Family Sins - 2nd book excerpt

CHAPTER ONE

Winter 1951, Terrebonne Parish

Cassie moved between crowded tables avoiding as many groping hands as possible. Wiping her face with her sleeve, she blew a hot breath at the tendril of hair bobbing across her eyes. Whistles accompanied her as she rounded a table filled with beer guzzling men just off work from a nearby boat works plant. The scent of their sweat mingled with the stench of smoke caused her eyes to water. She hated having to work here, but what else could she do? She needed to help her family.

Big Jake, the tavern owner yelled out, “Cassie, dépêche toi! Hurry up girl. Get those tables cleaned. The men are thirsty.” Shaking his head he turned back to the bar to fill the next glass with beer.

Cassie ignored the catcalls as well as Jake. She tuned it all out thinking ahead to when she could leave. She wanted to finish reading the novel she’d begun last night. She loved to read even though her Mère thought her foolish. She loaded her tray with clean glasses before pushing her way through the swinging doors back into the den of noise.

Cassie felt a hand touch her arm. Automatically she tried to shake it off, but the fingers around her tightened more. She looked down at the hand clinched around her arm. Then she raised her gaze to the face of the man who held her captive. She almost dropped her tray.

“Need any help, honey?” His modulated tone caused a shiver down her spine. The rugged features of his face brought to mind what she’d read in her books about a dark and dangerous stranger.

She guessed his height to be above six feet. His gray eyes bored into her green ones as if he could see into her soul. He sported a smile that could cause any woman to swoon, and she was not immune to its charm. She felt her heart rate quicken.

“Non, merci! No thank you.” She tried again to shake his hand from her arm, but his long, tan fingers held her in a firm clasp. “S’il vous plaît. Please, I must go.”

“Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”

She ignored his question and tried to step back. With a measure of reluctance, he let go of her arm. She noted the way he used his fingers to caress her bare flesh. She felt her face burn. “Merci.” Cassie hurried away before he could speak to her again. For some reason his compliment and the way his fingertips brushed across her bare flesh, made her insides all funny and tingling. Even in her most private of places!

Thankfully she escaped, but she could feel his eyes following her every move. She hoped he’d give up and move on to the back room where the private games took place. Because of her age Jake only allowed her to wait tables in the front and for that she could be grateful.

By the time Cassie turned fifteen her father had run off with another woman and left them all destitute. Her mother took in sewing and laundry to provide for them. But it wasn’t near enough. Not with six children to feed and clothe. Cassie quit her schooling to work at the tavern, but she continued to read and learn as much as she could on her own. She never wanted to be in a situation like her mother.

She grabbed her threadbare coat to slip it on before going out into the wee morning chill. Waving goodbye to Jake, Cassie struck off down the lane to meet up with her cousin, Arnaud. Usually it didn’t bother her to walk alone, but tonight she felt as if other eyes were following her. She called herself silly, and tried to brush off the feeling. With her arms wrapped about her waist, she hunched inside her thin coat. The night’s chill seeped through the thin barrier to her flesh. She shivered.

When Cassie arrived at their rendezvous spot her cousin was not waiting for her. She didn’t feel like hanging around so she struck off on her own. Absorbed in her own thoughts, she jumped when a voice from out of nowhere spoke.

“Mind if I join you?”

Without turning around, she recognized that voice. Cassie picked up her pace. Of all the times for her cousin to be late, why did it have to be tonight?

He caught up to her and grabbed her arm. “I yi yiee! Ouch! Let go of me!” She tried to twist free. An eerie quietness enveloped them. “Quoi tu verux? What do you want?”

“Honey, I want what all men want. You’ve been batting those green eyes at me all night.” The man grabbed her by the shoulders to pull her hard against his frame. His breath mingled with hers as he said, “How much for a couple of hours of your sweetness?”

Cassie sucked in her breath. Pooyah-ee! Good grief! He thought she was for hire. “T’es trompé. You are mistaken.” Her eyes darkened with anger.

A deep growl rumbled up from his chest when her knee made contact. “Damnation, you blasted chit!”

He tightened his hold on her and Cassie felt fear well up inside her chest. Tears formed in her eyes. “S’il vous plait. Please, don’t hurt me,” she pleaded in a child-like whimper.

“I’ve no intention of hurting you.” He didn’t release her, but pulled her closer. “On the contrary, I predict a very pleasant experience for us.” He began to drag her fighting form back toward the tavern. “It’s just a short distance to the hotel. I’m staying at the Du Boise Royale. I’m sure you’re familiar with the place.”

Cassie tried to think rationally. She needed a plan. “Non, I’m not that kind of girl.” She tried to remove his hand from her arm, but he clamped down even tighter, his fingers biting into her flesh.

“Don’t worry about the cost, I’ve plenty of money.” His bloodshot eyes traveled insolently over her person.

Cassie ran through every bad word she could think of in her native dialect before taking a deep breath to try once again to reason with him. “You don’t understand. I’m not one of the working girls.” Her voice trailed off as his eyes met hers.

“Really?” He didn’t sound as if he believed her.

A ball formed in her belly. She looked up and down the deserted road. No help in sight. Oh where is her cousin?

Cassie felt his fingers move against her side and sucked in her breath. She could smell the stench of smoke on his shirt as he pressed her face against his shoulder. He practically picked her up and carried her kicking to his automobile. The likes of which she’d never seen, so foreign and strange to her, that for a moment she quit wrestling.

He took that brief respite to toss her inside. She landed with a soft thump upon the seat. Stunned, she forgot her plan to flee. She’d never been close to, or inside an automobile before and one this fine left her speechless. Her hand trembled as it slid over the soft leather upholstery. Then the slam of a door penetrated her dream-like state and she opened her mouth to scream. Before she could emit a sound he clamped his lips over hers.

Cassie held her breath. What was he doing? She used every muscle she had to push him away. “Arète sa. Stop it,” she cried as she wiped the back of her hand across her quivering lips. Her hand trembled as she fumbled with the door. Before she could figure out how to get it opened, he started the engine and shot off. She gripped the seat in fear. The big car zoomed down the narrow road, spewing dirt in its wake.

A hotel situated at the far end of town appeared to be their destination. He kept a firm grip on her arm as if he knew she’d bolt given the opportunity. He pulled to a stop at the rear of the building. Opening his door, he slid from the automobile pulling her right along with him.

Cassie began to claw his arms with her nails. Her feet kicked the air in front of her as he carried her up the back stairs. She could feel the fast beat of his heart against her cheek as he kept her pressed against him. The mixture of smoke and after-shave tickled her nose.



Whit wanted to kiss her from the first moment he laid eyes on her at the tavern. Her full sensual lips beckoned him and he wanted to taste every delicate nuance hid inside that beautiful orifice. He felt her stiffen as he rammed his tongue between her teeth to explore the secrets within. His left arm snaked around her waist, pulling her tight against him. He could feel her rapid heartbeat against his chest.

He felt himself grow hard, even as she struggled within his embrace. God, she made him harder than he’d thought possible!

He easily maneuvered them up the stairs, her weight like a child’s within his arms. He avoided looking into her eyes, afraid of what he might see. He pulled out a key and unlocked the door. Somewhere in the back of his inebriated brain the thought swelled that she may have been telling the truth.

He barely gave her time to look around the room, before he dumped her on the bed. Her green eyes, large and luminous, stared up at him.

He walked back to the door and locked it with the key, then put it inside a pocket. As his eyes roamed over her he said, “You can enjoy this or not. Either way, there’ll be fifty dollars in it for you.” Then he proceeded to undress.



Her voice froze as a large lump formed in her throat. She stared at him as he kicked off his boots. Then, he began to unbutton his pants. That was when her mind registered what he intended to do with her.

“Non!” she screamed and jumped up.

He caught her before she reached the door, flinging her back down on the bed and tumbling on top of her.

Cassie tried to squirm away, his body a heavy weight on hers. She could feel his lips as they roamed across her skin. His day old beard chaffed her tender flesh. His breath felt hot against her neck as he sunk his teeth into her flesh. She cried out.

He jerked her head back to stare into her eyes. “You can scream, claw at me, even bite me, and it’ll only make me want you more. I always get what I want!” He chanted his motto at her before covering her lips with his to drown out her cries.



On this particular night, the eve of her sixteenth birthday, Cassie understood what he intended to do. She’d read in some romance books what could happen between a man and woman. How a man forced his way on a young woman, who eventually fell in love with the man. She had no intention of becoming like them. As he rained kisses on her cheek, down her throat and to the base of her neck, she turned her face away. Her eyes searched the room for a weapon of some sort.

If only she could reach that lamp. Her left arm splayed out across the bed, fingers stretching to grab the edge of the night table. She felt him rise above her, freeing her enough to slide toward the edge of the bed.

Without thinking through her actions she grabbed the lamp. Clutching it with trembling fingers she swung it toward his head. He tried to duck. Because of the alcohol he’d consumed his movements were sluggish so the lamp connected with his head in a resounding whack.

Cassie watched him fall back on the bed, blood trickling down his cheek. She checked to see if he were alive before searching his pockets for the key. Finally able to unlock the door, she ran down the back stairs and out the rear exit. She didn’t stop running until she reached the edge of town where her cousin stood waiting.

“Where you been?” Arnaud asked Cassie. Cassie sent him a look that shut him up as they made their way across the bayou.

* * *

When Whit finally roused he found himself sprawled upon the bed with his clothes partially off and the worse pain in his head he’d ever experienced. He had a vague memory of the scent of lilacs mixed with cigar smoke.

He attempted to orient himself by sitting up, then wished to heavens he hadn’t. He dropped his head between his knees praying the sickness would subside. When he could, he lifted his head and let his eyes roam the room. He saw the lamp on the floor and wondered what he’d gotten into earlier.

He began to remember the tavern, the girl, and some of the events thereafter. Mostly he recalled trying to take his pleasure from the tavern winch and the resulting head injury. Why hadn’t Jake arranged for him to spend the evening with her? She was the most beautiful creature he’d ever met, and he wanted her.

He recalled how her tall statuesque form moved between the tables. Her light brown arms quickly exchanged empty glasses for filled ones as if she’d been working tables for years. Yet, she couldn’t be more than seventeen he remembered thinking. He felt a stirring of emotion deep within his gut. There was a vulnerable quality about her that spoke of innocence. But, he knew the kind of girls who worked for Jake. There’d been times he’d scooted upstairs to partake of the liberties they offered for the right price.

He got up to pour water from a pitcher into the basin to bathe his face. He felt more cognizant, but it didn’t help the pain that throbbed at his temple. He put on a clean shirt, combed his jet-black hair, and went out into the hall. His business in town was finished, except for finding the girl. Because he hated to lose, he’d find the girl and take what he wanted from her before he left town.

* * *

Chapter Two

Sharla Bodine LaRoux worried about her daughter, Cassie. She knew what kind of trouble a beautiful young woman could get into. One time she’d been young and beautiful. Now, after six children and three miscarries by the time she turned thirty-six, she no longer felt herself beautiful. She worked hard doing other people’s laundry and mending of clothes to keep them with the bare necessities. Cassie felt she needed to help out but working at the tavern was not what she’d hoped for her eldest child.

Cassie thought she’d been asleep when she crept into her room early this morning. But Sharla never went to sleep until Cassie returned home. She wanted to make sure all her children were safe in their room and asleep on their cots before she allowed herself the luxury of a few hours rest.

Sharla let Cassie sleep late this morning, sensing rather than knowing for certain, that something happened either at work or on her way home. She always knew things and accepted the gift she’d had since a child. Yet, this morning instead of confronting her daughter, she waited.



Cassie slept fitfully. The stranger intruded into her dreams and the nightmare of what almost happened returned to haunt her. When she awoke it was mid-morning. She felt as tired upon waking as she had when she fell asleep. However, the chores wouldn’t wait.

Cassie found her mother in back of the small house bent over their old washtub. For a moment, she stood and watched her work. Her mother still retained her slim, girlish figure, almost too slim Cassie thought. Her hair pulled back in a chignon Cassie knew held more gray strands than black these days. When her mother smiled, which wasn’t often, the warmth that used to sparkle in her blue-green eyes had vanquished. The harshness of life took its toll on her mother as it did on all of them.

Cassie went over and put her arms around her. “Good morning, Mère.” She placed a kiss against her cheek.

“How did it go last night?” Sharla looked closely at her daughter. She noticed the deep circles beneath Cassie’s eyes. The hollows where her cheekbones rested. A bruise along the base of Cassie’s throat marred her unblemished complexion.

“Chère! Quoi y a? What’s the matter?” Sharla spoke softly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Non.” Cassie turned her back toward her mother.

Sharla felt the time had come to speak to Cassie of the intimate details between a man and woman. She took Cassie by the shoulders and made her turn toward her. “I suppose it’s time for us to discuss, well, you know, men and other things.”

“S’il vous plaît, mère! I’m aware of what goes on behind closed doors. I am not a child.” Cassie flung down the clothespin she held and marched back into the house.

She let the back screen slam with a loud thud. In her haste she caught her sleeve on a loose wire. A jagged tear rent the thin material. “Coo-yôn! Now look what you’ve done,” she scolded herself.

To keep her mind off last night, Cassie began to prepare their next meal. While she pounded and kneaded dough to make bread for the next day she couldn’t help but wonder about the man that abducted her last night. The image of him swam before her face. She remembered deep, gray eyes amid a rugged countenance: A handsome daredevil.

“Arète sa. Stop it,” she berated herself. But the remembrance of his kisses brought a flush to her skin. His lips were rough, but tender in their attempt to woo her. Soft, yet firm. And the way he used his tongue… c’est assez. That’s enough, she scolded herself.

Angry at her wayward thoughts, Cassie let the dish she held slip from her fingers. The sound it made as it hit the plank floor reverberated throughout the small kitchen. It scattered into several fragments.

She muttered under her breath at her own clumsiness while she got a broom to sweep up the scattered pieces. Her mother came through the door before she finished the task.

“Cassie Angelica,” her mother began, and then recognizing the rebellious glint in Cassie’s eyes, she garbled in her Cajun dialect something about Cassie’s father and what she’d like to do to him.

“Sa me fait de la pain. I’m sorry.” Cassie noted the worried frown on her mother’s face. “I’ll get this cleaned up and finish lunch.”

Finally alone, Cassie let her thoughts wonder back to last night. She imagined the man’s lips pressed against hers. It was the first time she’d been kissed. Even though the situation had been unpleasant, the sensation of his lips touching hers had not.

“Cassie Angelica,” she mimicked her mother’s voice, “stop that fantasizing right now, no good will ever come from that.” Cassie took a tight rein on her wayward thoughts as she finished preparations for their meal.

