Mistletoe Rodeo (Welcome to Ramblewood) (12 page)

Chase took a step toward her, removing the camera from her hands and setting it on the dresser. Tilting her chin up to him, he kissed her lips gently. “Who hurt you so badly?”

Nola closed her eyes, willing back the tears that threatened to spill forth at any moment.

“I promise never to hurt you.” Chase kissed her cheeks, then her neck, slowly easing the neckline of her T-shirt to the side and trailing more kisses across her collarbone.

Nola ran her hands across the front of his thermal shirt, enjoying the way the muscles flexed beneath her fingertips. He was strong and virile and Nola felt safe in his arms. She loosened his top from his waistband and slid her hands beneath it, enjoying the smooth lines of his skin.

Chase lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it onto the bed. Gripping the sides of her T-shirt, he did the same. Nola immediately dropped her gaze to the floor. Hearing Chase gasp and sensing his hesitation, she couldn’t bear to meet his eyes. She knew he could see the scars crisscrossing her chest and abdomen. They would always be there, serving as a constant reminder of what she had done. Without a word, Chase eased her onto the bed and cupped her breasts over her bra. Her flesh ached, begging to be touched.

Chase gently removed the remainder of her clothing and Nola lay on the bed before him more exposed than she’d ever been with anyone. She watched as he removed his own clothes, then stood at the foot of the bed. Starting at her toes, Chase slowly kissed his way toward her mouth, causing a tormented groan to escape her throat. His hard body rose above hers as he slowly inched his way between her thighs.

Lost in the moment, Nola rode the wave of pleasure along with him. When it was over, Chase pulled her into his arms, and she rested her head against his beating heart. The sound was one she could easily get used to.

“Tell me what happened to you,” Chase whispered against her hair.

“I was in a car accident and I was thrown through the windshield.” Nola felt Chase stiffen.

“That had to have been horrible.” His fingers gently combed her hair. “How did it happen?”

“I was eighteen, having a really tough time in another new school and I got involved with the wrong crowd.” Chase continued to stroke her hair while he listened. “My parents and I had gotten into an argument that night and I stole a bottle of Dad’s vodka.”

Chase’s hand stilled. “Nola, no.”

“I had the radio blaring, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the bottle. I had probably drunk half of it when I hit another car. They say I was going seventy miles an hour when I was ejected. The woman I hit lost one of her legs. The doctors never thought I’d survive the first week. I was in a medically induced coma while I healed.”

“Your parents had to have been frantic.” Chase pulled her tighter to him. “Were they angry? Is that why you don’t have much of a relationship with them nowadays?”

Nola knew if she didn’t tell Chase the truth, the whole truth right now, she might never have the nerve. “When they had me admitted into the hospital they discovered I was three months pregnant. I’d had no idea—I only learned about it after they brought me out of my coma. There was no possible way my baby could have survived the impact I sustained.” Nola heard Chase’s heartbeat quicken and she began to shiver. “That was also when they told me they’d performed an emergency hysterectomy and I would never be able to have children.”

Chase’s entire body went rigid. Nola pressed her face to his chest, too afraid to see the disappointment in his expression—the disappointment and the disgust for what she’d done. When the pain of lying next to him, waiting for him to speak, became too unbearable, Nola unwrapped herself from him and scooted to the edge of the bed, pulling the blanket around her.

“Nola, don’t. I’m sorry you went through all of that.” Chase reached for her, but she moved farther away. “I’m just trying to process it all. I wish you had told me sooner.”

“It’s not something you blurt out in the middle of a conversation.” Nola stood and pulled on her clothes, desperate to feel covered again. “I had no idea where this relationship was going or... It doesn’t matter. It’s obvious now. I can talk until I’m blue in the face and it won’t change the way you feel.”

“That’s not fair. You don’t know how I feel. I don’t even know how I feel.” Chase’s tone softened as he tugged on his clothes. “I respect how personal this is for you, and I totally understand why you didn’t tell me right away. Honey, I do. But why didn’t you at least say you didn’t want kids? You could have left out the details. You heard me going on this afternoon about how I want children. I want a house full of them, and you’re telling me it’s not possible with you. I’m trying to make sense of that. I wish you’d given me some idea so I could have made an informed decision before this went too far.” As soon as the words were out of Chase’s mouth, he wished he could take them back.

