Prologue
New Orleans, 1850
Jeanette Borneau's stylish afternoon gown contrasted sharply with the shabby New Orleans hotel room where she stood, her face streaked with tears. She stared at the dashing Texan a few feet away, incredulity holding her motionless as Buck Star snapped his traveling bag shut, turned toward her and said, "You can't tell me you weren't expecting this to happen sooner or later, darlin'. We both knew it couldn't last forever."
"I don't know what you mean." Her flawless complexion pale, her voice a hoarse whisper, Jeanette forced herself to continue, "I love you. You said you loved me. I thought you meant those words."
"I did mean them ... for a while."
Buck scanned her face with blue eyes that had glowed with passion while she had lain in his arms. She remembered the first time she saw him, when their glances met and she had known in an instant she would love him. She recalled the ecstasy of their lovemaking, a glory that had soared greater and more powerful with each touch. But there was neither passion nor emotion shining in his eyes as he continued with an offhanded smile, "Listen, darlin', I'm not saying we didn't have a fine time together. Hell, no other woman ever pleased me more than you did."
"Are you afraid of my husband?" Jeanette took a shuddering breath. Her delicate features twitched as she hastened to reassure him, "Antoine's an old man. He's no match for you even if he should try to stop us."
"Stop us-from what?"
"That's what I came to tell you. I'm leaving Antoine and going back to Texas with you-so I can be your wife, so we can always be together."
"You're already married, remember?"
"I'll petition the church to have the marriage annulled!"
"You have an eight-year-old daughter."
"Celeste can stay behind with Antoine. She'll be better off with him anyway."
Surprised that the concession did not please him, Jeanette continued in a rush, "I never loved Antoine! I was sixteen and desperate; he was wealthy and he wanted me. I wouldn't have married him if there was any other way. I didn't love any of the other men I've been with in the time since, either. You're the only man I've ever loved-only you! We can be happy together. We will be happy together."
Buck frowned. "Look, the truth is, I had a visit from your husband this morning." At Jeanette's gasp, he added, "He's a nice old man, you know. He was real civil about everything. He's ready to forgive and forget just like he did all the other times you found a fella who caught your eye. His only condition is that I leave New Orleans right now and never look back."
"But-"
"He was real generous, too, paying for the new stock I'm having shipped in for the ranch, plus all my expenses here, with a little bit left over besides. The way things worked out, I'm going back to Texas practically a rich man."
Jeanette clutched a nearby chair for support. "But I love you."
"It's just your pride hurting because I'm ending things before you're ready. You'll get over it."
"That isn't true!"
"You'll forget I ever existed when the next good-looking young fella comes your way. In the meantime, your husband's home, waiting for you."
"I love you. I couldn't bear to lie in Antoine's arms or anyone else's but yours ever again!"
Buck swung his case off the bed and shrugged. "Whatever you say, but the stage is leaving for Texas in an hour. I'm going to be on it."
"Take me with you, Buck, please!" Throwing herself against him, Jeanette pleaded, "Let me show you how much I love you. Let me prove to you what a good wife I can be."
"Jeanette, honey," Buck paused. His voice deepened. "The thing is, I've already got me a wife and family back in Texas, and I'm going home to them."
Stunned, Jeanette remained motionless as Buck pried her clutching fingers from his shirt. She was unable to speak when he then tipped his hat and said, "Thanks for everything, ma'am, but I'm saying goodbye."
Numbed, she watched as he drew open the door and strode out of sight, his words trailing into the deadening silence in his wake.
* * *
Celeste Borneau's petulant screams echoed through the opulent, Charters Street mansion as she broke free of Madalane's restraining grip and scrambled down the hallway toward her mother's room. Screaming louder when her mother's devoted nanny grasped her arm again, she shouted, "Get away from me! Leave me alone or I'll tell my mama to fire you! She'll send you back to walk the streets of that island you came from, and she'll let you rot there!"
The handsome negress squeezed her arm almost painfully tight as she glared, "Your mama is upset. She does not wish to be disturbed."
"I don't care!"
Struggling free again, Celeste ran toward the doorway at the end of the hall and burst through, then halted at the sight of her mother lying on the bed, gasping for breath. She paid no notice to Madalane when the silent nanny left her side to pick up the glass that had fallen from Jeanette's hand, sniffed it, then stood back with restrained emotion. Instead, annoyed that her mother did not greet her warmly, she ran to the bed and was about to shout her demands when her mother grasped her hand in a painful grip.
"... can't go on, Celeste." Jeanette stared up at her, struggling to breathe. "He destroyed me ... left me with nothing." Her eyes bulging with the effort to speak, Jeanette clutched Celeste's hand more tightly and gasped, "He never loved me ... just made a fool of me. I hate him! You must make him pay, Celeste. You must promise me ..."
Becoming frightened at her mother's gasping demand, Celeste attempted to withdraw her hand. She didn't want her mother to be sick now. She wanted her mother to take her to buy the new hat she had promised her. She wanted-
Her mother's biting grip cut into Celeste's thoughts as she demanded more harshly, "You must ... promise me ... someday to make him pay."
Nodding, Celeste snatched back her hand as a strange rattle sounded in her mother's throat.
Suddenly furious that her mother would dare disappoint her, Celeste shouted, "Get up! Get up now!"
She was screeching and stamping her feet at her mother's refusal to respond when Madalane dragged her away.
* * *
Her stubborn tantrum still raging an hour later, Celeste screamed at the locked door of her room. She didn't like being locked in. She would not stand for it! She would cry and howl until her father came for her as he always did. Her mother often ignored her for the pretty fellows who gathered around her. She broke her word without a thought when one of them whispered in her ear, but she wouldn't get away with it this time. She'd tell her father. He would be angry, and he would make her mother buy her a new hat, and more.
That thought inspiring her to wail anew, Celeste looked up at the sound of a key in the lock. Her cries died in her throat when Madalane entered, her expression grim.
She did not speak when Madalane began, "You must prepare yourself to accept difficult news, Celeste." The negress took a stabilizing breath. "Your mother is no longer with us. She died at her own hand."
Momentarily motionless, Celeste then raised her chin. She didn't care. Her father would take care of her. He would buy her anything she wanted.
Madalane continued, "Your father was overwhelmed with grief when he learned of your mother's death. His heart was weak. It stopped beating." She paused again. "Monsieur Borneau is dead." With furious tears suddenly falling, Celeste shrieked, "No, you lie! Mama isn't gone. She's sleeping-and Papa would never leave me!"
Her tirade was halted by Madalane's stinging slap. Shocked into silence, Celeste listened as the devoted servant rasped, "Your tears are useless! You cry because you think you are alone, but you are not. I will care for you just as I cared for your mother-but I tell you now ..."
Grasping Celeste's shoulders, Madalane leaned down to stare into her eyes as she hissed, "Your mother's faithless lover is responsible for her death. He is the one who stole her will to live. He is the one who killed your father. He is the man who took from you everything you know."
Madalane shook away the last of Celeste's tears with dark eyes burning. She grated, "Listen to me. Remember the pledge you made to your dying mother, for I now make this pledge to you: Together, we will honor the promise you made. Together, we will achieve her vengeance."
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Texas Starby Elaine Barbieri Copyright © 2004 by Elaine Barbieri . Excerpted by permission.
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