We restore the cabin to its original splendor and fix up the lake. You sit up 
   there overlooking these mountains and watch fish jumping in the lake as you work 
   on your 'puter. Ain't that a pretty picture?"
   "All you need down here," Toni said, "is a bush hog to clear out around the lake 
   bank and a couple of chain saws and two good men to thin out the woods. I 
   checked the dam this morning. It's in good shape. Of course, you'll want to 
   rebuild the boathouse and get two or three rowboats. I'll bet it wouldn't cost 
   more than ? uh ? what do you think, Handsome?"
   "Ten grand, more or less."
   Lance wanted to tell Toni he would do anything she asked if she would be part of 
   the package. Instead, he said, "Is there any way to clear up the muddy water?"
   "Yeah," Buddy replied, "but I wouldn't recommend it. It's the huge carp swimming 
   on the bottom that keeps the water stirred up, not the catfish. You'd have to 
   drain the lake to kill 'em all, and you'd kill the cats, crappie and bass in the 
   process. Then you'd have to refill and restock the lake."
   "There might be another way," Toni suggested. "Have a fishing contest. Pay five 
   bucks for each carp over ten pounds and give a big prize, maybe a thousand, for 
   the largest carp caught."
   Buddy rubbed the stubble on his chin. "Might work. I don't reckon you'd get rid 
   of all the carp that way, but enough might be caught to clear up the water a 
   mite."
   Lance wagged his head and grinned. "You two sure don't mind spending my money. 
   Do you think the cabin can be restored?"
   Buddy looked at Toni. "I think you just hooked the biggest fish of the day." 
   Turning back to Lance, he continued, "Why don't we go take a look?"
   Buddy headed back up the trail, but Lance purposefully waited for Toni to put on 
   her socks and shoes. He was disappointed when she rolled down the legs of her 
   jeans, but good-naturedly picked up the stringer of fish and followed her up the 
   steep incline. By the time they reached the clearing, Lance was in love with 
   Toni ? at least the back of her head, the back of her neck, her back and tiny 
   waist, her buttocks, the backs of her thighs and calves and the heels of her 
   feet.
   Buddy grabbed a flashlight from his truck and met them beside the cabin. 
   "Foundation's made of mountain rock. It looks solid, but I want to check it 
   carefully."
   "Why the flashlight?" Lance puffed as he paused to rest.
   "Let me put those fish in my trunk," Toni said as she took the stringer from 
   Lance. "That's tonight's supper."
   Buddy tested the flashlight to make sure the batteries were good. "I want to go 
   in the crawlspace and see if the joists are solid."
   Lance nodded and watched Buddy disappear behind the cabin. He summoned his 
   strength and made it to the front porch as Toni joined him. "Miss Toni," he said 
   as he began to unbutton his shirt and pull it from his slacks, "you're going to 
   have to forgive me. I'm burning up."
   She watched as he removed the shirt, revealing rippling chest muscles produced 
   by years of daily weight training. She giggled. "I feel like a horny teenage boy 
   at a girly show," she said as she placed the palm of her hand on his moist skin. 
   "Lance, you have a magnificent chest!"
   The touch of her hand sent a tingling sensation coursing through his entire 
   body. He blushed as a voice sounded from the far end of the porch. "Take your 
   shirt off too, Toni, and let's see who has the best chest. I'll be the judge."
   "In your dreams, Buddy Mabe."
   "Look, guys," Buddy shouted, "the foundation is in great shape except for one 
   little area in the back. Now I'm going to introduce myself to the snakes, 
   spiders and other creepy things under the house. If I'm not back in an hour, 
   send out a search party."
   "You ever been inside?" Lance asked.
   She shook her head. "I've lived on the farm all my life, but I've only peeked 
   through the windows."
   "You were a tenant for my dad?"
   "Mom and dad were and Buddy's parents were also. I helped, of course. I've 
   primed many an acre of tobacco," she laughed.
   "Well, your time has come." Lance pulled a key ring from his pocket, selected 
   one, and inserted it in the lock. He could not turn it.
   Toni tried and failed. "Rusted shut," she observed.
   He pressed his hands against the door. "Seems rotten," he said. He backed up a 
   step and slammed his foot against the door. It splintered into dozens of pieces. 
   "Where there's a will, there's a way."
   They stepped through the opening and paused, giving their eyes a chance to 
   adjust to the dim lighting conditions.
