Mistletoe Rodeo (Welcome to Ramblewood)

by Amanda Renee

  George laughed. “Since when does Prince Charming wear spurs?”

  “Shut up and drive.” Nola flipped open her iPad to see if any other stations had arrived on scene yet. A calendar reminder blinked in the center of her screen. “Crap!”

  “What’s wrong?” George stopped the van at the edge of the parking lot.

  “Keep driving.” Nola waved her hand toward the street. “I completely forgot I have that studio interview with Kay tonight.”

  The last thing she wanted to do was face anyone from the Langtry clan. She was certain by now they all knew about her sordid past and they would never look at her the same way again. Breaking up with Chase was one thing, but their being disappointed in her as a human being was another.

  “Kay’s a good woman,” George began. “I don’t think she’ll hold anything that happened between you and Chase against you personally.”

  “You can continue to live in fantasyland over there in your little corner of the world, but I’m through. I put too much faith into this whole thing with Chase and I got burned. Do you know he had the gall to tell me I should’ve told him I couldn’t have kids sooner? Or at least said that I didn’t want any. We’ve only been dating for a week. We were getting closer. Okay, we were as close as you could possibly get...physically. But still, the time wasn’t right. Yesterday was the first day we were alone, without any interruptions from anyone.”

  “Allow me to play devil’s advocate here.” George steered the van onto the interstate. “If the relationship was so new and you’ve only been going out for a week, then why do you sound like it was more than some casual fling with possible future potential? Why are you so angry?”

  Nola opened her mouth and then she snapped it shut. Reformulating her thought, she opened her mouth once again only to close it.

  George looked in her direction. “Are you catching flies?”

  “I don’t have an answer.” Nola sat looking out the passenger window. She couldn’t explain why it bothered her so much.

  “Need a little help?”

  Nola scoffed. “You think you have the answer?”

  “I believe you were not only falling in love with Chase. You were also falling in love with the life and family you never had. He was a package deal, and you knew that from the beginning whether you’re willing to admit it to yourself or not.”

  Nola raised a brow at George’s statement, her brain scrambling to find a logical argument against what he was saying. His words hammered in her head as they reached the scene. Nola fought to push them aside and focus on the tragedy unfolding in front of them.

  “Park here.” Nola flipped the sun visor down to check her reflection in the mirror. The woman staring back didn’t begin to resemble the way she felt. Carefully applied makeup, hair styled with enough hairspray to shellac all fifty Miss America contestants and a red power suit designed to command attention successfully hid the shattered heart she had tried so carefully to protect.

  Connecting her microphone to the battery pack as she walked toward the scene, George followed, his camera already hoisted into position filming the wreckage of the two-car accident. The paramedics had already arrived, and a body lay on the side of the road with a sheet draped over it.

  Nola urged herself forward and quickly interviewed the people parked on the shoulder. Nodding to George when she had enough to report, Nola took a deep breath and assumed her position in front of the camera.

  “This is Nola West reporting to you from the scene of a tragic accident this morning along I-10. Relatives of the victims tell me the couple and a group of their friends were on their way home to Ozona after attending a concert last night in San Antonio. Opting to leave this morning instead of making the three-hour drive in the dark, the caravan of cars ran into a patch of dense fog. There is one confirmed death and four people are on their way to area hospitals. Names of victims are being withheld at this time until families have been notified.”

  Nola stormed back to the van. “Send it to the studio. Let them edit it.” She tossed her microphone into the back and tore off her battery pack. “I hate the news.”

  She climbed back into the van and slammed the door.

  “Just because the Army said journalism was a good fit for you doesn’t mean you have to make a career out of it.” George closed the side door of the van and joined her up front. “What do you really want, Nola?”

  “When I was growing up I dreamed of becoming a United Nations translator.” Nola mused. “We’d lived in so many different countries, and the translators who accompanied us always amazed me. I loved studying foreign cultures and new languages. And the fact that I picked them up easily was one of the very reasons the Army thought being a public affairs broadcast specialist suited me.”

  When Nola had chosen the Army over jail, her dreams had ended. Basic training had been ten weeks of pure hell, but she’d reveled in it. It had kept her mind off what she’d done. Based on the results of her vocational aptitude battery, she’d followed boot camp with twelve weeks of advance individual training in the military occupation specialty they had assigned her based on her test results. Journalism hadn’t been her choice. After she had come home on inactive duty, she’d enrolled in Texas A&M’s telecommunications media studies program after receiving credit toward her bachelor’s degree for her time in the Army. Her life hadn’t turned out anything like she had planned.

  “Nola, you’re so young,” George said. “You can go back to school and probably get your dream job before you’re thirty. Don’t waste the time you’ve been given. Listen to someone who’s been there.”

  Nola sighed. “I’ve thought about it...many times.” But once her life had started rolling in the journalism direction, she’d gone with it. She was good at her job and it had potential, but it just became one more empty goal for her to achieve. Her heart wasn’t in it.

  “Then, stop doing this to yourself.”

  “George, I appreciate the pep talk, but I can’t worry about this now.” Nola dialed the station to let them know they were leaving the scene and to check whether there were any other stories brewing before heading back to the office so she could prepare for her interview with Kay Langtry.

