Mistletoe Rodeo

“Financially you’re okay since the balance of your trust comes due on your thirtieth birthday. Call your agent and tell him your decision, but give yourself a couple days before you do. You may even want to wait until after the holidays. Once you tell him, he’ll talk to your publicist and they’ll handle it from there. Be prepared for an onslaught of phone calls. Walking away isn’t easy.”

“Neither is telling Shane.” Chase still wasn’t sure how he was going to break it to him. “He’s been living vicariously through me for the past two years.”

“Shane walked away from the rodeo, too. Granted he didn’t have an injury hanging over his head, but he did it midseason and there were quite a few repercussions surrounding his decision. You have my support, but I mean it when I say take the holidays to come to terms with this and be a hundred percent positive this is what you want before you announce it publicly. Enjoy some downtime for a change.”

Downtime was a foreign concept to Chase. Between the rodeo and the school, he found himself run ragged most of the time. With a handful of days left to this year’s final session, Chase looked forward to a lighter workload. When his mom had asked him to cochair the Mistletoe Rodeo, Chase had hesitated at first and then decided it wouldn’t be so bad working alongside his mother. Over the past few months, he’d helped organize many of the events leading up to the charity auction at the end of the evening. To his surprise, he had enjoyed every minute of it.

“Nola West is coming to the ranch later this afternoon to interview Mom and me about the Mistletoe Rodeo. Do you want to be a part of it?”

“Tess mentioned she saw you two together at The Magpie. I have to tell you, when Shane came home from Vegas he said watching you and Nola was like watching Wile E. Coyote chase the Road Runner.”

“I bet it was.” Chase laughed. “She was a bit relentless and even wrangled a seat next to me on the plane. Did you know she served three tours in the Middle East?”

“No, I didn’t, but I guess it means she’s capable of taking on a Langtry man.”

Chase almost dropped his mug. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Cole eyed him skeptically. “It’s obvious the woman has a thing for you, and the way you pant over her when she’s not looking leads me to believe the feeling’s mutual.”

“I do not.” Chase stood and dumped the remainder of his coffee in the sink, not daring to look at his brother.

“Yeah, okay. Whatever you say. I don’t have time for an interview, though. Do me a favor and run these to the lab for me. Lexi should be down there somewhere. Just don’t take the coward’s way out and have her tell Shane your decision. He deserves to hear this from you.”

Cole knew Chase too well. For a split second, he had contemplated just that—asking Lexi to break the news to her husband. Chase was a rodeo cowboy, and he wasn’t sure if he knew how to be anything else. How would the school fare having two “retired has-beens” who’d never won the World All-Around as owners? That win spoke volumes in the industry and, once again, Chase felt like he’d let everyone down.

* * *

“WHERE’S THE STORY?” Pete Devereaux, KWTT’s news director, boomed through the phone.

“I don’t have it yet.” Nola tried to think of a way to tell Pete he wasn’t going to get the type of story he had expected. “I’m meeting Chase at Bridle Dance this afternoon.”

“We sent you all the way to Las Vegas and back—first class, I might add—and you still don’t have anything. If we wanted you to get the story at the ranch, we could’ve saved ourselves a lot of money.”

“I know.” Nola’s voice went dry. “He refused to give me an interview in the airport. I wasn’t going to hound him like a tabloid reporter. It’s not my style. Besides, the interview at the ranch was his idea.”

“Of course it was. You’ll be on his home turf,” Pete grunted. “You’ve got to bring me something good if you want this co-anchor job. Dirk just locked down an exclusive tell-all interview with Senator Waegle about the alleged prostitute he was caught with. I’m sorry, but you need to top it or he will get the co-anchor position. I’d hate to do that when I know you are more than capable.”

Sometimes Nola hated the news and wished they could call a cease-fire for the holidays. Life went on, wars continued, people died tragically and politicians cheated. She’d witnessed every sin imaginable and had even committed the ultimate one herself.

Shaking her head to erase the memory, Nola ended her call with Pete. She brushed her hair one last time and checked her reflection in the mirror before heading out. This was not the way Nola wanted to start her afternoon with Chase. Correction—with Kay and Chase. It wasn’t a date and she shouldn’t have to remind herself she was working. Besides, George was going to be there, and nothing was more unromantic than having a burly cameraman by her side.