   They were in the main ballroom. She grasped his hand unconsciously and gasped, 
   "Lance, look at that."
   He followed the focus of her eyes and admired the fireplace, centered on the 
   left side of the room.
   "Mountain rock," she explained. "Can't you just see a roaring fire on a winter's 
   evening?"
   He nodded and pointed towards the raised flooring in front of the wall opposite 
   the door. "That must be the bandstand." He looked at her longingly and held out 
   his hands. "While the fire burned and the musicians played, the gentlemen, 
   attired in their finery, waltzed with their ladies dressed in billowing skirts 
   and plunging necklines."
   She placed her hands in his and they danced around the room as he hummedThe Blue 
   Danube Waltz . She watched his pecs quiver as he enjoyed the rhythmical swaying 
   of her breasts. He led her into a deep dip and, as she smiled up at him, she 
   squealed, "Look!"
   He pulled her erect and they stared at the magnificent, dusty chandelier hanging 
   from the ceiling, its teardrops of cut glass still able to catch glimpses of 
   sunlight and reflect them around the room.
   She wrapped her arms around his neck. He pulled her close. Their lips touched. 
   She pulled away.
   "I ? I'm sorry, Lance. I got carried away."
   "It was a wonderful moment," he said. "Thank you for sharing it with me."
   Lance knew that if he lived to be a hundred, he would never forget the taste and 
   feel of her lips on his. "Hey, let's see what the rest of the cabin has to 
   offer."
   They pushed through the door opposite the fireplace and looked in awe at the 
   oblong room that formed a right angle with the ballroom. A smaller fireplace 
   graced the front exterior wall.
   "The dining room," she whispered reverently.
   He whistled. "Man, they could seat fifty, maybe a hundred people in here. I 
   wonder what happened to all the furniture?"
   "Your dad sold it," she said.
   "Why?"
   "Antiques. I imagine he hated to see everything deteriorate and decided to make 
   a little on the furnishings."
   "It'll cost a fortune to furnish the place," he said.
   "Does that mean what I hope it means?"
   "I'm tempted." He looked at the long interior wall. "One of those doors probably 
   leads to the kitchen, but what's the other door for?"
   She beat him to the first door and pulled it open. "It's a hallway, Lance, 
   running the length of the house."
   He peered over her head, lightly resting his hands on her should 
					     					 			ers. "Dark in 
   there. We could use Buddy's flashlight. Let's try the other door."
   They entered the next room. "Why in the world did they need such a huge 
   kitchen?" he asked.
   "To prepare food for a hundred people, silly," she responded. "I wish they 
   hadn't ripped out the appliances like that. I don't believe that was your 
   daddy's doing."
   "Toni, I know there is a second story, but I haven't seen any stairs."
   "Must be around here somewhere. That door probably also opens to the hallway. 
   Let's see what else we can find."
   They groped their way down the hall with Lance in the lead and Toni trailing, 
   holding on to his hips.
   "Hold it," Lance said. "I think I found a door." He searched for a doorknob. 
   "Ugh. Place stinks."
   "It's the bathroom," she said.
   "Looks like it was added as an afterthought."
   She laughed. "When the cabin was originally built, they drew water from a well 
   and used an outhouse."
   "I suppose so, but why does it stink so bad?"
   "My guess is the septic tank failed."
   Lance pretended he knew what a septic tank was and inched further down the 
   hallway. "Oh, boy. You have to see this," he called to Toni.
   "Lance, it's ? it's ? "
   "Majestic," he offered.
   "Look at the detail work on the banisters."
   The steps rose to a landing, turned and proceeded to the second floor. A 
   persimmon tree stretched two of its branches through the wide window on the 
   landing.
   Lance started to mount the steps, but Toni restrained him. "Let's see the rest 
   of the first floor," she suggested.
   He followed her through the next door and gasped. A rock fireplace ? not as 
   large as the one in the ballroom, but just as beautiful ? adorned the end wall. 
   The exterior wall contained an ornate door and a wide bay window.
   "This is it!" Toni exclaimed as she rushed to the window. "Just as Buddy said. 
   If you put your computer here, you can look out over the lake below. Lance, it's 
   gorgeous."
   He moved to the window as she rushed to the exterior door. "Lance," she shouted 
   from outside, "look at this."
