He stepped outside and spotted Aurora leaning over her old-fashioned buttoned boot that she’d propped on a picnic bench. The curls of her hair hung over her shoulder, leaving the crisscross laces on the back of her dress visible. They cinched together down the center of the lacy fabric hugging her torso, seeming to make a point of showing off the way her waist nipped in all small and female, and swelled out again over her hips.
He frowned, yanking his eyes away.
He’d always lumped Aurora in the same category as his little sisters. She’d been the kid sister of one of his best friends. Noticing anything about her waist or hips, or anything else for that matter, wasn’t something he was altogether comfortable with.
He settled his hat more squarely on his head and made some noise thumping down the metal steps, and as he’d hoped, she lowered her foot and straightened as he approached.
Her blue eyes ran over him. “I knew Rusty’s costume would fit you.” She gave a quick smile. “You don’t know how much I appreciate you doing this.”
“Don’t y’all put on this wedding show more than once a day?” The other shows he’d noticed in his week working here had repeated themselves several times a day. There was a bank robbery thing that happened out on Main Street as Aurora’s show did, a stunt show that was held at the far end of the park in the corral set in the shadows of a wooden roller coaster complete with two loop-the-loops, a saloon girl dancing show held almost hourly inside the Texas Rose restaurant, and a few others that seemed to alternate, all designed to keep the guests entertained.
Aurora was nodding. “You and I...well, Rusty and Lila get to pledge their troth four times daily.” She pulled on the thin gold chain hanging around her neck and a locket emerged from the front of her dress. He realized it was a watch when she flipped it open. “Which we’ve got to do in ten minutes.” She slid the locket back into her cleavage.
Somehow he’d missed the fact that Aurora McElroy even possessed cleavage. That time at the feed store he was certain she’d been wearing a plaid work shirt that had been big enough to fit her daddy.
He dragged his mind away from cleavages. They were fine in their place. He was even a man who enjoyed his fair share of ’em.
But not when their existence seemed to come out of the same left field as Aurora’s “I need you to marry me” had.
“Seems to me missing one show wouldn’t be the end of Cowboy Country,” he said, keeping his eyes well above her neckline.
“We get paid by the show,” Aurora said. “Maybe it wouldn’t be the end of Cowboy Country. But it cuts into the performers’ paychecks, believe me.” She gestured at the script. “Did you look through it?”
He grimaced and dutifully opened the script. Fortunately, it was easy to read. Only a few words per line, running down the center of the page. The action took up more space than the dialogue and attested to what he already knew—that the show involved stagecoaches, racing horses, and a lot of melodrama. “I guess I can manage,” he muttered.
Even a hick rancher could read a few lines of dialogue.
He scanned through the pages, easily grasping the gist. He was to escape Frank’s goons who were holding him captive and race to Aurora’s rescue with the deed to her daddy’s ranch in Rusty’s name, narrowly preventing Frank from forcing her to say “I do” in front of the preacher.
Like Aurora had said. It wasn’t Shakespeare.
It was just a ten-minute show that took place in the middle of the whole dang park since someone, in their brilliance, had recently decided the Wild West Wedding stage needed to be relocated there.
People could be eating hot dogs in the Main Street Grill, watching a demonstration over in the smithy or buying hand-dipped candles in Gus’s General Store; they’d catch the wedding.
“It’ll be fun,” Aurora promised.
He snorted softly. “Getting my teeth drilled appeals more than making an ass out of myself in front of Cowboy Country’s paying customers.”
“You’re not going to make an ass of yourself,” she assured dismissively. She reached up and adjusted his tie, then stepped back, her hands tucked behind her back. “You actually look perfect for the part.” She smiled, but her eyes didn’t quite meet his. “Better than Joey, even, but don’t tell him I said so.” She smiled a little impishly. “His ego is a tad delicate.”
“Well, it’s probably dented pretty good now he’s fallen off a horse. Where’d it happen? Here at the park?”
