Fortune's June Bride (Mills & Boon Cherish) (The Fortunes of Texas: Cowboy Country, Book 6) (5 page)

“Keep your apron on, Jeanne Marie,” Deke returned without heat. “We’re getting there.”

Even across the spacious yard, they could hear her harrumph before she let the screen door slap shut again.

In accord, Galen and Deke began walking back across the lawn toward the two-story house that seemed way too small to have housed the large family they’d had. Not even learning she had a wealthy brother and even wealthier sister had changed anything about Jeanne Marie—namely, her love for her relatively simple life with Deke and their offspring.

“How’d you know Ma was the one?”

Deke squinted at him again. “Who is she? This girl you don’t got troubles with?”

“Nobody.” He yanked at his shirt collar. He was wearing one of his dress shirts—the ones he sent to the laundry to get cleaned and ironed—because he hadn’t had anything else in his closet that didn’t smell of sweat or dirt or cow manure. “Can’t a man be curious?”

Deke smiled briefly and clapped Galen hard on the back. “I knew your ma was the one when I couldn’t look at her without imagining her wearing a white wedding dress. Lot of men imagine a woman wearing nothing at all. Second nature, I guess.” He nodded sagely. “But when he starts imagining her wearing a wedding dress? That’s when you know you’re dealing with a whole different kettle of fish. That what you want to know?”

Galen smiled weakly. “I don’t want to think about you imagining
anyone
nekkid,” he drawled with feeling, and reached out for the screen door when they reached it. “’Specially my mama.”

His father’s low laughter followed him.

Chapter Four

“Y
o, Galen.” Frank Richter stepped out of the trailer after their final show for the day. “Everyone’s heading over to the Two Moon to grab a beer. Interested?”

Galen shook his head. After doing nine days of shows—thirty-six episodes of rescuing Lila from the villain’s clutches—he was more interested in heading to the welcome silence his own house offered. “Burning the candle at both ends has a price,” he excused. “Got chores waiting.”

“At eight-thirty?” Frank was rolling up the sleeves of his black shirt until they were just so. “That’s a crying shame. Friday nights ought to be for things a lot more fun.” A movement from the trailer behind them drew his attention. “Like her,” he said, nodding toward Aurora as she came down the steps wearing cutoff denims and a sleeveless plaid shirt. Her red hair streamed down from the ponytail at the back of her head.

“Thought you were seeing that little gal from the saloon show.”

“And your point?” Frank’s white teeth flashed. “Only thing better than one good-looking woman in your arms is two of them. They’d be fine bookends, wouldn’t they? Sweet, curvy little Cammie on one side and lean, mean Rory on the other?” He rubbed his hands together. “Talk about anticipation.”

“She doesn’t like being called Rory,” Galen said evenly. Since he’d found his boots sinking into Cowboy Country like quicksand, he’d learned it was easier to ignore Frank than get riled over every stupid thing that came out of his mouth. Far as Galen was concerned, there weren’t enough hours in the day to spend ’em being annoyed by an idiot. “But you’re right about one thing,” he added abruptly. “A cold one at the Two Moon sounds good.”

Suiting his words to action, he pulled his truck keys from his front pocket and let his path intercept Aurora’s. “You heading over to the Two Moon Saloon?”

She jumped a little, like he’d startled her. “Um...yes.” She pushed her fingertips into the front pockets of her cutoffs. They weren’t all that short; his little sisters wore cutoffs that bared a whole lot more leg, but he’d never found himself getting distracted by the amount of thigh they’d exposed as he was finding himself now. “You?”

“Thought I might.” He dragged his attention upward. Aurora might be lean, as Frank said, but she was built with the deceptive delicacy of a Thoroughbred racehorse. And Galen had always appreciated good lines. In a horse or a woman. “Need a ride?”

Her lips parted slightly. “Ah...sure. I usually hitch a ride with the mayor.”

“Better Harlan than Frank,” Galen muttered.

Aurora chuckled at that. “Just because I’m a small-town girl doesn’t mean I’m a dolt. One dose of Frank’s octopus arms was enough for me.”

Galen shot her a look. “What’s that supposed to mean? He’s made a pass at you?”

She gave him an odd look. “Frank makes a pass at every female walking.” She knelt down quickly to retie the shoelace on her plain white tennis shoes, and the back of her shirt rode up slightly, revealing an inch of smooth skin above the low waist of her shorts.

Galen ran his hand around the back of his neck, looking belatedly away.

Then she rose again as if she’d never stopped. “I think it’s in his DNA or something,” she continued. “A nuisance, but hard to take anything about him too seriously.” She tugged out her locket watch and angled it toward the light shining down from the overhead poles. “If we hurry, we’ll still be able to get hot wings on the happy hour menu. They’re half price.”

