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 Mark. 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