* * *

Whit wasn’t at all pleased at how his conversation with Jake ended. It seems the girl had been right; she was not one of the willing that worked upstairs. But damn it all, he wanted her. He could still feel the desire that raged through him last night when his lips plundered hers. He couldn’t erase her memory, or her scent.

Jake told him, after much persuasion, where to find her home. After bribing an old trapper to transport him across the bayou, he followed the map that Jake drew him. When he cleared the brush to come upon a clearing he stopped cold in his tracks. In his estimation it was nothing more than a small shanty built on short stilts. The condition of the building was so unbelievable he couldn’t imagine anyone living in it. Where is the girl’s father? Didn’t the man try to keep their home in good repair?



Just as Cassie finished readying the table to call them to come eat, a knock sounded at the front door.

Assuming it was a customer of her mother’s, Cassie flung it open. She stared at the man standing on their stoop. Tall, with slim hips, and feet planted slightly apart, he held a hat loosely in his hands. Cassie stared up at him. A strange tingling settled way down in her belly. She swore quietly beneath her breath so her mother couldn’t hear.

“What do you want?” Cassie scowled up at him.

“Good morning. I wanted to apologize for last night.”

“Shah, go away. Leave me alone.” Cassie started to close the door, when her mother’s voice spoke behind her.

A mix of English and rapid fire Cajun French spewed from her mother’s lips so fast Cassie had trouble keeping up. Finally, her mother shoved Cassie aside to smile at the gentlemen standing quietly on their porch.

“Bonjour Monsieur. Please excuse my daughter’s rudeness.” Opening the door, Sharla motioned him to come inside.



Whit hesitated. The daggers shooting from the eyes of the younger version of the woman before him, gave him reason to pause. What the hell, he thought as he stepped inside their home.

Shack is the word that came to mind when he stepped across the threshold. The walls so thin he could hear wind whistling through the boards. God of mercy, where was the man of the house? Suddenly a swarm of children swooped upon them, their chatter going nonstop in their native language. He couldn’t understand a word they said.

He assumed the woman who welcomed him inside was the mother of this brood, told the children to hush, before she extended her hand toward him. “Monsieur. I’m Sharla LaRoux. What brings you out here?”

Whit took the proffered hand. He could feel calluses on her palm and wondered again why someone that once held as much beauty as her daughter had to live in such harsh surroundings. He quickly squashed any feeling of pity for her. The proud carriage of her body told him that pity would not be welcomed in her home. She couldn’t be but a few years older than his thirty-one years.

“Monsieur?”

“Madame, I’ve come to speak with your daughter. With your permission, of course.”

Cassie stood back out of the way, but tilted up her chin when her mother turned to stare at her. A question hovered in her eyes. “My daughter?”

Whit coughed to clear his throat. “I owe her an apology. I’d like to ask permission to take her to dinner.” Stunned that those words flew out of his mouth, he clamped down on his jaw.

Sharla shot a meaningful look toward Cassie.



Cassie wanted to fall through the plank floor. “Mère, it was nothing. Please, leave us alone.” She turned to leave the room when her mother’s voice stopped her.

“Cassie Angelica LaRoux! Vien ici, come here this instant.”

“Oui?” Cassie turned to face them. Wringing her hands, she waited for her mother to reprimand her.

“Cassie, let him apologize. Dôn be so coo-yôn! Don’t be so foolish,” Her mother said.

Cassie squared her shoulders before lifting her eyes to stare into his. “Merci, it’s not necessary.”

“Oh but I insist.” He said, smiling at her.

Her mother broke their standoff with, “Monsieur, may I ask your name?”

“Sorry, Madame. Whit Blalock. I’m in town on business for a few days.”

“Well, Mr. Blalock. I’m sure Cassie would be happy to accept your invitation. What time would you like her to be ready?”

Cassie squinted at her mother. How could she? “Mother, s’il vous plaît. J’ai peur! Mother, please, I’m afraid!” She said rapidly hoping he couldn’t understand their dialect.

Her mother frowned. Then a light seemed to go on inside her head. She smiled at Cassie. Turning back to Whit, she said, “Cassie accepts. What time will you pick her up?”

After he left Cassie stormed out the back door. How could her mother pawn her off like that? She felt as if she were being thrown to the wolves. What did her mother expect to come of this ‘date’? Did she think he’d take her away from here? That he’d be their salvation from this hell their father forced upon them?

* * *

Whit lived by his own rules, and yet even he surprised himself at times. Being somewhat curious and still wanting a certain delicious beauty he later decided to keep their date. He also planned to seduce her into his bed as soon as possible.

The business deal that brought him to town concluded to his satisfaction, which left the rest of the afternoon and evening to do as he pleased. He made dinner reservations at a local seafood restaurant, one he felt that would be more casual dining than formal. After seeing the condition of the shanty where Cassie lived, he wouldn’t be surprised to learn she didn’t have any formal eveningwear. For some reason it bothered him that she might be made to feel uncomfortable on their first date.

Whit checked his appearance in the mirror one more time, then deemed himself ready. He couldn’t believe how nervous he felt. Could it be the anticipation of tasting her delights that caused his palms to sweat? She must be a virgin. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been with someone so innocent. That must be it. He wiped his hands one more time on the towel he used to dry his face before finally taking up his hat and coat to leave.

* * *

Cassie didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to see that man again because she feared what he might do. Mostly she feared the way her own body betrayed her just remembering his kiss. Her mother meant well, she knew that. If she met and married someone that could support her and possibly help out her family, then Cassie knew it would please her mother. But she’d just turned sixteen which was way too young to get involved with a man. Even though her mother married young and her grandmother and all the Bodine women, it didn’t mean that Cassie should.

But Cassie would do what needed to be done to help her family. She hated the fact that her mother had to work so hard to take care of them, while her father did nothing. Left them with nothing and never looked back. Resigned to whatever fate dealt her, Cassie tried her best to look presentable.

She didn’t own any fancy dresses, but her mother had enough time this afternoon to alter her one good dress and make it presentable. Cassie washed her hair and took a bath. Her mother gave her some perfume to use and added some rouge to her cheeks. Now as Cassie stood before the mirror in her mother’s room, she couldn’t believe the transformation. She no longer looked like an innocent child, but a beautiful young woman.

The red dress she wore fell to her ankles in soft folds. Cinched at the waist it emphasized her tiny waistline, and the scooped neckline enhanced her bosom. Her mother brought out a shiny gold locket to fasten around her neck. The locket fell just above her cleavage.

“There, chère. Let me look at you.” Sharla turned her daughter around. Tears formed in her eyes as she looked at Cassie.

“Do I have to go?” Cassie whined.

“Stop that. You need to have some fun. It’s your birthday. You’ve become a beautiful young lady. This is your chance to shine!”

“J’ai peur. I’m afraid.”

“That’s natural. Every young woman is afraid on her first date. Life isn’t fair, and now you have an opportunity to enjoy it a little. So, go, have fun. Later we’ll talk, about things other than what you’ve read in those silly romances!”

Cassie knew she would remember tonight for the rest of her life.

* * *

CHAPTER THREE

July 1952, Terrebonne Parish

Cassie lay upon the bed in the mid-wife’s home with sweat beading on her forehead and the pain almost more than she could bear. She clinched her lips together when the next contraction consumed her. She wanted to die. How could this have happened to her? She whispered cuss words beneath her breath not wanting her mother to hear her swear.

The pain subsided and Cassie once again thought back to the night that changed her life forever. Whit Blalock proved to be a gentleman that night. She knew he wanted something from her that she only read about in those books that were given to her by her mother’s customers. Yet, when the evening ended he took her straight home and asked her to join him for lunch the next day.

She went the next day and several after that, until he went back to Monroe where he said he lived. She didn’t know much about his business, but she knew he had to be successful. He started presenting her with little extravagant gifts, which she sold to help buy food and clothes for her siblings. She didn’t let her mother know about the gifts or that she sold them. She told her mother that her tips were good that week when she bought them extra food. Her mother was elated that Whit kept coming around, and Cassie knew that her mother hoped she’d end up marrying him. Cassie felt she was too young to marry and he never asked her.

Now here she is about to give birth. She felt a tremendous amount of pressure in her lower abdomen, she tried to sit up. She wanted to push. The midwife held her down, telling her to wait, not yet. Wait? Is she crazy?

To take her mind off the pressure, she thought back to the night she met a friend of Whit’s, Paul Morgan. They were in town on business, traveling together Whit told her, and Paul wanted to meet her. It made Cassie proud to think that Whit thought enough of her to introduce his friend. He came with Whit on his visits for the next few months. He came every couple of weeks even when Whit had business elsewhere and couldn’t come. That is until her pregnancy became obvious. She didn’t believe Paul would tell Whit about her pregnancy, and she never did either. Whit told her he’d come back whenever his other business dealings were finished. By the time her pregnancy began to show Whit hadn’t returned. By then Paul quit coming to see her. It really hurt her when he stopped coming to visit. She thought they were friends.

Cassie remembered that Paul said if she ever needed anything to call him. She got the distinct impression that he was falling in love with her. And she also felt that he was very angry toward Whit.

Finally the mid-wife told her to push, and as Cassie expelled for the last time, she heard a small cry that became louder by the second. Shortly thereafter a small wrapped bundle was placed in her arms.

Cassie looked down into a tiny, shriveled face and knew instantly that she couldn’t keep the baby. This special little girl needed parents who could take care of her. Tears streamed down Cassie’s face. Not from the pain of delivery, but from knowing that she’d never see her daughter grow into a woman. Cassie prayed for strength to do the right thing for them all. Seventeen and penniless she could offer only love to this little baby. Because of love she needed to let her go. Her heart tore apart. She wondered if it would ever mend.



Cassie sealed the envelope and put it out for the postman. In it she tells Paul that she must give up her baby. She asks him to make all the necessary arrangements to see that the baby is placed in a good home. Cassie knew nothing about the laws of adoption, but she trusted Paul. He’d become a friend to her and if she hadn’t given her heart to Whit, Paul would gladly have taken his place. He’d told her that in so many words in his correspondence. So, she turned to him instead of Whit, not fully understanding why she did so, but accepting that as the way it should be. Now she had to wait until Paul could make the arrangements.

* * *

Whit put the phone back in its cradle and rubbed his hands over his face. “Damn!” The oil contract he’d spent the last three months negotiating fell through. He’d lose a bundle and he’d be forced to accept the offer from Samuel Long.

He’d already spent several months away from Cassie and he longed for her. Cassie refused to let him take care of her and she refused to let him have a phone installed in their home. His only way of communicating with her was by mail, or he’d call her at the tavern when he knew she’d be working.

His good friend Paul Morgan for some unknown reason had avoided him the last few months. Whit couldn’t understand why he was so angry at him, or what he may have done to set him off. Paul wouldn’t say but Whit suspected it had to do with Cassie. He knew Paul thought a lot of Cassie and sometimes Whit felt a bit jealous. Whit had been the first for Cassie and she’d fallen in love with him. But he couldn’t marry her. Unfortunately he was betrothed to another, Dorothy Jane Long, Samuel Long’s only child.

The phone rang breaking off his retrospection. “Blalock, here.” Whit glanced at the clock, five o’clock.

“Whit, darling. Don’t forget rehearsal tonight.”

Ugh. How could he be expected to listen to that whiny voice for the next thirty or so years? “Dora, I told you I expected an important call to come through. I’ll be there in plenty of time. Good-bye.” He hung up. God in heaven why couldn’t that contract have gone through?

He kept coming back to the thought of Cassie and how he missed her. If only. If only his father hadn’t signed on to join forces with Samuel Long. If only his father hadn’t suddenly died leaving him to finish negotiations with Long.

Samuel Long was a driven man. He wanted grandchildren, a legacy to leave behind. How unfortunate for Whit, his father made a deal with the devil for Whit to marry his only daughter. People stopped making marriage deals long ago, or so he believed. How could he go against what his father set down in his will? Whit wanted his inheritance. So Long and Blalock would merge and hopefully become the largest gas and oil drilling company in the state.

If he survived his wedding night!

* * *

Cassie rinsed off the glasses and returned them to their rightful place behind the bar. Paul took the baby and assured Cassie that she had been placed in a good home with good people that would love and care for her. Three months later she found herself in mourning and questioning whether she had done the right thing. Her mother understood her pain, and tried to console her, but nothing helped.

Jake stood behind the bar with Cassie. “Cassie, shâ, dear, please go get de glasses from the kitchen.” Jake’s eyes held a twinkle. He seemed a bit more jolly than usual.

Cassie dried the last glass and put it on the shelf. “Oui.” She didn’t mind helping with the dishes and Jake paid her extra to do other chores around the tavern. Not giving it a second thought she pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen then heard a familiar voice.

There stood Whit, all six feet two inches, jet-black hair with gray eyes that drilled holes right through her heart. She couldn’t breathe.

“Cassie! Sweetheart, come here!” Whit held out his arms thinking she’d run right into them.

Cassie couldn’t move. She’d longed for this moment until the day her baby left her arms for the last time. Now she didn’t know what she felt. Confused, hurt, and still, a piece of her wanted to run and jump into those arms. She couldn’t do it. Not yet.

Whit dropped his arms. “Cassie, I’m sorry it’s been so long. My father passed away suddenly. I had business that couldn’t wait, and I came as soon as I could. Please, sweetheart, forgive me?”

Oh what a fool she could be. As her mother would say, ‘dôn be so coo-yôn!’ She found herself moving into his arms and Dieu, God, it felt so good!

Whit scooped her up to swing her around. When he let her slide down the length of his body, she felt his instant arousal. And God help her, she wanted him too!

Cassie wrapped her arms around his neck to give in to his kiss. She opened her mouth to let his tongue slide inside and mate with hers. In the back of her mind she registered the sound of whistles from the kitchen help, and began to struggle free. Embarrassed, she pushed Whit back.

“Don’t!”

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Then he noticed how the others around were gawking at them. “Sorry. Let’s go someplace where we can talk privately.”

Cassie spread her hands, palms down, against the apron she wore. She felt so many mixed emotions--excitement, nervousness, embarrassment--she didn’t know what she should do.

Jake poked his head through the doors to say, “Go, take de rest of the night off.”

Whit pulled her toward the rear door, “Come on. Let’s get out of hear and go someplace quiet.”

“Wait!” Cassie stopped Whit from pulling on her. “Jake, are ya sure?”

Jake nodded his head, “Oui. Go!”

Cassie removed her apron then picked up her things from the back office where they had individual cubbyholes for personal items.

Whit wrapped his arm around her waist and practically picked her up to carry her out the door. Before he opened the door to his automobile, he leaned her against it to devour her mouth once more.