The KWTT news van pulled up in front of her building. Normally she would’ve met George at the studio, but since her condo was on the way to the ranch, there was no sense in backtracking.

George was a friend Nola trusted completely. A veteran himself, George had witnessed more than his share of fighting and tragedy after serving twenty years in the Navy. Unlike Nola, he’d come to town to retire and wind down, not climb the ladder of success. George was one of the few people who knew of Nola’s past and her current fears. Nola regarded him as a pinch-hitting father, and she was grateful George kept her secrets even though it must put a strain on his marriage.

“I see you dressed down today.” George regarded her wardrobe choice and nodded. “I approve.”

Nola looked down at her favorite buttery soft gray T-shirt, semi-faded jeans and cowboy boots. She was comfortable to a point but felt exposed without her Spanx. “I’m not sure how long I’m going to last in these boots. I bought them a couple years ago because everyone said I needed a pair in Texas, but I’ve hardly worn them. I’m going to get blisters.”

George laughed at her. “You need to get out more and do some dancing to break them in.”

“Why? To add blisters on top of my blisters? No, thanks. Besides, I don’t dance.”

“You need to learn,” George said. “But have no fear. There’s still a pair of your nasty old black Converse sneakers in the back of the van. At least I think that’s what I smell.”

“Why, you—” Nola hauled off and playfully smacked him. “That’s not right and you know it. Stop laughing and keep your eyes on the road.”

George composed himself and cleared his throat. “You and Chase looked pretty chummy at the baggage claim.”

“Chummy? How?” Nola hoped she hadn’t looked like a lovesick fan. Chase’s hard, chiseled features had softened during the flight and Nola had begun to see a side of him she hadn’t known existed.

Chase had always come across as the quiet, watchful brother in the background. During the Ride ’em High! and Dance of Hope grand opening, Nola had noticed how Chase allowed the rest of the family to revel in the spotlight, and Nola respected his modesty despite his exorbitant wealth.

The van stopped at a red light. “I do believe you’re blushing.” George lifted his sunglasses and leaned over the center console to take a better look. “You are blushing.”

His encroachment on her personal space snapped Nola back to reality. “What are you doing?”

“Honey, you’ve got it bad.” George whipped out his cell phone and snapped a picture of Nola.

“What was that for?”

“No one would ever believe me if I told them Nola West was not only frazzled, but frazzled over a man.”

“You realize I know over a hundred ways to kill you, right?”

“Yeah, but you won’t.” George chuckled. “Besides you’ll need me to be your bridesman at the wedding.”

“Bridesman?”

“Who else is better suited to stand up for you when you marry Chase Langtry? You don’t have any close friends nearby and you lean toward the unconventional. Instead of a bridesmaid, you’ll have a bridesman. Me.”

“You’re deranged, you know that? I am not marrying Chase Langtry, or anyone else for that matter.” Nola refused to allow herself even one second of imagining marriage to Chase Langtry. “We don’t exactly run in the same social circles.”

“Brace yourself, darlin’. We are about to enter Camelot.”

Camelot was the nickname George and Nola had given Bridle Dance the first day they’d seen the log home whose size rivaled that of a small castle. The horses lived better than Nola did. The familiar entrance to the ranch was majestic with its bronze rearing-horse sculptures on either side of the wrought iron sign. Only they’d never seen them with gigantic red bows around their necks. Nola was willing to bet that once the sun set, the main road would light up like a fairy-tale forest of sparkling lights.

The drive was unpaved and dusty, and Nola loved how the Langtrys had maintained a rustic atmosphere. With the exception of a few side businesses, like the winery and the sod farm, the majority of the ranch was devoted to horses.

“What on earth is that?” George asked.

“It looks like Santa.” Nola peered through the windshield. “Are those real reindeer?”

“I hope not.” George slowed the van as they passed the Christmas sleigh display. “They sure do look like it though, don’t they?”

“That’s borderline scary.” Nola laughed. “I love Rudolph, though. Good God, look at the house. How many wreaths do you think they have on that thing?”

“Forget the house—there’s your Prince Charming.”