Nothing at the Two Moon Saloon was all that pricy. It would’ve never stayed in business otherwise. The place was attached to the Horseback Hollow Grill, and what it served up was long on cheap burgers and a helluva grilled cheese, and way short on ambiance. If a person wanted that, they went to the Hollows Cantina that had opened only last year.

“Half-price wings it is.” He jangled his truck key. “I’m in the employee lot.” They followed in the path of other cast members making their way through the circuitous backstage area circling Cowboy Country’s perimeter. “Your parents left yet on their cruise?”

“Sunday morning,” she told him with a quick smile. “They leave out of San Francisco, so I’ll drop them at the airport in Lubbock tomorrow morning and be back in time for the noon show. They’re pretty excited. Mama especially. She’s always wanted to see Alaska.”

The walkway narrowed between the back of a building on one side and the high hedges blocking off the fence on the other, separating the park from what was supposed to have been a hotel project before it’d been shelved because of construction and design issues, and he waited so she could walk ahead of him. “I’ll bet.”

“They’ll be cruising part of the time, and land-touring part of the time,” she said over her shoulder. “Daddy figures it’s the best of both worlds, because he’s not all that sure he’ll like being cooped up on a boat for nearly two weeks.” Her grin was impish in the dwindling light. “The cruise ship is like a floating city. Probably bigger than Horseback Hollow. Cooped up.” She laughed a little, shaking her head. “What about you? Anywhere you dream of going?”

“To see a Super Bowl?”

She laughed. “Come on. Seriously.”

The path widened out again and he came abreast of her. “I am serious. Where else would I rather be than here in Texas?”

“Football and cows being your ultimate fantasy, I guess.”

“Well, shoot, honey. Didn’t know we were talking
fantasy
,” he drawled before he thought better of it. They were passing beneath another light pole and her cheeks looked as if they’d turned red. Which left him feeling like a jackass and awkward as hell. He cleared his throat. “What about you?” That wasn’t any better. “About Alaska, I mean. Didn’t you want to go?”

“With my parents on a cruise? I love ’em, but no thank you. Bad enough I’m still single and living at home with them.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“At my age?” She made a tsking sound. “Please. How old were you when you moved out on your own?”

“That’s different.”

They’d reached the security gate leading out to the parking lot and she gave him a look as they passed through. “Why on earth is it different?”

He lifted a shoulder, wishing to hell all over again that he’d kept his mouth shut. It’d been easy for him to go out on his own. He was the eldest of seven kids. When he’d left the nest, his mama had still had a half dozen chicks left to fuss over.

Thanks to Mark’s death, Aurora’s parents had only her.

“So where
is
your dream vacation?” he asked instead of answering.

She spread her arms. “Anywhere other than here.”

She’d smiled as she said it, but he could see the truth beneath it. And he remembered good and well Mark laughing way back when about his kid sister’s “big city” dreams. “I remember you went off to college for a few years.” He gestured toward his pickup truck parked at the far corner of the lot. “Where was it?”

“UCLA.”

“Guess you probably got a good taste of city life in Los Angeles.”

She waited while a car passed them. Galen recognized Frank behind the wheel with a few of the saloon dancers in his passenger seats.

“Two years was a pretty short taste, in the span of the rest of my life spent here,” she said.

He studied her profile. The gentle point of her chin. The fine line of her narrow nose that was just a shade too long, making it all the more interesting. And the pale pink lips that he’d pretended to kiss thirty-damn-six times now. “Would you go back to California if you had the chance?”

She gave him a rueful look. “Maybe I’ll go on a vacation there someday.”

He didn’t know why her answer sat so wrong, but it did. “If you hate it here, why don’t you go? There is such a thing as hiring ranch hands, you know.”

Her eyebrows rose. “I never said I hated it here.” Her hands spread again. “I’m a Texas girl. Horseback Hollow is my home. I love my folks. Maybe if Mark hadn’t died, I would have ended up somewhere else. But he did. My parents needed me more than I needed to follow some pipe dream that would probably have never gotten me any further than—” she thought for a moment “—than teaching high school drama classes.” She started across the parking lot again. “Being away at college wasn’t all that perfect, either. Don’t expect it ever is for anyone.”

“Texas A&M was pretty perfect in my eyes.”

She grinned. “What a good Texas son you are. Bet you have Aggie pennants pinned on your bedroom walls.”

He snorted. “Basement.”

She laughed outright, and just like her smile, it seemed to show in her entire body.

He much preferred her in smiles and laughter over that solemn, vaguely fatalistic acceptance of her life’s path.

