by Amanda Renee
Checking the time, Nola decided it wasn’t too late to call George to see if he’d heard anything from the station.
The cameraman’s deep chuckle resonated through the phone. “I can’t decide if I want fish tacos from Jimmy’s or vodka rigatoni from Clark’s.”
“You’re that sure of yourself?” Nola knew enough not to play coy with George. He’d see right through her.
“You’re not using your normal exasperated tone, so...yes, I am.”
“Okay, you win, but don’t expect me to kiss and tell, so—”
“You kissed him?” George fumbled with the phone. “Hey, Betty, she kissed him.”
Nola heard George’s wife in the background cheering at the news. She hadn’t meant to give away their kiss, and normally she wouldn’t have if Chase hadn’t left her so flustered.
“You’re not getting another thing out of me.” Nola wanted to steer the conversation away from her love life, if you could call it that. “I got a voice mail from Pete telling me to meet with him tomorrow. Have you heard any rumblings on what it’s about?”
“I stopped at the studio after I left the ranch. I know they liked the segment, but keep in mind, Nola, it’s not what they asked for.”
No, it wasn’t. Nola knew she’d be up all night worrying about it.
“I won’t keep you. I’ll give you a call after my meeting tomorrow.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing big,” George reassured her. “Pete probably wants to know the direction you’re taking this story.”
“I hope so. Have a good night.”
“Sweet dreams. Not that I have to tell you that—I’m sure you’ll be dreaming of Prince Charming.”
“Hush up.” Nola hung up the phone. George was half right. She would be thinking of Chase, but the inflection in Pete’s voice had left her uneasy. She was grateful for her job and gave it her all, even when she was covering the local 4-H livestock competition.
Nola decided on a cup of chamomile tea to help calm her nerves. While she waited for the water to boil, she looked out over her combination kitchen, dining and living room. The stark walls in the long, narrow room were cold in comparison to the warmth of the Langtrys’ home. Her small condo had always been her refuge at the end of the day, but tonight it felt more like a prison.
She vowed to call her cousin Kylie the next day to catch up, and maybe she’d even stop in and visit with her aunt and uncle in Ramblewood. She couldn’t remember when they were last together. Maybe a year ago? Too long, considering they were the only family she had stateside. Family wasn’t a word Nola thought of often, but it was fast becoming one she missed.
* * *
CHASE AWOKE THE following morning with Nola on his mind. He hadn’t planned on kissing her when they went for their walk, but the thought of kissing her in general had entered his mind once—okay, maybe ten times—throughout the evening. His physical attraction to her was nothing new and his family had reiterated that fact after he arrived home from dropping Nola off. He hadn’t expected everyone to still be there. Normally they would’ve dispersed and gone home by that time, especially when the kids had to be in school the next day.
Instead, they’d sat around analyzing not only every look Chase had given Nola over dinner, but also every look he’d ever given her. He’d discovered that their scrutiny of his relationship—or whatever you called it—with Nola had been taking place for a while now. Embarrassed by his transparency, Chase made certain not to mention their kiss...kisses. He’d at least like some part of their evening to remain private.
Chase had dated his share of women, but he wasn’t even dating Nola. Not yet anyway. Kissing her last night may have been a fluke thing, and at this stage, he’d be wise not to invest too much into it. In the back of his mind, the thought of Nola’s occupation was like a red flag waving in his direction.
She was too driven and focused to devote much time to anything other than her job, whereas Chase was in the opposite position, walking away from his lifelong career. That was something she would never do. She might be regretting their time together already.
Chase headed downstairs and hesitated when he saw his mother in the kitchen. He braced himself for an onslaught of questions about Nola.
“Good morning, dear.” Kay cracked a couple of eggs into a bowl. “I’m fixing myself some scrambled eggs and bacon. Would you like any?”
If Chase was smart, he’d say no and make a mad dash for the stables. But his growling stomach made the decision for him. “That would be great, thank you.”