“You think we went too far?” Nola spun on him. “You stand there all high and mighty, giving me a load of crap, telling me you’ll never hurt me. Here’s a newsflash for you—you can’t hurt me. No one can, ever again. Hurt is living with what I did. I ended my baby’s life! I lost any chance of conceiving. Don’t you get it? I don’t deserve to be a mother. A woman lost her leg because of me. And do you know what she did? She asked the court for leniency on my behalf.” Nola squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “You once thanked me for my service in the Army, but the only reason I was there was because I had a brilliant attorney, thanks to good ol’ Dad. It was his only gift to me. I was offered a choice—eight years in the service or five years in jail with a third-degree felony conviction. I chose the Army. It was familiar to me and I knew I could handle it. But it was the coward’s way out. I deserved jail. I didn’t even deserve the plastic surgery I had on my face, which is why I chose not to have any more. I killed my child. I maimed another human being. That’s hurt.
You
can’t hurt me.”

Nola couldn’t stand Chase staring at her for another second. She stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. She had known this wasn’t going to end well. No matter how many times she had tried to convince herself that he would understand, that he would tell her it was okay and that he didn’t judge her for what she’d done, she’d known that once she’d told Chase the truth it would be the end. Her whole relationship with Chase Langtry had been one big fat fantasy.

Nola heard her front door click shut. It was a sound she was familiar with—the sound of another door closing.

Chapter Ten

Chase was livid by the time he reached the ranch. Injury be damned, he needed to go for a ride. Lifting the saddle off the stand in the tack room sent a twinge of pain through his shoulder. Normally he’d ask one of the grooms to saddle Bocephus, but after Nola had called him high and mighty, Chase wanted to do it himself. Lord knew he’d saddled thousands of horses in his thirty years. There wasn’t a job on this ranch that Chase hadn’t done.

High atop his mount, Chase wound his way along one of the ranch’s many trails. How could Nola presume to tell him how he felt? He wanted a family of his own and he’d thought he’d found the woman to share that with. He had envisioned it—Nola and his children, running around the ranch—as if it had been within his grasp. How could he have been so foolish? They hadn’t known each other long enough for him to have any right to think that way.

Chase didn’t want to hurt Nola, but he couldn’t stay with her, either. And it clawed at his heart. He’d gotten involved too deep, too fast. If she had only told him before he’d invested in the relationship—before they’d slept together. He’d trusted her, bared his soul to her about his dreams and his fears. She could have told him then. Chase felt cheated. Nola had been the only woman he’d ever seen a future with, and now it was impossible.

The thunder of hooves sounded behind him. He turned to see Shane quickly closing the distance between them. “Go back to the stables,” Chase called over his shoulder. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.” Shane made no move to leave.

“Suit yourself.” Chase nudged Bocephus into a canter. A similar gait echoed behind him. Despite his protest, apparently Shane wasn’t about to let him ride alone. When Chase reached a section of Cooter Creek that ran through their land, he slowed his horse to a walk. The December sun was warmer than normal, making his long-sleeved shirt feel stifling. Chase climbed down from the saddle and led Bocephus to the creek for a drink.

Removing his hat, Chase splashed water on his face in a vain attempt to cool down. Even with his body temperature lowered, his internal barometer was still off the charts. Shane continued to maintain a distance while remaining in sight.

“Why are you here?” Chase called down the creek to his brother.

“I didn’t like the way you tore out of the stables. And with your shoulder I wanted to make sure you didn’t fall.”

“Bullshit.” Chase rose and pulled his hat down low. “We’ve all gone out on rides, injured, angry or both—we’ve never followed each other for protection.”

“There’s a difference between riding with an injury and riding with a broken heart.” Shane led his horse toward Chase. “Remember when Jesse fell off his horse after that big blowup with Miranda?”

“How could I forget?” Chase thought back to the weeks immediately following his father’s death. “That’s when Miranda came back to him.”

“I missed the majority of that because I was off somewhere being an ass, but thank God his injuries weren’t as bad as they’d looked.” Shane patted his horse’s neck. “Chase, you’ve always wanted to be more involved in the family business, and it’s commendable. If I ever made you feel like you had to choose something other than what you wanted for yourself, it wasn’t my intention.”

“You didn’t.” It was a rare occasion when Shane apologized for something. “For a while I thought I could be Superman and do it all, but I devoted the majority of my time to the rodeo, leaving the burden of the school and the ranch on the rest of you. In the end, I weighed what meant the most to me. As much as I love the rodeo, it was time to walk away. Something had to give and, while I always thought it would be my sanity, it turned out to be my shoulder. It was a blessing in disguise. It helped me make the decision I’ve been struggling with for a long time.”