   He joined her on the deck that ran the full length of the house. "If we cut a 
   door from the kitchen, this will be a perfect place to enjoy a meal on a summer 
   evening," he mused.
   She grabbed his hand and pulled him back inside and to the staircase.
   "Found any ghosts?" Buddy bellowed as he entered the hallway from the kitchen.
   "Not yet," Lance answered, watching Buddy approach. "What have you found?"
   "Let me finish looking around and then I'll give you a full report."
   Lance nodded and followed Toni up the steps. The second floor was a 
   disappointment. There were six uniform bedrooms, a large walk-in storage closet 
   and a single bathroom that looked as if it, too, was originally a large closet.
   They passed Buddy as they descended the stairs. "Why would they plaster the 
   walls on the second floor?" Lance asked.
   Buddy shrugged his shoulders.
   "It looks terrible," Toni added. "They're all cracked and broken. There's more 
   plaster on the floor than on the walls."
   "I'm so thirsty I could drink the muddy water in the lake," Lance joked as they 
   emerged on the front porch.
   "No need for that," Toni laughed. "I have a Mason jar of ice water in my car."
   Lance politely waited for Toni to drink her fill before putting the jar to his 
   own lips. As he gulped down the refreshing liquid, he saw Buddy approaching. He 
   was not smiling.
   Buddy wiped his lips with the back of his hand after emptying the jar. "She's in 
   worse shape than I thought," he said as he led the way to the shade of a huge 
   black walnut tree. "The foundation needs shoring up in the back, the whole front 
   porch needs replacing, the logs are okay but the chinking must be replaced. All 
   the windows need replacing, not just the broken panes. The wiring and plumbing 
   is ancient. It ain't safe, so that'll have to be replaced." He shielded his eyes 
   from the sun and looked at the top of the cabin. "The tin roof is about to rust 
   through. I reckon you'll want to replace that with shingles. The attic has no 
   insulation and, of course, there ain't no central heat or air-conditioning."
   "Lance," Toni said. "Don't put on shingles. There's nothing like the sound of 
   falling rain on a tin roof."
   "The cost of a new metal roof is about the same," Buddy said, "and there's more. 
   The septic tank has caved in and I don't trust the water in the well. You know 
   how rutted the road is. It needs scraping and a load of gravel on it. I figure 
   its gonna cost you two hundred grand, give or take, to fix her up including the 
   road and lake."
   Lance leveled his eyes at Buddy. "You didn't make a single note. How can you up 
   come up with a figure? And besides, how do you know what it will cost to 
   renovate the place?"
   "I made notes, Vance ? lots of them on my 'puter." He tapped his forehead with 
   his index finger.
   "Buddy used to be a contractor, before ? "
   "Before I became the town drunk," Buddy interrupted as he studied his feet.
   "You still have a license?"
   Buddy nodded.
   "Can you stay sober long enough to get the job done?"
   "I can get the job done, but I don't promise nothing about staying sober."
   "How do you suggest we proceed?"
   "You mean it?" Toni asked.
   Lance nodded. She threw her arms around him. "I want to help restore the cabin. 
   It'll be fun."
   Lance closed his arms around Toni's slender waist. She's trembling with 
   excitement, he thought. God, she feels so good in my arms.
   "First," Buddy said, "you write me a check for fifty thousand."
   "What?"
   "Let me finish. I ain't got no money and suppliers ain't gonna to give credit to 
   a drunk. I need the money to get started. A fellow I know has a RV. I bet it 
   doesn't have a thousand miles on it. His wife doesn't like tooling around in 
   that huge thing. I'll rent it for you to live in 'til we finish the cabin. You 
   go on back to Charlotte and take care of business. Give me a week. I'll have a 
   well dug, a new septic tank installed, power run from the road and the RV set up 
   over yonder," he said, pointing to the far side of the cabin.
   "What do you think, Toni?"
   "I've known Handsome all my life. I've never known him to tell a lie or steal a 
   penny. If he says he can do it, he can and will."
   Lance walked to his car and pulled his briefcase from the back seat. As he wrote 
   the check he said, "I'll be back one week from today. There's just one 
   condition."
   "What's that?" Buddy asked.
   "You put Toni on the payroll and don't do anything without her prior approval."
   Buddy roared with laughter. "Ugly," he asked, "What did you do to this guy while 
   I was playing with spiders?"