“Any idea when you’ll take Nola to the food bank?”
“No, I forgot to mention it again last night. I’ll give her a call later to arrange something.” Chase rolled his shoulders to relieve the tension, feeling an instant jolt of pain on one side. Swallowing hard, he attempted to ignore his discomfort. “I’d prefer to stay busy, so if there’s anything extra you need me to handle for the Mistletoe Rodeo, just let me know and I’ll take care of it.”
“Aren’t you teaching today?” His mother faced him, spatula in hand.
“I can’t do much with my shoulder. I have a doctor’s appointment this afternoon, so I’m taking it easy until I hear what he has to say. All I can really offer is support and guidance from the rails.”
“Are you avoiding the rodeo school or your brother?”
Chase had anticipated the third degree from his mother this morning, only he’d thought it would be over Nola, not Shane. “I am not avoiding anyone or anything, Mom.”
“Yes, you are.” His mother dropped slices of bacon onto a hot iron skillet. “You didn’t want to talk about what happened in Vegas and I left it alone. We all did. We’re giving you that respect and moving on, but I don’t want to see you avoid everything rodeo related. Do you think you’ll be able to perform at the Mistletoe event?”
While there was some light competition planned for the Mistletoe Rodeo, Chase had arranged for the majority of it to be executed by the Junior Rodeo kids to showcase their talents. He had even added pig and ostrich races to the roster. The barrel racers would compete dressed as elves and the bullfighters would wear Santa suits instead of their regular clown garb. It definitely wouldn’t be a typical competition, and Chase had no issue with being a part of it. He just hoped Nola had been right when she’d said the good it did for the community would shift attention away from him and his epic fail. Ramblewood had never had a hometown hero, and this year had been his chance.
“I’ll be there. Stop worrying. I’m not shirking my duties. Quite the contrary.” Chase decided to test his decision out on his mother before he spoke with Shane. “I’ve already discussed this with Cole and I wanted you to hear it from me first... As far as I’m concerned, my professional rodeo days are over.”
Chase watched his mother still for a moment at the stove, then continue to cook breakfast without any response.
“Mom, did you hear what I said?”
“I heard you.”
Kay remained silent, leaving Chase uncertain what to say next. He fixed them both a cup of coffee while Kay set their plates on the table.
“I really expected you to say something about this.” Chase joined her, pushing his plate to the side.
“I’m weighing my words very carefully.” Kay shook some salt and pepper over her eggs. “You’d think I’d be elated to hear that I no longer have to worry about any of my sons getting killed or seriously injured in another rodeo. But this doesn’t sit well with me and I’m trying to figure out why.”
“It’s what you’ve always wanted,” Chase mumbled before taking a sip of coffee.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Kay waved a fork at him. “Don’t you put this on me. This is the first I’ve heard you say you were retiring. After what happened this week, I feel as if you’ve given up on yourself. And as much as I’ve always hated that blasted rodeo, that’s not what I want for any of my children. If you love something, do it...no matter how difficult it becomes and how many times you might fail.�
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Chase winced at her choice of words. “I’m not giving up by choice, necessarily. The doctors have already told me I risk potentially injuring my shoulder to the point where I won’t be able to pick up my children. That’s huge, Mom. To not be able to hold my own child because I was too stubborn to walk away. What kind of man would that make me? All that aside, I was coming to this decision long before the National Finals. I really want to devote more time to the ranch and the school. I’d expected to make this decision after my win this year, but it didn’t turn out that way. I’ve accepted it and I hope you will, too.”
“Have you spoken to Shane?”
“Not yet, but I plan to this morning. I’m annoyed at myself for even worrying about that conversation. I know my winning and staying on the circuit helps business at the school, but Shane can’t live his dreams through me. He made his decision to walk away and nobody gave him any grief. I’d appreciate the same consideration. This is my decision, not his.” Chase stood, leaving his untouched plate on the table. “I’m sorry, Mom, but I’m just not hungry anymore.”