  Nola wanted Kay to explain how the idea had come about and why it was so personal to her. Although she had originally agreed to cover the Mistletoe Rodeo to help defer Chase’s loss in Las Vegas, that hadn’t proved to be an issue once he had arrived back in Ramblewood. He was a hometown hero whose reputation and good name remained intact.

  “We’re clear—head back to the studio.” When George didn’t start the van, Nola looked through the windshield, trying to figure out why they weren’t moving. “Is something blocking us?”

  “Look at me,” George demanded.

  “What?” Nola overturned her palms. “I heard you before. I’ll think about it, okay?”

  “It’s more than the job. You perpetually ignore what’s right in front of you.” George slapped the dashboard for emphasis. “You have a man in your life who truly cares about you. Okay, you can’t have your own kids, but you can adopt. You can use a surrogate. You have so many options and you refuse to look at them because you’ve told yourself you don’t deserve to have kids. I don’t believe that crap for a second. And speaking of crap, you hate this job. Get your butt out there and do what you really want to do. Self-sabotage is what this is. You continuously punish yourself for something you did seven years ago. You did your time. Stop settling and start living.”

  Nola turned away, covering her mouth. George’s words stung—stung because they were true. “I don’t think I know how.”

  * * *

  “THIS IS A SURPRISE.” Cole turned on the remainder of the lights in the offices above the stables. “When did you get here?”

  “I don’t know.” Chase was on his fifth cup of coffee and heartburn was beginning to set in. “I came up here to see if I could figure out something with this whole Scott David mess. If I stayed up at the house any longer
, I would’ve had a Christmas meltdown. I swear Mom did twice as much this year as she did last year.”

  Cole pulled up a chair next to Chase at the conference table. “Did you come up with anything?” Cole sifted through the papers Chase had taken from Nola’s condo yesterday. “You found all this?”

  “No, Nola did. She first noticed Scott after I blew it in Vegas, but he’s been gunning for us for a year.”

  “I didn’t realize he’d gone after us publicly before now, or even to this extent.” Cole removed his phone from his back pocket. “Jon said he didn’t think Scott would do this, at least not yet anyway. I need to clue him in. I wish you’d told me yesterday.”

  “If I hadn’t been so stubborn we would have known about it the night Nola overheard us talking in Daddy’s office. That’s what she wanted to tell us.”

  “And then Jon made that comment about her being a reporter,” Cole said.

  Chase nodded. “Jon didn’t trust Nola, and a part of me wondered if she was fishing for a story, as well.”

  Cole held up a finger for Chase to hold on. “Jon, it’s Cole. When you get this, give me a call back on my cell. I have some information you may not be aware of regarding Scott David.” Cole placed his phone on the table. “Is this all she has or is she able to dig up more information using her sources?”

  Chase shrugged. “We broke up yesterday. I’m sure she won’t want to be bothered helping us at all now.”

  “Doesn’t Mom have that studio interview with her tonight?” Cole’s brows furrowed. “Nola doesn’t seem the type to blow off part of a story she’s worked so hard for, but you may want to touch base with her. The Mistletoe Rodeo’s your baby, too.”

  “I completely forgot about that interview.” Chase didn’t know whether he should call Nola or if his mother should. Technically, it was her interview, but he had planned to accompany her as cochair.

  “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry to hear about you and Nola. I hope you two can find a way to work out your differences, because you complement each other very well. I know Tess and Ever adore her.”

  “It’s a complicated situation.” Chase leaned back in his chair. “She confided in me and I could have reacted better. I’ve been wondering all night how to apologize.”

  “I can help you with that.” Cole tore off a piece of paper and began to write on it. “Follow these instructions to the letter.” Cole slid the paper across the table.

  Chase looked down at the words: Just say I’m sorry.

  “It’s that simple, and Mom’s interview is the perfect excuse,” Cole said.

  If only his relationship with Nola was that simple. They both wanted family, just not in the same way. In his vision of the future, he had always seen a little boy with his eyes or a little girl with his future wife’s smile. Wasn’t that everyone’s dream? To have a miniature version of themselves running around? The resemblance between Shane and his son, Hunter, was remarkable. Chase wanted that so desperately for himself, but that desperation may have cost him the best thing that had ever happened to him.

  * * *

  NOLA SILENCED THE ringer on her phone. Chase had called three times since she’d been back in the office and hadn’t left her a single voice mail. It couldn’t possibly be about his mother’s interview, because she’d already confirmed it with Kay.

  Closing the door to her office, Nola rehearsed her questions. She rarely had the opportunity to interview somebody in the studio, and if it turned out well, she wanted to use it for a résumé reel.

  George’s words replayed in her head. Giving up her career was not an option. It wouldn’t be practical to start over after all her training.

  Children, however... She hadn’t put much thought into adoption because of her criminal record. What adoption agency would give a woman who’d killed her unborn baby a child? Her only remote chance of being a parent was if she married someone who already had kids of their own. But then they would never truly be hers. And the surrogate option was definitely out of her financial reach.

  But it wasn’t out of Chase’s.

