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Mistletoe Rodeo
Mistletoe Rodeo
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Mistletoe Rodeo

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REPORTING FROM THE side of a war-torn highway in Kuwait had been easier than tracking down Chase Langtry in Nevada. He’d managed to avoid her at every turn. Her studio had shelled out big bucks for Nola to secure the interview, although they had anticipated it would be about a local cowboy making good. Once her news director had heard of Chase’s disastrous ride, he’d dangled the upcoming KWTT co-anchor position in front of Nola. He had warned her if she ever expected to get anywhere in this business, she had better start bringing in some harder-hitting stories. The rise and fall of the rodeo star was a start.

When she had seen Chase drowning his sorrows in the hotel bar last night, she’d felt a tinge sorry for him—but it had been short-lived. Based on everything her cousin Kylie had told her about the Langtrys, the four brothers had had their lives, and then some, handed to them on a silver platter. The famously rich “First Family of Ramblewood” had it all. If losing the championship at the National Finals Rodeo was the worst thing that had happened to Chase, then he needed to count his blessings. She’d seen people take some serious knocks in life, and losing a rodeo competition didn’t even come close.

Nola had first interviewed Chase and the Langtry family two and a half years ago at the grand opening of the Ride ’em High! Rodeo School and Dance of Hope Hippotherapy Center. While Nola had simply adored the mother, Kay, she’d thought the brothers were a little over-the-top and too entitled.

“Would you care for a drink?” a flight attendant asked.

“Scotch, please.” No girly drinks for Nola. She’d learned how to drink around military men, and unless it burned on the way down, it didn’t classify as a drink.

They both looked at Chase when he didn’t respond, but he was oblivious with his headphones tucked firmly in place. After a quick nudge from Nola’s elbow, Chase turned the music down long enough to order a bourbon and then quickly resumed sulking in the corner.

Nola had known Chase would travel first class and had convinced her news director, Pete, to approve her ticket upgrade only to discover she was seated a few rows behind the cowboy. After a little flirtation with the man originally assigned to her seat, Nola had managed to finagle her way beside Chase.

If he’d remove those damn things from his ears and talk to her, she might have something worth reporting. A brooding cowboy didn’t make much of a headline, but a man battling his inner demons might be enough to satisfy both the station and Chase. After all, there were two sides to every story, but Chase needed to open up in order for Nola to save his reputation and possibly his wounded pride.

So Nola did what her seven years in the Army had trained her to do. She improvised. When the flight attendant handed Nola her drink, she purposely bumped it so it spilled on Chase’s iPod.

“Oh, you’re good.” Chase pushed back his ball cap, exposing more of his tousled blond hair. He stared at her with a piercing turquoise glare that would’ve intimidated most people, but Nola had covered the news from the landmine-ridden Persian Gulf countryside and had witnessed the other side of evil. Chase didn’t come close.

“I’ve got to hand it to you, Nola—I didn’t see that one coming.”

Nola had to hand it to him. He didn’t get mad or even swear. He just quietly tossed everything into an airline barf bag, earbuds and all.

“It was an accident.” Nola fought to squelch her guilt. “Don’t you carry a spare iPod with you?”

“No, I don’t carry a spare iPod with me,” Chase mocked. “Who would? And please don’t play coy. I don’t believe that was an accident. You’re too precise and calculating for that to happen.”

Nola recoiled at his remark, though it wasn’t completely off base. She had learned to maintain discipline out of necessity and survival. There had been a time in her life when Reckless was her middle name.

“Okay, you have my attention.” Chase dabbed at his jeans with the tissues she handed him from her bag. “What do you want to talk about? I already told you no interviews, so I hope you don’t think this will change anything.”

“Do you have any plans for the holidays?” Nola had covered Chase enough times to know the way to his heart was through his family. “I bet Kay goes all out, doesn’t she?”

“Even more now that she has the grandkids around.” Chase’s broad shoulders relaxed a bit and he settled back as he spoke, confirming to Nola that she knew how to read her interviewees. “It’s not only my mother, though. The entire town goes a little overboard,” Chase said drily. “Haven’t you ever been to Ramblewood over the holidays?” He paused. “I just realized I don’t know where you live.”

“I have a small condo in Willow Tree.” Even though she only lived a half hour from Ramblewood, Nola purposely avoided the town during the holidays despite Kylie’s best efforts to persuade her to join the annual festivities.

“Willow Tree, really? Nice place. You know, you’ve interviewed me a dozen times and I know absolutely nothing about you. Let’s try this a different way. If you’re game, why not let me have the honor of interviewing you for the rest of the flight home?”

