Austin, Texas
July 1896
“By the power vested in me by God and the state of Texas—”
“Stop this wedding!”
Everything around Caroline Murray seemed to blur. Yet she was more aware than she’d ever been. Time fractured until it was made up of nothing more than tiny details. Seemingly insignificant, she could still feel their indelible stamp on her soul.
Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows of the church, spilling a bizarre assortment of colors onto her pure-white gown. Her hands were clasped in her groom’s. His grip held hers tighter and tighter. So tight now that it was almost painful, not unlike the ring he’d placed on her finger only moments ago that had somehow been forged a size too small.
None of that mattered now because through the dreamy tinge of her veil she watched another woman march down the aisle with a baby in her arms and righteous indignation on her drawn features. Caroline turned back to her groom in confusion, waiting for him to take charge. She saw panic flash across his face before his dashing smile faded to a scowl. Yet he didn’t breathe a word. It seemed she would have to be the one to deal with the stranger who’d brought their wedding to a halt.
It was silent. Too silent with more than two hundred people in the chapel. Even the baby, with his eerily familiar eyes, stared at her without a sound. Somehow Caroline found her voice. “Who are you? What do you want?”
Compassion filled the eyes of the woman who surveyed her. “My name is Lucette Calabrese.”
“She is my sister,” Nico Calabrese asserted as if his strong Italian features bore any resemblance to the delicate ones of the woman who spoke with the inflections of the French.
Lucette closed her eyes and winced. “No. I am his wife.”
Caroline recoiled. “What?”
Lucette bounced the baby in her arms slightly. “This is our son.”
“Caroline, don’t believe her.” Nico’s dark, pleading eyes captured Caroline’s. “She is a crazy woman who follows me from town to town. She is obsessed with my career, my music, my voice.”
“Nico is right. I am crazy...for following him from city to city, standing by as he wastes the money he earns at the gambling table, then makes up for it by seducing unsuspecting women out of their fortunes.” Lucette lifted her chin. “But no longer. I am going home to France. His music, career and voice do not enchant me in the least. I came here today because I could not let him ruin another life the way he has ruined mine.”
Nico finally released Caroline’s hands. “How can you say these things?”
Lucette ignored him. “He will take your dowry and leave you after the honeymoon. That is his plan. Save yourself and your virtue while you can.”
With that, Lucette turned on her heel and walked out of the church. Nico swallowed hard. Turning back to Caroline, he asked, “Do you believe her?”
Her heart screamed no, but her head silenced it. A kaleidoscope of memories paraded through her mind. Their romance had been a fairy tale from the start. They’d met through her parents’ connections in the crème de la crème of Austin’s music society. He was everything they had always wanted for her and exactly what she’d wanted for herself: educated, well-traveled and, most important of all, musical. His skill at the piano wasn’t particularly anything to brag about, especially in comparison to her father’s, but then Lawrence Murray had been a world-renowned pianist from the age of eight.
Nico’s voice, however, was the epitome of what a classical tenor should be. His control over it was astounding, his lyrical phrasing impeccable. He put new shadow, light, vibrancy into melodies she’d heard hundreds of times before and made them exciting again.
Her parents loved him. He’d become the musical son they’d never had. So much so that she’d been glad her tone-deaf brother, Matthew, had been too preoccupied with his cattle and growing family in Little Horn, Texas, to see how they doted on Nico.
He was the handsomest man she’d ever seen and the only man to look beyond the influence and glamour of her parents’ lives to notice her—the girl with a voice that was pretty, but not nearly strong enough to match her mother’s mezzosoprano or to even make it onto the stage. Embarrassingly enough, Caroline had little else to recommend her. Why else would her father have set aside such an obscene amount of money for her dowry, then discreetly make it public knowledge?
Nico had told her the money didn’t matter to him. He loved her for who she was. In return he was destined to be her first and only love. Their romance was going to be able to meet the standard set by the tender tomes of her parents’ love story. At the very least, it was meant to rival her brother’s idyllic one. And it had.
Until now.
Maybe that had been the problem. All of it had been too good to be true. So much a fairy tale that it well and truly was only that—fiction.
She pulled in a deep breath, locked eyes with the man she’d just pledged her life to and suddenly felt dirty, soiled. Anger burned within her so hot and deep that it couldn’t rise to the surface. She pushed it away, clinging instead to the protective numbness. “Yes, Nico. I believe your wife.”
His shoulders sank, but he offered an irascible half smile and tweaked her nose in that familiar way of his. “It was fun while it lasted. Arrivederci, my sweet.”
She cringed away, but he was too busy rushing out the door to notice. It closed with a bang loud enough to startle some sense into her. She turned to her parents and their guests. “Wait. Shouldn’t someone arrest him for something?”
A few laughs punctuated the shocked silence as a few justice-minded men bolted off in pursuit. Caroline took advantage of the general confusion that followed to slip out the side door into the harsh sunlight. She shoved her veil out of the way and hugged her arms around her waist. Wincing as the door opened behind her, she turned with a glare that softened at the sight of her brother.
Matthew didn’t say anything at first. He just searched her face in concern. Finally, he ran his fingers through his blond hair and pleaded, “Carrie, let me take you away from here until all this blows over.”
“Where would we go?”
“To my ranch.”
A laugh escaped her. “In Little and Worn?”