“No, thank goodness.” She rolled her eyes. “Can you imagine the publicity we’d get about it after already having a horse stampede during the soft opening? But from what I heard, he might have sprained his ankle. And I can’t see him resuming Rusty’s role if he’s sporting a modern splint. Don’t worry,” she added quickly, seeming to recognize Galen’s alarm, “the casting department will be able to find someone to replace him. Right now, I’m concerned with getting us through today.”
“Hold on.” He closed the script and tossed it on the picnic table. “I remember something about this taking ten minutes of my time.” The authenticity-consultant business was temporary and only took up part of his day. He might not have been a real fan when the park first opened, but even a man like him could recognize that the park’s success meant success for Horseback Hollow as well.
He hated change, but he loved his hometown more. So he was willing to do his part. And the fact that Moore Entertainment was willing to pump some serious money into the town contributed to that willingness.
Nevertheless, he still had his own ranch to run, and even at the best of times, that was a 24/7 job.
“That’s all I agreed to,” he said. “Once I embarrass myself in the noon show, your—” what had she called it? “—casting department better be finding someone else in the two hours before the next show.”
“I’m sure they will,” she soothed. She slipped a tube out of some mysterious pocket hidden in the side of her skirt and ran it quickly over her lower lip, leaving it pinker than it ordinarily was and intriguingly shiny. “In the meantime, we’ve got a crowd to entertain. Okay?”
He dragged his eyes away.
What the hell was wrong with him? A corner of the McElroys’ spread had butted up next to his folks’ property his whole life. He wasn’t all that sure that his little brother Jude hadn’t dated Aurora once upon a time. Before Jude fell for Gabriella Mendoza last year, he’d changed girlfriends more often than Galen changed shirts.
“Yo, yo, yo,” Frank hailed, joining them. He dropped a proprietary arm around Aurora’s shoulders and squeezed. With his free hand, he twirled one side of his fake mustache and leered at her. “Ready to become my wifey, my dear?”
Aurora’s smile thinned a little. She unhooked Frank’s arm from her shoulders and stepped away from him. “Save it for the crowd, Frank.” She sent Galen a smile and marched ahead of them to climb into a buckboard that would carry them down the center of Main Street while the guests were safely held back from the action with ropes carried by security guards dressed as old-time railroad workers.
As he watched, she worked a small headset into her riotous curls and he felt a fresh wave of misgivings. That headset was a microphone. She followed up the headset with a lacy veil held onto her head by a band of white roses.
“Rory likes playing hard to get,” Frank was telling Galen in a man-to-man tone that set Galen’s teeth on edge. “Makes the gettin’ all that much more fun.”
Galen eyed Frank, realizing he wore a tiny microphone, as well. “Am I gonna have to wear one of those?”
“Nah. Your important lines are picked up by the stage mics. Just remember they don’t kill the audio until right before you kiss Lila.” He clapped Galen on the shoulder. “Break a leg,” he said before sauntering ahead to climb up beside Aurora. She had her head tilted back, seeming to be looking up at the sky.
Another young man whom Galen didn’t know handed Frank the reins for the horse’s harness, then moved up to the front to lead the horse around towar
d a wide gate that he swung open.
Over the loudspeaker, a deep-voiced announcer was telling all comers to hold on to their chaps ’cause they were in for a hog-tying good time down on Main Street.
On cue, Aurora looked back at Galen and gave him an encouraging thumbs-up. Then Frank flicked the reins and the buckboard rattled out of the gate just as adventurous music blasted over the loudspeakers. A moment later, Galen could hear Aurora’s and Frank’s voices as the show began in earnest.
“Good grief,” he muttered, feeling a strong urge to sit on the picnic bench and stick his head between his knees. What the hell had he agreed to do?
But there was no time for second thoughts. Over the speakers, he could hear “Lila” proclaiming her faith in her beloved “Rusty.”
“You’re the new Rusty?” A vaguely familiar-looking skinny guy wearing a ten-gallon hat and a bright, shining sheriff’s star on the chest of his blue shirt got his attention.
“Only for this show,” Galen allowed.
“Come on, then. I’m Sal the Sheriff.” He shoved a bedraggled-looking scroll into Galen’s hand. “That’s the deed you need to wave in Frank’s face before you knock him out and kiss Lila. Try not to drop it like Joey keeps doing when we’re riding down Main Street.”