Nola wasn’t used to someone turning the tables on her and it made her a tad uncomfortable. That and the fact that her Spanx was cutting off her air supply. She didn’t normally wear the Lycra from hell when she traveled. Standing in it was bad enough, never mind sitting for hours, but she had put it on anticipating an interview when they landed. The camera really did add ten pounds.

Beads of sweat began to form across her forehead. Not many people knew Nola the person. It was the nature of the job—she asked the questions, not the other way around. Nola’s growing attraction to the bachelor cowboy compounded her discomfort. The close quarters only added to her interest in the man. Chase grinned and Nola found herself unable to say no.

“Fine.” Nola shrugged and braced herself. “Ask me anything you want. It’s only fair.”

“How did you know I’d be on this flight?”

Nola laughed, expecting a completely different line of questioning. “It was a hunch. I figured you’d want to avoid everyone back home, so you’d book a red-eye flight. Looks as if I was right.”

“Your perception is dangerous.” Chase’s smile told her he was teasing but his deep, throaty voice hinted at its own danger.

“You have no idea how dangerous I can be,” she answered. What am I doing? Flirting with an interviewee was not a good idea. It wasn’t forbidden, but it wasn’t professional, either.

“I know Kylie and your aunt and uncle, but I don’t remember you when we were growing up. Is your family from Texas?”

“My family is from everywhere,” Nola answered. “I was raised in the Army, born in New Orleans—my name is an acronym for New Orleans, Louisiana—and I’ve lived in seventeen different countries and can speak eight languages rather fluently.”

“I’m impressed. So you’re a military brat?” Chase nodded and smiled, a hint of laughter bubbling underneath. “That explains your precise and calculating nature.”

“Well, that and the fact that I’ve served in the Army myself. I did three tours on the front lines and I’m still on inactive duty for the next year.”

Nola enjoyed watching the smile slide from Chase’s face. She wanted to tell herself that it didn’t matter what he thought, but it stung a bit to know he wasn’t the least bit interested in her. If he had been, he would’ve taken the time to read her bio on KWTT’s website. Nola’s military past was all there.

“I had no idea.” Chase flagged down a flight attendant. “May I have another round of drinks for myself and my traveling companion here?”

The flight attendant quickly returned with fresh glasses of ice and tiny airline bottles. “What are you doing?” Nola asked.

Twisting off the tops of both, Chase poured the amber liquid into their glasses. He lifted his in the air. “Here’s to you, soldier. Thank you for your commitment and sacrifice for our country.”

“Thank you.” Nola touched her glass to his. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to get me drunk. This is my limit. I have to drive home once we land.”

“Maybe I just wanted to relax you enough that you’d stop thinking about the interview you’re not going to get.” Chase laughed. “In all seriousness, though, Nola, I applaud your bravery. When I was in high school I considered enlisting, but I chickened out. What division were you in?”

Chase’s admiration should have flattered Nola, and it would have if she had joined the Army willingly. But it had been either the Army or jail, and the military had seemed like a much better option.

“You mean what division am I in. I’m a public affairs broadcast specialist, and they can call me to active duty at any time.”

“Are you scared?”

Nola detected genuine concern in Chase’s voice, and the unexpected tug at her heart knocked her slightly off-balance.

“Believe me—I understand the definition of the word scared. When I was in the Middle East, I covered the most gruesome stories you could imagine. Aside from that, active duty would derail my career. By law, the studio has to hold my position, but that doesn’t mean they won’t find someone better in the meantime. I can receive new orders with only a couple of days’ notice to get my affairs in order and be ready to go. Yes, it makes me nervous, especially whenever I hear they’re sending more troops overseas. I’m sure I’ll remain that way until Thanksgiving Day next year.”

Once that day finally rolled around, Nola’s sentence would be complete. At least the physical one. She’d have to live with the reality of what she’d done—the life she’d taken—forever.

* * *

AN UNSETTLED FEELING washed over Chase when Nola mentioned that active duty was a real possibility. A softened, unsteady tone replaced the matter-of-fact, in-control voice she usually had. He felt like a moron.

“Are you smirking?” Nola asked, slightly defensive.

“I have a confession. When you sat down earlier, I thought how nice it would be to get you dirty and show you what real work was like. Now I’m thinking you could not only teach me a thing or two, but you could probably kick my ass.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Nola raised her glass. “And yes, I probably could.”

The more she told him about her army life, the more Chase forgot she was a reporter. She was easy to talk to.

“Is your family stateside?” Chase felt like a fool for not knowing more about Nola. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t had the opportunity over the past year. She’d covered every local event he’d been in and she’d been out to his family’s ranch numerous times. But he’d always been the focus of the conversation. Chase cringed. Nola was right—he had only been thinking of himself.

