Fortune's June Bride (Mills & Boon Cherish) (The Fortunes of Texas: Cowboy Country, Book 6) (16 page)

“Dammit, Del,”
he barked
. “What?”

Cisco suddenly pushed Delaney behind him. “Back off, Galen,” he said tightly. “You don’t talk to Delaney like that. Not when I’m around.”

“Hold on to your chaps, folks,”
the announcer boomed over the loudspeaker,
“’cause there’s a hog-tying good time happening in just a few minutes down on Main Street with Wild West Wedding!”

The cue for their show.

He wanted to swear.

Instead, he eyed Cisco, who for the first time had just earned some honest respect in Galen’s eyes. “You’re right.” He looked past him to his baby sister. “Sorry.”

She just watched him with concern. “It’s okay,” she said faintly.

The theme music for
Wedding
had started and Galen knew he had about three minutes to haul his butt backstage or Lila wouldn’t have a Rusty to rescue her at all. “I gotta go—”

“Then go!” Delaney shooed him with her hands.

He set off toward the corner side street, grateful that he was at least closest to the gate Rusty and Sal the Sheriff used.

“She’s wrong.” Anthony’s voice carried after him even over the loud music. “Roselyn’s wrong.”

Galen didn’t slow, though he looked over his shoulder. “Don’t tell me. Tell
her
.”

Then he dismissed the man from his mind and broke into a run, careering around the corner just as the gate ahead of him started to open and the first of Frank’s goons pranced out on an excited horse.

He ran flat out and nearly vaulted onto Blaze’s back just inside the gate. He took the reins that Cabot handed him.

And then they were chasing down Main Street all over again.

After the wrong Lila.

Chapter Thirteen

“T
hanks, Laurel.” Aurora descended the steps of the small charter jet that had been piloted by Laurel Redmond Fortune.

The tall, blue-eyed blonde smiled. “Was the flight as bad as you expected?”

Aurora smiled ruefully and shook her head. “I didn’t expect it to be
bad
. I’ve just never been on a small jet like this before.” She stepped onto the pavement where the sleek airplane was parked near the hangar housing the flight school and charter service Laurel ran with her husband, Sawyer Fortune. “I still can’t believe we made it to Branson and back in a single day.” It was too late for the six o’clock show, but if she wanted, she had ample time to make it to Cowboy Country for the last performance of
Wedding
for the day.

If
she wanted. Playing Lila was one thing. Seeing Galen after the way they’d left things the day before was another.

Having left without giving him any warning about her understudy, Sophie, wasn’t going to help any, either.

“The advantages of a charter service,” Laurel was saying as they headed toward the hangar. She unzipped the front of her khaki-colored jumpsuit, revealing a plain white tank top, and tugged her arms right out of the jumpsuit sleeves, leaving the top of it hanging down from the elastic-cinched waist. “Even with the breeze, it’s still hot. Those clouds up there are like a blanket, holding the heat in. One of the things I miss since we moved to Horseback Hollow from Red Rock is easy access to a swimming pool,” she said ruefully.

“You need a few hours at Hollow Springs.”

“Someone was mentioning that place the other day. Who was it? Oh. Jensen Fortune Chesterfield. He’s been up there with his girlfriend, Amber.”

Jensen. Brother of Amelia. Making him a cousin of Galen’s as well as Laurel’s husband, Sawyer, though she’d be hard-pressed to figure out the exact branches of that particular family tree. “Lot of Fortunes around,” she murmured, then flushed at the amused look she earned from Laurel.

“They do seem to have come out of the woodwork,” she agreed. She pulled open a metal door and a rush of cool air-conditioned air blew out over them. “Hey, Matteo,” she greeted as one of her pilots also came out the door. “Heading home?”

The handsome man grinned, though his long pace didn’t slow. “Picking up Rachel at the office and heading out for a picnic at Hollow Springs,” he said over his shoulder.

Laurel laughed, giving Aurora a wry look. “I
am
going to have to get Sawyer out there, obviously. So are you really going to be working at that dinner theater in Branson?”

Aurora lifted her shoulder. “I don’t know.” When she’d seen Diane that morning, the casting agent had insisted Aurora “hop over for a look-see.” She’d booked the charter flight without giving Aurora the chance to protest.

At least going to Branson, Missouri, had given her some breathing room before she’d need to face Galen again. But just because she’d met with the producer and director for the new production they were mounting at the popular dinner theater didn’t mean she’d be offered anything. She’d actually spent more time on the plane with Laurel going and coming than she had in the popular vacation destination.

“Pretty flattering to be considered, I imagine.”

Aurora nodded. “This is embarrassing, but should I be tipping you or something?”

