“Not with most things. But a girl’s heart is not most things.”
Interesting that she didn’t have much to say about his heart. But before he could point that out—as if he ever would—she’d said, “I’ll expect you in an hour,” and hung up.
He dropped the phone back on the cradle, stifling an oath. Then he went upstairs to his hall bathroom and hooked his fingers around the shower curtain. “Anyone else call besides my mom? There’s a number on the message pad.”
“It’s for Roselyn’s agent.” She tipped her head back into the water spray, her eyes closed as she rinsed away the shampoo. “In case I want more than Horseback Hollow.” Her lips held a wry curve. “Never would have expected that of her.”
Something inside him went still. “You going to use the number?”
She let out a soft snort and shifted her head out of the water. “Everything all right with your mom?”
Her hair streamed like red lava around her shoulders and soap suds were sliding down her hips and thighs. He overlooked the fact that she hadn’t actually answered about the agent. “How do you feel about tamales?”
“Tamales?”
“No euphemism.” He yanked off his shirt. “My sister and Cisco brought some back from his cousin’s place in Red Rock. My mom’s expecting us both.” He kicked off the rest of his clothes and stepped under the water with her.
The close confines of the shower stall meant they had to stand close. By necessity of the heat inside him that he was beginning to think only Aurora could soothe, he brought them even closer.
She caught her breath. “Both? You, uh, you want me to go with you?”
“You want to be the one to tell Jeanne Marie Fortune Jones no?” He turned his back to the spray so the fine work his hands did taking over the soapsudsing business didn’t get washed away before he drove Aurora as crazy as he was feeling.
“No,” she said faintly.
“Me, either. Gonna have to convince her nothing’s going on, though. Or she’ll be tracking down your mama in Alaska to make up a guest list for our wedding.”
“Ha-ha.” Her voice was even fainter and he let the soap fall to the shower floor between their feet.
And then there was no room left at all for thinking about anyone else but Aurora.
* * *
“Did you hear?”
Aurora finished fastening her hairpiece in place and looked around the screen at Frank. It was Monday. The start of another six days of performances. “Hear what?”
“I got the Branson gig.” He stroked his mustache as he glued it in place. “They’re starting an entirely new production there. Rehearsals begin in two weeks.”
“Congratulations.” She couldn’t say that she was going to miss him terribly. Unless he was in his role, he was a pain in the neck. But when he was in his role, he’d done a good job. “You’ll be hard to replace.”
“Harder than Joey,” he agreed absently. “Couldn’t have pulled in just any old cowboy off the street to play my part.”
Galen wasn’t just any old cowboy. But she wasn’t going to debate the point with Frank Richter. She ducked back behind the screen and stared at herself in the narrow slice of mirror. Even with the makeup she’d applied, her sunburned nose still showed through.
“They’ve still got parts to fill,” Frank went on. “At least three female. You ought to give it a shot.”
She frowned and looked back around at him. “In Branson?”
“Yeah.” He was staring at himself in the mirror as he did his familiar series of facial exercises. “Moore Dinner Theatre. Helluva lot better there than Horseback Hollow. Show’s a full hour, for one thing. Not this ten-minute farce business. And even though you don’t fill out a saloon girl’s costume, I heard you can at least dance.”
She made a face and pulled her head back behind the screen, making her feel rather like a turtle, poking her head in and out of her shell. She ran her hands down the sides of her corset wedding dress. Considering the past week, Galen seemed perfectly happy with her slight figure. “I’m not interested in going to Branson.”
“Why not?”
She eyed herself in the mirror. “Because my life is here.” And for the first time in her life, she was entirely glad for that.
For one simple reason. Galen was here.
When they’d arrived at Cowboy Country a short while ago, he’d headed yet again to the casting department to see what was going on about replacing Joey. He hadn’t yet made it to the wardrobe trailer to change.
She wasn’t worried, though, that he wouldn’t make it in time for the show. It took Galen only minutes to prepare.
“You’re wasting yourself here,” Frank said. “Seriously, Rory.”
She made a face at her reflection. “Aurora,” she corrected, even though she knew it would fall on deaf ears. “I’m not interested in Branson,” she said again and wondered what he’d say if he knew she had the personal number for Roselyn St. James’s agent. She’d put it in her wallet, more for posterity’s sake than because she ever intended to use it.
“If you say so.” Frank sounded doubting. She could hear him moving around and the sound of the trailer door opening. “See you at the buckboard.”
When he left, the trailer was silent. She lifted the gold chain from the front of her dress and studied the drugstore ring that nestled against her grandmother’s watch. “You’re in over your head, Aurora,” she told her reflection. The woman looking back at her didn’t appear particularly shocked by the news flash. “Just go with the moment, right? Live for the now? Don’t worry about tomorrow?”
Or next week. Or next year. Or the rest of your life.
“You—” she pointed at her reflection “—are no help at all.”
And you—the reflection pointed back—are losing your marbles if you think sleeping with him means anything more than just that.
Aurora ignored her and left the trailer, heading toward the buckboard to double-check that her veil and microphone headset were there.