Chase waved from the garland-draped front porch, where boughs of holly framed the front door. As he stepped down the stairs, the sun glinted off his golden hair, and Nola thought it was unusual to see Chase hatless. There was nothing shading his gorgeous Caribbean blue eyes. Normally a man without a hat appeared more vulnerable to her, but the opposite held true with Chase. He looked more raw and rugged, and Nola was aching to run her fingers through his hair.

“Like I said, you’ve got it bad.” George parked the van and smiled at her.

“If you do one thing to humiliate me, I promise you’ll live to regret it.” Nola watched Chase walk toward them and prayed she wouldn’t embarrass herself.

Chase opened Nola’s door before she reached for the handle. As he swung the door wide, a crisp breeze swept across Nola’s face and chest. And that was when her body betrayed her. Victoria’s Secret be damned, her nipples stood at attention right through her shirt.

A slow, easy grin spread across Chase’s face. “You might want to grab a jacket if you have one. It’s a bit chilly today.”

So much for not embarrassing herself.

Chapter Three

Chase now had one more fantasy etched into his brain. He was sure Nola’s reaction was due to the cool air and not his presence, but he could always dream. He noticed that Nola had heeded his advice and dressed down this afternoon. As distracting as he may have found her short skirt earlier, the way her jeans fit her backside was even more unsettling. She appeared slightly curvier and he liked it.

Chase made a mental note not to walk behind Nola for the remainder of her visit. He led his guests into the house by way of the great room, not realizing that neither one of them had ever been inside before until their gaped-mouth expressions told him otherwise.

Following their eyes three stories up toward a bevy of skylights, Chase gave them a brief history of the rustic home, hoping he didn’t sound ostentatious.

“My father personally chose each log in this house, and every one came from the ranch’s Western red cedar trees.”

“It’s beautiful craftsmanship.” George admired the monumental floor-to-ceiling river-rock fireplace. “It’s a rarity to see this type of construction anymore.”

“It was my father’s vision. He had every log hand-hewn and notched on-site and wanted the house not only to be a one-of-a-kind structure, but also to be a home he could hand down through the ages to his children and eventually their children.”

“How many of you live here?” George asked.

“Just my mother and myself nowadays.” Chase looked around at the house that was once so filled with warmth. As much as he wanted to get married and start a family of his own, he couldn’t help but wonder how his mother would feel staying in the massive home by herself with only Barney for company.

Langtry tradition had long dictated that when a child got married they moved into or built a house of their own on the property. With all of their land, they could live on the same ranch and literally be in the next county, but the idea had never appealed much to Chase. He wanted his children to grow up in the same house he had. He hadn’t discussed it with any of his brothers, though, fearing it might set off an argument among them.

Jesse wouldn’t care—he had his own ranch. But Cole and Shane might have a thing or two to say about him living in the main house when they had both chosen to refurbish midcentury cottages. Their father’s estate had divided the ranch equally among the four of them, but the house remained solely his mother’s. It was a moot point anyway—Chase didn’t even have a girlfriend—but any decision about the house would ultimately be Kay’s.

He turned to Nola and found her studying him as if she were trying to read his mind. It was unnerving, especially because she was the one who had triggered these it’s-time-to-settle-down musings.

She quickly turned away and surveyed the room, her eyes landing on a large piece of artwork on the far wall leading to the kitchen. Chase moved to stand next to her but instantly regretted his decision when the enticing aroma of vanilla mixed with brown sugar greeted him. Chase had been around his sisters-in-law enough to be fairly sure that Nola shopped at Bath & Body Works.

“That was a gift from the local Native American Kickapoo tribe. It’s my mother’s favorite piece.”

“I can understand why. It’s breathtaking, but then again so is the rest of your house. Not quite what I imagined, though.”

“What do you mean?” Chase asked.

“Log homes tend to be dark. This is amazingly light filled and warm at the same time. And I suppose I expected it to be as festive inside as it is outside.”

“Trust me, it will be. Mom’s planning a decorating party this weekend.” For a split second, Chase envisioned Nola there beside him, hanging stockings on the mantel.

Nola lightly touched Chase’s arm. “Your father created a lasting legacy. I wish I’d had the opportunity to know him.”

