Mistletoe Rodeo (Welcome to Ramblewood)

by Amanda Renee

  Chase still felt her warmth in his palm. He understood it would be unprofessional for her to continue the gesture in front of her colleague, but he hated the immediate emptiness he felt when she let go.

  “I know coming home without winning the championship was a big deal for you,” Nola said as they continued to walk. “But going into the competition injured couldn’t have been easy, either.”

  “No, it wasn’t. But what was the alternative? I couldn’t let everyone down. Do you know how many people put their time and money into my sponsorship? My friends and neighbors took time off work to travel to my events throughout the year. I had students cheering me on from the stands when I rode in their hometowns. Dropping out wasn’t an option. I would’ve disappointed too many people. But in the end, I let them down anyway. I knew riding in the Nationals was a risk, but as painful as it was, I had to see it through. I never expected to be knocked out of the competition on the second day, though.” Chase stopped walking and faced Nola. “It’s different around here. You’re not just one person. You’re part of a community and they become a part of your family. When you travel for the rodeo, you get to know your fellow riders’ families, and even though they’re your competition, they truly become an extension of yourself. Everywhere I looked, I had all these people rooting for me. I had to ride.”

  Chase still physically ached from his final ride in the ring, but explaining it to Nola had been easier than he’d anticipated.

  “Was your shoulder the only reason you were hesitant?”

  Chase nodded. “At first I thought I had dislocated it during a practice ride on one of our own broncs. After a series of testing, the doctors discovered fine tears in some of the ligaments. We took the physical therapy approach and I babied it the following week. Even though I’d been warned that surgery might be required down the road, I thought I was strong enough to compete. It was still tender and I knew the potential danger, but I didn’t expect it to end like this.”

  The corners of Nola’s mouth turned upward slightly. “No one can fault you for your dedication. That’s what you’re known for.”

  Her declaration surprised him. “Thank you.”

  “Did you get that?” Nola glanced at George.

  “Every word.”

  “Get what?” Chase looked from one to the other.

  “You didn’t even realize you were on camera.” Nola squared her shoulders. Inhaling deeply, her smile broadened. “I don’t think it needs much of an edit. Give us a few minutes to pull it up on the monitor and you can tell me what you think. If you hate it, we’ll destroy it, but I think you’ll be satisfied.”

  Chase watched them walk to the van, leaving him alone on the dirt path between the horse pastures. What just happened? Nola definitely had a way of interviewing people—if they even realized they were being interviewed.

  He hoped he hadn’t made a mistake by trusting her. Chase wasn’t looking for anyone to validate his decision to ride in Vegas. He just wanted them to understand why he’d done it. More important, he wanted Nola to understand he still had something worth giving.

  * * *

  NOLA REALIZED SHE’D been taking a huge chance recording Chase without his knowledge. It was a plan she and George had come up with before they arrived at the ranch. They’d used the technique in the past, always granting the interviewee a chance to see the finished product. Most of the time it worked, but a handful of times it had gotten them in trouble.

  Chase wouldn’t have been as open if he’d known. And that was what he needed—raw honesty, so people could see this wasn’t just another arrogant cowboy who’d blown his chances. Nola hoped Chase would feel the same way when he saw the video.

  She was right. Very little editing was needed, and even though Nola had done this a million times, she was nervous about showing Chase the result.

  “Watch it all the way through before you say anything.”

  Chase stood outside the van and watched the monitor. His face remained stoic, and Nola couldn’t get a read on what he was thinking. She even looked to George, but he only shrugged. When the video ended Chase still didn’t say a word.

  Nola tried not to be obvious about glancing at her watch. She had an hour left to get the video to the studio.

  Chase jammed both hands into his front jean pockets. “Why did it look like I was about to cry?”

  Bingo! That was exactly the effect she wanted. “Because this means something to you. It wasn’t just about winning. It was about family and community—and not disappointing any of them. It shows who you really are, Chase. What do you think? Can we use it?”

