It was some sort of filmy, lacy thing about the same color as the doily his mom had had forever sitting underneath a vase in the front parlor of the house he and his four brothers and two sisters had grown up in.

She twitched her skirt, drawing his attention.

Wild West Wedding!She raised her eyebrows, clearly waiting for some response. She gave him a look that ought to have scorched his toes. All dolled up in an old-fashioned-looking dress with beads and lace hanging off her slender shoulders and her eyes made up to look even bigger than they already were. So he looked back at Aurora and adjusted his hat. One, he didn’t believe in fortune-tellers, and two, he’d reached the age of thirty-four without once entertaining the idea of marrying someone. He’d laughed it off then as nonsense for two simple reasons. And where, just a few weeks prior to that, one of the Wild West fortune-tellers had told him he would soon be hitched. Instead, he glanced around where they were standing on a side street of Cowboy Country, USA, the Western-style theme park where just last week-in a moment of apparent insanity-he had agreed to be an authenticity consultant. The words echoed inside his head and he wanted to shake it hard, just to see if something had come loose inside. You will marry a woman in white and be married within the month. She huffed, pushing a shining red ringlet out of her face. Now he looked from her hand, clutching his left arm, back to her dark blue eyes. There had been no romance involved, considering that at the time he’d paid more attention to helping her daddy, Walt, load up his truck, before tending to his own business there. They’d run into each other at the Horseback Hollow feed store. He was pretty sure the last time he’d seen his neighbor had been a few months ago. Galen Fortune Jones stared down at Aurora McElroy.

Fortune's June Bride by Allison Leigh