In silence, they crossed the rest of the parking lot to his truck. He started to open the passenger door for her, but she beat him to it, climbing up handily inside.

So he rounded the front of the vehicle and got behind the wheel.

“This is nice.” She was running her hand over her leather seat.

“It does the job.” He started the ignition and worked his way through the parking lot. Even though their show was done for the day, the rest of the attractions would still be going strong until the park closed for the day. Which meant there were a passel of employees still at work and the lot was more full than not.

“My mother tried talking Daddy into buying a new truck instead of going on their trip.” She crossed one leg over the other, and the toe of her tennis shoe bounced in time to the George Strait tune coming from the radio. “I’m glad he stuck to his guns even if it means driving that old Ford for a few more years.”

He didn’t have to work hard at recalling she was contributing to the cost of her folks’ trip. It was one of the reasons he’d caved when it came to playing Rusty. That, and not being a cause of Aurora’s disappointment. “If you need any help at your place while they’re gone, just let me know.”

She gave him an arch look. “And why would I let you help me, when you wouldn’t let me help you?” Her eyebrows rose a little higher. “Don’t confuse me with Lila, Galen Fortune Jones. I’m not sitting around waiting to get rescued. I may not be as strong physically as you are, but I can work just as hard.”

“Whoa there, Nelly.” He waved his hand in surrender. “I’m not saying you can’t. It’s just a—” he thought for a moment “—a neighborly offer. One I’d make to anyone.”

She pressed her lips together and nodded once. “That’s better,” she muttered.

He bit back a smile that even he knew wouldn’t be well received and turned the truck toward the Two Moon. “You guys get together a lot at the Moon?”

“The cast and crew, you mean? Maybe once a week, if that.” Her toe tapped a few times. “Haven’t seen Serena there, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Wh— Oh. Serena. I wasn’t.” He ran his tongue against the edge of his molars and wondered why
she
was wondering.

“Wasn’t she the first girl you kissed?”

He couldn’t stop the bark of laughter. “Well, yeah. But I was
nine
. At the time, I think I was more curious about whether or not our braces would get stuck together.”

She muffled her laughter with her hand. “You were not.”

He tried thinking back, and nodded. “Nope. No, yeah. I think I was. Your brother was the one who was more interested in copping a feel from a girl, even if she didn’t have anything yet to feel.”

“Sounds like Mark.” She tugged her ponytail over her shoulder and started working it into a loose braid. “Ever since I could remember, excess was his thing.”

And excess had been the end of him.

Galen caught her hand in his and squeezed. “What about
your
first kiss?” A few seconds too late, he remembered to let go of her hand again. “And don’t tell me it was with one of my brothers. I’m already privy to more of their romantic lives than I like.”

She folded her hands in her lap and seemed to be studying them. But at least she was smiling again, as he’d hoped. “No. It wasn’t.” She waited a beat. “Quinn Drummond, actually. He was only a year ahead of me.”

“That’s almost as bad as one of my brothers.”

She smiled a little. “We were in junior high. Under the bleachers after a school dance.”

“Please don’t feel the need to share any more gory details. I see Quinn all the time.”

“’Specially now he’s married to your cousin,
Lady
Amelia?”

“She doesn’t much like getting called Lady Amelia anymore’n you like getting called Rory.” Which was the name that her brother had always called her, just because he’d known it always got her goat. It was enough to make Galen feel guilty for the way he used to tease his own little sisters. For that matter, the way he sometimes still did.

When he reached the Two Moon Saloon, the small parking lot was already crowded, so he parked in a dirt lot nearby. Inside the bar, it wasn’t any better. But the Cowboy Country crowd had still managed to scope out a few long tables, and Galen followed Aurora through the crush of bodies.

He pulled off his hat and leaned over her. “I remember a time not too long ago when this place didn’t have this much business in a month of Sundays combined.”

“Right?” She looked up at him, and stumbled a bit.

He quickly moved the chair she’d bumped into out of their path and tried not to notice the way her hair smelled like flowers even at the end of a long day. A pointless exercise, since he noticed, anyway. “Crowded in here.” Their heads were so close, he could have kissed her.

And maybe she realized it, because she gave a weak smile and stepped back, adding a good foot to the two inches separating their mouths.

He wanted to kick himself.

She was Mark’s kid sister. She probably figured Galen was no better than Frank.

He jerked his chin toward the bar. “I’m going to get an order in, kiddo. You go on ahead.”

Aurora swallowed the protest that rose too quickly to her lips. She still felt shaky from finding herself that close to Galen.

Which was silly, since she ought to be used to it by now after nine whole days of playing Lila to his Rusty. Instead of becoming accustomed to him sweeping her against him four times a day, though, it was turning into a slow sort of torture.