He should have gone to Cancun.
Retiring was a major deal for him and a decision he had struggled with since his father’s death three and a half years earlier. Cole had immediately left the rodeo and devoted his full attention to running Bridle Dance. Chase admired his older brother for taking on the massive responsibility of a multimillion-dollar paint and cutting horse operation, but a part of him felt guilty, as well.
Their father’s will had left each brother an equal percentage of Bridle Dance, yet Cole had done—and still did—the majority of the work while the rest of them had reaped the rewards. Jesse reinvested every penny of his share back into the ranch, living off the profits of his own smaller operation. Shane and Chase did a limited amount of work on the ranch itself, devoting the majority of their time to the rodeo school. Chase did even less when he was on the rodeo circuit.
His family had been through hell since Joe’s death. Especially when Shane and Chase had battled Cole and Jesse for control of the ranch’s finances. The rodeo school and hippotherapy center almost hadn’t been built because of a war among brothers. Chase had been the deciding vote, and he’d almost lost Shane when he had sided against him. He had no desire to escalate the tensions between them ever again, but he feared his decision to quit the rodeo might do just that.
The rodeo had been a part of his life for as long as he could remember. It was the last common thread he’d had with his father, and now it was gone. He hoped to regain some connection to his father by dedicating more time to Bridle Dance. Shane would have to accept it.
“What about breakfast?” Kay asked.
“Feed it to Barney. The minute I leave, you’re going to make him a plate anyway. This way you won’t have to cook twice.” Chase gave his mother a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll touch base with you later after I speak with Nola.”
“Give her my best.” Kay reached out and stayed him with her hand. “Chase, I don’t think any less of you for retiring. As a mother, I want to make sure you’re doing it for the right reasons. I had to ask.”
Chase gave her shoulder a quick squeeze, headed toward the back door and snatched his black Stetson off the hook on his way out. He clambered down the porch stairs and headed toward his restored red 1954 Chevy pickup. Despite his net worth, it was one of the few things he owned for himself, and it was his most prized possession, next to his horse, Bocephus. Chase had named him after his favorite country singer, Hank Williams, Jr., who’d been given the famous moniker by Hank’s father.
Normally he’d take Bocephus for a ride to clear his head, but this morning his horse wouldn’t cut it. He wanted Nola. He needed to hear her voice, and the food bank gave him an excuse to call. Driving toward town, Chase dialed her number. Disappointed when he heard her voice mail greeting, he stumbled over leaving a message.
“Hey, Nola, it’s Chase...Chase Langtry. I was wondering, if you—uh—happened to be free, if you—you might want to meet and d-discuss the Ramblewood Food Bank. That’s if you have the time.”
Well, that was brilliant. Chase was well versed in public speaking. Between interviews, the rodeo school and the various clinics he conducted throughout the country, leaving a simple voice mail shouldn’t have been difficult. And it probably wouldn’t have been if the feel of Nola’s body against his wasn’t still ingrained in his brain. His morning had had a rocky start and he knew Nola’s straightforwardness and sensibility would refocus his attention on the Mistletoe Rodeo.
Who was he kidding? He just wanted the chance to kiss her again.
* * *
“YOU WANTED TO see me?” Nola stood in Pete Devereaux’s doorway.
Looking up from behind his desk, Pete motioned for Nola to take a seat in one of the chairs across from him. The man regarded her for a moment, removed his reading glasses, walked to the door and closed it. Returning, he perched on the edge of his desk, making Nola instantly uneasy with him towering over her.
“The Chase Langtry piece was good but not what I had expected. You definitely appealed to the softer side of our viewers, but it wasn’t the angle we agreed on. We shelled out a substantial amount to fly you and George to Vegas to capture a story, regardless of which way it went. With the exception of George’s footage inside the arena, the trip was a waste. We’re a relatively small studio—we can’t afford to send two people on location and not have a story to show for it. Your only saving grace on this was the inclusion of the Mistletoe Rodeo. It’s your story, but I don’t think you’re doing yourself any favors spending time on a holiday piece. Let me assign this to one of our rookies and you can concentrate on something a little more substantial.”
