Caroline's suspicions had been right. George Callahan, the man with the bloody bandage in all of her dreams, had been the one who raped and impregnated Rachel, and eventually the one who drugged and killed her. Caroline wished she knew more about this horrible man. Whatever became of him? Everyone thought her death a suicide because nobody ever found the journal that held the truth. That's why Rachel was so intent on haunting Caroline's dreams to help her find it.
Why would it matter now? Why, after all these years, does she care that anyone knows the truth, and why choose Caroline?
She hated to think anyone with the same last name as Trevor could be a cold-blooded killer. The Callahan name had become special to her. Now that she'd read Rachel's journal and learned the truth about George Callahan, she had difficulty saying the name out loud without thinking about what happened to Rachel.
What had he meant about being double-crossed? Rachel hadn't known anything about it either. But Jackson knew. In the dream, after she told him about George and what he had said, Jackson's tone immediately became apologetic for not protecting her.
Eddie said George left Louisiana because his insane jealousy couldn't allow him to see Jackson, Rachel and Joseph together as a happy family. What if there was more? If he'd known Rachel carried his child, would he have stayed? And not killed her? What if Eddie was wrong about why George left everything and everyone he knew and loved? What if George really was double-crossed by Jackson? George didn't leave town because of his jealousy. He left because he didn't want anyone to discover he'd killed Rachel Fontenot. Caroline resolved to research his death. For all she knew, he could be haunting her, too.
That would have to wait. Caroline needed to prepare for her outing to New Orleans.
She and Cade were planning to spend the night in a hotel on Canal Street. To avoid any more unpleasant face-offs with Trevor, Cade was a gentleman and reserved two separate, but adjoining rooms. She didn't plan to tell Trevor about her weekend in the city, but at least this way, if he found out, he couldn't accuse her of anything. Caroline was sure April would do her very best to fill him in on the details.
As she packed the last of her toiletries in her overnight bag, Cade knocked on the door. He held a beautiful bouquet of purple daisies. "Oh, Cade! I love daisies! They're my favorite color, too! Thank you so much, they're breathtaking."
"You're welcome, sweet girl. They pale in comparison to you, but I suppose they'll do." The blood rushed to her face. It was amazing how she could still blush around him even after all they'd been through.
"How are you feeling? Good enough to go on some tours?"
"Oh, yeah. I've been looking forward to this trip all week. I can't wait."
In two hours, they'd arrived, checked in to the hotel, and caught a trolley car for sight-seeing. The majestic homes in the Garden District and the beauty and history of this city fascinated her. All the while, Cade watched her more than the sights. After the streetcar ride, they strolled along the Riverfront to the ferry and the paddleboat.
They meandered through the French Market, and Cade pointed out the Port where Naval ships dock. It had been a while since he'd seen his sister who was stationed on a ship. From the look on his face as he stared at the large Naval ship, he really missed her. Caroline admired Cade's love for his family.
"I almost forgot something," she said. "I promised Claire I would ask you if you have any cousins we could set her up with?"
Cade smiled. "Hmmm. Shouldn't be a problem. My family's huge and I have a ton of cousins. She's beautiful, so I'm sure just about any of them would be interested."
"Well, she wants him to be like you. So, whichever cousin it is, he must be tall, dark, handsome, respectful, thoughtful, sweet, and protective."
He laughed. "She doesn't ask for much, does she?"
"Let me tell you something, Caden Luke, guys like you are hard to come by. If you can find someone like you for Claire, I'd bet money she will end up marrying him."
The hurt flashed in his eyes that she was not choosing to marry him. "I'll see what I can do. She's about to turn seventeen, right? My cousin, Josh, is a lot like me and he's only twenty years old. I think Claire would really like him."
Cade led her to a line of mule-drawn carriages, approaching a beautiful white carriage with a red velvet seat. He held out his hand. "Shall we?"
They stepped up into the carriage as the driver snapped his reins to get the mule moving. She'd never been on a romantic carriage ride and Cade was just the man to show her the beauty of the city. She snuggled in to his arm wrapped around her shoulder and awed at the colorful myriad of street vendors and tourists. Twilight slipped in on a gentle breeze, twinkling lights wrapped in trees and draped on historic buildings blinked on, and distant jazz music mingled with the clopping of the horse's hooves.
Cade twirled his finger in a lock of her hair. She'd never been with anyone who focused on the little things she loved so much. "Thank you," she whispered.