She felt freesôns, goose bumps, run down her spine. Pooyah-ee! Good grief, she thought, I’m not giving in to him so easily. She couldn’t allow that to happen. Not after the pain she suffered in giving away her baby. Again she called herself a fool. She’s only seventeen and full of hope that all will come out right in the end. So she shoved the doubts aside to give in to passion.

Whit drove them to the same hotel the Du Boise Royale and escorted her inside. Keeping a firm grasp on her arm, he led them through the front doors. Cassie felt a nervous tingle down her spine. As if they were being watched. It was an unpleasant sensation. She glanced about as they made their way toward the staircase.

Not many people stood around the front desk. Only a few were seated in the lounging area. She caught a glimpse of a man wearing some type of foreign hat, but he looked away as soon as her eyes met his. He pulled his hat down low over the front of his face before taking a step backwards. It put him behind a large white column dividing the front foyer with the lounging area. Whit didn’t linger but propelled them up the staircase, which didn’t give her enough time to get a good look at the man. She noticed his height and judged it to be about the same as Whit’s six feet or so. And he was white. He didn’t appear to be from this area. He seemed more of a business-type than a trapper or fisherman.

The tingling down her back continued until they turned the corner at the top of the staircase. Cassie felt Whit slip his arm around her waist to pull her close and once again she felt a shiver down her spine, but this time it felt good.

Later, after being thoroughly kissed and made love to, Cassie again reprimanded herself for being such a foolish girl. At her age she didn’t know much about life, and certainly not about love, but she knew in her heart that Whit would be the only man for her. Not because she’d born his child and not because he was the one that introduced her to sex, but because in her soul she felt they were meant for each other. Perhaps she told herself, she’s just naïve. And though he whispered words of love while thrusting into her womanhood, she knew that he held a secret part of himself from her. She sensed it with all her being. She wanted to talk to him about it, but couldn’t find the words. The gift her mother passed down to her, told her that Whit had another life elsewhere and Cassie would not be made a part of it.

“Cassie,” Whit’s voice broke into her thoughts.

“Oui?” She stopped brushing her hair to look up at him.

“I’m worried about you and your family. Would you reconsider letting me buy you a nice house that will accommodate all of you? It would make me feel better when I have to leave you here if I knew you had a better place to live.”

“Hmmm.” Cassie turned back toward the mirror and finished putting her hair in a French braid. After all she’d been through perhaps she should let him. She knew it would make her a kept woman and she didn’t know if she could handle that concept. Why didn’t he just ask to marry her? Did he really love her, or just want sex with her?

“Cassie, sweetheart. Please. Let’s go look at a house right now.” Whit turned her around to lift her face up so he could see into her eyes. Searching her countenance, he tilted his head to one side to gaze at her. “What is it? What’s bothering you?”

Cassie moved her head slightly so he’d drop his hold. “Nothing. If that’s what you really want, then so be it.” She stood up, picked up her purse and waited for him to open the door.

After Whit slipped on his hat, he opened the door and let Cassie precede him out the door into the hallway. Taking her arm he led them back down the same staircase and out into the front. She didn’t say much as they traveled to their destination. It never dawned on her that she didn’t have transportation to and from the tavern to wherever they may live. Not until they reached the city did she realize it was more miles than she cared to walk.

Whit pulled into a private drive where he stopped the car. The house was situated on a small lot surrounded by large trees. It had a little white picket fence in front and as Whit opened the gate, a woman came out of the house.

“Bonjou. Monsieur, Memselle.”

“Hello, Mrs. Boudreaux?”

“Oui. You wish to see the house. Please, come inside.”

Whit led Cassie up the steps and as they stepped inside the doorway, Cassie knew instantly that this house should be their new home.

* * *

CHAPTER FOUR

January 1954. Near Houma, La.

Dancing and music were a favorite pastime to most Cajuns and what better place to celebrate her nineteenth birthday than where she worked, the Jolly Café. After settling in the house that Whit bought for them, Cassie sought work close to home. She found an ideal place in the Jolly Café, with a fun, family atmosphere that boasts the best Cajun dishes in around. She didn’t have to contend with groping hands which made for ideal working conditions.

“Cassie, shâ, dôn do dat! It’s your birthday! Sit.”

Cassie smiled at the man who took the tray from her. “Merci.” She sat at the table beside her mother and siblings. She wished Whit were here, but she knew that if possible he would show up and if not, it wasn’t the first birthday he missed.

As the fiddler tuned his strings, the group on stage prepared for their next song. Cassie settled back to enjoy the sounds of good Cajun music.

Nineteen years old. Two years since she held her baby girl. The pain of her decision haunts her even today. The ache never lessens. The love she feels for her family, the desire to protect and provide for them became stronger after letting go of her baby. So when Whit offered again to buy them a house she decided to let him. After one walk through, she knew the house was meant for them.

But, she yearns as any young woman, for the man of her dreams to marry her and make it all legal. Yet, Whit never mentions marriage, only comes around once or twice a month if even that much, and makes sure that all is well with them.

He set up a bank account and taught her how to take care of her funds. He sends her money each month which she saves more than half of it for the future. She tells herself that he’ll come around one of these days and marry her. In the meantime she works, saves, and takes care of her family.

“Cassie, come, let’s dance!” The young man pulled her up from her seat to lead her onto the dance floor.

Antoine swung her around then followed the beat of a fast two-step as they danced across the floor. Laughing, Cassie looked at him with a twinkle in her eye. “Antoine, why are you wasting time with me? You should be courting some other young female.”

“Ah, shâ, you know you’re the only one for me.” He laughed, pulling her closer as the music changed to a slow beat.

Cassie sometimes wished she could feel something for Antoine, but she only felt friendship. He’s handsome she’d tell herself, and more her age, but it didn’t do any good. Her heart didn’t listen.

When the song ended she insisted on sitting out the next number and as she made her way back to the table, she felt a tingling along her back. Turning her head swiftly she caught a glimpse of a man that seemed familiar. She watched as he slipped on his hat; then exited through the side door. What made her think she knew him? The hat! Several times over the past year she’d seen that same style hat on a man who would appear out of no where to watch her. Why would anyone want to watch her? She asked herself this, before dismissing the notion as being silly. She went back to the table where she joined her party and simply pushed all nagging suspicions to the back of her mind.

When they brought out the cake and sang ‘happy birthday’ Cassie blew out the candles making the same wish she always did. This time though, when she looked up from blowing out the candles, Whit stood before her with a large package and big smile on his face.

“Cassie. Sweetheart.” He held out the wrapped box, leaned down to kiss her lips saying, “Happy Birthday!”

“Whit, you’re here!”

Cassie stood up so he could wrap her in his arms. She whispered, “Je t’aime. I love you.”

“I love you too. Sorry I’m late.” He smiled at the others then leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Ah hon, I’ve missed you something fierce. When will this shindig be over?”

Cassie leaned her head back to look up into his eyes. Her heart filled with love. He did love her. “Soon. Sit down, have some cake while I open your present.”

Cassie moved over so he could join them. She took care to unwrap the package without tearing the shiny paper. When finally she removed the lid her mouth dropped open in surprise.

She saw the most beautiful dress. As she lifted it out of the box, a hush fell around the room. All eyes turned toward her. She felt her face flame. Surely it couldn’t be a wedding gown?

The satin material felt cool against her fingers. The scoop neckline held tiny stones that she’d never seen before. They sparkled like diamonds. She stood up to hold the dress before her, letting the hem fall around her ankles.

“Beautiful. There are no words to describe how beautiful you will be in that dress. I hope you like it.” Whit gazed at her adoringly, his eyes raking her from head to foot.

“It is beautiful. Merci.” Cassie folded the dress up and returned it to the box.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Is it not the right size?”

“I’m sure it’s fine. It’s, well, too extravagant for my needs. You can return it?” Cassie closed the lid and placed the box under the table while they continued to enjoy her cake.

“Return it? I suppose so. Does this mean you won’t marry me?” Whit looked bemused.

“Qui t’a dit? What did you say?”

Whit chuckled as he got down on one knee to take her hand. “Cassie, my sweet, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Cassie couldn’t believe her own ears. The joyous cry from her mother confirmed what Cassie heard. Whit asked her to be his bride! Her birthday wish came true.

Wrapping her arms about his neck, she smiled. “Oui. Merci. Yes, thank you. This is the best birthday present you could ever give me!” Regardless of the onlookers Cassie kissed him passionately on the mouth.

Whit stood up with Cassie in his arms, holding her against him so tight. “I can’t breathe,” she laughed, pulling back to gaze into his eyes.

“It feels so good to hold you. I forget my own strength.” He loosened his hold on her so she could sit down.

He slid down beside her on the bench seat and produced a smaller box from his pocket. Opening it, Cassie saw the most gorgeous diamond ring. Her hand trembled when he placed it upon her finger.

Cassie held her hand out for her mother to see and laughed as the others expressed astonishment over the size of the diamond.

Next in line to congratulate her, Antoine bent over and wrapped her in a big bear hug. He whispered in her ear so only she could hear, “J’ai peur for you. I’m afraid for you. Gete toi. Watch out for yourself.”

Cassie squeezed him tight. “Merci. I’ll be fine.”

Apparently Whit didn’t like the look of the young man because he leaned toward Cassie asking, “What did he say?”

“Nothing, just wished us well,” Cassie lied.

They wrapped up the evening with a couple of dances where Whit invited her mother to join him. As they danced Cassie watched her mother. Since they’d moved into town and things were better for them, her mother’s complexion smoothed out and the light again sparkled in her eyes. Perhaps one day her mother could love again.

The other five children, ranging in ages from five years to sixteen, began to help clear the table. Cassie, used to waiting tables, didn’t mind cleaning up even on her night off. But the owner had other ideas. “What de I say? Dôn do dat. Foute ton quant d’ici. Get away from here.” He motioned for her stop and let them take care of the dishes.

Cassie gathered her presents and waited for the dance to end when Whit and her mother rejoined their group.

“Why don’t we drop off your mother and the children, so we can go somewhere and be alone for a while? We have a lot to discuss.”

Whit wanted to get her alone and Cassie knew for what purpose. Not that she minded, she missed him and it had been a long time since they’d made love. Sometimes it shocked her to admit how much she enjoyed sex and God what would her mother say if she knew the things that Whit taught her to do!




He must be out of his mind, Whit thought. How else can you explain the proposal to Cassie when he’s married to Dora! Did he believe he could pull off being a bigamist? He couldn’t tell Cassie the truth, not now. She’d never forgive him and he did love her. More than anything, so just what, he asked himself, did he plan to do?

Whit mulled over the situation as he drove all of them home. He knew one thing for certain: He would never let Cassie out of his life. She belonged with him!

When they arrived at the little house, he noticed curtains in the window, and plants on the windowsill. The house looked homey and comfortable from outside and he knew the inside would feel that way too. He watched as they piled out of the car and Cassie’s siblings hurried inside the house. They all seemed so happy. Even when they lived in that God-awful shanty, they seemed happy. Somehow kids just always make a place homier. He wanted children. Dora couldn’t seem to make it happen. She miscarried every time he got her pregnant. He didn’t understand the problem and neither did her doctor.

Sam Long, Dora’s father, kept hounding him for a grandchild. What the hell did he want him to do about it? Why couldn’t it have been Sam that died instead of his own father? Then he could have married Cassie and had a passel of kids. Sam hinted that maybe they should adopt, but Whit didn’t want to do that.

“Ready?” Cassie asked, breaking into his thoughts.

“Definitely.” Whit released the brake and set the vehicle in motion.

Cassie watched him from the corner of her eye, wondering what he’d been thinking. “Is something wrong? Have you changed your mind about us?” She hoped not, yet her nerves were on edge for some reason.

“Of course not! It’s work. I’ll have to go back to Monroe in the morning. I hate leaving you so soon.” Whit reached over to take her hand in his to raise it to his lips. He kissed her palm as he so often did when they were traveling.

Cassie kept quiet sensing that what he said was only half true. From the corner of her eye she noticed a black cat dart across a yard into the street. She felt Whit slam on the brakes throwing her forward. She braced her arms against the dashboard to keep from hurting herself.

“Damn cat.” Whit cursed.

Cassie didn’t say a word. There are some things you don’t mess with, and superstition is one of them. In her part of the world, one knows better.



Whit parked the automobile and ran around to the other side to open the door for Cassie. Holding her hand, he guided her inside the foyer where the desk clerk recognized him and said hello.

Whit nodded to him, but kept right on moving, not wanting to waste a second of what little time he had to spend with Cassie. Upstairs inside the room, he already had prepared a bottle of Champaign, a dozen roses, and a special treat of strawberries dipped in chocolate. He knew Cassie would be delighted.

“Oh goodness.” Cassie went over to touch the roses, then lifted up a silver dome where the strawberries lay on a white doily. Taking one, she bit into it and the flavor of strawberry and chocolate sort of melted against her taste buds. “Hmmm,” she took another bite.

Whit came up behind her to nuzzle her neck. “You like?” He asked after placing butterfly kisses against her skin.

“Oui! Delicious.” Cassie turned in his arms holding up one finger against his lips. Whit flicked his tongue to take the dollop of chocolate off the tip then took the rest of her finger into his mouth to suckle.

“Hmmm. Strawberries aren’t the only thing in this room that tastes good!” He moved from her finger to her mouth.

Cassie melted in his arms. Her body pressed against the length of his, her breast against his chest and her nipples hardened. She felt little tingles like needles piercing her nipples. Moaning in his mouth, she swayed against him.

Whit picked her up and carried her to the bed where he laid her gently down. He took his time unbuttoning her bodice so he could gaze upon her.

He managed to get the front of her dress open and took one breast in his hand so he could lave the areola with his tongue. He bathed it, suckled, then kissed his way up her chest to her throat where he felt the rapid beat of her pulse.

Cassie pressed Whit’s head against her breast. Tendrils of fire whipped through her, which caused her to moan aloud. She raised her hips in invitation not wanting to wait another moment to feel him inside of her. Consumed with passion, love, and plain old greed, she wanted him to ravish her, body and soul.

It seemed he had his own ideas, and could not be rushed. He ignored her subtle hint and took his time undressing her.

As each piece of clothing fell to the floor, his eyes devoured her. Every place his gaze touched, she burned. She felt the heat from the tip of her toes to the top of her head. Finally Cassie lay naked before him. It amazed him how unaware she appeared about her beauty. She didn’t flaunt it, nor did she act as if she believed herself pretty, or enticing. Her innocence always blew him away. And made him horny as hell.



