Galen was still talking to Harlan, and his dark brown eyes crinkled a little as she approached them.
Her gauzy white tiered dress wasn’t at all confining, but she still felt a constriction in her chest when he looked her way.
It was a little annoying, actually. And embarrassing.
Because if Galen had been at all interested in her ever, he’d have had ample opportunity to do something about it. It wasn’t as if they lived on opposite ends of the planet, after all. A corner of her daddy’s ranch bordered his daddy’s, and she’d spent nearly all thirty years of her wholly single life living there.
Which was vaguely depressing, when she really thought about it.
Thirty years old.
She wouldn’t say she’d never been kissed, because she had. She’d even been in love until he’d been stolen away from her. But that time with Anthony Tyson had been years and years ago, back during the days when she’d still had dreams in her eyes about a life that held something more than cows, cows, and more cows.
And certainly more than little ol’ Horseback Hollow.
But life, at least Aurora’s, was about more than dreams. It was about loving her family and hard work and trying to replace a brother who was never coming back.
She added some briskness to her pace. “I’m going to head over to casting and see how they’re coming along on replacing Joey,” she said when she reached the two men. All around them, the performers for the next show, The Great Main Street Bank Heist, were beginning to arrive and the backstage area was becoming increasingly noisy.
“I should probably get back into my own stuff first,” Galen said, plucking the shirt.
She nodded. “Thanks again for pinch-hitting on such short notice.”
She still could hardly believe that he had. But then, she still had a hard time believing that he was helping out at Cowboy Country at all, considering that—like a good number of Horseback Hollow residents—at first he hadn’t even been a proponent of the theme park opening.
Tall, dark and swoonworthy he might be. But Galen Fortune Jones had ranching in his roots and ranching in his blood. And he’d never made any secret that he liked their little town just fine the way it was. He didn’t want to see outsiders and fat wallets coming in and gentrifying things.
She, however, had been practically champing at the bit to get her name added to the list of supporters. And as soon as she’d discovered that Moore Entertainment wanted to hire as many local performers as it could for the live entertainment at Cowboy Country, she’d hustled her tush right into line.
Yes, Wild West Wedding was as campy as it got. But in the two weeks since they’d opened, the guests had been enjoying it, and so was she.
“If you hold up a sec, I’ll walk with you,” Galen offered, surprising the heck out of her.
She realized she was twisting one toe of her prized Castleton boots into the dirt and made herself stop. “Sure.”
He smiled and strode away toward the trailer, all long legs and brawny shoulders.
“How’s your mama and daddy doing, Aurora? Haven’t seen Walt and Pru in months, it seems.”
Glad for the distraction, she smiled back at Harlan. “Real fine, Harlan. They’re going on a cruise, actually. To Alaska. They leave week after next.”
The mayor-slash-barber beamed at her. “That’s good news. I can’t remember a time when your folks ever went off on a real vacation. Not since—” He broke off and his smile turned a little awkward. “Not in a long time,” he amended. He patted her shoulder like a benevolent old uncle. “Be sure and give ’em my best, will you?”
“I will.” If her daddy hadn’t been bald as a cue ball and her mama hadn’t always cut her own hair, they’d have spent a little time in the Cuttery, the barbershop/salon where Harlan usually spent most of his time when he wasn’t acting as mayor, or playacting as Preacher Man.
Harlan headed off and Galen returned, wearing his own shirt and usual hat. On him, the black hat wasn’t the least bit villainous. It was just authentic.
“You even wore a cowboy hat back in high school, didn’t you?” she said aloud.
“Huh?” His fingertips lightly touched her back as they set off for the closest gate.
Her cheeks felt warm, but it was nothing compared to the shiver spiraling down her spine. “Nothing. Just thinking that Cowboy Country did a good job choosing you to make sure all things cowboy around here are actually believable.”
He grimaced, looking self-conscious. “It’s extra money in the bank,” he muttered. They’d reached the gate and he pulled it open for her, waiting for her to walk through first. “Every smart rancher knows it’s good to set some aside for leaner times.”
She watched him from the corner of her eye. “Your spread’s doing okay, though, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” He stopped outside Gus’s General Store where a selection of leather goods was on display. “My mom would like this,” he said, lifting a leather purse. But when he looked at the price tag, his eyebrows shot up. “Holy Chr—” He bit off the rest. “Even with all the Fortune money she refused to take from her newfound brother, that’s a ridiculous price.” Shaking his head, he dropped the purse back in place and continued down the boardwalk fronting the stores, the heels of his boots ringing out.
“I’ve heard a little about that,” Aurora said, skipping a few times to keep up with his long-legged pace. “Mostly that Jeanne Marie found out she’s twin sisters to British royalty?”
“She’s one of triplets,” he corrected. “Lady Josephine Chesterfield and James Marshall Fortune. Separated when they were babies. Josephine grew up in England. James in Atlanta. Mom here. Their birth mother only gave up the girls.”
She made a face. “I’m sure there’s a reason, but that sounds terrible.”
“She’s dead. It was only ’cause James started looking that they know anything about each other at all.”
“What’s it feel like finding out that you have scads of family across the world that you never even knew existed?”