“My parents are stationed in the Netherlands and my brother is in Germany with his family. I have nieces and nephews I’ve never met. We lived in Texas for a year when I was in high school. Of all the places we’d been stationed, it was my favorite. With the Army’s assistance, I completed my education and took a position at KWTT.”

There it was again. A touch of sadness, only this time it appeared when she spoke of her family. Chase couldn’t fathom not having his ever-multiplying and perpetually boisterous relatives nearby.

“I bet the holidays were exciting when you were growing up.” Chase attempted to lighten the mood. “With you living among different cultures and traditions and all.”

“They were anything but.” Nola shifted in her seat, seemingly a little uncomfortable with his line of questioning. Chase wondered if that was how he appeared when he was interviewed. “We didn’t see my father for months at a time, sometimes longer, and I can only remember a handful of Christmases where we were all together. Mom was usually depressed over the holidays, so they weren’t a big deal to us kids.”

Chase turned farther in his seat to face her. Despite her indifferent tone, he noticed a slight pulsation in her jaw. Christmas should be a happy occasion for every child. “Tell you what, I’ll grant you an interview if you focus on the Mistletoe Rodeo and the charity auction instead of me.”

Chase thought it was a cardinal sin that Nola hadn’t experienced an old-fashioned Texas Christmas. If he kept himself occupied with showing her some down-home holiday spirit, maybe he wouldn’t feel so lonely this year. Besides, who didn’t love a good Christmas story? Her viewers should eat it up.

“You want me to do a feature about a Christmas show?” Nola looked down at her hands. “No offense, but in the industry, we call that a puff piece.”

Not quite the response Chase had expected, but he was quickly learning that nothing with Nola was predictable.

Chase winced as pain crept into his shoulder again. At this rate, he doubted if he’d even be able to perform in the Mistletoe Rodeo in a couple of weeks. Although it was only an exhibition event, Chase needed to be in much better condition before he could even consider it. As it stood, he was potentially facing surgery.

“How bad is it?” Nola asked as Chase rubbed his shoulder.

“I pulled ligaments a few weeks ago and it still hasn’t fully healed.” Chase nonchalantly lowered his hand, afraid Nola would pick up too much from his discomfort. His doctor had prescribed pain relievers, but he wasn’t a big fan. He hated the side effects, preferring pain to the feeling of being out of sorts, especially when on top of a one-ton animal.

“You competed injured?” Nola asked. “Why would you take the risk?”

He ground his teeth. “Nola, we agreed not to discuss this.”

“This is strictly off the record,” Nola insisted. “Does your family know? Did your team and your sponsors think it was a good idea?”

“This wasn’t exactly my first rodeo,” Chase countered. “I’m also smart enough to know nothing is ever off the record when it comes to the media.”

They sat in silence for the next few minutes. Chase was tired of the constant scrutiny he received from the news outlets, but that was what the rodeo was about—someone was always judging your performance. Chase had made his decision the moment he’d hit the dirt facedown in the middle of the Thomas & Mack Center arena. It was time to retire and devote his attention to the rodeo school and his family’s ranch.

“Nola, I’m sorry. I’ve had a rough couple of days and I’m taking it out on you. You don’t deserve it.”

“No, I understand. I came after you like a barracuda. I didn’t mean to insult you with my puff piece comment, either.” Nola rested her hand on his. The warmth of her touch made him instantly grateful they weren’t alone. As luxurious as flying first class was, it was far from a romantic setting. “The station expects me to come back with a story and I don’t have one. Sugarplums and mistletoe won’t cut it, but if you let me tell them you fought through the pain and were determined not to let your hometown down, it would put you in a better light.”

Chase withdrew his hand and faced the darkened window. “Does it really look that bad?”

“It’s not that it looks bad. It just—it could be better if you let me spin it.”

Chase squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted nothing more than to find a way to ease the disappointment his hometown felt over his loss. “Why should I trust you?”

“Oh, Chase, why shouldn’t you? I’m not out to hurt you and this is the nightly news, not TMZ. I’ll tell you what.” Chase heard Nola’s nails click against her iPad screen. Curiosity got the better of him and he faced her again. “What if I agree to cover the Mistletoe Rodeo and you allow me to do a brief interview about how you were injured before the competition? And just to prove to you that we won’t take anything you say out of context, we’ll do an interview when we land. It will be a lead-in to the Mistletoe Rodeo story.”

