wasn’t to say some of them hadn’t still been living there into their thirties, But Chase had become more conscious of it now that his birthday was looming.
After their father’s death a few years back, the brothers had collectively decided to remain on the ranch so their mother wouldn’t feel so alone in the stately house. As his brothers married, they left the house one by one, leaving only Chase and Kay. When his rodeo schedule kept him on the road, his brothers would arrange for the grandkids to sleep over. His mother knew what they were up to, but she didn’t complain. She welcomed the company. During the day, the brothers, their wives and their children filled the house with laughter, but the nights were deafeningly quiet once everyone left.
After a shower and change of clothes, Chase was surprisingly alert. He didn’t know if he was still amped up from his disastrous showing in Las Vegas, or if it was the anticipation of Nola coming to the ranch that afternoon.
“I thought I heard you come in.” His mother greeted him as he entered the kitchen. “We weren’t sure when you’d return. How are you doing?”
“I’m surviving. Sore more than anything.” Chase gave his mother a hug. “But I still don’t want to talk about it. I do have something to ask you, though.”
“Whenever one of you boys begins a sentence that way, I know I’m in trouble.” Kay pulled out a kitchen chair and sat with her hands folded in her lap, waiting for a bomb to drop.
“Mom, it’s not bad.” Chase eased into a chair across from her. “Nola West is coming here this afternoon to ask you a few questions about the Mistletoe Rodeo and charity auction. Are you willing to do an on-camera interview?”
Kay’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “When did you and Nola have a conversation? The last I saw, you couldn’t get away from her fast enough.”
“We ended up sitting next to each other on the flight home.”
“Uh-huh.” Kay continued to scrutinize him. “I think there’s more to the story than you’re telling me, but I’ll agree to an interview. I’ve always liked Nola. And I’ve always liked her for you.”
Chase rolled his eyes. “Mom, please don’t play matchmaker.”
“Why not? You could use some romance in your life.” Kay rose and pushed in her chair. “Well, I guess I should find something to wear.”
Chase shook his head and stood. “Nola’s not coming until later this afternoon. You have plenty of time.” He helped himself to a freshly baked apple-pecan muffin from a plate on the counter. “Please promise me you won’t try to push Nola and me together.” Chase thought his mother was about to argue with him when he caught a glint in her eyes. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing, dear. Let me go get myself camera ready. It takes me longer these days, you know.”
As his mom headed upstairs, Chase headed outside. Not willing to face any of the rodeo school students just yet, Chase bypassed the indoor arena and made his way to the ranch’s main office in the stables. Every time he walked through the entrance of what his father had affectionately called the horse mansion, Chase swore he could still hear the man’s laughter. This would be their fourth Christmas without Joe Langtry. People said it would get better with time, but it hadn’t. You learned to deal with the pain and move on, but it never seems to get any better.
The Bridle Dance offices were on the second level of the arts-and-crafts style building. Halfway up the open staircase, Chase stopped and looked around. The building had four quadrants, and from his vantage point he could survey each corridor of his father’s masterpiece. The ranch, originally only a handful of acres, had been a wedding gift from his great-grandfather to his great-grandmother. Chase’s eldest brother, Cole, and his wife, Tess, lived in the original cottage. Over the decades, the Langtrys had expanded the property into a quarter-of-a-million-acre estate. Today, Bridle Dance was one of the state’s largest paint and quarter cutting horse ranches.
His father had retired from the rodeo the day before Cole was born. Now the time had come for Chase to make that decision—the hardest of his life. He felt he owed it to his family to devote more time to the business. Hopefully everything else would fall into place soon after.
Chase climbed the remainder of the stairs and was relieved to find Cole alone. He cleared his throat.
“Hey.”
Cole spun around in his chair. “I didn’t expect to see you until much later. I’m surprised you’re still awake.” He rose and gave Chase a manly, back-patting hug.
“So am I.” Chase walked over to one of the windows overlooking the ranch. “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure.” Cole fixed two cups of coffee in the office’s minikitchen and handed one to his younger brother. Chase appreciated not being drilled about Las Vegas. A former rodeo rider himself, Cole was familiar with the disappointment of not winning.
Being the eldest of the four Langtry brothers, Cole had become the patriarch of the family since their father’s death, and Chase wanted to discuss his decision with him before he told anyone else. He took a seat across from Cole.
“That was my last competitive ride.” The relief of actually saying the words was greater than he had anticipated. “The doctors warned me a few weeks ago that I wouldn’t be able to recover from too many more injuries. I’d rather walk away than be told I can’t compete anymore. I already know there’s a good chance I’ll need surgery on my shoulder if the physical therapy doesn’t help this time.”
“I can’t say I blame you for wanting to make the decision yourself,” Cole said. “Do you know what you want to do next?”
“I’m going to continue with the school, of course. Shane could use a break after carrying my weight all this time. But I also want to put in more time here at the ranch. I haven’t been able to do it before and it’s important to me to be a part of Dad’s legacy.”
“There’s certainly plenty of work to go around.” Cole sipped his coffee. “Have you spoken to your agent or your sponsors about this yet?”
“No. I wanted to talk to you first. I don’t even know where to begin.”
Chase wasn’t just walking away from the rodeo—he was walking away from multiple paychecks from the various companies sponsoring him. Luckily, his agent was firm on only signing year-to-year contracts. This being the end of the rodeo season, Chase was free and clear to walk away.
“Financially you’re okay since the balance of your trust comes due on your thirtieth birthday. Call your agent and tell him your decision, but give yourself a couple days before you do. You may even want to wait until after the holidays. Once you tell him, he’ll talk to your publicist and they’ll handle it from there. Be prepared for an onslaught of phone calls. Walking away isn’t easy.”
“Neither is telling Shane.” Chase still wasn’t sure how he was going to break it to him. “He’s been living vicariously through me for the past two years.”
“Shane walked away from the rodeo, too. Granted he didn’t have an injury hanging over his head, but he did it midseason and there were quite a few repercussions surrounding his decision. You have my support, but I mean it when I say take the holidays to come to terms with this and be a hundred percent positive this is what you want before you announce it publicly. Enjoy some downtime for a change.”