Galen started, but Sal was already hurrying him to another gate farther along than the one the buckboard had gone through. There were ten horses waiting, eight of them already mounted with riders. Some were dressed like Frank. Some like Sal.
He tucked the deed inside his shirt and swung easily up into the saddle.
But his thoughts were nowhere near so calm.
He should have paid more attention to the end of the script. He’d gotten to the punching Frank part. But he’d clean missed seeing that he got to kiss the fair Lila at the end.
Galen had never gone to school to study acting the way Aurora had. As far as he was concerned, kissing Lila would be as good as kissing her.
And even though he was rapidly realizing that wasn’t an entirely unappealing notion, it wasn’t something he necessarily wanted to do in front of an audience!
Chapter Two
Aurora didn’t have to work too hard to look dismayed as she fended off Frank’s advances when he pulled her unwillingly toward the wooden stage at the end of Main Street, where a preacher paced back and forth in front of the old west building facade of a bank, a boardinghouse and a feed store. Frank had been making advances toward her for the past two weeks—ever since he’d joined the cast—and didn’t seem to take the hint that she wasn’t interested.
“I don’t want to marry you,” she cried out loudly for the crowd who’d been following them along Main Street as her trials and tribulations were extolled. “I love Rusty. He’d never desert me like you claim!”
Frank pulled her close, his leer exaggerated for the audience. “He’s gone off to Dodge City, my dear.” He twirled his mustache for added effect. “He’s never going to come back. Your only hope to save your departed daddy’s land from the railroad—”
The crowd booed on cue.
“—is to marry me!” He swept her off her feet, carrying her, kicking and struggling, up the steps and onto the stage. “That’s it, Preacher Man,” he boomed and set her on her feet. “Get us wedded and hurry up about it.”
Behind them, the onlookers sent up a cheer as horse hooves pounded audibly down Main Street, accompanied by the triumphant music swelling over the loudspeakers.
Lila tried to pull away from Frank, but he held her arm fast.
“Dearly beloved,” Preacher Man started off in a quaking voice. “We are gathered—”
“Get on to the vows,” Frank demanded, looking nervously over his shoulder.
Preacher Man gulped. “Do you, sir, take this, ah—”
“Lila,” Frank growled loudly. He pulled out his pistol and waved it, and a sharp crack! rent the air. Down the facade in front of the feed store, a bag of seed exploded. “Hurry it along, Preacher Man, or the next one goes in you.”
Preacher Man’s eyes widened. “Take Lila, to be your wife—” His fast words practically fell on top of each other.
“I do,” Frank yelled, “and she does—”
“Not!” Rusty had vaulted from his horse and stormed up onto the stage, sweeping Lila away from Frank. “She’ll never be your wife, Frank. No more than that land’ll ever be yours.” He pulled the deed from inside his shirt and waved it in the air. “They’re both mine, and I’ll never let either one go!”
“Oh, Rusty.” Lila nearly swooned as the audience hooted. Aurora caught the faint grin on Galen’s face before he turned to take on the villain of the piece, and felt a little bit swoonish inside for real.
She’d gotten over her schoolgirl crush on him ages ago, but Galen Fortune Jones was still the kind of man that could make a girl’s heart stutter.
She clasped her hands together over her breast, crying out as Frank aimed his pistol at Rusty’s chest.
But Lila’s white-hatted hero fought off the hand holding the gun and swung his fist into Frank’s chin, knocking him comically right off the stage where he fell ignominiously on his butt in a pile of fake horse poop.
Sal the Sheriff and his men stood over Frank and his goons, whom he and Rusty had already dispatched, looking satisfied at the turn of events.
She waited until the cheers died down slightly. “I knew you’d save me, Rusty!”
“I’ll always save you, Lila.” Galen’s voice was deep and loud and definitely heroic as he tossed the “deed” to the sheriff, who caught it handily. “Will you finally be my wife?”
She fanned herself, simpering. “You know I will, Rusty.”
They turned to Preacher Man, who stopped gaping comically at Frank and flipped open his oversize Bible again. “Dearly beloved,” he began again.