Shane knelt by the creek and cupped a handful of water. “Leaving the rodeo’s like ending a relationship. For years, Lexi accused me of putting it before everything else...and she was right. Let me tell you, as much as you tend to shy away from the spotlight, you’re going to miss it when it’s gone.”

“I’m sure I will.” Chase dug his boots into the loose gravel along the creek. “At least when you retired, you had Lexi for support.”

“Things over with Nola?”

“She can’t have children.” His brother didn’t need to know the specifics. “Her timing for telling me really sucked.”

“Ah.” Shane caught his meaning. “There are other options available to you guys, you know. It doesn’t mean you have to break up. Look at Tess and Cole. They adopted Ever and they’re already talking about the possibility of adopting again.”

“It doesn’t even sound as if Nola wants to be a mother.” Chase exhaled sharply. “I probably didn’t handle it as well as I could have. I was shocked at the when and why.”

Shane whistled. “That’s tough. I know how much having a family means to you.”

“Do you and Lexi ever talk about having another kid?”

Shane shook his head. “As much as I love Hunter, I’m still adjusting to the fact that he’s mine. Don’t get me wrong—I’m appreciative for every minute his adoptive parents have granted us, but some days it still doesn’t feel real to me. I never saw myself having kids. I never wanted them until Dylan was born. Being there for the first year of his life, well, that’s a feeling like no other you’ll ever experience. And when I found out he wasn’t mine... I don’t wish that heartbreak on my worst enemy. Lexi and I came into this marriage with a ton of baggage, all of it my fault because of one mistake I made when I was eighteen. Lexi will carry the scars of giving up Hunter forever, and I will never forget Dylan. Emotionally, I don’t think either one of us will ever be ready to have another child.”

Shane had been the same age Nola was when her life had come to a crashing halt. Through his brother, Chase had witnessed firsthand how a mistake could eat away at your very existence, and he knew Nola had to be living with a similar pain. He was afraid his walking out on her earlier might have looked as if he was judging her for what had happened seven years ago, but it wasn’t that at all.

“Maybe some time apart will do us good.” A family of his own meant everything to him. He knew the available options. He loved his niece, Ever, as if she were his own flesh and blood. And he’d love another child if Tess and Cole decide to adopt again. “I don’t know if I’m ready to give up the idea of having a child of my own for Nola.”

“What does your heart tell you?” Shane asked.

“That our time together has been unlike any I’ve experienced with other women.” But now Chase found himself questioning if his feelings for Nola had even been real. “And before you say it, I can’t be in love with her.”

Shane laughed. “Why not?”

“Love takes time.” And he had looked forward to that time with Nola, probably more than he was willing to admit to himself.

“I’ll leave you with one piece of advice, even though you may not want to hear it.” Shane swung himself into his saddle and nudged his horse away from the creek. “This morning’s talk with Nola hurt, but so does falling off a horse for the first time. You need to realize where you went wrong, brush yourself off and do your best not to repeat the same mistake.”

Mistake
. Even now, Nola didn’t feel like a mistake. She had fit perfectly—with him, with his life, with his family. Was it possible for him to get past the kid issue? Chase didn’t think so. Why should he give up his dream when she wasn’t even willing to discuss it?

* * *

“
I
F
YOU
SAY
the name Chase Langtry, I promise you they will be the last words you ever speak,” Nola warned George as she climbed into the news van. Nola hated covering car accidents, but it was par for the course when you were an on-the-scene reporter. Just one more reason she wanted the co-anchor position.

“Whoa.” George stilled Nola with his hand. “What happened to you?”

“I told Chase the truth about my past, that’s what happened.” Nola turned in the seat to face George. “I told him and he walked out on me. Prince Charming can go squat with his spurs on for all I care.”

George laughed. “Since when does Prince Charming wear spurs?”

“Shut up and drive.” Nola flipped open her iPad to see if any other stations had arrived on scene yet. A calendar reminder blinked in the center of her screen. “Crap!”

“What’s wrong?” George stopped the van at the edge of the parking lot.

“Keep driving.” Nola waved her hand toward the street. “I completely forgot I have that studio interview with Kay tonight.”

The last thing she wanted to do was face anyone from the Langtry clan. She was certain by now they all knew about her sordid past and they would never look at her the same way again. Breaking up with Chase was one thing, but their being disappointed in her as a human being was another.