“Pretty much the same way it felt not knowing they existed. I know it’s been important to my mom finding out about her birth family. The fact that both Josephine and James and their other brother, John, are all loaded is beside the point. But to me, it just means more cousins around the dinner table.” He gave her a sideways look. “You’re not one of those folks who got all het up about the royalty thing, are you?”
She shrugged and shook her head, even though it was a lie. She’d been just as fascinated as every other person in Horseback Hollow when their one-horse town first brushed up against royalty. “I ran into Quinn and Amelia Drummond the other day outside of the Hollows Cantina. They had little Clementine Rose with them. She’s a doll.”
“I guess so. Haven’t given the baby much thought.”
She tsked. “Just like a man.”
“What?” He frowned. “I know my new cousin had her in January. And I know things sure got interesting around these parts last year when the media found out Lady Amelia was pregnant.”
That was certainly true. A person hadn’t been able to get through town without running into one of the reporters camping out everywhere trying to get a shot of Lady Amelia and her rancher lover.
“Besides that,” he continued, “it’s like I said. Another person around the dinner table.” He shot her a grin. “Only the little munchkin is sitting in a high chair with strained peas all over her face.”
She smiled. “Still, I’d think it would feel pretty strange,” she said.
“Ending up with a passel of cousins?”
“Finding out I have more family than just Mama and Daddy.”
Galen shot her another glance. His grin died. “I still think about your brother,” he said quietly. “About Mark.”
“Me, too.” She was glad they’d reached the end of the block and gestured. “Casting is back this way.” She turned the corner and walked even more quickly down the street. She didn’t want to talk about Ma
rk. Didn’t want to think about him, actually.
Maybe that made her the worst sister in the history of the world, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to forgive her big brother for dying the way he had. For leaving her parents so broken it had taken them a decade before they were managing to find a little joy in life again.
In silence, she passed the Olde Tyme Photography studio, where guests could dress up in vintage clothing to have their portraits done, and went through another wooden gate, this one manned by a uniformed security guard.
“Afternoon, Tom,” she greeted as they passed from the nineteenth-century cowboy town back into the very modern present of steel and glass and asphalt.
Thanks to the park’s clever designers, neither the stark building housing Cowboy Country’s business offices nor the large employee parking lot were visible to Cowboy Country guests.
Excruciatingly aware of Galen following close on her heels, she went inside the office building and made her way back to the casting office.
“Hi, Diane,” she greeted the sleek, black-haired young woman sitting at the main desk in front of a half dozen hard chairs, most of which were occupied by people clutching comp cards in one hand and job applications in the other. “Have you gotten any word yet on how Joey Newsome is doing?”
Diane shook her head, barely looking at Aurora because she was too busy visually devouring Galen. “Who are you?” she asked in her throaty voice.
“Cowboy Country’s authenticity consultant. Galen Fortune Jones,” Aurora said abruptly. In her dealings with the casting department so far, she knew that Diane used to work at a modeling agency located in Chicago, where Moore Entertainment’s corporate headquarters was located.
Undoubtedly, the woman was stripping Galen down in her mind to chaps and nothing else.
Then Aurora wished she’d left off the “Fortune” part, because Diane’s eyes seemed to grow even more interested, if such a feat were possible.
“Galen Fortune Jones,” she purred, rising slowly from her desk, putting Aurora in mind of a cobra rising from her nest. “I’ve been learning lots about the Fortunes.” She actually put her slender hand on Galen’s shoulder and circled around him, giving every inch of him a closer look.
And while it made Aurora’s nerves itch as though they’d been dipped into fire ants, he didn’t seem to be bothered one little bit.
“I’m more Jones than Fortune,” he drawled. He’d removed his cowboy hat the second they’d entered the building, and he gave Diane the same crooked smile that used to have cheerleaders and bookworms alike swooning back when Aurora was a high school freshman and he and her brother were the senior football stars. “Haven’t seen you around Horseback Hollow. I’d have remembered if I had.”
Diane laughed, low in her throat. “I drive over from Vicker’s Corners,” she said, as if doing anything else was insane. “Offers a little more civilization for my tastes.”
Aurora hid a sudden smile, for there was nothing more certain to turn off Galen Jones than to compare Horseback Hollow unfavorably against its nearest neighbor, Vicker’s Corners.
“Well,” Galen settled his hat back in place, even though they were indoors. “Always have said there is no accountin’ for taste.” His easy tone took the insult out of the words, even though Aurora was certain he meant each one. Then he looked at Aurora. “I’d better head back out there. I’ve only got a few more hours before I need to get back to my place. I’ve got chores piling up by the minute and I don’t have anyone to help me around the place right now like your daddy has you.”
“Okay.” She rubbed her hands down the sides of her dress, wishing she had even a tenth of Diane’s confidence. “Thanks again for helping out today.” She glanced at the other woman. “He filled in for Joey so we didn’t have to cancel the show.”
Diane’s red lips curved. “The hero rides to the rescue in more ways than one.”
