Free Mistletoe Rodeo (Welcome to Ramblewood) by Amanda Renee Page A

on the food bank, and last night I discovered most towns around here don’t even have one of their own. I’ll admit, at first I thought this was a puff piece. But the more I spoke with Kay Langtry, the more I was convinced this is newsworthy. I would be happy to show you the footage we didn’t use last night—I think you’ll see what I mean.”
    “Nola,” Pete argued. “Listen, you’re a strong journalist, but—”
    Nola held up her hand and stood. “It’s a solid story if you give it half a chance. And an important one for our community and nationwide. Please don’t belittle my decision to cover it. You have the final say, but if I’m the strong journalist you say I am, then you need to trust my instincts.”
    “I’m not questioning your instincts.” Pete straightened, trying to maintain his height advantage.
    “Yes, you are.” Nola took a step toward him. “We broadcast to a farming community. In my opinion, a story about their needs and the ways others can help is an important message to get out there. I’m sorry it doesn’t contain a scandal or a violent crime, but I’m not willing to hand it off. Besides, without me there is no story. The Langtrys won’t want anyone else.”
    “They would take any reporter if it meant coverage for their cause,” Pete said drily, retreating behind his desk. “Your naïveté surprises me. If you want to run with it, you have my approval. I don’t doubt that you’ll do a good job. I just don’t know if it will be good enough to take you where you want to go.”
    Nola smoothed the front of her skirt and then clasped her hands in front of her. “If there’s nothing else, I’d like to get back to work.”
    “I need you to cover a press conference at ten. HC General has enacted a policy banning Christmas carols and holiday decorations at the hospital, and there’s quite an uproar brewing over there.”
    “A Christmas piece?” Nola bit back her sarcasm. “And Dirk would be where?”
    Pete slanted her a gaze. “He’s meeting with the prostitute Senator Waegle allegedly hired.”
    “And our rookie field reporters?” Tension crept up her spine, but Nola refused to allow Pete to see her annoyance at the assignment.
    “It’s a slow news day.” Pete replaced his glasses and sat in his chair without looking up at Nola, irritating her further. “I can’t justify calling one of them in when you’re available.”
    “Thank you for your time.” Nola squared her shoulders, turned toward the door and opened it.
    “Have a good day,” Pete said.
    Nola’s back stiffened for an instant.
This job is only one step to bigger and better things.
The mantra had served her well over the years, reminding her to remain calm and accept that every crap job brought her a little closer to the big time.
    “You, too.” Nola strode down the hallway to her closet-size office. She squeezed between her filing cabinet and desk and sank into her chair.
    She removed her phone from her bag. Seeing a missed call and voice mail notification from Chase created a slight flutter in her stomach. Ignoring them for a moment, Nola typed out a text message to George, asking him to come to her office.
    Inhaling slowly, she attempted to steel her nerves before listening to Chase’s message. Logic told her it was probably about the Mistletoe Rodeo story, but a part of Nola feared it might be one of those I-regret-our-kiss calls.
    Chastising herself for fretting like a lovesick teenager, Nola pressed Play on her phone. The nervousness in Chase’s voice immediately made her smile. She checked her watch. He’d called a little more than half an hour ago, and the realization that she didn’t have enough time to meet with him bummed her out a bit.
    She dialed his number, her pulse quickening when he answered with his Texas drawl. “Good mornin’. How are you?”
    “Good.” That wasn’t exactly true, but hearing the sound of his voice brightened her morning. “How are you?”
    “Better