Fortune's June Bride. Allison Leigh

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Fortune's June Bride - Allison  Leigh

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for that rainy day, right?”

      “Right,” he said wryly.

      He glanced around the area. There were at least fifty people lined up for the Twin Rattlers. He’d only jotted down two items for his daily report for Caitlyn. It was a huge improvement over the pages-long reports he’d started out with only a week earlier.

      Caitlyn had wanted to make the park everything that her father, Alden Moore—a huge John Wayne fan—had ever dreamed of creating, and Galen was beginning to think Caitlyn might just pull it off. Considering she’d been summarily handed the job to get the place up and running when her daddy had some health troubles, Galen had to give her a lot of credit. She’d also lassoed one of Galen’s new cousins, Brodie Fortune Hayes, along the way.

      “Everything seems to be turning up roses these days, doesn’t it?”

      Aurora’s words seemed to echo his own thoughts and before he knew it, “Want to grab that root beer?” came out of his mouth.

      She smiled. And he realized that when she did, it seemed to show all over her entire person. From her eyes that seemed even brighter a blue, to her toes, which she went up on a little. “That sounds great.”

      “You always were a good kid.” He wasn’t sure what made him say the words. Except that, maybe, he was noticing the way the sunlight was shining through her dress, outlining the slender figure underneath. “Even Mark used to say so.”

      Her smile dimmed a little. Not on her lips.

      But in her eyes.

      “That’s me,” she said in a tone he couldn’t quite read. “The good kid.” She gestured at the line of people waiting for the roller coaster as they left it behind. “Have you ridden it yet?”

      “Nah.”

      “You like roller coasters, though, don’t you?” She gave him a sideways look. “Every time the fair came through when we were kids, you and my brother were all over the thrill rides.”

      He took her arm briefly as they stepped up onto the boardwalk, continuing down Main Street. Unlike other redheads Galen knew, the only freckles on Aurora that he could see were a few spots across her nose. The rest of her seemed to be a smooth, creamy gold.

      What he could see, anyway.

      He shoved his hand into his pocket, reminding himself not to ponder too long or too well about what he couldn’t see.

      He’d never had trouble with the opposite sex, but since he had no intention of joining the passel of folks in his family taking the marriage bit between their teeth, he didn’t tend to get involved with women who were right there under their noses.

      In a small town, things got complicated in a hurry when a person did that. Wondering too hard what all delights Aurora McElroy hid beneath that pretty dress was a sure way to invite those kinds of complications.

      And he liked things just fine the way they were.

      “I don’t think I’m much of one for loop-the-loops anymore,” he said. “I’m a whole lot older than I used to be.”

      She snorted softly. “Please. You’re thirty-four. Same age—”

      “As Mark would have been,” he finished when she broke off.

      Her lips twisted. “Yes.” She fell silent for a moment, watching a little girl nearby purchase a huge yellow helium balloon from one of the street vendors. “It’s strange,” she finally said, once the girl dashed off with the balloon bobbing in the air after her, “the more I don’t want to think about him, the more I seem to dwell on him.”

      He couldn’t help himself. He slid his hand against the back of her slender neck. “I’ve got six brothers and sisters. I can’t imagine losing one of them.” Particularly in such a senseless way as getting behind the wheel of a big-ass pickup truck when he was three sheets to the wind drunk. “Maybe talking more about him will help the dwelling.”

      She exhaled loudly and shook her head as though she was shaking off a bothersome fly. “He died a long time ago.” She pointed. “Looks like the lunch rush has hit the Foaming Barrel.”

      Sure enough, a line extended from the popular concession stand and Aurora had tugged her locket watch out from inside her sundress. “I don’t think we’ve got time to wait before we need to get set for the next show. Rain check?”

      “Sure.”

      She gave him that winning, whole-body smile again and started walking back the way they’d come.

      Galen settled his hat down harder on his head and shoved his hands back into his pockets and away from...complications. Then he followed Aurora as she made her way from Main Street to the backstage area once again.

      The space around the costume trailer was considerably busier now than it had been earlier. A half dozen leggy women were sitting on top of the picnic table, looking like a rainbow, dressed as they were in their colorful ruffled saloon-girl getups. Frank—handlebar mustache already in place—was hanging over one buxom girl in particular. She looked a lot more receptive to him than Aurora had earlier.

      Galen followed Aurora into the trailer. It was now crowded not only with the racks of clothes and props he’d already seen, but bodies in various stages of undress, as well.

      Maybe it was the hick in him, but he couldn’t help doing a double take at one young woman, only realizing belatedly that she wasn’t quite naked. The nude-colored bodysuit she wore just made her look like it as she stepped into a flaming red ruffled dress. She obviously had no problem not stepping behind the changing screen that was situated at one end of the trailer.

      He realized he was sweating a little as he reached for Rusty’s shirt and tie where he’d left them hanging, until he saw Aurora step safely behind the screen and he breathed a little easier.

      Until a moment later when her white sundress was flung up to drape over the top of the changing screen and his temperature seemed to shoot up several notches.

      He grabbed Rusty’s white hat and brushed past several bodies, clomping down the trailer steps. Out in the open, he pulled in a long breath and exchanged his T-shirt for Rusty’s button-down once again.

      “Galen Jones, I thought that was you.” One of the saloon girls had left the picnic table and was sashaying toward him in frilly peacock blue. Her hair was a pile of blond curls down the back of her head. “Serena Morris!” She patted her hand against her tightly fitted bodice, smiling widely. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember me. I’ll be crushed forever.”

      “Serena?” He squinted at her face. Then couldn’t help but laugh. “Last I saw you, you were—”

      “—nine years old and mad as hops that my folks were moving us to Missouri.” She propped her hand on her shapely hip and grinned. “You look just the same.”

      He spread his hands wryly. “And here I thought the last two and a half decades might’ve made some difference.”

      She laughed. “What can I say? A girl never forgets her first kiss. You’ll always be nine years old in my eyes.” Her humorous gaze looked past him and Galen realized Aurora

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