She’d only made it halfway, though, when she spotted Galen, walking toward her with Caitlyn Moore and a group of a half dozen others. Suits. Because they definitely didn’t look local, even though most of them were wearing jeans.
Nobody wore jeans as well as Galen.
She smiled and sketched a wave, not wanting to interrupt him when it looked as though he was wearing his “authenticity consultant” hat. And even though he dipped his black Stetson toward her in acknowledgment, he didn’t smile back.
Unease wafted over her as the group neared. Because of the country music playing over the park sound system, she couldn’t make out much of their conversation. Just a few words here and there. The kind of words she assumed jean-wearing “suits” tossed about during business meetings.
A few more feet and the group came level with her. Caitlyn sent her an unusually bright smile and Aurora realized the distinguished-looking man next to her was probably her father, Alden Moore, finally back in town to visit her.
Galen walked by her, close enough to touch if she reached out her hand. And she very nearly did, except it had also dawned on her that Alden Moore wasn’t just visiting his daughter.
According to Roselyn, he was also having a meeting with her two-timing husband.
And suddenly, there he was.
Anthony. Wearing a perfectly tailored gray suit and tie and looking straight at her with a smile on his handsome face that was too familiar after all this time. “Aurora!”
She’d been afraid of what she’d feel seeing him again. Loss. Pain. Anger over what he’d done to her. What Roselyn thought he was doing now.
Strangely, she realized she didn’t feel much of anything, except extremely self-conscious when he broke off from his group and crossed toward her, his hands stretched out.
“Aurora,” he said again when he reached her, and pulled her in for a tight hug she neither expected nor wanted. “My God, look at you. You haven’t changed at all except to grow love
lier.”
She pushed at his arms, feeling her face turn red, because not only Galen was watching, but the rest of them were, as well. “Hello, Anthony.” She dared a quick look past him, but the brim of Galen’s hat was pulled too low for her to see his eyes. “Roselyn mentioned you were meeting with Moore Entertainment.” She’d mentioned a lot more than that, of course, but Aurora had no desire to open up a can of worms that belonged between him and his wife.
“Yeah.” His smile was as blindingly white as Roselyn’s. “I think we have a lot to offer each other.”
He was slightly taller than Galen, with none of the muscular brawn. And there’d been a time when she’d thought she’d spend her life looking into his striking blue eyes.
But he’d never made her feel the way Galen did.
And the realization was more than a little freeing.
“I’m sure you do.” She glanced at Galen again. “Thanks, by the way, for dinner last week. Galen and I were sorry you and Roselyn couldn’t make it, but we...enjoyed ourselves.”
“Ros said Toni was getting a fever. She didn’t want to leave her with anyone. She was fine the next morning, though.”
He obviously figured that was news to her, which probably meant that Roselyn hadn’t told him about her visit the previous day. “That’s good.” She’d wrapped her hand around her locket and the cheap ring without even realizing it. “I don’t want to keep you from your business.”
“You’re right. Mr. Moore’s doing well these days, but I don’t think Caitlyn wants him on his feet for too long.” He leaned down and brushed a kiss over her cheek. “We’ll talk later.”
She managed a noncommittal smile, though she wasn’t foolish enough to respond.
He returned to his group and they continued walking down the backstage area. When they reached the far gate, though, she saw Galen shake Alden Moore’s hand, then turn back toward her.
She shivered a little, despite the sun almost directly overhead, and felt the sharp edges of the costume ring against the inside of her fist.
“I ran into them all when I stopped by the casting department,” he said when he reached her. “Mr. Moore wanted a personal report on how I thought things were coming around here.” He yanked open the trailer door and went inside.
Aurora gnawed her lip and followed. “Are you all right?”
He flipped his black cowboy hat onto a high shelf and yanked his T-shirt over his head. “Are you?”
She stared at the play of muscles in his tanned back. She knew it was suntan, because she’d seen up close and personal just where that tan ended.
If there hadn’t been a tightness in his voice, she’d reach out now and stroke her hand up his spine and over all that beautiful muscle.
But there was a tightness in his voice.
“Why wouldn’t I be all right?”
“I don’t know.” He yanked on Rusty’s shirt and slammed the white cowboy hat on his head. “You just saw the love of your life again.”
His vehemence had her blinking. “He’s not—”
“He didn’t know who I was until Caitlyn, in her infinite good manners, started introducing everyone.”
Unease settled perilously close to dread. “He didn’t—”
“—mention that you and I were newlyweds?” He air-quoted the word. “Fortunately, he managed to avoid saying it outright. But he damn sure left everyone with the impression that we were together.”
She let go of the locket. And the ring. “I’m sorry.”
“Caitlyn, no doubt, will mention the news to Brodie.” His voice was flat as he finished buttoning the shirt and flipped up the collar to pull on the string tie. “It’s only a matter of time before it gets to my parents.”
“And that has you all riled. That your parents might think we’re...together.” After they’d spent two hours with them the evening before over tamales, while Galen had gone out of his way to treat her no differently than he’d treated his sister Delaney.
“I’m not riled.”