  Chase shook his head and turned to George. “Man’s opinion, and be honest. Did it look okay or do I look like a total wuss who didn’t get his way?”

  “I think it looks like a man who believes he not only let himself down but everyone else, as well. I thought it was heartfelt, and my wife tells me I’m immune to those types of things.”

  Nola hoped Chase trusted their opinions. She may be cutthroat at times, but Nola would never put someone purposely at ease just to stab them in the back. She knew many journalists who did, and they were more successful because of it. It certainly was Dirk’s MO. Nola had more respect for people than that, and she believed you could produce a solid piece of news without sensationalizing it.

  “Go for it.” It was hard to read the emotion behind Chase’s words and Nola wasn’t sure if he was all right with the interview or just pacifying her.

  Waving George off from sending the video, Nola held up her finger, signaling that she needed a minute alone with Chase.

  She lightly ran her hand down Chase’s arm, feeling his muscles flex beneath her touch. “Are you sure you’re comfortable with this? Because if you’re not we can try something else.”

  “You asked me to trust you, and I have confidence in your abilities.”

  Talk about pressure. Nola didn’t have a crystal ball and she couldn’t predict how people would perceive the video, but in her experience, this was a good reel.

  “Chase, there are no guarantees in life and I can’t promise this will go over the way I intend it to. I think it will, but public perception is a crapshoot.”

  “I have faith in you.”

  Within minutes, the final cut was on its way to the studio and Nola called the station to let them know. She was nervous about Pete’s reaction, especially because this wasn’t the piece he was expecting, but weaved in with the Mistletoe Rodeo lead, Nola hoped he’d be pleased.

  “Usually my segment runs around six forty-five, give or take a few minutes, in case you want to watch it or let anyone else know it’s on.”

  “I think I’ll pass. I don’t watch myself unless I’ve had a bad ride and need to figure out what to correct.”

  “Fair enough. I guess that wraps everything up here.” Nola hesitated, hating to end the afternoon. “So I’ll call you regarding the food bank—if you’re still okay with arranging it.”

  “Are you two leaving already?” Kay walked toward the van. “Stay and have dinner with us. I have steaks and chicken marinating. We’re grilling out tonight and I have more than enough food.”

  “I have to get home to my wife and kids,” George said. “But Nola’s free.”

  “Wonderful. I’ll set another place at the table.” Kay turned, heading to the house.

  “Nothing like a good old-fashioned ambush to get your heart pumping.” Chase laughed.

  “George, you’re my ride home,” Nola said through clenched teeth. The nerve of that man to offer her up to the Langtrys. She’d figured he’d pull some sort of stunt, but in a way, she was secretly thrilled that he had.

  “I’ll take you home,” Chase offered. “My way of returning the favor from this morning. But if you don’t want to stay and would rather disappoint my mother, I perfectly understand.”

  Nola shook her head at George’s all-too-obvious matchmaking. “Don’t give me the puppy-dog look,” Nola said to Chase. “I would be happy to join
you for dinner.”

  As she reached into the van for her leather jacket and handbag, Nola leaned over George’s shoulder and whispered, “I’ll get you for this.”

  “No, you won’t... You’ll thank me.”

  * * *

  NOLA HAD BEEN around the Langtry clan numerous times over the years but never in so intimate a setting as a family meal. Chase’s cousin Ella and husband, Nicolino, Bridle Dance’s general operations manager, and their five children also joined them. Including herself, there were nineteen of them around the massive cedar table. Since they all lived on the ranch, this was the norm for them. It was loud, and at first Nola felt completely out of her element, but that quickly changed with everyone’s welcoming manner.

  In the background, though, Nola thought she noticed tension brewing between Chase and Shane. Almost as if Chase was avoiding his brother. She hoped her presence wasn’t the reason.

