Amanda Renee - Mistletoe Rodeo

“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.”

“You asked me to trust you, and I have confidence in your abilities.”

Talk about pressure. Nola didn’t have a crystal ball and she couldn’t predict how people would perceive the video, but in her experience, this was a good reel.

“Chase, there are no guarantees in life and I can’t promise this will go over the way I intend it to. I think it will, but public perception is a crapshoot.”

“I have faith in you.”

Within minutes, the final cut was on its way to the studio and Nola called the station to let them know. She was nervous about Pete’s reaction, especially because this wasn’t the piece he was expecting, but weaved in with the Mistletoe Rodeo lead, Nola hoped he’d be pleased.

“Usually my segment runs around six forty-five, give or take a few minutes, in case you want to watch it or let anyone else know it’s on.”

“I think I’ll pass. I don’t watch myself unless I’ve had a bad ride and need to figure out what to correct.”

“Fair enough. I guess that wraps everything up here.” Nola hesitated, hating to end the afternoon. “So I’ll call you regarding the food bank—if you’re still okay with arranging it.”

“Are you two leaving already?” Kay walked toward the van. “Stay and have dinner with us. I have steaks and chicken marinating. We’re grilling out tonight and I have more than enough food.”

“I have to get home to my wife and kids,” George said. “But Nola’s free.”

“Wonderful. I’ll set another place at the table.” Kay turned, heading to the house.

“Nothing like a good old-fashioned ambush to get your heart pumping.” Chase laughed.

“George, you’re my ride home,” Nola said through clenched teeth. The nerve of that man to offer her up to the Langtrys. She’d figured he’d pull some sort of stunt, but in a way, she was secretly thrilled that he had.

“I’ll take you home,” Chase offered. “My way of returning the favor from this morning. But if you don’t want to stay and would rather disappoint my mother, I perfectly understand.”