When he removed his clothing he stood before her. Cassie sat up knowing what he wanted her to do. She didn’t mind touching him there, in fact she rather likes the taste of him. But somewhere in the back of her mind, a tiny part of her knew that only whores performed such acts. She didn’t feel that Whit treated her like a whore.

Just because he bought them a house, sent her money, didn’t mean that she was a kept woman. Or did it? She almost choked. She pushed those thoughts from her mind, to concentrate on the task at hand. She wanted to feel and forget everything else. She just wanted to be with Whit.



Whit closed his eyes and let Cassie’s mouth take him away. The wonder of her touch, her tongue, her lips, caused him to moan. He threw back his head, bared his teeth to emit a low growl. With his hands on the back of her head he spewed his seed into her mouth.

When his climax ended, he lifted her up and placed his mouth over hers where the taste of his seed lingered. Deepening the kiss, he let his hands roam over her flesh while his libido started to recover. Always with Cassie it only took a few minutes for him to be ready for round two. No other woman could arouse him so quickly.



Cassie felt him stiffen and reached between them to caress his member. She never felt frightened of his size, except for the first time. Once the fear passed, pleasure took over and never again did she feel afraid when Whit came to her. Now, she waited patiently, accepting his kiss and caress knowing that in a few moments it would be her turn. Whit took pleasure in making her happy, and the ways he taught her, well, they were beyond words!

Whit pushed her back down on the bed, where he began to kiss her from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. She felt his tongue as it flicked over her skin. Wherever he touched he left a trail of fire that consumed her exposed flesh. She writhed beneath him, whispering words of love in her own dialect even though she knew he did not understand. She translated the message through body language when she spread her legs wide to accommodate his size.

She lifted her hips to meet his thrust, her vagina wet and trembling in anticipation of the first contact. When he entered her, she clinched her muscles to hold him tight. “Sa me donne les frissons down my spine.” She whispered. Basically she told him it gives her chills.

Whit pulled back to gaze into her eyes. “I love you my darling. Don’t ever forget that.”

“Je t’aime.” She said as he took her over the edge. Cassie felt the warmth of his seed flow into her womb, felt the clinching of her muscles as her own spasms rocked her world. A little devil of doubt began to nag her, what if she ended up with child again? What would Whit say, or better yet, do?

* * *

CHAPTER FIVE

Monroe, La. Grimes Detective Agency

“What do you mean, you lost track of him? I’m paying you to follow my son-in-law and to report back to me every place and every person he visits in and around Houma.” Samuel Long paced back and forth across the floor.

“As I told you, Mr. Long, I had to take a short break, you know, to pee, and when I got back inside they were gone.” Clayton Grimes wished he’d never met Sam Long, or his son-in-law Whit Blalock. He cursed the day that he’d answered the call from Long.

Long stopped pacing to let what Clayton said register in his brain. “They? He was with someone?”

Clayton could have bitten his tongue off for letting that slip. He did not intend to tell Mr. Long about the woman and all her children. Especially Cassie. He found Cassie to be a very intriguing young woman and did not want to soil her name by telling Sam Long about her.

“Well not exactly. I couldn’t be certain since they cleared out by the time I returned.” Clayton wiped a trickle of sweat from his brow.

“Did you check his hotel where he usually stays? Maybe he went back there.”

“Of course I did. Checked with the front desk, but they said he hadn’t returned.” Okay, so he’s lying, but he’d be damn if he told what he knew.

“Fine. He’s due back today. I’ll let you know when he plans to return, then you make damn certain you don’t lose him!” And with that Sam Long stormed out slamming the door in his wake.

Clayton groped his front shirt pocket thinking to light up a cigarette. It was empty. Then he recalled his vow to quit the bad habit. His wife, Beth, hated the smell of smoke on his clothes and skin so he’d promised to quit. Oh hell, days like today he could really use a smoke.

He didn’t like Sam Long. He didn’t care much for Whit Blalock either. Not after what he’s been doing with that poor child, Cassie. The man should be ashamed using her like that! It’s too bad the father isn’t around. Maybe he should do something about that. Instead of keeping tabs on Whit and Cassie, he should try and find her father.

Guess another trip down south would be necessary. Clayton made entries in his journal for his record keeping before heading home. Some days it didn’t pay to be a private investigator. And on those days he wondered why he’d chosen this particular field.

* * *

Near Houma, La

Cassie drifted on a cloud the next day. Her best friend, Laura, couldn’t stop talking about her upcoming wedding. Cassie didn’t know what to tell her because Whit never got around to discussing any plans. They made love. Fell asleep in each other’s arms, and this morning he left.

She didn’t know when or if there would really be a wedding. Her intuition kept putting out vibes that made her unsure about any future with Whit. It didn’t help that last night an old dream haunted her. She recalled waking up at one point thinking about her father, but couldn’t remember anything about the dream. Whit reached over and pulled her close saying ‘it’s only a bad dream, go back to sleep’. But this morning something dark and heavy weighed her down.

“Cassie, your order’s up. Come an git it.”

Cassie tossed back her hair, along with her dispelling mood, put a smile on her face and took the plate of crawfish and clams to the table. She liked working here and the people were wonderful. Like her extended family. And the owner, well Cleve treats her like one of his daughters. Which made her think of her own father.

He used to toss her up in the air when she was young and twirl her around, then sit her on top of his shoulders. Then as she grew older and taller, becoming a young lady he started treating her differently. She remembered how he used to stand at the door to her room and watch her. She…

“Cassie, you gonna hold dat plate all night or set it down so they can eat?” Cleve passed by her going toward the dance floor, shaking his head, mumbling to himself.

She shook off the thoughts that wanted to intrude and ruin her good mood. Setting the plate of food on the table, Cassie asked if they needed anything else, before going to check on her other customers.

Later she could reminisce, now she needed to work and hopefully make some good tip money. She needed to buy a new nightgown for her wedding night.

Arnaud her cousin just recently moved in with them. He started working at the Jolly Café as dishwasher. So they usually walked home together. Tonight as he joined Cassie, she noticed a particular girl hanging around the open door as they let themselves out.

“Good bye Lucia.” Cassie heard Arnaud say, while Cassie pretended not to notice. With her head bowed she watched her cousin lean down and give the girl a quick kiss on the lips. The girl smiled and quickly turned back inside the café and closed the door.

Whistling Arnaud walked beside Cassie.

“Tell me cousin, just how sweet are you on Lucia?”

“Tais toi, shut up Cassie.”

Cassie laughed. “Come on Arnaud, don’t be embarrassed. I think she’s a sweet girl. I hope you’ll be happy.”

“She’s pregnant.”

Cassie stopped dead in her tracks. “Arnaud, please tell me you’re not responsible. If you are, then you marry her and do not let her give up her baby!”

Arnaud realized his mistake as soon as the words left his mouth, but it was too late to take them back. “It’s not mine. She won’t say who the father is, but I told her I’d help her.”

“Good. What does she plan to do?”

“We’re getting married and she’ll have the baby. I think she was raped by someone in her family.”

“Non. That’s awful. After you marry, you’ll bring her to live with us. We’ll make room. I have money saved. We’ll add a room onto the house or something.”

Arnaud grabbed Cassie by the shoulders and gave her a tight squeeze. “You mean it? We can stay with you?”

“Of course you can. You’re family. Lucia and the baby will be a part of our family. We’ll work it out. Come, let’s get home, I’m tired.”

Later that night when the dreams came Cassie didn’t have Whit to snuggle against. The shadow of someone leaning over her bed as she tried to crawl into an invisible ball made her whimper. She fought against the invisible hands as they reached out to stroke her skin.

Suddenly, Cassie bolted up in bed. The lingering sense of fear clamored through her body. Her skin felt clammy and cold to the touch. The rapid beat of her heart became painful. She pressed her open palm against her chest to try and ease the throbbing. She forced herself to take slow, deep breaths while telling herself it’s only a dream. She has nothing to fear.

Yet, the dream left an indiscernible mark on her. Sleep didn’t come again for hours. When the sun broke through the slit in the curtain to caress her face, Cassie groaned and rolled over, pulling a pillow over her head.

She tried to sleep but it eluded her. Giving up she rose, tossed on a robe and went to the kitchen to make coffee. She knew her mother would be working in her sewing room, mending clothes and ironing. Cassie started the coffee then went to check on her.

“Good morning, Mère.”

Sharla looked up from her sewing to smile at Cassie. “Good morning. Sleep well?”

Cassie wished she hadn’t asked. It brought to mind the nightmare. “Fine,” she fibbed. Changing the subject she told her mother about Arnaud and Lucia.

“I think I’ll find someone that can help build a room onto the house. They’ll need it for the baby.” Cassie’s eyes clouds over as she remembers her own baby. Maybe once she and Whit are married, they could try again. That is if he even wants children.

Sharla watched Cassie withdraw into herself at the mention of the baby. “Cassie, did you tell Whit about the baby?”

“Non. He mustn’t ever find out.”

A loud banging on the front door interceded before they could argue about her decision. “I’ll see who it is. Stay and finish what you’re working on. We’ll talk later.” But not about that, Cassie thought.

Upon opening the front door, Cassie beholds a huge bouquet of flowers bursting with colors. “Delivery for Cassie LaRoux.”

“Bring them inside. Sit them over there on the table.” Cassie pointed to the small coffee table in front of the couch.

“Bonjour, Mademoiselle.” He handed her a card before leaving.

Cassie held her face against the flowers to breathe in their scent before opening the card.

Whit wrote: ‘My darling Cassie. I apologize for not staying long enough to make plans for our wedding. I assure you it will happen. I’m taking care of the necessary arrangements from here. I know you would like a big fancy ceremony, but if it’s all the same with you, I’d like to keep it simple. I found a small wedding chapel in a nearby parish and have made arrangements for next month. Keep this date handy, February 24th. I’ll be back next week to discuss all the details. I love you, Whit.’

Cassie held the note next to her breast. Twirling around like a little girl she couldn’t stop the flow of joy flooding her soul.

“Maman,” she cried like a little girl. “Viens ici, come here.”

Sharla ran into the room, “Quoi y a? What’s the matter?”

“I’m getting married.” Cassie hugged her, lifting her off her feet.

“Put me down, Cassie. Now tell me what’s this all about?”

Cassie pointed to the flowers. “Whit set a date for our wedding.” She held up the card with his handwritten note.

“Oh goodness, we have so much to get done. What date did he give?”

“Next month. Whit is taking care of everything. He wants it to be a simple wedding, just family. So we don’t have a lot to do. Don’t worry about.”

“Not worry? Of course I’ll worry. It’s your wedding. It should be special.”

“It will be, Maman. And I don’t need anything fancy, just you and the others. It’ll be fine.”

Sharla shook her head, and as usual mumbled something beneath her breath.

“You’ll see,” Cassie hugged her again, “it will be beautiful. Whit will see to it.”

Even though Cassie spoke those encouraging words, a little niggling doubt seeped inside her belly.

* * *

Deep in the swamps of the bayou Lafourche sat a cabin high up on stilts. The only way to get to it was by boat. Clayton hoped his guide knew where they were because he sure as hell didn’t.

His guide maneuvered the pirogue beneath the cabin to secure it to a pole at the end of a small patch of land. Clayton hoped to hell the ground would hold and he wouldn’t sink beneath the murky dark waters of the bayou.

“Are you sure,” Clayton looked around doubtfully, “that someone lives here?”

“Oui.”

Clayton didn’t think the man was very talkative, only speaking in one-syllable words since they started on this trip to God only knows where.

Suddenly a screen door slammed. Clayton hesitated, his right boot poised in the air. He gazed up the steps to find a man scowling down at him. Slowly he lowered his boot to rest against the bottom step.

The tall, slim man with weathered skin stood with feet planted firmly apart holding a mean looking rifle which he pointed right at Clayton.

“Hello. I’m looking for a Homer LaRoux.” Clayton relaxed his body to lean slightly forward in preparation of moving up the steps.

“What ya want with im.” The man said something in rapid fire Cajun to his guide who answered back just as quickly.

Clayton heard a click from the rifle. He eased back on his left boot. Then he looked at the two men. A lump formed in his throat, he felt an ugly sense of unease. He watched as the man who held the rifle began to move his finger back and forth near the trigger. He hoped to heaven the men hadn’t been talking about killing him and hiding him somewhere out in the swamps!

The man raised his rifle, pointing it back behind Clayton. “Git outta here. You no business being here.”

Clayton glanced back at their boat, then up at the man. “Are you Mr. LaRoux? I just want to talk to you about your daughter, Cassie.”

The look that passed across the man’s face told Clayton that he had the right LaRoux.

Another round of words passed between the two men before Homer LaRoux spoke to Clayton. “Dat girl tell lies ‘bout me. I nuttin to say. Foute ton quant d’ici, get away from here.”

“Could we talk for just a few minutes? I promise you, she has said nothing to me about you. She needs help.” Perhaps he made a mistake in coming here. Darkness swept across the man’s features. Clayton felt a sinking sensation in his gut. He backed away from the steps.

“Non. Go. Leave me alone.” With that the man fired his rifle, pointing it above Clayton’s head.

“Git.”

Clayton decided that would be a good idea, so he turned back toward the boat. His guide already had it untied, waiting on him.

He settled carefully inside. As the guide pushed off from the small island of land, he watched the man on the porch.

Homer LaRoux didn’t move until he could no longer see their boat.

Once the boat left his sight he went back inside his humble little shack. It suited his purpose very well. He made a living from fishing and trapping animals. He didn’t need much, nor did he want for anything.

He didn’t like someone coming into his private world disrupting the flow of his thinking with remembrance of his daughter and the others.

Now the past might become the present and he might not like where it could take him. Nor would anyone else.

* * *

Chapter Six

Thibodaux Parish, February 24, 1954

Cassie stood with Whit before the minister as they repeated their vows. Her wedding day. She should be ecstatic with happiness; instead her heart felt laden down with an unknown grief. A foreboding.

Her gift, as she called that sixth sense, gave her a feeling that didn’t sit well in her stomach. It roiled with a churning that didn’t come from eating the wrong food. Especially since she couldn’t eat this morning!

She heard Whit say ‘I do’ then the minister announced them husband and wife. Whit took her in his arms to kiss her. Again a sense of something not right washed over her. It didn’t have anything to do with Whit’s lips pressing against hers, or the fact that he held her close to his body and she could feel his arousal. No, it stemmed from something evil that wanted to intrude upon her special day and the happiness she should be experiencing.

Whit took her to New Orleans for their honeymoon. They spent three whole days touring the town while Cassie marveled at the wonders of a big city. She didn’t want it to end, but it did and Whit drove them back home, to her little house and all her family.

Sharla stood at the door to welcome the newlyweds home, a beautiful smile on her face and her arms open wide. “Cassie, vous êtes belle, you are beautiful. The honeymoon was exciting?”