“Thank you.” That was all Chase could muster.

He liked the way she truly seemed to appreciate what his father had created, instead of carrying on over the grandness of the house, as many of his previous dates had—not that this was a date.

“Hello, Nola, George.” Kay swept into the room and gave each of them a hearty hug. “I’m glad you could come out today.”

“Thank you for having us. You have a lovely home,” Nola said.

Kay tilted her head. “All these years and you’ve never been inside? Our door is always open to both of you, and George, any time you want to bring your kids by to go riding, please feel free.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” George said. “My wife and I would enjoy that.”

Kay squeezed in between them and wrapped her arm around George, leading him to the kitchen. “None of that ‘ma’am’ nonsense. Kay is fine.”

“Yes, ma—Kay,” George sheepishly mumbled.

Nola smiled and turned to Chase. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him reduced to mush before. Remind me to thank your mother later.”

“She meant what she said, you know.” Chase reached for Nola’s hand so George and Kay could walk ahead of them. The intimacy of the gesture surged through him, and for a moment, Chase questioned his own boldness. “You’re welcome here anytime, and the invite is still open for you to join us for the Winter Festival and tree lighting.”

“Thank you.” Nola didn’t attempt to move away. “I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful, but with my schedule—well, that’s the problem. I don’t really have a schedule. I’m an on-the-scene reporter and they call us at all hours. It makes it difficult to plan anything.”

Chase hadn’t considered that aspect of her job. He was used to traveling according to a set rodeo itinerary. Nothing was ever last minute. “It’s not as though this isn’t work related. Say yes, and if a bigger story comes up, I’ll understand.”

“How about we see how today goes, and take it from there?”

“Agreed.” It wasn’t the yes Chase had hoped for, but it was a step in the right direction. The more coverage the Mistletoe Rodeo gained, the more successful it would be. Although he had to admit, it would be much nicer to have Nola to himself, without George in the mix.

Facing each other, their hands still linked, Chase briefly forgot they weren’t the only two people in the house. His first instinct was to kiss her. Right there in the middle of the great room, not caring who walked in on them. Everyone deserved to celebrate Christmas surrounded by love and family, and it bothered him that she’d probably spend hers alone in some tiny condo. That wasn’t acceptable. Nola needed to experience a down-home Christmas, and he was determined to show it to her.

* * *

KISS ME, YOU FOOL. No, wait! Don’t kiss me...not here anyway.

No one had ever thrown Nola this far off her game before. Bridle Dance was not Camelot, Chase was not Prince Charming and she was far from a princess. Get a grip, soldier. Guys like Chase didn’t fall for girls like Nola. She was way out of her league, and any thoughts otherwise would be a waste of time, leading only to disappointment. Nola didn’t measure up to the Langtry women. She was a military brat with a tainted past and she definitely didn’t belong in their world.

She released Chase’s hand and followed him into the large but simple kitchen, which was perfect for entertaining a large family. Nola could easily envision the four brothers tearing through the house when they were children.

“I love the flooring in here.” George squatted to run his hand over the wide planks and was greeted by a big, wet, black canine nose.

“Barney, behave. I’m sorry. He’s a little enthusiastic around new people.” Kay gently tugged on the dog’s collar. “The floor is reclaimed lumber from the barns that used to stand on the property. Joe wanted to incorporate the old with the new, so the previous generations of craftsmanship have been woven into our home.”

Nola reassuringly touched Kay’s shoulder. “He succeeded beautifully.” From previous interviews, she knew how difficult it had been for Kay, losing her husband to a sudden heart attack. There had been a deep love between Joe and Kay, one that had ended way before its time, taking their plans and dreams with it.

“Have a seat.” Kay motioned to the counter stools surrounding a large butcher-block island. “Chase said you were interested in covering the Mistletoe Rodeo and charity auction. My daughter-in-law Tess is adding the finishing touches to the website today. We’re in a bit of a rush to get the news out there, since we plan to make this an annual event. Has Chase told you much about it?”

“We discussed it briefly over breakfast.” Nola felt heat rise to her cheeks. It wasn’t as if they’d spent the night together. Well, they had...but not in that way. “I’m ashamed to say today is the first I’ve heard of it.”

