Amanda Renee - Mistletoe Rodeo

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.