  After dinner, Nola helped clear the table despite Kay’s protests that she was a guest. Later, she and Chase strolled through the pecan grove to work off an incredibly decadent chocolate cake Tess had made for dessert. Nola couldn’t help but smile when she saw the trees glistening with thousands of twinkling white lights.

  “Your mom must have some grocery bill.” Nola hadn’t sat at a table with so many people since she had last eaten in the mess hall.

  “Mom doesn’t know how to make small meals. It’s only she and I in the house, but cooking just for the two of us goes against every fiber of her being. If she didn’t have everyone around, believe me when I say she’d be cooking for all the ranch hands. There are some nights she does that, too. Half of what she cooks comes from the garden. She cans in the fall, and the cellar has its own section filled with every kind of preserve imaginable. She donates quite a bit to the food bank.”

  Nola was aware Kay liked to give to the community, but there was more to the woman than most people realized, and her compassion needed to be celebrated.

  “How would you feel about honoring your mom at the Mistletoe Rodeo to commemorate her hard work and commitment to the community?”

  “I love the idea.” For a moment, Nola thought Chase was going to kiss her and was slightly disappointed when he didn’t. “I don’t know why we didn’t think of it before.”

  The temperature had dropped a solid twenty degrees since the sun had gone down and Nola pulled her jacket tighter across her chest.

  “Are you cold?” Chase asked.

  “Actually, I find it invigorating. I learned to adapt after the excruciatingly hot days in the desert. The cool nights were welcome, although sometimes they were downright frigid.”

  “I really do admire you for serving our country.” He nudged her arm with his, causing her to look up at him. Tall in her own right, she normally rivaled most men in height, especially when she wore heels. Chase still had her beat by a good four or five inches.

  Unable to maintain eye contact without blushing uncontrollably, Nola glanced down at the ground. The lights from the trees illuminated their path. “Thank you.” Nola had never been comfortable talking about herself and wanted to change the subject. “What’s going on between you and Shane? I hope it had nothing to do with my being there.”

  “Not at all. Shane is the person I let down the most when I lost. We haven’t spoken since I arrived home because I’m not sure what to say.”

  “Tell him what you told me.” Nola wanted to give Chase a comforting hug but feared she’d appear too brazen. “He’s your brother and he loves you. I haven’t seen my brother in eight years, but I don’t doubt London’s love for me and I’m sure he doesn’t doubt mine.”

  “London, huh? Let me guess—that’s where he was born?” Nola loved the dimples that appeared when Chase smiled.

  “Conceived. We were souvenirs.”

  “I can’t imagine going a month without seeing one of my brothers, let alone eight years. When was the last time you saw your parents?”

  Nola sighed. “Three years.” In her mind, it hadn’t seemed that long ago, but when she said the words aloud, she realized she couldn’t even remember the last time they’d spoken on the phone. “We were stationed on the same base in Germany for a few months. My family isn’t sentimental the way yours is—I’m not saying that’s a bad thing. As kids, we only saw my grandparents a handful of times. My parents never took the time to visit them. I’d love it if my mother and father would make the trip here, but that’s very unlikely. A phone call here and there is enough for them. My brother’s no different. I guess that’s why I don’t see Aunt Jean and Uncle Dan that often. It just wasn’t something we grew up doing.”

  They’d arrived at a section of unlit trees, and Chase stopped and leaned his back against one of the massive pecans. The nearly full moon filtered through its limbs, casting playful shadows on the ground. Nola lifted her arms and made her own shadow dance among them. Chase snickered as he watched.

  “What’s so funny?” Nola leaned in and playfully pushed at his chest, but she was caught off-guard when he snaked his arms around her waist and tugged her flat against him.

  “Mr. Langtry,” Nola said in her best Scarlett O’Hara voice. “I do declare.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but it’s tradition,” Chase replied with a pretty good Rhett Butler impression of his own.

  “Tradition?”

  “I believe I spotted some mistletoe in this here tree earlier today.”