Cassie hugged her mother tight. “Yes. New Orleans is so big! I wish we could have stayed longer.”

Whit brought her bags inside the house. Overhearing Cassie’s remark he stated, “There will be other trips, I promise you.” He placed his arm around her waist, bringing her to his side.

She gazed up at him, thinking to herself how lucky she is to have found him. With a heart full of love she reached up to kiss him on the cheek. “I hope so. Now, where is everyone, we have presents!”

Suddenly the whole gang came from the back, laughing and crying, exclaiming over the sacks of goodies Cassie held out. As they opened their gifts Cassie watched and wished that one day soon another little one would be welcomed home.

Whit cleared his throat to catch Cassie’s attention. “Sweetheart, I hate to break into all your fun, but I have to leave. I need to go back to Monroe.”

At the look of disappointment on Cassie’s face Whit said, “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but that is where all my business is located. There are things that I can’t handle from here. I promise I’ll be back within a couple of weeks.”

“But, Whit, we were just married. I thought you’d move here and move the business.” Cassie felt tears start to form in her eyes and scolded herself. She would not be some teary-eyed wife and whine.

“My love, if I could I would. But it’s just not possible. My father’s business is in Monroe and that’s where I have to run things.” He pulled her toward him, “I promise, I’ll be back as quickly as possible.”

Again Cassie felt a leaden weight in the pit of her stomach.

“Cassie, look at me.” Whit titled her chin so he could gaze into her eyes. “I love you.”

She felt a tear roll down her cheek. She swiped it away. “I love you, too. I’ll miss you!”

Whit leaned down to kiss her firmly on the mouth. Straightening up he looked at the others watching them and smiled. “Take care of my wife for me,” he told Arnaud.

Arnaud smiled and shook Whit’s hand. “Oui, she will be like a gator on the prowl. But, I’ll try and keep her in line!”

Cassie punched him in the arm. “Arnaud, really, I don’t need you watching over me.” But she laughed, feeling giddy that Whit wanted her protected.

“Sweetheart, I’m going to have a telephone put in the house. So we can talk. Writing letters isn’t good enough or fast enough to suit me. I’ll take care of the arrangements when I go into town.”

Cassie walked out to the automobile with Whit, took a card with his number and promised to call as soon as they installed her new telephone. She watched as he backed out of the driveway, waving at the car until it left her sight.

Turning back toward the house she noticed another automobile parked down their lane. Goose bumps popped out on her arms. The sensation that someone continued to spy on her washed over her again. Cassie strained to see if someone sat in the vehicle, but it was too far away to be certain.

She rubbed her arms as she walked back toward her house. She couldn’t help but feel a disconcerting sense of unease. Lord she hoped Whit didn’t stay long in Monroe. The sensation of a dark cloud hovering above her disturbed her sense of order. She prayed Whit would change his mind about moving the business from Monroe to New Orleans. If not, perhaps he’d move them to Monroe. Before closing the front door, she glanced back down the lane toward the parked vehicle. A slight shiver coursed down her back before she closed and locked the door.

* * *

Like a ghost the darkness seeped around the house while those inside slumbered. Mist rose from the bayou to hover above the ground slowly making its way down the narrow lane covered in clamshells. Cassie tossed and turned not wanting to face the dream. Whimpering she fought against the mist shrouding not only her mind, but dream.

A young girl, not more than eight years old, dressed in a worn cotton sheath stood boldly upon a pier. She didn’t appear to be afraid of the darkness or the rising mist as she stood with arms held out as if beckoning to the wind.

Cassie couldn’t see her face but she felt she knew the little girl. As she watched the child turned her palms up and lifted her arms higher almost in supplication to please or summon something or someone.

Suddenly the child dropped her arms and bowed her head. The mist from the bayou swirled about her legs, to creep up her small frame where it engulfed her completely.

Afraid for the little girl, Cassie tried to warn her. But the child couldn’t hear her shouting, run, run. Fear gripped Cassie. In the dream she watched as the mist began to clear. A man stood beside the little girl. He placed his hand upon her shoulder, the little girl turned, and Cassie saw her face.

A scream rent the night. Cassie bolted up in bed. Heart pounding against her chest Cassie tried to get her bearings. Before she could slow her racing heart, her door flung open.

“Cassie, quoi y a?” Her mother sat down on the bed beside her.

Cassie shook her head. “A bad dream.”

“T’es sur de sa? Are you sure about that?”

Cassie didn’t like the sound of her mother’s uncertainty. People have bad dreams. That didn’t mean there was a hidden meaning to her dream or dreams. Of course not, she’s just tired from the trip and missing her new husband. That’s all.

Her mother patted the hand atop the covers before giving Cassie a kiss goodnight. Settling back under the covers Cassie tried to push the dream out of her mind. It didn’t have to mean anything, she told herself. Just a dream, she repeated over and over until finally she began to believe it.

* * *

Homer LaRoux fought the dream that woke him from a deep slumber. The past came back to haunt him even though he’d buried it long ago. He missed Sharla and the kids, especially Cassie his oldest. Flinging back the covers he stood up and stretched his tall frame. Yawning, he turned away from the bed giving up on any sleep this night.

In the alcove that held his small kitchen he pumped water from the old spout to prepare his coffee. He didn’t require much in the way of necessities, but coffee was the one item he refused to give up. He’d given up his favorite whiskey, and even though tempted to add a little to his coffee, he quashed the feeling.

Settling down in his one and only good chair, he waited for the coffee to perk. He couldn’t get the dream out of his mind. The visit by that stranger caused some memories to resurface. He didn’t want to talk about Cassie or even know how she’s doing. Sharla, his wife, made it plain that he was never to set foot around the children again. He knew why Sharla felt that way. But Sharla was wrong to forbid him a visit. He loved Cassie. He’d never hurt her. Loving a child was not wrong. His mother loved him until the day she died. It couldn’t be wrong to love a child. He’d never hurt her, he kept telling himself.

The sounds of gurgling brought him back to the present so he got up to pour his coffee. The dream that woke him played over and over in his mind and he wondered what it meant. He’d never stood on a pier with Cassie, so why would he be dreaming he had? He didn’t have the ‘gift’ as Sharla called it. His grandmother had. She always knew things before they happened. But he’d never had dreams or any of the things that were passed down to the women in his family.

Now Sharla, she inherited the gift from her family. Plus she could interpret dreams and other things that he didn’t even want to know about. He always suspected her of being a voodoo witch, but he thought it best not to press her. She had a look about her at times that scared him. But she could put the moves on him in bed and he missed that about her.

Thinking of sex made him think of Cassie and the dream. Groaning, he rubbed himself. Maybe he should reacquaint himself with them. He continued to rub himself, feeling his shaft harden. Yes, he thought, it might be a good time to see how they are doing.

* * *

After checking on Cassie, Sharla went back to her workroom. She knew better than Cassie that the dream was more than a mere dream. Opening the closet she pulled out the box where she kept her special candles and other paraphernalia. Setting everything out she made preparations for the spell she hoped might keep them safe.

Cassie didn’t want to talk about her dream so Sharla was left with no choice but to use her own special gift to ensure the safety of her child. Sitting on the floor she folded her legs between her thighs and rested her palms on her knees. She took deep breaths, letting the air out slowly. With her eyes closed she let the quiet of the early morning seep into her bones. Picturing Cassie in her room, in bed, Sharla drifted.

* * *

Cassie told herself often throughout the month that her dream meant nothing. That the vehicle parked down the lane meant nothing and that Whit, her new husband, loved her. Even though his two weeks turned into four and still he stayed in Monroe.

She worked every day at the Jolly Café and loved doing so. The telephone Whit ordered got installed so they talked every day. She missed him, missed holding him and loving him. Then the dreams started to come most every night. She refused to talk about them, not wanting to know if they foretold of something dark and ugly about to happen. She refused to accept that she inherited her mother’s other ‘gift’. Premonitions were one thing, but foretelling the future through dreams, well that she didn’t want to have. She didn’t have to know the future; she could live one day at a time and be happy with that.

Perhaps she could live that way except for the feeling that someone continued to watch her. She didn’t see the person but the feeling of always being spied on persisted. It grew and grew until she wanted to scream. At night when she walked home, she made sure never to be alone. Arnaud and Lucia walked with her. However, the dreams kept coming. She couldn’t stop them even though she tried.



Sharla watched and prayed. Cassie refused to speak of the dreams. She didn’t blame her for that. She’d fought the ‘gift’ at one time as well. For some reason their special gift came into being once they reached a certain age. For Sharla it happened when she turned sixteen. With Cassie it seemed to happen when she turned nineteen. Sharla couldn’t remember when it came upon her own mother. She couldn’t recall ever being told by her mother if there is an exact moment when it comes to them. Regardless of how or when, it happens to all the women in their family. So be it. Accept it, embrace it, and learn from it. That’s her motto. Of course Cassie probably doesn’t feel that way right now.

Sharla watched Cassie struggle with the dreams; she comforted her when her screams rent the night. But she didn’t try to pry out of Cassie what they consisted of, nor did she try to explain their gift. Cassie would need to come to her when she felt ready to embrace the gift passed down to them through generations.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Monroe, La

Whit lay in bed thinking about Cassie while his wife, Dora, slept beside him. How in the hell did he get himself in this mess? His father-in-law kept harping about a grandchild, Dora nagged about the trips out of town, and all he wanted was to be with Cassie.

He gave up on sleep. Throwing back the sheet he rose and padded on bare feet down the hall to the kitchen. He’d make some coffee, and take it into his office where he could call Cassie. He normally called her from the downtown office, where he could talk without worrying about being overheard. But he needed to hear her voice. He needed to feel her skin beneath his hands as he traced each delicate curve with his fingertips. God, how he wanted her!

Frustrated with the situation of his life, he rubbed his hands over his face. Shaking his head to clear his train of thought, he took down a coffee mug to prepare his drink. He wanted to blame everything on his father-in-law, but he knew he couldn’t. Sam didn’t make him marry Cassie. Sam forced his hand with Dora, or rather his own father saw to that, but he only had himself to blame for the state of affairs with Cassie. And God help him, he didn’t want Cassie to find out the truth.

His coffee cup in one hand, he settled down at the desk in his office and picked up the telephone. With baited breath he waited for Cassie to pick up.



Cassie couldn’t sleep because of the dream, so she got up and made herself a warm glass of milk. Something Sharla did for her when as a child she couldn’t sleep. As Cassie prepared to go back to her room, she heard the jingle-jangle of the telephone.

Who would call this late at night? “Oui?” she asked.

Whit let out a sigh. “Cassie, my love. I needed to hear your voice.”

“Whit! Is something wrong? Are you all right?” Because he never calls this time of night, Cassie worried that something might be amiss.

“Darling, I’m fine. God, Cassie, I miss you. I wanted to tell you I’m coming down this weekend. I need you!” His voice deepened. The anticipation of being with Cassie made him shiver with need.

She tingled from head to foot. “Oui! I need you too!”

“Dream of me holding you, kissing you, and making love to you until I get there Saturday.” Whit hung up the phone. Thoughts of Cassie always gave him a hard-on, so he sat back in his comfortable leather chair, slipped his hand beneath the waistband of his pajama bottoms to deal with the desire flowing into his penis.

On the other side of his closed office door stood Dora with her ear pressed against the wood panel. She strained to hear what Whit was saying to no avail. So she turned the knob hoping Whit couldn’t hear the sound as the latch gave way.

Dora watched as Whit hung up the phone. She missed out on hearing his conversation. Oh well, she thought, it’s probably for the best. She started to turn away when she noticed the look on his face.

Curious, Dora watched as Whit reached down to caress himself. Her eyes widened in shock. What’s he doing, she asked herself. In disbelief she looked on as he continued to massage his penis until he groaned, then relaxed. Oh my! Fascinated, she couldn’t back away as he brought his hand to his mouth, and… Oh Lord, now she couldn’t watch. Holding her hand over her own mouth to keep from crying out, she fled back to their room.

Dora pulled herself into a tight ball beneath the covers. What possessed Whit to behave that way? She never touched him there! She couldn’t bring herself to look at him there! Shivering, she wondered what else he did when she wasn’t around. Did other women touch men there? No, of course not! Only those women of the night did things like that. Husbands come to their wives for one purpose, to make babies. That’s what her mother taught her. Ugh! She wanted to forget the look of pleasure on Whit’s face when his seed spewed into his hand.

As Dora tried to forget the scene she witnessed, she allowed a smidgen of doubt to creep into her brain. Perhaps her mother was wrong. Then as sleep overcame her, she let herself wonder who aroused Whit so much he’d want to behave in that manner.

* * *

Near Houma, La.

Homer camped in the woods near Cassie’s house. He now watched the coming and goings on a regular basis. He figured out the dream that made him come here meant that Cassie had come into her gift. And with that she might be remembering things that were better left buried. For her to recall a childhood incident could mean jail time or worse for him. He could not allow that to happen. So he came up with a plan, not the best of plans, but for the time being it was all he could think of. Anything that might cause Cassie to forget the past would put him one step ahead of the law.



Cassie left for her shift at the Jolly Café whistling a tune beneath her breath. Tomorrow. One more day till Whit arrived. Walking down the lane she kicked clamshells as she made her way to work. She didn’t pay attention to anything and when someone grabbed her from behind she started to scream.

A rough hand clamped over her mouth preventing the scream from bursting out. She began to struggle against the arm that tightened around her waist even as the person dragged her into the woods. All kinds of thoughts raced through her head as she kicked and struggled to no avail.

Then a low, menacing voice whispered in her ear to be still. The voice sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it. She tried to see the attacker over her shoulder, but all she saw was a cloth with two holes for eyes.

He continued to drag her deeper into the woods, and Cassie’s fear began to escalate. How could she fight off the strong arms that held her? She couldn’t even scream because he’d taken a smelly cloth and stuffed it into her mouth.

From out of the distance Cassie thought she heard someone running toward them. She began to hope that her cousin might be coming to her aid. Suddenly the arms holding her let go. She staggered to the ground.

Cassie saw two men fighting, then her rescuer shouted for her to run. She wasted no time in doing just that. When she flew out of the woods onto the lane, she didn’t stop until she reached the Jolly Café.



Back in the woods the two men fought until a sucker punch to the groin caught Clayton off guard. He staggered back which made it easier for Homer to send a right fist to his jaw. Clayton fell backwards affording Homer the opportunity to get away.

Clayton sat for moment on the ground with one hand rubbing his jaw, the other massaging his balls. Damnation. He should have seen that coming. Homer’s lanky frame exhibited more strength than Clayton expected him to have. He supposed wrestling with live alligators and other creatures of the bayou might give someone an advantage in honing their strength. The man didn’t look that strong which in the end became a disadvantage for Clayton.

