Fortune's June Bride. Allison Leigh

shoulders and squeezed. With his free hand, he twirled one side of his fake mustache and leered at her. “Ready to become my wifey, my dear?”

      Aurora’s smile thinned a little. She unhooked Frank’s arm from her shoulders and stepped away from him. “Save it for the crowd, Frank.” She sent Galen a smile and marched ahead of them to climb into a buckboard that would carry them down the center of Main Street while the guests were safely held back from the action with ropes carried by security guards dressed as old-time railroad workers.

      As he watched, she worked a small headset into her riotous curls and he felt a fresh wave of misgivings. That headset was a microphone. She followed up the headset with a lacy veil held onto her head by a band of white roses.

      “Rory likes playing hard to get,” Frank was telling Galen in a man-to-man tone that set Galen’s teeth on edge. “Makes the gettin’ all that much more fun.”

      Galen eyed Frank, realizing he wore a tiny microphone, as well. “Am I gonna have to wear one of those?”

      “Nah. Your important lines are picked up by the stage mics. Just remember they don’t kill the audio until right before you kiss Lila.” He clapped Galen on the shoulder. “Break a leg,” he said before sauntering ahead to climb up beside Aurora. She had her head tilted back, seeming to be looking up at the sky.

      Another young man whom Galen didn’t know handed Frank the reins for the horse’s harness, then moved up to the front to lead the horse around toward a wide gate that he swung open.

      Over the loudspeaker, a deep-voiced announcer was telling all comers to hold on to their chaps ’cause they were in for a hog-tying good time down on Main Street.

      On cue, Aurora looked back at Galen and gave him an encouraging thumbs-up. Then Frank flicked the reins and the buckboard rattled out of the gate just as adventurous music blasted over the loudspeakers. A moment later, Galen could hear Aurora’s and Frank’s voices as the show began in earnest.

      “Good grief,” he muttered, feeling a strong urge to sit on the picnic bench and stick his head between his knees. What the hell had he agreed to do?

      But there was no time for second thoughts. Over the speakers, he could hear “Lila” proclaiming her faith in her beloved “Rusty.”

      “You’re the new Rusty?” A vaguely familiar-looking skinny guy wearing a ten-gallon hat and a bright, shining sheriff’s star on the chest of his blue shirt got his attention.

      “Only for this show,” Galen allowed.

      “Come on, then. I’m Sal the Sheriff.” He shoved a bedraggled-looking scroll into Galen’s hand. “That’s the deed you need to wave in Frank’s face before you knock him out and kiss Lila. Try not to drop it like Joey keeps doing when we’re riding down Main Street.”

      Galen started, but Sal was already hurrying him to another gate farther along than the one the buckboard had gone through. There were ten horses waiting, eight of them already mounted with riders. Some were dressed like Frank. Some like Sal.

      He tucked the deed inside his shirt and swung easily up into the saddle.

      But his thoughts were nowhere near so calm.

      He should have paid more attention to the end of the script. He’d gotten to the punching Frank part. But he’d clean missed seeing that he got to kiss the fair Lila at the end.

      Galen had never gone to school to study acting the way Aurora had. As far as he was concerned, kissing Lila would be as good as kissing her.

      And even though he was rapidly realizing that wasn’t an entirely unappealing notion, it wasn’t something he necessarily wanted to do in front of an audience!

Chapter Two

      Aurora didn’t have to work too hard to look dismayed as she fended off Frank’s advances when he pulled her unwillingly toward the wooden stage at the end of Main Street, where a preacher paced back and forth in front of the old west building facade of a bank, a boardinghouse and a feed store. Frank had been making advances toward her for the past two weeks—ever since he’d joined the cast—and didn’t seem to take the hint that she wasn’t interested.

      “I don’t want to marry you,” she cried out loudly for the crowd who’d been following them along Main Street as her trials and tribulations were extolled. “I love Rusty. He’d never desert me like you claim!”

      Frank pulled her close, his leer exaggerated for the audience. “He’s gone off to Dodge City, my dear.” He twirled his mustache for added effect. “He’s never going to come back. Your only hope to save your departed daddy’s land from the railroad—”

      The crowd booed on cue.

      “—is to marry me!” He swept her off her feet, carrying her, kicking and struggling, up the steps and onto the stage. “That’s it, Preacher Man,” he boomed and set her on her feet. “Get us wedded and hurry up about it.”

      Behind them, the onlookers sent up a cheer as horse hooves pounded audibly down Main Street, accompanied by the triumphant music swelling over the loudspeakers.

      Lila tried to pull away from Frank, but he held her arm fast.

      “Dearly beloved,” Preacher Man started off in a quaking voice. “We are gathered—”

      “Get on to the vows,” Frank demanded, looking nervously over his shoulder.

      Preacher Man gulped. “Do you, sir, take this, ah—”

      “Lila,” Frank growled loudly. He pulled out his pistol and waved it, and a sharp crack! rent the air. Down the facade in front of the feed store, a bag of seed exploded. “Hurry it along, Preacher Man, or the next one goes in you.”

      Preacher Man’s eyes widened. “Take Lila, to be your wife—” His fast words practically fell on top of each other.

      “I do,” Frank yelled, “and she does—”

      “Not!” Rusty had vaulted from his horse and stormed up onto the stage, sweeping Lila away from Frank. “She’ll never be your wife, Frank. No more than that land’ll ever be yours.” He pulled the deed from inside his shirt and waved it in the air. “They’re both mine, and I’ll never let either one go!”

      “Oh, Rusty.” Lila nearly swooned as the audience hooted. Aurora caught the faint grin on Galen’s face before he turned to take on the villain of the piece, and felt a little bit swoonish inside for real.

      She’d gotten over her schoolgirl crush on him ages ago, but Galen Fortune Jones was still the kind of man that could make a girl’s heart stutter.

      She clasped her hands together over her breast, crying out as Frank aimed his pistol at Rusty’s chest.

      But Lila’s white-hatted hero fought off the hand holding the gun and swung his fist into Frank’s chin, knocking him comically right off the stage where he fell ignominiously on his butt in a pile of fake horse poop.

      Sal the Sheriff and his men stood over Frank and his goons, whom he and Rusty had already dispatched, looking satisfied at the turn of events.

      She waited until the cheers died down slightly. “I knew you’d save me, Rusty!”

      “I’ll always save you, Lila.” Galen’s voice was deep and loud and definitely heroic as he tossed the “deed” to the sheriff, who caught it handily. “Will you finally be my wife?”

      She fanned herself, simpering. “You know I will, Rusty.”

      They turned to Preacher Man, who stopped gaping comically at Frank and flipped open his oversize Bible again. “Dearly beloved,” he began again.

      “I do,” Lila burst out. “And he does, too!”

      The