   Chapter Two
    
   An ominous cloud was building in the west when Lance eased his Taurus up to the 
   gas pumps in front of Flint's Grocery. He watched lightning dance in the 
   distance as he filled his fuel tank. A good, hard, blowing rain might rinse some 
   of the filth from Tracy 
					     					 			's windows, he thought. The light wind was a refreshing 
   relief from the early afternoon heat. He checked the hookup between his car and 
   the U-Haul trailer attached. For no particular reason, he didn't trust the 
   temporary device.
   "Good afternoon, Tracy," he greeted as he entered the store and nodded towards 
   the two men sitting beside the potbellied stove. "I was almost empty this time," 
   he joked.
   Tracy acknowledged his presence simply by looking up from the crossword puzzle 
   she was working.
   Man, I wish she'd do something with her hair, he thought as he filled a shopping 
   cart with staples, a case of diet Pepsi-Colas and a case of Budweiser. She sure 
   does fill out that red tee shirt nicely, though.
   "Word is you found the farm and plan to live there," she said as she began to 
   ring up his purchases.
   Lance grinned and replied, "It was love at first sight."
   "I already warned you once. You won't make a living off the place. Nobody makes 
   a living off of farming anymore."
   "Maybe ? maybe not. It doesn't really matter."
   "Rich, are you?"
   He laughed. "Not hardly, but I do have a computer programming business that pays 
   the bills nicely."
   "They say you hired Buddy Mabe and his hoodlum friends to fix the place up. 
   They'll do a half-ass job and rob you blind."
   "Ain't necessarily so," one of the stove sitters chimed in. "Buddy was a right 
   fair hand back before ? you know."
   "Grandpa," she spat back, "you're entitled to your opinion, but a fool and his 
   money are soon parted."
   Lance cocked his head to one side. "Are you calling me a fool?"
   "If the shoe don't fit, don't wear it."
   "That ain't the way the sayin' goes," Grandpa chuckled.
   "You mind your own beeswax, Grandpa," Tracy shot back affectionately. She 
   leveled her hazel eyes at Lance. "I've forgotten your name, fella, but take my 
   advice. You don't fit in around here. Get out before you lose your shirt."
   "My name is Lance Sayer," he said as he handed her his credit card, "but there 
   is no cause for you to remember it. I don't go where I'm not wanted, so I won't 
   be back."
   Both of the stove sitters laughed. "Then I reckon you'll be drivin' to Walnut 
   Cove or Winston fer your groceries. Tracy has the only grocery in these here 
   parts," Grandpa advised.
   Lance signed the receipt, but held it for a moment. He lowered his voice. "I 
   have some advice for you, Tracy Flint. Wash your greasy auburn hair, have it cut 
   and comb it once in a while."
   "Hey, Grandpa," she shouted as she yanked the receipt from Lance's hand, "he 
   wants me to fix myself up. You think he wants to come a-courtin'?"
   "He ain't good enough fer you, Tracy. If you're gonna court anybody, it ought to 
   be me and I like you jest fine the way you are."
   Lance dumped the beverage cases and the two grocery bags into the cart and 
   hurried to his car. He pushed and shoved his purchases into the passenger seat, 
   knowing there was no room in the back seat, trunk and the large U-Haul trailer.
   He started to push the cart back to the store, but changed his mind and left it 
   beside the pumps for Miss Flint to retrieve. A sudden gust of cool wind caused 
   him to glance skyward and the boiling black clouds and a crash of thunder warned 
   that the storm was fast approaching.
   He drove carefully to Danbury, remembering the treacherous S curve, and eased 
   his car and the trailer he was towing into the post office parking lot as the 
   first large drops of rain began splattering against the windshield. The red 
   suspendered owner of the hardware store was leaving as Lance entered the post 
   office.
   "Afternoon," Lance greeted.
   The man grunted, all but ignoring Lance.
   "I need to rent a post office box," he said to the uniformed clerk.
   "Twelve dollars," the middle-aged man responded, pushing forward a form and 
   ballpoint pen.
   Lance quickly filled out the simple form and placed his credit card on the 
   counter. The clerk waited until Lance signed the receipt and then slid a key in 
   his direction. "Box 494," he said.
   "Thanks. I could use some change of address cards too."
   "How many," the clerk asked with a hint of irritation in his voice.
   "Twenty should do it."
   While the clerk meticulously counted out the blue cards, Lance pulled from his 
   pocket a previously filled in change of address form to notify the Charlotte