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So much for not embarrassing herself.
Chapter Three (#ulink_e2f7f74d-2b9c-5c0e-b7e8-b7549d24c666)
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.
“Are you able to walk and talk?” Nola asked, bringing Chase back to his senses.
Chase laughed. “Since I was a year-and-a-half old, yeah. I think I can handle it.”
“That didn’t come out quite right.”
Chase rubbed the back of his neck and picked up the Stetson he had left on one of the rocking chairs earlier. “You make me nervous.” It was an honest statement. One he feared left him a little too vulnerable where Nola was concerned.
Nola took his hand in hers and led him down the porch stairs toward the stables while George walked ahead of them with his camera, mumbling something about having to find their best light. Releasing Chase’s hand, Nola instructed, “Relax, be natural and think of me as one of your friends.” Only one problem with that statement. Chase didn’t make a habit of holding hands with his friends, and in less than twenty-four hours, he had done so repeatedly with Nola.
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.”