Laurel laughed and shook her head. “We have a contract with Moore Entertainment.” Her eyes danced. “All
you
need to do is pass on the word that you were very satisfied with the service we provided.”

“That I can do.” It had been a day trip only, so she had no luggage or anything. Just her purse and her meager portfolio. “Thanks again,” she said before heading over to her truck, which she’d left in the small parking lot next to the hangar.

It was stifling hot inside and she rolled down the windows, her thoughts returning to Hollow Springs with Galen.

Sighing, she drove away from the small airfield. Past the cemetery. The hotel construction site. The parking lot lights for Cowboy Country were visible when she suddenly turned around on the highway and drove back to the cemetery.

She parked in the small parking lot, and even though it had been a decade, she easily found her brother’s marker located on a gentle grassy ridge, and stared at the inscription.
Beloved Son.

Her eyes burned and she knelt down in the grass, swiping her hand over the granite, brushing away the dust and a sweet gum leaf that was clinging to the surface.

“What do you think, Mark?” Her voice sounded loud in the silence. “Branson? Call Roselyn’s agent? Give performing a real shot?” She flicked away another leaf, then turned around and lay down beside the marker, staring up the sky. “You broke their hearts,” she whispered. Her chest ached. “You broke mine.”

She sniffed and watched the clouds Laurel had complained about drift overhead. “If you were here, I’d kick your butt.” She sniffed again, her vision blurring. “If you were here.”

She closed her eyes, throwing her arm over them. In her mind, she could hear her brother’s laughter.
You could try
, he would have said.

She inhaled a raw breath. “If you were here...” She lowered her arm and stared at the sky. The clouds. “I’d tell you I miss you.”

A welcome breeze drifted over her, bringing another sweet-gum leaf from the trees that dotted the small cemetery. She caught it, midair, twirling the deep green leaf by the tiny stem. “Remember how you used to throw sweet-gum seed pods at me? I think Daddy even grounded you once for it.”

And you never got caught even when you put a pile of them in my bed.

She smiled faintly through her tears. “You’d like Horseback Hollow these days. Particularly Cowboy Country. All those pretty saloon girls.” The tiny stem felt uneven as she rolled it between her thumb and finger. “Cammie would never give Frank Richter a second glance if she saw you first.” Tall. Auburn-haired with a devilish smile and a sense of humor to match.

The image in her head wavered like a flag blowing in the wind.

She exhaled deeply and stared at the leaf. When she lifted her hand and released the tiny stem, the vaguely star-shaped leaf caught the breeze just long enough to land on the granite marker.

“If you were here,” she said, sighing, “I’d tell you I love you.”

Then she just lay there on grass that was cooler than the air around them, watching the clouds slowly drift in the sky. And when she pulled on the gold chain and checked the time on her grandmother’s watch locket hanging beside the drugstore ring, and saw that it was now too late to make it to the last show of the night, she finally rolled onto her knees again.

The sweet-gum leaf was still sitting on her brother’s marker. She smiled a little and left it there.

Then she got back in her daddy’s truck and drove home.

* * *

The next morning, Aurora knew the moment that Galen entered the wardrobe trailer even though she was behind the changing screen.

There was an unmistakable shift in the air.

And she was glad for the meager protection the screen provided as she carefully pulled up the zipper on her dress because there was a new batch of fraying threads after Sophie’s use of the costume the day before.

“Frank.” She heard his deep voice greet their cast mate.

“Galen.”

She pressed her lips together a moment, almost but not quite able to be amused at the brief male exchange.

She heard the slide of drawers. The shuffle of hangers. All too vividly imagined Galen’s bare chest before he pulled on Rusty’s shirt. His thick dark brown hair before he replaced his own black Stetson with Rusty’s white one.

She didn’t even realize she was holding her breath until she heard the trailer door open and close again, signaling his exit.

She blew out a low breath. Checked the zipper under her arm one more time, and the buttons on her old-fashioned boots. She already had on the hairpiece of ringlets and was as ready for the first show of the day as she could be.

Which meant hanging out behind the changing screen was the same thing as hiding.

She slipped from behind the screen, then felt the world’s axis seem to tilt a little.

Because it wasn’t Frank standing in front of the big mirror, gelling up his eyebrows and admiring his reflection.

It was Galen, leaning back against the bank of drawers, his arms crossed over his wide chest.

“Hi,” she said on a puff of air.

“Wondered how long you were going to hide back there.”

She flushed. “I wasn’t hiding.”

His lips twisted. “I knew you were here. I parked right next to your truck in the parking lot.”

“Oh.” In the lexicon of brilliant responses, that had to be right up near the top.