  Even if he was willing to discuss the possibility with her, the fact that he’d walked away after Nola had shared her deepest, darkest secret with him spoke volumes.

  There was a knock on the door and George popped his head in. “I just wanted to check on you.”

  “Thanks, George—I’m fine. Be my guinea pig.” It was always best to rehearse on a real person. “I need to make sure these questions are good enough for my interview with Kay.”

  George crossed the room and sat in front of Nola’s desk. “I see you still have his flowers.”

  “They hovered over the garbage can twice this morning.”

  “Yet you decided to keep them. That says something.” George tugged at the hem of his shirt where it had crept above his beer belly.

  “The roses make my office smell nice.” Nola waved her pen toward George’s stomach. “You need to cut out the fast food.”

  “Nah, Betty must’ve shrunk this shirt in the wash.” George wriggled in his chair. “Let’s hear your questions.”

  By the time five o’clock rolled around, Nola was primed and ready to go. Her producer let her know Kay had arrived and was waiting in their makeshift green room. He’d neglected to tell her that Chase was there with his mother.

  Maintaining her composure, Nola acknowledged Chase with a brief lift of her chin and gave Kay a welcoming hug. If the woman knew anything about what had happened with Chase, she didn’t let on.

  “Don’t be nervous.” Nola felt the slight tremble in the woman’s body. “The set itself will be lit, but the studio lights will be down low, so you’ll hardly even see the cameras or the crew.”

  “Cameras?” Kay’s gaze shifted from Nola to Chase and back again. “Multiple cameras?”

  “There will be one behind you, one behind me and one straight ahead of us.” Nola checked her watch. “Let’s take a walk down there so you can get more of a feel for how this will work. The set resembles a plush living room.”

  Leading Kay down the hallway, Nola felt Chase’s eyes sear into her back. After Kay saw where they would be conducting the interview, her nerves seemed more at ease. Nola’s, however, had amped up a few notches thanks to Chase’s presence.

  As Nola reviewed the questions with Kay, Chase managed to squeeze in beside her despite her best efforts to keep a piece of furniture or other object between them.

  “Can we talk afterward?” Chase asked when he could get a word in.

  “Not if you’re going to walk out on me again,” Nola whispered, not wanting Kay to overhear their conversation. “I know I didn’t exactly handle things perfectly, but still.”

  “How about I start with I’m sorry?” Chase’s warm breath fell upon her neck.

  “I think that would be a good starting point.”

  “Nola, phone call.” One of the stagehands waved her over.

  “Excuse me a moment. And yes, we can talk later.” Nola looked toward Kay. “I’ll be back in a minute. Just have a seat here.”

  Nola ran down the hallway to her office and picked up the phone. “Nola West speaking.”

  “Nola, it’s Tommy over at the Times.” Tommy was one of her go-to sources at the newspaper who always had her back when she needed it. “I just wanted to let you know that Scott David guy you asked me about came in here earlier making claims that your boyfriend’s family stole his land. There was no way I could stop the story from running. It’ll be in the online edition in an hour or so and they plan to run it as a front-page story in the morning.”

  “How can they do that without even speaking with the Langtrys? Why aren’t they fact-checking? There’s a lot more to this story than meets the eye.”

  “They’ve already sent a reporter over to their ranch. You may want to give them a heads-up.”

  “Thank you, Tommy.” Nola squeezed her eyes tight as she hung up the phone. Her head began to throb.

  “Nola, you’re on in five.”


  What am I going to do? Mentally she ran through her list of options. She couldn’t pull Kay from the interview. It was a live segment. She needed to give the woman a chance to defend her husband before the media ran wild with it. There was no time to warn her.

  Nola’s mouth went dry and a lump formed in her throat when she realized there was only one choice—Nola had to break the story first.

  Chapter Eleven

  Chase watched Nola arrive on set with only seconds to spare. A stagehand practically tripped over her as he clipped a microphone to her suit jacket.

  Nola leaned toward Kay and whispered, “There’s been a change. Just follow my lead and please trust me.”

  Panicked, Kay looked toward Chase standing off set. She clasped her hands tightly in front of her as the floor manager counted them down. And she began.

  “Hello, I’m Nola West, here today with Kay Langtry of the Bridle Dance Ranch in Ramblewood. Welcome to our show.”

  “Thank you for having me,” Kay said.

  “For the viewers who aren’t already familiar with the Langtry family, Bridle Dance is one of the state’s largest paint and quarter cutting horse ranches, in addition to a winery and a sod farm. Two years ago, Kay, your sons opened the Ride ’em High! Rodeo School and you are the CEO of the Dance of Hope Hippotherapy Center. Can you tell me a bit about Dance of Hope?”

  “Hippotherapy utilizes a horse’s movements to treat people with various injuries and disabilities. Dance of Hope is a nonprofit organization that welcomes everyone—nobody is ever turned away because of their inability to pay. We have guest cottages where families can stay while their loved ones go through therapy. Many members of our staff reside on the ranch, so there is always somebody there to provide the best possible care.”

  Chase had to hand it to his mother. As nervous as she was on the inside, she appeared confident throughout her responses. He wondered why Nola had led off with that particular line of questioning.