“Is this your inaugural year?” George asked. “I haven’t heard anything about it, either. What charity does it benefit?”

“The Ramblewood Food Bank, and yes, this will be the first year of many, we hope.” Kay opened a folder and handed Nola and George information sheets. “With so many families in dire straits in this area, the need for a fully stocked food bank has arisen. We have a big event over Thanksgiving, which is wonderful, but as quickly as the food bank fills up, it empties. We want to raise enough funding with the rodeo and auction to keep the food bank replenished year-round, and we want to raise awareness so people continue to donate throughout the year, not just over the holidays. Poverty doesn’t take a break.”

Nola read over the statistics. “Look at the volume of inventory going in and out of the food bank in the course of one week alone—I had no idea it was this bad.”

“Many people don’t,” Kay said. “I’m aiming to make this an exciting yet educational full-day event. There will be a tricky tray auction in the morning, where you purchase a ticket and drop it into a fishbowl in front of the item you want to win, followed by a pancake brunch and then an afternoon filled with carnival-type games and an exhibition rodeo. The full-fledged auction will round out the event in the evening, where people can bid on everything from artwork to spa retreats. Various people and companies throughout the area have donated the items for both auctions, so one hundred percent of the proceeds will go directly to the food bank.”

Multiple thoughts ran through Nola’s head at once. It would be a great public interest story, especially because it focused on so many of the families affected by foreclosures and takeovers by corporate farms. Nola found it slightly ironic that the biggest ranch of them all—the very one who had purchased many of the smaller farms over the years—was the one hosting the event. Then again, it was better for the families to have made some profit selling their land to the Langtrys than to have lost everything to the bank.

“Do you think the food bank would be open to us shooting a segment there?” Nola asked.

“I think they’d love it.” Kay clasped her hands. “I’m sure Chase would be happy to organize a meeting for you. He’s my cochair.”

Nola tried to figure out the look that passed between Kay and her son.

“Sure, I’ll set something up this week,” he agreed.

Did he wink at me? I think he did. Chase Langtry was flirting with Nola and she liked it. Turning to address George, she noticed the wide I-told-you-so grin plastered across his face.

She nudged him with her foot. “Would you please run out to the van and get your camera?” Nola directed her attention back to Kay. “I had originally planned on shooting outside, but I think this setup works better. Would you mind repeating everything you just explained to us on camera? I’d really like this to be a multisegment story leading up to the day of the event.”

“Really?” Kay asked. “I expected this to be a one-time thing. Thank you, Nola. The more people we reach the better.”

After Nola wrapped the shoot, she found Chase on the front porch.

“I guess I owe you an interview of my own,” Chase said when she approached. Thankfully, George hung back and gave them some distance. Nola hadn’t been sure if Chase would hold up his end of the bargain.

“Only if you trust me.” She took another step closer to him. Less than a foot separated them, and Nola fought the urge to lay her hand on his chest. “We can reshoot this as many times as we need until you feel comfortable. The van has full editing capabilities, so you’ll see the final cut before I send it to the studio. But they are expecting something for the six o’clock news.”

“No pressure, right?” Chase shuffled his feet and leaned on the railing. “Let’s do this, then.”

“I won’t let you down,” Nola said. “Just give me a chance.”

Chase met her eyes as the words tumbled from her lips. She hadn’t meant for them to come out so breathlessly. She’d meant to sound reassuring, not desperate.

* * *

CHASE SENSED THERE was more to Nola’s statement. First Cole, then his mother had pointed out their mutual attraction. Up until this point, Chase had always assumed it was one-sided, but there was no denying the increasing chemistry between them. Chase wished George wasn’t so close by so he could have a moment to show Nola how much he trusted her. There was never a more right and wrong time to kiss her.

“Where do you want to do this?” Nola asked.

Chase focused on Nola’s mouth. Her lips were almost bare, just the way he liked them. She wasn’t wearing nearly the amount of makeup she normally did, and her hair fell in natural waves instead of being flat ironed straight the way it usually was. This definitely wasn’t Nola’s customary in-front-of-the-camera attire and Chase wondered what type of interview he was in for.