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  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!

  Copyright © 2015 by Harlequin Books S.A.

  ISBN-13: 9781460382820

  Falling for the Mom-to-Be

  Copyright © 2015 by Janet Maarschalk

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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