The thought of someone else covering the Mistletoe Rodeo caught her a bit off-guard. She’d handed stories off in the past, but she wasn’t about to loosen her grip on this one.
“With all due respect, I think there’s more to the Mistletoe Rodeo than what you’re seeing on the surface. You have an entire community reaching out to the farmers and ranchers in need. I was stunned at the demand on the food bank, and last night I discovered most towns around here don’t even have one of their own. I’ll admit, at first I thought this was a puff piece. But the more I spoke with Kay Langtry, the more I was convinced this is newsworthy. I would be happy to show you the footage we didn’t use last night—I think you’ll see what I mean.”
“Nola,” Pete argued. “Listen, you’re a strong journalist, but—”
Nola held up her hand and stood. “It’s a solid story if you give it half a chance. And an important one for our community and nationwide. Please don’t belittle my decision to cover it. You have the final say, but if I’m the strong journalist you say I am, then you need to trust my instincts.”
“I’m not questioning your instincts.” Pete straightened, trying to maintain his height advantage.
“Yes, you are.” Nola took a step toward him. “We broadcast to a farming community. In my opinion, a story about their needs and the ways others can help is an important message to get out there. I’m sorry it doesn’t contain a scandal or a violent crime, but I’m not willing to hand it off. Besides, without me there is no story. The Langtrys won’t want anyone else.”
“They would take any reporter if it meant coverage for their cause,” Pete said drily, retreating behind his desk. “Your naïveté surprises me. If you want to run with it, you have my approval. I don’t doubt that you’ll do a good job. I just don’t know if it will be good enough to take you where you want to go.”
Nola smoothed the front of her skirt and then clasped her hands in front of her. “If there’s nothing else, I’d like to get back to work.”
“I need you to cover a press conference at ten. HC General has enacted a policy banning Christmas carols and holiday decorations at the hospital, and there’s quite an uproar brewing over there.”
“A Christmas piece?” Nola bit back her sarcasm. “And Dirk would be where?”
Pete slanted her a gaze. “He’s meeting with the prostitute Senator Waegle allegedly hired.”
“And our rookie field reporters?” Tension crept up her spine, but Nola refused to allow Pete to see her annoyance at the assignment.
“It’s a slow news day.” Pete replaced his glasses and sat in his chair without looking up at Nola, irritating her further. “I can’t justify calling one of them in when you’re available.”
“Thank you for your time.” Nola squared her shoulders, turned toward the door and opened it.
“Have a good day,” Pete said.
Nola’s back stiffened for an instant. This job is only one step to bigger and better things. The mantra had served her well over the years, reminding her to remain calm and accept that every crap job brought her a little closer to the big time.
“You, too.” Nola strode down the hallway to her closet-size office. She squeezed between her filing cabinet and desk and sank into her chair.
She removed her phone from her bag. Seeing a missed call and voice mail notification from Chase created a slight flutter in her stomach. Ignoring them for a moment, Nola typed out a text message to George, asking him to come to her office.
Inhaling slowly, she attempted to steel her nerves before listening to Chase’s message. Logic told her it was probably about the Mistletoe Rodeo story, but a part of Nola feared it might be one of those I-regret-our-kiss calls.
Chastising herself for fretting like a lovesick teenager, Nola pressed Play on her phone. The nervousness in Chase’s voice immediately made her smile. She checked her watch. He’d called a little more than half an hour ago, and the realization that she didn’t have enough time to meet with him bummed her out a bit.
She dialed his number, her pulse quickening when he answered with his Texas drawl. “Good mornin’. How are you?”
“Good.” That wasn’t exactly true, but hearing the sound of his voice brightened her morning. “How are you?”