"No, cher. Thank you for allowing me to share this experience with you. I've been happier in the last two months than I've been in the last five years, and it's all because of you. Thank you for saving me from myself." He gently kissed her forehead. She didn't want the romantic moment to ever end. She rested her head on his shoulder and enjoyed the rest of the ride with Cade. . .alone. Too bad they hadn't booked one hotel room. But it was probably a really good thing they hadn't.
The driver dropped them in the heart of the French Quarter near Bourbon Street. Cade, very protective as they navigated through the crowd, was a walking shield of solid muscle as he encased her in his sheltering arms. He blocked, shoved, and averted obstacles with precision, his reflexes unprecedented. Finally, they entered a hoppin' Cajun restaurant. The stage inside rocked Zydeco music, complete with spoons, washboards, and an accordion player. They enjoyed the food and entertainment until Caroline's fatigue finally showed through her façade and they returned to their historic hotel.
Cade joined her in her room as she plopped down in one of the cushy accent chairs. He put on soft jazz music and poured water in two wine glasses.
"Cade, you don't have to drink water just because I have to with my pain meds."
"I don't mind," he said, sitting in the chair beside her. "Spending time like this with you is intoxicating enough."
Unable to resist him any longer, she rose, straddled his legs, and sat in his lap. His eyes grew big and followed her every move. She set her glass on the desk behind him and cradled his face in her hands. Leaning forward, she pressed her lips to his forehead, trailing down to his cheek. His hair was soft under her fingers and she breathed in his musky scent. He shivered under her kiss on his earlobes and she smiled, gently tasting his neck and back up to his cheek where she finally rested her eager mouth on his soft moist lips.
He drew in ragged breaths and his heady response in his return kiss revealed his struggle to hold back. They kissed like lovers, desperate and urgent. His hands grasped her hips and he ran them up her back. Her skin tingled alive under his palms skimming across her breasts until finally clasping her face. He sat up straighter, deepening his kiss as one hand dropped down to her lower back pulling her closer to him. She rocked her hips a little and he released a deep throaty moan. He abruptly pulled away, dropping his head and rested his forehead on her chest.
"Caroline, I. . .can't. I don't want to force you to—"
"You're not forcing me to do anything. I came to you, remember? I'm tired of pretending." She breathed a frustrated sigh. "I thought you would be. . .happy about this."
He raised his eyebrows. "Girl, if you had any idea how much I've been waiting for a moment like this—it's just. . .what I want from you goes deeper than just the physical need. I want you. Believe me, I do. But I want all of you. Unfortunately, you're still engaged. I can't allow you to do something that will ruin what you have with Trevor. You obviously love him or you wouldn't still be with him, especially after—well, you just wouldn't still be with him if you didn't want to be."
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He brushed the hair from her face and stared deeply into her eyes. "Please, don't be angry with me. I want you. . .every little delicious morsel of you. I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone in my entire life. Please believe me. I want to learn everything about you, every freckle, birthmark, all your ticklish spots. . ." he raised an eyebrow, "your hot spots." She smiled, exhilaration coursing through her with the thought.
"Plus, I want to explore that amazing mind of yours. I want to search your beautiful green eyes until I can see your soul. I love everything about you, Caroline, but I cannot allow myself to do anything else with you until you are with me." Caroline stiffened, embarrassed, and started to climb off of him. He quickly recovered and gripped her hips to stop her.
"Wait, don't get up yet. I'm so sorry, sweet girl. I'm not trying to hurt you, I swear. But I don't want to be the other guy, you know? As long as you're promised to someone else, out of respect for you, myself, and even him, I cannot be the one thing you regret doing in your life."
Her eyes closed. "How embarrassing." She snickered, "So this is what it feels like. I'm usually the one who always has to stop in the heat of the moment and be responsible. Now I understand how disappointing and frustrating it is."
"Oh, believe me, cher, I am definitely hot in the moment. I just can't do this to you right now. I'm sure you are confused enough with everything that's going on with your dad and April, Trevor coming down to surprise you, then falling and cracking your skull. The last thing you need is me complicating things even more."
"I'm not angry with you. If anything, it makes me adore you that much more. If it had been Trevor in your shoes tonight, we'd be making love right now. He would have completely taken advantage of the opportunity without holding back or thinking of anyone but himself."
She slipped off his lap and sat on the side of the bed. "Thank you for respecting me, and yourself, enough to say no. And for keeping me from hating myself in the morning. Thank you for taking care of me and for valuing everything I stand for by being responsible in my moment of weakness." She shook her head in wonderment. "You are, without a doubt, my guardian angel."
"No, love, you're mine."