“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