“Well, you’re something!”
“Casting still doesn’t have a freaking replacement for Joey.” He jerked the tie into a knot. “I’m stuck in this godfor—” He broke off when the trailer door opened and Cammie and two other girls entered, giggling over something.
Aurora smiled tightly and stepped aside so they could get through.
“If you’ve hated playing Rusty so much,” she said carefully, “why haven’t you stopped?”
He didn’t answer. Just shoved open the trailer door again. “Show’s gonna start in a few minutes.”
She almost didn’t care. Only a semblance of professional pride made her leave the trailer ahead of him. “Galen, I’ll explain what happened. There’s no reason for your family to believe we’re...involved.”
Particularly when he was making it abundantly clear that they were not. No matter what had happened between them over the past week.
“And the love of your life?” His lips were thin. “He got the job, by the way. But it isn’t in Chicago.”
Her stomach started to fall away.
“It’s right here in Horseback Hollow.” He threw out his arm. “Hell, it’s right over there beyond some hedges and a fence. He’s gonna be working on the Cowboy Condo project.”
She stared. “I didn’t know the hotel project was back on track.”
“That’s all you’ve got to say?”
She spread her hands, helplessly. “What do you want me to say? Do you think I knew anything about this? Maybe you’re like Roselyn and think I’m the one he’s messing around with!”
A sharp whistle drew her attention toward the buckboard, where Frank was waving at her impatiently, and Aurora realized the announcer was giving their cue over the loudspeaker. She could see Galen realized it, too.
“I don’t want you to say anything,” he said flatly and turned toward where Cabot was waiting with the horses.
Stymied for a solution to anything, least of all a Galen she couldn’t figure out, she picked up her skirts and ran to the buckboard. She clambered up beside Frank and hastily donned her mic and barely got her veil on before Blackie shot out from the gate.
When she looked back to see Galen, though, and share the same thumbs-up they shared before every show, he wasn’t looking her way at all.
Chapter Twelve
Later, though Aurora wasn’t sure how, they got through all four shows without some fresh disaster falling on her shoulders.
But when it came to climbing in Galen’s truck to go home, she nearly balked.
Did she just tell him outright to drop her off at her own place?
Did she wait to see if he automatically took her to his the way he’d been doing for days now?
She did neither.
She just climbed up in the seat beside him and stared out the window, not saying anything.
They drove past the hotel construction site that, for the past few months at least, had been surrounded by chain link while the unfinished framing itself sat abandoned to everything but the weeds sprouting up around it.
She closed her eyes against the sight.
And when she felt the truck bounce over a cattle guard several minutes later, she had one answer at least.
Because Galen was driving up to her place.
He stopped at the base of the hill, but didn’t put the truck in Park. Didn’t turn it off. Just hit the brakes and eventually the tires stopped crunching over the graveled drive as they rolled to a stop. “You need a ride to Cowboy Country tomorrow?”
She breathed slowly through the hollowness that yawned open inside her.
Because there was her other answer.
“I’ve got the truck.” Feeling older than she should, she pushed open the door and slid out. “Thanks for the ride.” The words sounded choked, but there was nothing she could do about that, except slam the door shut and hurry up the hill to her front door.
Once she got behind the privacy of that, she could fall apart.
He waited, though, until she reached the front door and fumbled with the damn fool key, because he’d insisted she start locking it, so she had.
She finally managed to unlock it, though, and stumbled inside, slamming the door shut behind her so she didn’t have to hear him drive away, too.
“Should have paid more attention to the woman in the mirror,” she said thickly.
Then she sat down on the floor and cried.
* * *
The next afternoon, Galen stared at the blonde coming out of the wardrobe trailer wearing Aurora’s wedding gown.
He’d deliberately gone by to pick up his Rusty gear earlier, just so he wouldn’t run into her any sooner than he had to.
But now there was another woman wearing her costume?
He looked at Cabot. “Who the hell is that?”
Cabot shrugged. “Sophie somebody-or-other.”
He ground his molars together. “She’s wearing Aurora’s costume.”
Cabot gave him a strange look. “Looks like. Maybe she called in sick or something.”
“And this Sophie just magically appears?”
“She’s Aurora’s understudy. Think she usually dances in the saloon show.”
He felt like something had shaken loose in his brains. “Aurora has an understudy? Why didn’t Joey have one?”
“Rusty’s a bit part in comparison to hers. Same as mine,” Cabot said. “You gonna be all right?”
No, he wasn’t going to be all right. The only reason he was doing this infernal show was for Aurora’s benefit.
And now she wasn’t even there?
The theme music was already playing and Cabot was swinging up into his saddle. “We’re gonna miss our cue if you don’t get a move on.”
Galen swore under his breath and mounted Blaze.
The next ten minutes, give or take, were some of the worst Galen had ever experienced. He plowed through it with grim determination, pledging Rusty’s troth to an unfamiliar Lila who didn’t smell like flowers or smile with her whole body.
Fortune's June Bride (Mills & Boon Cherish) (The Fortunes of Texas: Cowboy Country, Book 6) Page 16