Galen looked uncomfortable. “Yeah, well.” He glanced at the applicants sitting in the chairs who’d been following their exchange like viewers at a tennis match. “See you around, Aurora.” He pulled open the office door. “Might grab a root beer at the Foaming Barrel later if you’re interested.”
She had to struggle not to look surprised, much less too interested. “Sure.”
But the door was already swinging shut after his departure.
“That was a fine specimen of cowboy,” Diane breathed.
Aurora couldn’t get overly annoyed with the other woman for that, since she happened to agree.
But oohing and ahhing over Galen Jones hadn’t gotten her anywhere when she’d been fourteen to his eighteen, and it wasn’t going to get her anywhere now.
“So,” she addressed Diane once more, “about Joey’s part. Any chance you can find a temporary replacement for the rest of the shows today?”
The one guy sitting in the chairs perked up visibly.
Aurora could have told him not to bother. “Rusty” was written for a specific physical type and the hopeful applicant was about half the size he needed to be.
Diane returned to her desk and flipped open a folder. “I’ve been through all the performers on file.” With Galen out of the room, she was all business. “We’ve got two who fit the type, but neither can ride a horse.” She shook her head a little. “Casting shows for Coaster World’s other locations is a lot easier than casting here,” she murmured, tapping the end of her pen against the desk. She glanced at Aurora. “You can dance, right? Tap, ballet, that sort of thing?”
The question seemed to come out of nowhere. “Yes.” She’d listed all of her skills on her application months earlier, well before Cowboy Country had opened to the public, even though they’d been learned as a little girl taking lessons over in Vicker’s Corners. She’d also listed the few college parts she’d been able to play before she’d had to leave school after Mark died. “So, about Rusty’s part?”
Diane lifted her shoulders and tossed down the pen. “If Joey’s not back in the saddle tomorrow or the next day, it’s possible we can bring in someone from another location,” she said. “But that’ll take some time.”
“Which means, what?”
“Without a Rusty, there’s no Wild West Wedding,” Diane said with another shrug. “No worries, though.” She picked up her phone and punched a few numbers. “Yeah, this is Diane in casting. Let me talk to Phillip.”
Aurora winced, knowing she was calling Phillip Dubois, the production head.
Diane tucked the receiver in her shoulder and looked back at Aurora again. “I hear Outlaw Shootout will be set to go by the end of this week. It’ll replace Wedding, and in the meantime we’ll fill in—”
“—replace Wedding!”
Diane lifted her hand, speaking into the phone again. “Hi, Phil. We’re going to need to pull Wild West Wedding from the sched—” Her jaw dropped when Aurora’s fingers slammed down on the phone hook. “Excuse me?”
Aurora retracted her hand, flushing. “You can’t just cancel the show.”
Diane gave her a pitying look. “Stuff happens, hon.”
“But Joey might well be back in the saddle, as you say, tomorrow.”
“That doesn’t solve the problem for three more shows today.” Diane started dialing again.
“Please don’t,” Aurora begged.
Diane sighed loudly and looked up through her lashes at her. “Why?”
“The show means so much to, uh, to so many people,” she said weakly. “We’ve got one of the largest casts in all of Cowboy Country’s productions.” The only shows with more parts were the Sunday Go to Meeting House with their choir show and the How the West Was Won Saloon Show, both of which were musicals.
Diane made a face. She replaced the receiver and folded her hands together, leaning across the desk toward Aurora. “You found yourself a Rusty for the noon show,” she advised. “Get him to finish out the day. After that, we’ll see.”
Aurora nodded quickly. “Thanks, Diane.”
T
he other woman shooed her away with a flick of her fingers before looking at the applicants waiting in her chairs. “You,” she barked at the middle-aged woman sitting closest to her. “Can you yodel?”
Aurora quickly ducked out of the office while the applicant was still stammering.
Being cast as Lila was one of the brightest spots in Aurora’s life right now. If that meant somehow talking Galen into repeating his part in the role of Rusty three more times that day, she was going to do it.
Even if it meant offering to take care of his ranch chores herself!
Chapter Three
“No way.”
It had taken her a solid hour, but Aurora had finally found Galen out by the Twin Rattlers.
The roller coaster was the premier attraction at Cowboy Country, and after a start plagued with mechanical difficulties, it was now running perfectly. The line that wound like a serpentine around the base of the behemoth attested to its popularity.
“No way,” he said again. “I agreed to play Rusty once, and that was enough for me.”
“Galen, please. If you don’t, they’re going to cancel the rest of today’s shows.”
“And what happens if Joey’s not back tomorrow? Or the next day?”
“Diane says they can probably bring in a performer from another one of their locations.”
“Probably.” He gave her a steady look. “That’s not a certainty.”
“No,” she agreed unwillingly. She absolutely didn’t want to share with him just how easily the management could supplant one production with another. “It’s not a certainty.” Her hands latched onto his forearm. “But you did a really good job as Rusty,” she said quickly. “And it wasn’t as awful as you thought it would be, was it?”
His gaze flickered over her hands. “I’ve got other responsibilities, too, kiddo,” he said almost gently.
Fortune's June Bride (Mills & Boon Cherish) (The Fortunes of Texas: Cowboy Country, Book 6) Page 3