  “Mistletoe?” Nola remained in character. “Above us, right now?”

  “Why, surely, ma’am,” Chase continued and Nola tried her best to keep from laughing. “’Tis the season and all. You wouldn’t want to break a long-standing custom, now, would you?”

  “No,” Nola said. “I wouldn’t want to do that.”

  Chase was only a hairbreadth away, and then he moved even closer, his lips brushing hers. Afraid he’d pull away, Nola laced her fingers behind his neck and deepened their kiss. Her lips parted, inviting him in, not the least bit shy about having a taste of Chase for herself. Her hands slid down his chest and slowly worked their way around his waist and into his back pockets, inciting a low guttural growl from him. And so much for not being brazen.

  Through the thin leather of her jacket, Chase’s thumb grazed her breast. “You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered.

  “Not half as crazy as you’re making me.” Nola closed her eyes and reveled in the warmth of his body while one random thought ran through her head. Thank you, George.

  Chapter Four

  Chase dropped Nola off at her condo a few hours later. While her body yearned to invite him in, the little angel sitting on her shoulder won the coin toss and Nola said goodbye at the door. Now she was kicking herself for the restraint.

  She would’ve been able to handle Chase’s departure better if he hadn’t kissed her goodbye. Their first kiss under the moonlight in the sparkling pecan grove definitely won the prize for most magical, but this one had been more intimate and passionate, wrapping her in a euphoric cocoon.

  Resting her head against the door, Nola resisted the temptation to peer through the peephole to see if Chase still lingered in the hallway. She turned, flattening her back against the doorjamb as her fingers skimmed over her lips—lips that still tingled from the memory of his mouth upon hers.

  Curious to know how the public perceived Chase’s interview, Nola dragged herself away from the doorway and headed to her computer. She checked the social media sites first, then the local stations. The impact was good, but it could’ve been better, at least in Nola’s eyes.

  The majority of people had sympathized with Chase rather than condemned their hometown hero. Then there were those who just resented the Langtrys in general and didn’t hesitate to call them out. Nola compared her interview to ones shot moments before his Vegas ride. His nervousness had been virtually undetectable, which was surprising considering what she now knew about his injury. Years in the spotlight had seasoned Chase in hiding his emotions. Nola hoped that facade didn’t c
arry over into his personal life, although she herself had been schooled in the art of hiding her true feelings when she was only a child. “Keep it to yourself,” her father would command whenever she and her brother had shown any sign of weakness. Once someone knew how you felt, you were at their mercy.

  One person repeatedly blasted the Langtrys in the comments section on multiple sites. Scott David. Nola recalled hearing the name before but couldn’t quite place it. A quick search revealed he was a wealthy Texas cattle baron. Why would he hold such a strong grudge against the Langtrys? His comments weren’t directed at Chase, per se; instead, they were aimed at his deceased father.

  In all her coverage of the family over the years, Nola had never heard anyone speak harshly against Joe Langtry. He had been a tough yet fair businessman who had aided many fallen ranchers in the community by offering them above-market value for their land so they wouldn’t go into foreclosure. Sometimes he had leased it back to them when they chose to stay in business. Other times he had absorbed the land into Bridle Dance, growing it to the size it was today.

  Scott David wasn’t specific in his jabs, but it was clear the man had an ax to grind. Then again, what was a handful of negative comments amid thousands of good ones?

  Nola closed her laptop and dug through her bag for her phone. She hadn’t checked her messages since George had left, and she prayed she hadn’t missed a call from the station. Normally she didn’t silence her ringer, but she hadn’t wanted to offend her hosts by having it go off in the middle of the meal. Engrossed in the Langtry family revelry, she’d forgotten to turn it back on afterward.

  There was one voice mail from Pete asking Nola to meet with him in the morning and two texts from George: Was I right? Followed by another, two hours later: Since I haven’t heard back from you, I take that as a yes. Lunch is on you tomorrow.