When Chase had suggested the Mistletoe Rodeo and charity auction to Nola, he’d hoped to deflect the community’s attention away from his recent failure. But he knew that avoiding the subject wouldn’t make the town forget it happened. Spending time with Nola was either an unexpected bonus or a curse. He hadn’t quite made up his mind yet.

“I guess that’s fair enough, but no interviews when we land. How about you and George come out to the ranch tomorrow—well, later today, at this point—and Lord willing we’ll get an interview with my mother since she’s chairing the event. She seemed at ease with the other interviews you’ve conducted with her, so it shouldn’t take too much persuading, although she may shoot me for the short notice. Too bad school’s still in session or I’d tell George to bring his children along with him. Maybe I’ll even put you to work with the horses.”

“You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you?” Nola’s laugh was contagious. Chase had to keep his head straight and remind himself this visit was for an interview and nothing more.

“For a military girl like you, a day at the ranch should be a cakewalk. I expect you to be in jeans tomorrow—not all perfectly coiffed.”

“Coiffed?” Nola snickered.

“Hey, my sisters-in-law have taught me a thing or two about the female persuasion.”

“You’ve got a deal, cowboy.” Nola offered her hand and they shook on it.

Chase held on longer than he probably should have, but he suddenly found himself looking forward to the holidays at home. He was aware that Nola had only agreed to cover the Mistletoe Rodeo, but in that moment, he had an incredible desire to show her a Christmas she’d never forget.

Chapter Two (#ulink_097d6310-bc45-5b19-a230-939e84390c1d)

Nola dreaded the holidays. They were lonely and depressing. One of the drawbacks of military life was that most of Nola’s friends were scattered throughout the world. Even though her cameraman, George, had said she was more than welcome to join them for the holidays, she didn’t want to intrude on his family time. His wife was cordial enough, but Nola got the distinct impression Betty would prefer her husband spend a little less time around his female colleague.

When their plane touched down, the reality of what she’d agreed to began to set in. More time with Chase Langtry meant having to endure an extended Hallmark moment at the Bridle Dance Ranch. His home life was sweet, touching and idyllic, and Nola wanted it for herself. In all her travels, she’d never met people like the Langtrys. No matter how many times she had interviewed them, she always walked away yearning for a place to call home and a family with which to share her celebrations.

It wasn’t only Christmas—it was birthdays and anniversaries, too. Being alone was hard, and while she had some family relatively nearby, they hadn’t been close when Nola was growing up. She felt like an outsider every time she visited.

After agreeing to meet George later for their interview at Bridle Dance, Nola said goodbye to him and Betty. Chase walked with her to the parking area but stopped abruptly and looked around.

“What’s wrong?” Nola asked. “Did you forget where you parked?”

“No.” Chase took off his ball cap and raked his hand through his hair before tugging his cell phone from his pocket. “I forgot that when I sent Shane and my mother home ahead of me, I told them to take the Navigator. I guess I’ll call car service.”

“Chase, you live more than an hour away from here. Let me give you a ride home.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.” Chase scrolled through his phone.

“Why not? I have to drive past Ramblewood anyway. Come on. I won’t take no for an answer.”

Nola continued walking toward her car, not bothering to wait for Chase. She figured he’d eventually follow. Waiting for car service was ridiculous when they were headed in the same direction.

“You have to let me pay for the gas, at least.” She heard the sound of Chase’s boots trudging after her.

“Deal.”

The sun rose over the interstate, creating what Nola deemed a romantic ambiance inside her vintage red Volkswagen Beetle. When Nola was a girl, she had fantasized about riding in an old pickup truck with a bench seat and a cowboy at the wheel, his arm draped across her shoulders. She didn’t need a knight in shining armor—her fairy tale was much simpler. Not that Chase could be a part of that fairy tale. He was definitely eye candy, and when he wasn’t grumpy from losing, he was generally pleasant to talk with. But he also came from a respectable family—one that wouldn’t want anything to do with her past.

“I’m sure you’re tired, but would you allow me to buy you breakfast as a thank-you?” Chase broke into her thoughts.

“I could eat,” Nola agreed. “Where did you have in mind?”

“The Magpie?”

Of course. Instead of somewhere less cozy like the Waffle House, it was just like Chase to choose the quintessential luncheonette in the heart of the quintessential town. She loved the quirky little place, but whenever she left it, she found herself yearning for something she didn’t have. Nola didn’t want to be that person who always wanted more. She was grateful for what she had in life—especially the second chance she’d been given.

“The Magpie sounds wonderful.”

Once they arrived and Chase had endured a couple rounds of “you’ll win it next year,” they slid into the booth farthest away from everyone’s stares.