“Kay’s a good woman,” George began. “I don’t think she’ll hold anything that happened between you and Chase against you personally.”

“You can continue to live in fantasyland over there in your little corner of the world, but I’m through. I put too much faith into this whole thing with Chase and I got burned. Do you know he had the gall to tell me I should’ve told him I couldn’t have kids sooner? Or at least said that I didn’t want any. We’ve only been dating for a week. We were getting closer. Okay, we were as close as you could possibly get...physically. But still, the time wasn’t right. Yesterday was the first day we were alone, without any interruptions from anyone.”

“Allow me to play devil’s advocate here.” George steered the van onto the interstate. “If the relationship was so new and you’ve only been going out for a week, then why do you sound like it was more than some casual fling with possible future potential? Why are you so angry?”

Nola opened her mouth and then she snapped it shut. Reformulating her thought, she opened her mouth once again only to close it.

George looked in her direction. “Are you catching flies?”

“I don’t have an answer.” Nola sat looking out the passenger window. She couldn’t explain why it bothered her so much.

“Need a little help?”

Nola scoffed. “You think you have the answer?”

“I believe you were not only falling in love with Chase. You were also falling in love with the life and family you never had. He was a package deal, and you knew that from the beginning whether you’re willing to admit it to yourself or not.”

Nola raised a brow at George’s statement, her brain scrambling to find a logical argument against what he was saying. His words hammered in her head as they reached the scene. Nola fought to push them aside and focus on the tragedy unfolding in front of them.

“Park here.” Nola flipped the sun visor down to check her reflection in the mirror. The woman staring back didn’t begin to resemble the way she felt. Carefully applied makeup, hair styled with enough hairspray to shellac all fifty Miss America contestants and a red power suit designed to command attention successfully hid the shattered heart she had tried so carefully to protect.

Connecting her microphone to the battery pack as she walked toward the scene, George followed, his camera already hoisted into position filming the wreckage of the two-car accident. The paramedics had already arrived, and a body lay on the side of the road with a sheet draped over it.

Nola urged herself forward and quickly interviewed the people parked on the shoulder. Nodding to George when she had enough to report, Nola took a deep breath and assumed her position in front of the camera.

“This is Nola West reporting to you from the scene of a tragic accident this morning along I-10. Relatives of the victims tell me the couple and a group of their friends were on their way home to Ozona after attending a concert last night in San Antonio. Opting to leave this morning instead of making the three-hour drive in the dark, the caravan of cars ran into a patch of dense fog. There is one confirmed death and four people are on their way to area hospitals. Names of victims are being withheld at this time until families have been notified.”

Nola stormed back to the van. “Send it to the studio. Let them edit it.” She tossed her microphone into the back and tore off her battery pack. “I hate the news.”

She climbed back into the van and slammed the door.

“Just because the Army said journalism was a good fit for you doesn’t mean you have to make a career out of it.” George closed the side door of the van and joined her up front. “What do you really want, Nola?”

“When I was growing up I dreamed of becoming a United Nations translator.” Nola mused. “We’d lived in so many different countries, and the translators who accompanied us always amazed me. I loved studying foreign cultures and new languages. And the fact that I picked them up easily was one of the very reasons the Army thought being a public affairs broadcast specialist suited me.”

When Nola had chosen the Army over jail, her dreams had ended. Basic training had been ten weeks of pure hell, but she’d reveled in it. It had kept her mind off what she’d done. Based on the results of her vocational aptitude battery, she’d followed boot camp with twelve weeks of advance individual training in the military occupation specialty they had assigned her based on her test results. Journalism hadn’t been her choice. After she had come home on inactive duty, she’d enrolled in Texas A&M’s telecommunications media studies program after receiving credit toward her bachelor’s degree for her time in the Army. Her life hadn’t turned out anything like she had planned.

“Nola, you’re so young,” George said. “You can go back to school and probably get your dream job before you’re thirty. Don’t waste the time you’ve been given. Listen to someone who’s been there.”

Nola sighed. “I’ve thought about it...many times.” But once her life had started rolling in the journalism direction, she’d gone with it. She was good at her job and it had potential, but it just became one more empty goal for her to achieve. Her heart wasn’t in it.

“Then, stop doing this to yourself.”

“George, I appreciate the pep talk, but I can’t worry about this now.” Nola dialed the station to let them know they were leaving the scene and to check whether there were any other stories brewing before heading back to the office so she could prepare for her interview with Kay Langtry.