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.
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