Finally he lifted himself up. Still rubbing his sore jaw he made his way back to his parked vehicle. Good thing he decided to check on Cassie before her so-called husband arrived. He’d been thinking about her situation and his visit with Homer when a sudden urge to see for himself that all of them were safe came over him.

He discussed with his wife the concerns he felt for Cassie. She agreed that he should come and see for himself that all was well. Sam Long still retained his services, therefore he knew of Whit’s intention of arriving on Saturday, so he came the day before. And it’s a damn good thing he told himself, that he did.

Clayton arrived at the Jolly Café shortly thereafter where he joined a lively bunch at one of the long wooden tables. The café boasted a family-style atmosphere, where you either met and greeted your neighbor, or sat alone at the end of a long table. He preferred meet and greet, so he introduced himself as he joined a boisterous group.

He saw Cassie, who looked a little frazzled, but with no outward bruises. She noticed him, shot him a searching glance before attending to the other table. His waitress, Lucia, who he recognized as being the new wife to Arnaud, took his order then brought him a tall glass of ice tea.

Clayton enjoyed his meal while keeping an occasional eye on Cassie. He meant to speak with her, yet didn’t know for certain what he’d say. He couldn’t tell her the truth, even though tempted. He couldn’t bring himself to hurt her that way. He hoped that whatever Whit Blalock planned in the end Cassie would come out of it unscathed. Yet, he doubted that could happen.

Cassie recognized the man as her rescuer. She couldn’t be certain that he’s the same man who sat parked down the lane watching her house, but she knew he saved her this afternoon. She’d make time to thank him before her shift ended.

Clayton finished his meal and continued to sit sipping his tea. He ordered a beer while the musicians prepared their instruments. He enjoyed the Cajun music, mingled in with Zydeco sounds it made for good entertainment. So he’d sit back and enjoy it for a while.

Cassie sat the beer on the table. He looked up to find her staring at his face. He scraped back his chair to stand up.

“Hello. Thanks for the beer.”

Cassie sized him up. Around six feet, broad shoulders, lean frame, not bulky, a couple of grass stains on the front of his shirt. She figured that happened from the tussle with her would-be abductor.

Smiling Cassie held out her hand. “Cassie Blalock. I wanted to thank you for this afternoon.”

Clayton accepted her handshake. “Glad I happened along when I did.”

Cassie hadn’t told anyone about the incident, she shushed him. “Shh please, don’t speak of it.” She said as she looked about to ensure that no one paid them any attention. She continued, “Thank you. Please keep it between us. I don’t want anyone to know.”

“Of course. Anything you wish. I hope you don’t walk alone from now on.”

“I won’t.” Cassie gathered up his empty beer glass. “Thank you again. Oh, I didn’t get your name.”

“Clayton Grimes, from Monroe.”

“Monroe?” A ball of lead seemed to drop in the pit of her stomach. “Monroe?” she repeated.

“Yes.” Now what possessed him to divulge where he’s from? He could kick himself.

Cassie swallowed a lump in her throat. “My husband is from Monroe. Perhaps you may know of him, Whit Blalock?”

“Can’t say that I do.”

“He’ll be here tomorrow. I’m sure he’d like to meet you since you’re both from the same town.”

“Unfortunately, my schedule won’t allow me time to linger. Maybe next time I’m in town.” Clayton finished off his beer. This was getting a little too friendly. “Sorry, I’m about to be late for an appointment. It’s nice meeting you, even though the circumstances weren’t the best. I’m glad you seem all right.”

Cassie shook his hand. “Thank you. Come visit us again.” She smiled as he made his way to the front to pay for his meal. The smile left her face when he turned back to give her one long, worried glance. Then he left with his shoulders hunched down, his strange little hat plopped on his head.

That night after closing, Cassie, Lucia, and Arnaud made their way home. The clear skies overhead didn’t bring a premonition of things to come. The three chatted together about plans for the arrival of the baby, while Cassie kept her ordeal secret. She felt no need to burden them with her worries.

* * *

CHAPTER EIGHT

Homer hid deep in the woods until he could be sure he wasn’t followed. He didn’t know why that man had been near Cassie’s home, but he’d certainly come to her rescue. He spewed out a few Cajun slang words, wiped the spittle from the corner of his mouth.

What, he asked himself, did he intend to do with Cassie if he succeeded in abducting her? Knock her senseless, hoping she’d forget the past once and for all? Not likely, he told himself. He threw out a few more cuss words.

On the other hand, maybe if he reminded Cassie of what they once shared she’d come home with him where she belonged. He should never have let Sharla kick him out. Sharla accused him of hurting Cassie. He’d never hurt her. He loved her. Oui, he told himself, yes, Cassie could live with him. She needed a reminder of that. Then she’d willingly come stay with him.

Determined that his thoughts on the subject were settled, he made his way back to his campsite. A few more nights then he’d make his appearance. Once he spoke with her, she’d see things his way. He should never have let Sharla roust him from his home.



The dream came again. Darkness shattered by lightening. Rain pelted over the child as she stood at the edge of the pier. Long auburn hair cascaded down her back. The rain sluiced over her thin shoulders to fall in rivulets at her feet to eventually end up in the dark waters of the bayou.

Cassie couldn’t see her face yet she knew the child cried. Her own heart broke into as she watched the child shiver. Cassie felt a kindred spirit to the young girl. As if she was the child standing there.

From out of the darkness Cassie heard a man’s voice. A voice that sounded so familiar, one she wanted to forget forever. The child wrapped her arms about her waist as the voice came closer.

Suddenly Cassie cried out, “Don’t.” But the child couldn’t hear her cries. Cassie flounced out of bed to run to the child. But where should she go? Where could the child be? Crying, Cassie ran to her mother’s room where she flung open the door.

Awake and ready, Sharla held out her arms. Cassie swooped down on the bed to press her head against her mother’s shoulder.

“Hush, my daughter, hush. You are safe.” Sharla whispered soothing words to Cassie while the tears flowed. It’s time, Sharla thought. It’s time.

Cassie didn’t know if the child jumped into the brackish waters or if the man pushed her. She knew one thing with certainty: She is that child.

Sharla held Cassie until the tears stopped. “Lie down. I’ll make us some warm milk. We’ll talk.”

Cassie didn’t see how talking could help, but she guessed her mother knew more about these things than she did.

A short time later a warm cup was handed to Cassie. “Here, drink this.” Sharla said before she pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down.

“In my family the ability to see the future of sorts, comes to us in our dreams. Sometimes through past memories or happenings, sometimes we see things that will happen. But always it comes to us when the women in our family reach certain maturity. That age can differ from generation to generation. You already experience the gift; this next step is an extension of the gift.”

“I don’t want it.” Cassie gulped her milk, scorching her tongue.

“We have no choice. It can be a curse at times. You can learn to control it, by controlling your thoughts, emotions.”

“How do I learn to interpret the dreams?”

“By centering your thoughts on the most important part of the dream, then focus to expand the dream out. You’ll be able to zoom in and outward at will. It helps to ‘read’ what’s happening in the dream and from that you’ll be able to discern what might possibly happen.”

“Non! It’s too hard. I don’t want to know. I want it to stop!” Cassie felt tears flow from her eyes. No way she wanted this ‘gift’, or rather curse.

Sharla continued to console Cassie until she calmed down. Removing the cup from Cassie’s hand, Sharla tucked her beneath the covers then sat in the chair by the bed to watch over Cassie as she slept. She hoped there would be enough time for Cassie to grow in spirit to combat the darkness, before it could consume her.

* * *

Monroe, La.

Whit strode into the kitchen where Dora stood making a pot of coffee. “Good you’re up. I’ll be gone for a while. The government contract we wanted came through so we’ll be starting on the boats for the Navy. I need to get the details worked out and make sure my foreman does his job. I expect to be gone at least a month, possibly longer.”

“Oh. Why don’t I come with you? There isn’t anything I need to do here or that can’t wait until we get back.” Hopeful, Dora looked up at Whit with her big, brown eyes.

Whit almost felt sorry for her. Her dark eyes, mousy hair, and plain features did not attract him or endear her to him. Yet, she looked so hopeful that it got to him. He shook off the feeling. Cassie is the one he wants, and Whit always gets what he wants.

“It wouldn’t be any fun for you. You’d be bored to death!” Whit poured himself some coffee, turning his back on her disappointment.

“Will you at least call home every night? I get lonely in this big old house.”

“I’ll try, but don’t count on it. If it’s late when I finish up at the plant, I won’t call. I’ll check in with you at least once a week.” He promised reluctantly.

He gulped down his coffee wanting to make a fast get away. The sooner he got to Cassie the better he’d feel. He needed to make sure she’s fine, that all is well. For some reason he felt an urgent need to get to south Louisiana.

Later as the urgency to get to Cassie increased, he had to force himself not to drive over the speed limit. He didn’t want to get pulled over and detained. The stops he made along the way were few and quick. Still it took most of the day and into the evening before he reached his destination.

* * *

Cassie took the night off in anticipation of spending it with her husband. As she dusted powder sugar over the light and fluffy pastry, she smiled when she thought of Whit and his delight in discovering he too enjoyed her favorite treat.

Concentrating on her task she didn’t hear the knock at the front door. So when a voice called out her name she jumped in surprise. Hurriedly wiping her hands she streaked into the front room. “Whit.” She flung herself into his arms.

Whit latched onto her as a drowning man held onto a life raft. Laughing, he let her smother him in kisses until he sat her down to grab her face between his big hands. “My love,” he whispered before capturing her mouth with his. Groaning, he drank her nectar as their tongues frolicked and their hands explored each other.

“Cassie, who’s at the door?” Sharla came into the room to find the two of them entwined. “Oh! Whit you’ve returned.”

Cassie, first to break their contact, said, “Yes. My prodigal husband has returned.” Smiling at her mother she said, “He takes his work much too seriously, I think.” She teased him giving him a playful slap on the arm.

“Sharla, how are you?” Whit pulled Cassie back within his embrace. “How are all the children?”

“Everyone’s fine. Merci. And you?”

She gave him a knowing look, but it couldn’t mean what he thought. There isn’t any way for her to have learned the truth he hid from them all! “Fine. Just glad to be home with my girl! And starved, I didn’t stop to eat.”

Cassie extracted herself saying, “I’ve got just the thing. Would you like some coffee?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Come to the kitchen I’ve prepared a surprise for you!” Cassie led the way.

As they sat around the table Cassie felt contentment wash over her. This is her family. Her home. Her husband. It should be this way all the time. Soon the kitchen filled as the others, all clamoring to tell Whit about something, joined them at the table.

Cassie sipped her coffee while Whit massaged the hand he held. Contented she closed her eyes as he continued to rub her hand. She let the chatter of the others ebb around her as she sat beside Whit.

All of a sudden she felt like she’d been catapulted away. She could barely see the others in the distance. She turned as if on a revolving floor. Another scene came into view.

A woman stood alone on the back porch of a house. She stared into the distance while tears dripped from her eyes. Cassie didn’t know the woman, but her heart went out to her. Perhaps she’s mourning the loss of a loved one, Cassie thought.

The woman turned to go into the house. Cassie sucked in her breath. She’s with child. Not by much, but Cassie couldn’t mistake that roundness for anything else. Besides, the woman held onto her stomach as if it would drop any minute.

Cassie heard her name being called bringing her back to the present. Whit shook her shoulders to draw her back to them.

“Please stop shaking me.”

“Sorry love. It was like you’d left us for a moment. It scared me!”

Sharla, with one eyebrow quirked gave Cassie an inquiring glance. Cassie patted Whit’s hand that rested on her shoulder. “Please, sit down. I’m fine. Just day dreaming. I’m so glad you’re home. I’ve thought about all the things we can do together.” She averted the conversation away from what happened to keep him from asking any questions.

Even though Whit laughed along with Cassie, he was a little bit uneasy. He didn’t feel comforted after seeing the glance between the two women. “It’s late. It was a long trip and I’m tired. Why don’t we turn in for the night?” He stood up, took his cup and plate to the sink before taking Cassie in his arms.

“Whata you say, sweetheart? Bed?” Whit nuzzled her ear, taking a little tasty bite.

“Yes, I’m tired too.” Cassie turned to her mother, shaking her head to indicate that later they could talk. Tonight she wanted to concentrate on her husband.

“Goodnight you two.” Sharla put the rest of the dishes in the sink to wash tomorrow. Tonight she had work to do. Sharla rounded up the kids shooing them to their beds. Afterwards, she prepared herself for her own little ritual.

Cassie followed Whit into their bedroom, making sure to lock the door behind her. “Come here.” Whit said, opening his arms to her.

Cassie stepped into his embrace burrowing her face in his shoulder. She took a moment to breathe in his scent before raising her lips for his kiss.

Whit kissed her thoroughly. He took little nips down the column of her throat to where her pulse beat at the base. He trailed tiny kisses back up to capture her lips once more.

“Sweetheart,” he groused in her ear, “you’re killing me. There are too many clothes between us!” He couldn’t wait to find the tiny buttons down the front of her dress. He grabbed hold and tore the garment down the middle.

“Oh!”

“Sorry, sweetheart, I’ll buy you a new one.” Whit cupped her breast in his hands. He bent his head to nibble an areola through the barrier of her brassiere. Frustrated, he removed the garment to bathe them with kisses. As he suckled on one until it became a hard nub, his fingers worked on the other.

Cassie surrendered herself to his lovemaking. She burned with desire. From the top of her head to her toes she felt the heat. Her body yearned to be taken by Whit. She missed him so much. Missed his body pressed against hers, missed the feel of his sex pushing inside her.

Whit picked her up to lay her gently upon the bed. For a moment he stood over her to stare at her nakedness. Then he bent down, captured her mouth as his hands worked to release himself.

She felt the pressure of his member nudging her legs apart. She complied. Opening like a flower to receive the sun, she spread her legs wide. As he slid himself into her, she wrapped her legs about his waist, hitching herself higher and closer until he thrust completely inside her.

She felt such power when he joined their bodies. Did it have something to do with her ‘gift’, or just the fact that she loved Whit and he loved her? Who cares, she thought as he rode her. Thrusting in, pulling out he taunted her body to the point of no return. Wave after wave hit her. She cried out. His groan mingled with her cry as they tumbled together over the edge.

* * *

She shouldn’t be giving herself to that man the way she is, Homer thought. She belongs to him. Always has. From the day Sharla brought her home, Cassie belonged to him. She needed to be reminded of that. He shouldn’t have stayed away so long. That witch wife of his shouldn’t have made all those accusations about him either.

