Mistletoe Rodeo. Laura Marie Altom

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      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. СКАЧАТЬ