“Congratulations.” He shifted, unfolding his arms to cup his big palms over the edge of the drawers on either side of him. The position made his wide shoulders seem even wider. “Hear you and Frank are heading off to Branson.”

Her mouth felt unaccountably dry. “That’s a little premature. Frank’s going. I’d need to be offered a part first.”

His eyes were unreadable. “Have it on good authority that’s a foregone conclusion.”

She swiped her hands down the sides of her dress, fussing a little with the way the lace was lying. “Says who?”

“Diane in casting.”

“Oh.” There was that brilliant response again.

He was silent for a moment. From outside the trailer, she could hear the muffled sounds of voices and the clip-clop of horse hooves. “She found a new Rusty.”

She actually felt a little faint. “What? Just like that?”

His lips twisted. “Just like that.” He shifted slightly. “And I think Caitlyn’s got no reason to worry anymore about Cowboy Country’s authenticity.”

“Finally earned an A?”

“I can hang up Rusty and my clipboard after today.”

“You must be relieved.”

He nodded once, his expression unsmiling. “So, you gonna go to Branson?”

She chewed the inside of her cheek. “I...I’d need to talk with my parents first.”

“They’ll be back in a few days.”

She nodded jerkily and started to nervously pull out her watch locket, but narrowly remembered not to. Instead, she imagined the feel of the silly drugstore ring burning against her breast. “I have to pick them up from the airport in Lubbock Friday night. After the last show.”

“And? Are you gonna go?” he asked again.

“Do—” She broke off and swallowed the knot in her throat. “Do you think I should?”

His jaw shifted to one side, then slowly centered. “That’s not something for me to say.”

Her chest hollowed out. “That’s answer enough,” she managed huskily.

He looked pained. “Aurora—”

She lifted her hand. “It’s okay, Galen. We are who we are and nothing can change that.” He loved being a rancher more than anything else.

It was only her lot in life to realize she loved him more than anything else.

She couldn’t look at him and swiped her hands down her skirt again. “I’d better make sure my mic and veil are in the buckboard. It’s almost time to start.”

He nodded silently.

It took everything she possessed to move past him to the door. To circle the knob with her sweaty palm and actually get the thing open without fumbling with it.

He followed her outside, but headed over to the picnic table where Serena was standing, stretching out over her foot propped on the top of the table.

His pretty first-kiss girl gave him a wide smile.

Aurora looked away and headed to the buckboard. The mic and veil were just an excuse. The production crew would already have ensured everything was where it belonged, regardless of
who
last wore Lila’s costume.

Frank was already sitting on the buckboard bench and he knocked his shoulder against hers when she climbed up next to him. “Branson, here we come.” He angled his head toward hers. “Got some good times ahead for us, Rory.”

She couldn’t even summon enough interest for her usual annoyance. “Why does everyone assume I want to go?”

“Because why
wouldn’t
you?”

Why indeed?

Only exercising more self-control than she knew she possessed kept her from looking back at Galen.

“How long have you wanted to be a performer, Frank?” Because that’s what they were. There was no serious acting going on here. Just good old entertainment for a crowd.

“Ever since I can remember.” He toyed with the white roses on the band of her veil. “I like the applause,” he murmured, then gave her a leering smile. “And the girls.”

Her lips stretched. “You remind me a little of my brother.”

He gave a wounded laugh and slid his arm around her shoulders, leaning his face close to hers. “That is
not
what I like hearing.”

She rolled her eyes and lifted his arm off her. “How’s Cammie taking the news of your leaving?”

“Devastated, of course.” He twirled his handlebar mustache.

“In other words, she’s already moving on,” Aurora translated.

“Some kid with a Mohawk who works on the Twin Rattlers line.”

She actually found a chuckle from somewhere at that. “Glad you’re not suffering a broken heart.”

He smiled wryly. “What about you? Performing in your blood, too?”

She heard the phrase “hog-tying” over the loudspeaker, and pulled on her mic piece. “I used to think it was.” She fit on the tight veil. “It’s fun, but—” She broke off and shrugged. Now it was just a poor substitute for everything that really mattered.

And for once, when Frank dropped his arm around her shoulder and squeezed, she let him.

Because in the end, he was harmless. It took a man like Galen to make a true impact.

An impact she was going to carry for the rest of her days whether she went to Branson or not.

“We’ll give ’em a helluva show,” Frank said in her ear.

“Sure thing, Frank.” She smiled. “Why not?”

Watching from behind them, Galen’s hands tightened on Blaze’s reins at the sight of Frank and Aurora’s heads so close together. Tightened so much so, the horse started backing up.

He immediately released, and the horse stopped and bobbed his head a few times. “Sorry, pal.”