“I do,” Lila burst out. “And he does, too!”
The audience laughed and Preacher Man held out his hands as if to say, what could he do? “Then I now pronounce you husband and—”
Galen swept off his hat with one hand and grabbed her around the waist with his other. “Wife,” he finished loudly, then bent her deep over his arm, while she buried her face against his chest.
“Am I s’posed to kiss you for real?” Galen whispered in her ear as the crowd cheered and the music crescendoed from the loudspeakers to its triumphant conclusion.
Something inside Aurora’s tummy fluttered. The way Galen held her, nobody beyond the stage would be able to see that Rusty and Lila weren’t actually locking lips. She shook her cheek against his, though she wished he hadn’t asked. That he would have just gone ahead and done it.
It was as close as she’d ever get to actually kissing the man for real, that was for certain.
Sal the Sheriff and his men pulled Frank from the horse manure and clapped him in chains before leading him and his goons off at rubber gunpoint through the audience.
As they did after every show, the onlookers dispersed quickly, anxious to get to the next attraction. The next cotton candy. The next roller coaster.
She didn’t mind the quick loss of attention.
She was just happy to be part of a show again. Playing Lila in Wild West Wedding was a far cry from the acting career she’d once dreamed of having, but for a rancher’s daughter who spent day in and day out helping her father, it was more than she’d thought she’d ever have.
And being held in a close embrace against a seriously handsome cowboy wasn’t anything to sneeze at, either.
Feeling breathless inside, Aurora patted Galen’s shoulders. “You can let me go now,” she whispered. It was safe to break character, because the mics were cued to be killed at Rusty’s last word, “wife.”
“Yeah. Right.” Galen straightened, letting her loose. All around them, people were streaming away from the stage, calling out smart remarks and still clapping.
She beamed at them and tucked her arm through Rusty’s, clinging to him as they and Preacher Man left the stage and
strolled in the opposite direction from where Frank had been taken by the sheriff to the jail across the street. As long as any of the cast members were in costume out in the public areas of the park, they remained in character.
Over the loudspeaker, the music had softened to a background melody of “Yellow Rose of Texas.”
When they passed through a gate once more to the backstage area, though, she forced herself to let go of Galen’s arm. “You did a good job,” she said, slipping past him. “Didn’t he make a good Rusty, Harlan?”
“Hell,” Galen said, stopping short. He peered at Preacher Man’s face. “I didn’t even notice that was you, Mayor.”
Harlan Osgood grinned, pulling off his bottle-glass round spectacles and the fake gold caps on his front teeth. “Got myself a helper at the barbershop these days,” he said. “Been having some fun doing this a few times a day.”
“Harlan switches off with Buddy Jepps playing Preacher Man,” Aurora provided. She pulled off the veil and microphone, then the hairpiece she wore over her own pinned-up hair, and saw Galen’s look.
She laughed a little awkwardly, holding up the thick fall of ringlets that perfectly matched her own dark red hair. “My hair is straight as a stick. It would take hours to curl like this. And pretty as this is,” she held out one side of her skirt and gave a quick curtsy, “it’s about as comfortable as a straitjacket. So I’m going to change.” She headed toward the costume trailer, leaving the two men still talking.
The corseted wedding dress wasn’t quite as uncomfortable as she’d made out.
But she had no intention of admitting that she was finding it a tad difficult to breathe normally after being clasped up against Galen.
Being held by Frank was a requirement of the role she was playing.
Being held by Galen Fortune Jones was something entirely different...
She left her veil and microphone out so the production crew could reset them in the buckboard for the next show, then stepped behind the changing screen to peel down the hidden zipper in the side of the old-fashioned-looking dress. She hung it on the hanger and tucked it, as well as her boots, away in the corner of the wardrobe trailer she’d purloined for her own use. Then, changed once more into her own knee-length sundress and cowboy boots so she’d be free to move throughout the park until the next show, she left the trailer again.
Fortune's June Bride (Mills & Boon Cherish) (The Fortunes of Texas: Cowboy Country, Book 6) Page 2