Homer moved away from the window. He couldn’t run the risk of being caught peeking. But he wouldn’t let Cassie get away with giving what is rightfully his to some other man! Cassie would have to be punished for her actions. He’d see to that soon enough.

Moving back into the shadows, Homer made his way back to the pier where his pirogue waited. He’d be back. Cassie needed to learn a lesson. If it hadn’t been for that man visiting him, he’d probably stayed away for good. He’d fought the yearnings since Sharla made him leave. Threatened his life, she did. Damn witch! She’d put a spell on him that caused his dick to go limp. Until Cassie’s name crossed the mouth of that man. Now he remembers everything. Especially how Cassie felt when he touched her. He’d be back, he told himself as he rowed out to his shack deep in marshes. He’d be back. Soon.

* * *

CHAPTER NINE

One month later, Monroe, La.

Earlier in the week Dora left the doctor’s office filled with happiness. She’s with child again. Hopefully this time she’d be able to make it full term. She planned to do everything the doctor said including a lot of bed rest! She couldn’t wait to tell Whit. He should be home soon so she planned to prepare his favorite meal.

After she put the groceries away, Dora went onto the back porch to gaze into the distance. She loved her home. It sat on a large piece of acreage that butted up to the bayou. She wanted Whit to build them a pier, but he couldn’t find the time.

She went down the back steps to walk through her garden. Dora loved flowers of all kinds so she planted a multitude of them. She also grew her own vegetables, or at least some of them. Bending down she started to pull up weeds when a sharp pain pierced her stomach.

Clutching her middle, she bent double crying out. No, God no, she begged. Not again. The cramp started out small, but grew to consume her whole being. She fell to her knees as tears rained down her face. After the spasm ended she picked herself up to make her way back to the house.

On the porch she turned to gaze back at the spot where it happened. Tears running down her face she turned to go back inside the house. The warmth between her legs could not be mistaken. Once again she’d lost her baby. She didn’t have the strength to call for help. She barely made it to the front room where she lay down on the couch to curl into a tight ball.

Whit arrived a few hours later to find Dora comatose in the front room. He noticed her blood soaked garment and didn’t waste any time in calling for help.

Later at the hospital the doctor confirmed that indeed she’d miscarried. He also warned Whit that she should not try to have any more children. Next time might be fatal for her.

Much later when Dora awoke in a hospital bed, she saw Whit sitting in a chair near her bed. “Whit?” she didn’t need to say more, he knew what she wanted to know.

Rising he came over to the bed. Taking her hand between his, he patted it while shaking his head. “I’m sorry.”

Dora turned her face away while her shoulders shook violently as she tried to hold back the tears. “I’m sorry. I know how much you wanted children. The doctor says you mustn’t try again. It could be fatal for you.”

About that time Sam Long, Dora’s father, walked into the room. He heard what Whit said and agreed. “Dora, honey, you can’t take the risk again. Please, I don’t want anything to happen to my little girl.” Sam patted her shoulder.

“Oh daddy! I’m such a failure!”

“Now, now, honey. Don’t say such things. You are not a failure! Sometimes God has other ideas.”

His words didn’t relieve her pain, but Dora stopped shaking. Tears continued to roll down her cheeks. “I’d like to be alone for a while, if you don’t mind?” She said to them both.

“Sure, honey,” said her father.

Whit patted her on the arm as he added, “I’ll be back in the morning. The doctor said you could go home tomorrow.”

Sam watched the interplay not liking it one iota. “Whit, if you’ll wait in the hall for me, I’d like to discuss your trip.”

“Of course.” Damn, he thought, what did the old man want now?

Sam joined him in the hall. Whit knew he was not going to like this conversation. Sam’s face turned beet red.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? Treating my daughter like she means nothing to you?”

Whit backed up a step. “What are you talking about? I’ve done nothing wrong. Didn’t I bring her right to the hospital? Haven’t I stayed here all night, sleeping in a damn uncomfortable chair?”

Their voices began to rise where others were noticing. A nurse came down the hall with a grim expression. “Gentleman, please, either lower your voices or take your business outside. But do not disturb our patients!” She pointed toward the exit door.

Whit started to walk away when Sam clamped a hand on his arm. “You listen here, you either treat my daughter with more respect, or I’ll see to it that you lose everything.” Then Sam marched off without giving Whit an opportunity to rebut.

Whit stormed out as well, thinking he’d just about had enough of the Longs’. Perhaps he should visit his father’s lawyer, Simon Brackenridge, to see if there was anything he can do to protect his assets.

Some time later, Whit left the attorney’s office an unhappy man. His hands were tied in a manner of speaking. Thanks to his own father. He didn’t have a choice but to stay with Dora. Damn. He hated feeling useless. He felt like a puppet, Sam Long’s puppet!

He’d have to finagle a way to see Cassie. Perhaps he should move her to Monroe? There might be a way to keep everyone happy after all.

The next day Whit brought Dora home to make her comfortable in their room. “Is there anything else you need?” he asked her after fluffing up some pillows for her.

Her eyes were red and swollen as she turned her face toward him. Holding out her hand to him she said, “I am sorry.”

He took the proffered hand, feeling somewhat remorse under the circumstances. Patting it he said, “You have nothing to be sorry about. Some women have problems carrying a child. Just get yourself better, and don’t worry about what can’t be.”

To be honest with himself, he didn’t want her to have his child. He didn’t love her. He certainly couldn’t see raising a child with her.

She started to cry more, so to ease her mind somewhat he said, “Look if it means that much to you, we can adopt.” Damn, why’d he go and commit to that?

Hope filled her eyes. “Whit, you mean it? You promise me? I so wanted a child.”

Damn again. “When you’re feeling better we’ll discuss it. For now, just follow the doctor’s orders to get well. In fact, I’ll see about hiring a housekeeper to help out, so you can get better faster.”

“Oh, Whit, you don’t need to go to that trouble. I’ll be fine.”

“No trouble. This house is too big for one person to take care of anyway. I’ll see to it.” With that he dropped her hand back on the bed and left the room.

Of course he cursed himself to Sunday and back again. What kind of fool is he? He’d have to check into adoption sooner or later. She would not let that one go. Once she tells daddy, it’ll be written in stone.

Could life get any worse, he asked himself?

* * *

Near Houma, La.

Sharla knelt in the backyard to pull weeds and plant some flowers in her little garden. A crawling sensation began to snake its way up her arms. From the corner of her eyes she caught a movement. The kids are in school; Cassie, Lucia, and Arnaud are at work, which meant someone else encroached upon her solitude.

Rising, she turned to find Homer, her husband, standing at the edge of the yard. She slung a few unbecoming Cajun words at him before she reached where he stood. “Quoi tu veux?” Her fist rested on her hips, her eyes flashed daggers if that were possible, as she faced him.

The exchange between them happened in rapid fire Cajun. Neither backed down from slinging cuss words at each other. Exhausted with the dialogue Sharla told him, “Non! Do not bother us. Leave Cassie alone, or else!”

“Witch! Dat is enough! She belongs to me not that so-called husband of hers!”

Sharla looked him up and down before staring into his eyes. “Oui? You think so? Do you not remember what happened before?” Her eyes dropped below his beltline for emphasis.

Self-preservation caused him to grab at his groin. “I’ll tell her the truth. Then she’ll be mine! You old witch.”

“The truth? You don know the truth. The truth is she is your daughter. You’re a sick old man. Go. Leave us alone!”

“Non! You lie! She is not my flesh and blood!”

Sharla stopped, turned back around. “Oui, yes she is yours. Why do you think differently?”

Homer quit ranting at Sharla to take a good look at her face. He saw her left eyebrow raised, her eyes darkened, and a somewhat bemused expression on her face. “Before my maman passed away she told me the truth. You were with child when we married. If it was a girl, I should treat her as my own. Just like maman treated me.”

Oh God. That explains everything Homer did. His mother mistreated him. Made him believe it was all right. Why had she not used her ‘gift’ to seek out the truth years ago? Blind to the truth when it hits so close to home, she had only herself to blame for that one. She prayed he hadn’t hurt the other children.

“Listen to me Homer. I speak the truth. She is your flesh and blood. What you did when she was a child was wrong. Did you hurt the other children?”

“Non!” Tears flowed from his eyes. He looked wounded. It couldn’t be true, but the look on Sharla’s face convinced him. “Dieu, what have I done? Tell Cassie I’m sorry.”

“Homer, you need help.” Sharla reached out toward him but he shook her off.

“Non. It is too late. I’ll go.” He left Sharla standing amidst her flowers, realizing that what his maman taught him had been wrong.

Sharla watched him leave then hurried inside the house. She needed to prepare a little something to help ensure that Homer could keep his word. Just a little help from the Gods would be in order. Cassie didn’t need to know about his visit, or remember the past. Perhaps a little something special in her milk tonight might be in order as well.

* * *

That night when Cassie dreamed she reached out with her mind to the little girl. She stood beside her on the pier gazing into the murky bayou. “Why do you come to me in dreams?” Cassie asked her.

The girl turned to look up at her.

Cassie shucked in her breath, her eyes widened because she stared at herself. The girl turned back toward the water.

“It’s time to know the truth. To remember, then accept the gift you’ve been granted.”

“Gift? You mean curse?” Cassie said to the girl.

“Oui, it can be at times.”

“What truth do you speak of?” Cassie thought to take back the question because not knowing may be easier.

“Your father.”

“Father? You mean Homer who ran out on all of us. I do not consider him my father.”

“Oui. There is a reason why he left. You must let yourself remember. Face the truth and learn to forgive to set yourself free. Then use your gift to help others.” The little girl turned to look up at Cassie before fading into the mist.

Cassie shouted wait but the child was gone. With nowhere else to go, Cassie drifts in her dream world. To the past to when she was that little girl…

She needed to relieve herself so she went to the outhouse. Her father built it so they could have privacy when the need arose. She didn’t think to knock but flung open the door.

“Cassie!” Her father stood there with his pants around his knees holding his thingy between his hands.

Stunned, Cassie just stood there. She didn’t know whether to look or run. Frozen in place her eyes widened as she noticed his hand began to move. It grew! Could that be happening? How did it do that?

Even in her dream state Cassie couldn’t move as the scene played out before her. She watched in horror as her father pulled the little girl closer inside the small confined space.

“Da you see dat? Dat’s what you do to me, little girl.”

She watched in horror as her father stroked himself. As if it were happening to her all over again, she watched in abject fear for what might come next. Thankfully, before her father could do anything else, she heard her mother calling out her name.

Sharla flung the door open pulling Cassie out. She called her father all kinds of names. Somehow her father convinced her mother she needed to pee. Her mother appeared to believe him.

Then she fast-forwarded to when she turned ten. She saw herself as her father tucked her in for the night. She heard his voice as he told her a story about some alligator; she saw how they laughed together. Then the atmosphere changed when he leaned down to kiss the child goodnight. Cassie felt her gut tighten even as she floated above them. He kissed the child on the mouth!

From her elevated position, she could actually see how the kiss affected her father. She saw his growing desire and now that she’s married she understands the meaning of that. God, no, she thought. I don’t want to see anymore. It must be a lie! The dream must be wrong, she didn’t recall that happening. How could she be seeing the past if it hadn’t really happened?

Once again she seemed to move through time. Her father lay beside her in bed. She saw herself scrunch beneath the covers as his hand slid across her stomach. Oh God! She couldn’t watch anymore. No, please she shouted in her mind. Don’t let it be true!

The truth hit her so hard it jerked her out of her dream-like state. Cassie stuffed the covers in her mouth to muffle her cry. How could her father do that to her? Where is my husband, she asked herself, when I need him so much?

* * *

CHAPTER TEN

The next morning Cassie confronted her mother. “Last night my dream showed me what my father did when I was a child. Is it really true?” Cassie turned her mother to face her, took her hands between hers. She searched her mother’s face.

“Oui. He is a sick man. Do not let it ruin what you have become.”

Cassie dropped her mother’s hands to turn away. She couldn’t stand looking at her mother.

“Cassie, my sweet.” Sharla reached out to touch her cheek, to push back the hair draped over Cassie’s face.

Cassie pulled back. “Non! You let it happen! You did nothing to stop that monster from abusing me!”

“No! That’s not true. I didn’t know at first. Not until you turned fifteen. Then I forced him to leave.” Sharla couldn’t admit to Cassie that she blinded her ‘gift’ from revealing the truth because she didn’t want to face it herself.

Cassie wanted to believe her mother, but how could her mother not know what was happening in her own home.

Sharla tried again to touch Cassie, but she pulled away. “Cassie, I will not make excuses. I’m your mother. I should have noticed something wrong. I didn’t. Not until you became a teenager. I am deeply ashamed.”

Cassie heard the truth in her mother’s voice. She couldn’t blame her for everything. She worked to provide for them even when her father lived at home. Cassie felt her eyes sting from trying to keep the tears at bay. They rolled down her cheeks, her shoulders began to shake, soon tremors coursed through her body. She couldn’t stop shaking.

Sharla again reached out to hold Cassie. This time Cassie turned into her embrace. Sharla held her tight within her embrace. “Cassie, sweet Cassie. Sa me fait de la pain. I’m sorry.” Sharla kept repeating over and over.

Finally the dam went dry. Cassie wiped her face with the cloth her mother handed her. “Where is he now?” Cassie wanted to know. Maybe she thought to confront him with the truth.

“He lives down around Bayou Lafourche somewhere. I’ve never been there and don’t intend to go! And chère, don’t even think about trying to go there yourself!”

Cassie busied herself at the sink. What good could come out of confronting her father? “Don’t worry. I hope I never set eyes on him again.”

“Good. Leave it that way.” Sharla helped Cassie prepare breakfast then saw that all the children left for school.

Closing the door after the last child ran down the steps, Sharla went back to the kitchen to clean up.

Cassie stood at the back door looking out at her mother’s garden. “It’s so peaceful here. I love our little home even though I miss Whit. I love being here.” Cassie wrapped her arms about her waist wondering how she could come to grips with the knowledge of what her father had done to her. How would it affect her relationship with Whit? Would the past start to erode the joy she felt when Whit made love to her? God, she prayed, don’t let the past ruin what I feel for my husband.

Sharla stood beside Cassie with her arm about her waist. “Oui, me too.”

Cassie grabbed her mother’s hand to hold it tight against her waist. “Can the dreams that come to us be changed? I mean if they foretell the future, then we can change the future?”

“Sometimes by knowing in advance that something will happen, we can choose a different path to travel. It doesn’t always work. Some things are just meant. Why?”

“I’ve been having a dream about a woman I’ve never met. How does that happen? If I’ve never met the person, how can I dream about them?”

