive, huh?  I'm okay with that.  Dealing with the reality of exclusion is my way of life."
        Headlights from an oncoming car behind Meredith illumined the window and she looked closer.  Curly ash brown hair, dark blue eyes and a white smile. Nathan!  But no beard, a trim haircut.  A glint of amber above the brow... no, merely the gleam of reflected light.  Not Nathan, yet like Nathan.  Like Nathan?
        "I'm Travis Artemer, a cousin of theirs from Spokane."
        She smiled broadly.  "I'm a guest at the Horstmeyers' and I'd be happy to guide you to the house."
        The door opened and Meredith settled on the seat while he got back behind the wheel.
         "Five days ago I received a sign during a ceremony," he said.  "It told me to visit, which I've never done before, and make sure I arrived today.  Arranging travel was tough, but it was important to honor the message."
        Message?  A sign?  Meredith moved next to him.  "Was it more like an epiphany?"  She asked. "I believe what I experienced five days ago was an epiphany."
        "I'd say for both of us.  Blessed be."
        "Do oak trees grow in Spokane?"
        "I have a grove on my property."
        "The Horstmeyers' house is next driveway on the left."  Meredith pointed.
        "Shall I just keep going?"
        "Yes."  She rested her head on his shoulder.