Well, this is something Sharla didn’t expect. “When did it happen?”

“The day Whit came home. As we were all sitting around the table chatting, I blanked out.”

“Ahhh.” Sharla let out a heavy sigh.

“What does it mean?”

“It seems you may have the gift of touch.”

Cassie usually didn’t swear but if she inherited another damn ‘gift’ then she would swear.

“Cassie Angelica, watch your tongue!”

“How many more of these ‘gift’s’ will I be inheriting?”

“Oh that probably covers them all.”

“So what is this gift of touch?” It couldn’t be that bad, could it?

“It won’t happen all the time, but occasionally when you touch someone, usually the hands, you might see into their future. Or that of someone close to them.”

A gust of wind blew open the screen door. Cassie went to latch it before it came off its hinges. Dark clouds moved across the sky sending chills down Cassie’s spine. Now she needs to figure out who she touched, who the woman is she keeps seeing, and for god sake why? Another gust of wind whistled through the screen door, chilling Cassie.

* * *

Monroe, La.

Sam Long paced back and forth across the floor at Grimes Detective Agency. “Damnation man, why won’t you stay on the case?” he demanded to know, his face turning red with anger.

Clayton Grimes decided he’d seen enough to know that Whit Blalock needed to be castrated. The man committed the most atrocious sin. The only other sin he could think that would be worse would be that of killing another human being. And if Ms. LaRoux knew what Clayton knew, there probably would be bloodshed.

“Mr. Long, you are not my only client. Frankly I’d like to spend more time with my wife. It’s been impossible to do so with all this traveling back and forth.”

Sam ran thick knobby fingers through his thinning hair. “Fine. Could you recommend someone?”

“Certainly.” Clayton wrote down a number for him. “He’s in New Orleans. I looked him up the last time I went down. I mentioned you might call him.”

“Good. Then we’re square?” Sam held out his hand, “I’ll keep you in mind if your services are needed again.”

Clayton shook his proffered hand. “Mr. Long, for both our sakes, I hope in this particular aspect they’re not needed.” Clayton closed the door as Sam walked into the hall.

He wiped his hand down the front of his shirt. He felt dirty. He should never have kept him on as a client as long as he had. He didn’t know if the feeling of being tainted would ever be gone. At his desk he took out his journal, wrote the words ‘closed’ beside Sam Long. The file he’d built on the LaRoux family he tucked away in the back of his desk. Forever out of sight.

Or so he thought.

* * *

1956 A small clinic near Houma, La

After her dreams about her father and what happened when she was young, her ‘gift’ stayed dormant for a time. Whit continued to visit about once a month; she even received a letter from her old friend, Paul Morgan. The dreams with the unknown woman came and went at various times which she still hadn’t figured out why. She knew in time she would.

Now she needed to concentrate on what’s happening to her baby. Cassie gritted her teeth when the labor pain hit her again. Whatever made her think she wanted another child? Just because the emptiness never went away from giving up her first baby, wasn’t a reason to go through the pain all over again.

Cassie heard the doctor speaking to Whit outside her room. She knew something was wrong. She’d lost a lot of blood; there’d been talk of surgery, something about the baby not in a good position. Thank God Whit was here with her. But why didn’t the doctor tell her what’s wrong? Why didn’t Whit?

As another cramp took hold of her, she tried to focus on something in the room to take her mind off the pain. Riding the wave as it crawled up her middle she yearned for some magic pill to take it all away!

Whit strode into the room with the doctor close behind him. Cassie struggled to sit up, holding out her hand for his support. “Cassie, darling, let me help.” Putting extra pillows behind her back he asked, “Is that better?”

“Oui. Thank you, my husband.” Looking at the two of them, Cassie asked, “Doctor, what’s happening, what’s wrong with my baby?” She clutched Whit’s hand as if her life depended upon his strength. The feeling of doom crept closer. If Cassie didn’t know better she’d swear the room darkened.

“Mrs. Blalock, there isn’t anyway to put this but bluntly. The baby is in a precarious position. From what I can tell its breach, which means the head is pointing in the wrong direction.”

“Oh! Will it be all right? What can we do?” Cassie felt a chill slid down her spine. A fear worse than cramps stole into her heart.

“I’m going to try and turn the baby. But the risk is great. I have no way of knowing if the cord is wrapped around its neck or if there is something else going on. We do not have the facilities here in the clinic to handle such emergencies. There is no time to get you to New Orleans where the doctors are better equipped. I’m sorry. I’ll do the best I can, but can make no promises.” The doctor patted her hand before calling for his nurse.

Cassie grabbed onto the sleeve of Whit’s shirt. “Whit! Please, make sure our baby will be okay. Please.”

Whit leaned down to kiss Cassie on the forehead. “It will be fine. The doctor will do everything he can. The most important thing to me is that you come out of this all right. I do not want to lose my beautiful Cassie!” Then he kissed her fully on the mouth which took her breath away as always.

The doctor came back into the room with the nurse to help prepare Cassie. As they worked on trying to turn the baby, Cassie gripped the sheets biting back screams until she couldn’t stand the pain any longer. A scream rent through the room as the doctor maneuvered the baby within her womb.

Whit paced the floor outside Cassie’s room wondering what devil possessed him to make the arrangements he’d made with the doctor. How could he be so callous with Cassie’s feelings? It’s called self-preservation. Yeah, right, he thought.

Another scream came from behind the closed door. Whit almost rushed in to stop the doctor, but he didn’t. Instead he went down the hall to the lobby looking for something to drink. He could use some whiskey. Of course that’s out of the question in a hospital.

Back in the room the doctor told Cassie he would have to perform surgery to remove the baby. He said it didn’t appear to be breathing and that it’s possible that the cord might be wrapped around its neck.

As they rushed to prepare a room for the surgery, Cassie wondered where Whit could be. She didn’t have much time to worry about him as the pains kept coming faster. Crying, she combated them as best she could. The doctor told her not to push. There again someone is saying ‘don’t push’, when all you want to do is push out the pain! Are they nuts? Maybe she is for wanting to try again to have a baby.

And she might not even survive the ordeal! Nor the baby, if what the doctor is saying is true. How could that be? God would not let her lose this baby. Not this time when she has a husband who loves her and wants to take care of her.

Self-doubts continued to plague Cassie until the medicine took affect. As her last thoughts began to dwindle she had enough time before sleep took over, to wonder if the dreams would come.

* * *

Whit walked into the front door of his home in Monroe with a bundle in his arms. “Dora, where the hell are you?”

“In the kitchen. I didn’t realize you’d be home today.” Dora walked out of the kitchen wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw what Whit held out.

“Well, it came through. The adoption. I told you I’d get you a baby. Look for yourself.” He held out the baby for Dora to take.

“Oh my goodness. She’s beautiful. Such tiny little fingers. But, Whit, where, how did you find her?”

“That’s not for you to worry about. Be a good mother to her. She’s ours now.” Whit ignored the twinge of guilt that shot an arrow through his heart.

The front door slammed back as Sam Long rushed into the house. “Where is she? Where is my granddaughter?” He came over to Dora to look at the baby.

“Daddy, how did you know?” Dora smiled up at him, her eyes bright with happiness.

“Whit called from the hospital where he arranged to pick her up. We wanted to surprise you. I hoped it would make you feel better. You’ve been poorly since your last miscarriage.”

Dora held the baby close to her breast. The baby held onto her finger with a firm grip for one so small. “What shall we name her?”

Whit said, “Sara. That’s what we’ll call her.”

Dora looked at the baby then at Whit, “Yes. Sara Jane. I like that name.” Cooing softly, Dora took Sara Jane to the room she’d prepared long ago to be the nursery. Finally she has her baby girl. What she’s always wanted. A baby girl to love, to cuddle, to play with, and to watch grow into a beautiful young lady. She couldn’t wait for all the pleasures that having this baby girl could bring to their life. Whit must love her to do this for her! The doubts she’d harbored since losing her last baby evaporated as joy filled her heart.

* * *

CHAPTER ELEVEN

When Cassie woke up the doctor informed her that Whit had taken care of all the arrangements for the baby. That she was not to worry, just get well. She’d lost a lot of blood the doctor said and she needed to rest. She felt as if she’d been asleep for weeks instead of days. She wanted her husband. Even though she understood he was only trying to help ease the pain of losing her baby, she wished she could have held it for just a moment. She didn’t even know if it was a boy or a girl!

Cassie turned onto her side to stare out the window of the small hospital room. Tears fell from her eyes to roll down her cheeks. Two babies she’d been forced to give up in such a short lifetime. She prayed she’d never have to lose another baby!

That next week Whit returned to take her home. Her family swarmed around them as Whit insisted on her carrying her into the house.

“Chère, come sit here. I’m brought pillows and quilts to make you comfortable.” Sharla pointed to the rocker. Whit carried Cassie over and placed her gently down.

“Merci.” Cassie settled herself more comfortably in the chair before the children could swoop down on her.

Sharla watched the signs of pain cloud her daughter’s eyes. Her heart broke for Cassie. She knew how it felt to lose a baby. “Well, you must be tired and hungry. Why don’t I bring you a little snack, then perhaps you’d like to lie down for a bit?”

Cassie felt tears form in her eyes again, but she didn’t want them to spill out. She forced a smile on her face, “That sounds wonderful. Thank you, Mère.”

Much later in the evening, after everyone was in bed, Cassie lay beside Whit in their bedroom. She stared up at the ceiling wondering why God hated her so much. Two babies she’d lost. Well, to be honest she didn’t lose the first one. She saved that little girl. She trusted Paul to find her a good home and in his last letter he told her that the child was doing fine. He wouldn’t send her any pictures because he felt that it would be too painful for her. She will be four years old this summer. She tried to use her ‘gift’ to reach out to the child. To tap into the child’s energy as she’s a part of her, and see for herself that Paul spoke the truth. But it didn’t work. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get through the barrier of time.

Twenty-one years old is too young to have to suffer through two births and come out without a baby in her arms. Cassie felt Whit move closer to her, snaking his arm around her waist to pull her close. She let his warmth envelope until finally she closed hers and slept.



Months went by and time started to heel her sorrow. Cassie continued to work at the restaurant while Whit came and went as usual. Before she knew it a couple of years flew by and still Whit didn’t reside with them. He continued to insist that he maintain a residence in Monroe, for the sake of the business.

Cassie began to have strange dreams again. The same one came over and over. She knew it meant something, but she didn’t know what or how it figured into her life. Deciding she needed guidance on the subject she sought out her mother.

She found Sharla in her favorite place, the garden. On bended knees she watched Sharla dig up the soil, and then place a few seeds in the ground.

“Good morning, Mere.” Cassie squatted beside her, taking up a garden tool to twirl in her hand.

Sharla glanced over at Cassie. “Good morning, chère. Would you like to help me in the garden today?”

“Not really. I need advice.” Cassie put the tool down, and rose. She held out her hand to help her mother up.

“I see.” After she stood up, Sharla wiped off her hands on the towel she kept nearby. She told Cassie, “Come. We’ll make some hot tea. Perhaps we’ll find a pastry or two left from breakfast to have with our tea.”

As they prepared their snack, Cassie tried to formulate in her mind where to begin. Thankfully her mother’s intuition was better than her own.

Sharla sipped her tea looking at Cassie over the rim of the cup. Placing it back on the table she asked Cassie, “The dreams are coming back?”

“Yes. And I don’t know what to make of it.”

“Tell me about them.” Sharla watched Cassie take a deep breath and listened as the story tumbled from her lips.

Cassie told her everything she could remember about the dream.

“Hmm,” was all the comment Sharla made.

“That’s all you can say? You don’t know what it means? Why I’m dreaming about another woman and a little girl?”

Sharla reached out for Cassie’s hand. Taking it between hers she said, “Chère, it’s probably because you know that the child you gave up with be four this year. You’re just seeing her with the woman who took her in to love and care for. That’s all.”

“No!” Cassie jerked her hand back. “You don’t understand. The woman in my dream is the same woman that I envisioned years ago who lost her child while I could ‘see’ her. That woman!”

“Oh my!” Sharla’s face blanched of all color.

“Mother! Are you all right? You’re so pale.” Cassie grabbed a wet towel to wipe her mother’s face.

“Yes, I’m fine. Sit down, don’t fuss over me.” Sharla batted Cassie’s hand away.

Cassie plumped back down in the chair. “What is it? Are you sick?”

Sharla took a deep breath. “Here’s what I think you should do. Contact your friend Paul. Describe the woman to him, and ask if he knows her. If he doesn’t, ask him for the number of a private detective. I think it’s time you find out why your husband refuses to move here. Or why he will not move you to Monroe.”

“What are you saying? That Whit and that woman know each other? You think he’s having an affair?”

“Cassie, I did not say that. There are questions that have gone unannounced too long. It’s time for you to either get those answers, or stay in the dark for the rest of your married life!” Sharla went to the sink to rinse out her tea cup. “That’s all I’m saying.”

Cassie watched her mother leave the room. Well that didn’t go as she expected. She thought her mother would give her the interpretation of her dream, not go off on some tangent about hiring a private investigator. Good grief!

Later that day Cassie sat down and wrote Paul a letter. She poured out her heart to him as she felt he was a friend she could trust. She told him everything she could remember about the dream and also other niggling doubts that she kept buried in the back of her mind. At one point she stopped writing and picked up the phone to call him. Before anyone could pick up on the other end, she hung up. It’s easier to write it all down that way he can’t see her tears.

The dream continued to haunt her at times, but no additional information was revealed in them. She waited and waited for word from Paul. Several months went by and still no word. One day as she and her cousin were walking home from work, a vehicle pulled up beside them. The man inside rolled down the passenger window to then shouted our her name to get her attention.

Cassie stopped. She leaned down where she could see inside the automobile. “Hello. I remember you.” Cassie said to the man who once had saved her life.

“Hello. Would you care for a ride home? I’m on my way to your house; I wanted to speak with you about an important matter.” He opened the passenger door for her.

Cassie motioned for her cousin to get into the back seat. “Merci.”

Clayton held out his hand, “I don’t know if you remember my name or not, it’s been a while. Clayton Grimes.” He shook hands with both of them.

“Cassie Blalock, and that’s my cousin, Arnaud Bodine. That’s for the ride. Why are you looking for me?” A spidery sensation traveled up her spine.

“Paul Morgan sent me. I’m a private investigator. He thought you might be in need of my services.”

“Oh!” Cassie didn’t know what to say about this unexpected turn of event.

They rode in  silence the rest of the way. Cassie tried to formulate some type of idea as to what Paul had been thinking to send Mr. Grimes her way. But, then again, her mother also suggested that same thing.