Mistletoe Rodeo (Welcome to Ramblewood)
presence, but he could always dream. He noticed that Nola had heeded his advice and dressed down this afternoon. As distracting as he may have found her short skirt earlier, the way her jeans fit her backside was even more unsettling. She appeared slightly curvier and he liked it.
    Chase made a mental note not to walk behind Nola for the remainder of her visit. He led his guests into the house by way of the great room, not realizing that neither one of them had ever been inside before until their gaped-mouth expressions told him otherwise.
    Following their eyes three stories up toward a bevy of skylights, Chase gave them a brief history of the rustic home, hoping he didn’t sound ostentatious.
    “My father personally chose each log in this house, and every one came from the ranch’s Western red cedar trees.”
    “It’s beautiful craftsmanship.” George admired the monumental floor-to-ceiling river-rock fireplace. “It’s a rarity to see this type of construction anymore.”
    “It was my father’s vision. He had every log hand-hewn and notched on-site and wanted the house not only to be a one-of-a-kind structure, but also to be a home he could hand down through the ages to his children and eventually their children.”
    “How many of you live here?” George asked.
    “Just my mother and myself nowadays.” Chase looked around at the house that was once so filled with warmth. As much as he wanted to get married and start a family of his own, he couldn’t help but wonder how his mother would feel staying in the massive home by herself with only Barney for company.
    Langtry tradition had long dictated that when a child got married they moved into or built a house of their own on the property. With all of their land, they could live on the same ranch and literally be in the next county, but the idea had never appealed much to Chase. He wanted his children to grow up in the same house he had. He hadn’t discussed it with any of his brothers, though, fearing it might set off an argument among them.
    Jesse wouldn’t care—he had his own ranch. But Cole and Shane might have a thing or two to say about him living in the main house when they had both chosen to refurbish midcentury cottages. Their father’s estate had divided the ranch equally among the four of them, but the house remained solely his mother’s. It was a moot point anyway—Chase didn’t even have a girlfriend—but any decision about the house would ultimately be Kay’s.
    He turned to Nola and found her studying him as if she were trying to read his mind. It was unnerving, especially because she was the one who had triggered these it’s-time-to-settle-down musings.
    She quickly turned away and surveyed the room, her eyes landing on a large piece of artwork on the far wall leading to the kitchen. Chase moved to stand next to her but instantly regretted his decision when the enticing aroma of vanilla mixed with brown sugar greeted him. Chase had been around his sisters-in-law enough to be fairly sure that Nola shopped at Bath & Body Works.
    “That was a gift from the local Native American Kickapoo tribe. It’s my mother’s favorite piece.”
    “I can understand why. It’s breathtaking, but then again so is the rest of your house. Not quite what I imagined, though.”
    “What do you mean?” Chase asked.
    “Log homes tend to be dark. This is amazingly light filled and warm at the same time. And I suppose I expected it to be as festive inside as it is outside.”
    “Trust me, it will be. Mom’s planning a decorating party this weekend.” For a split second, Chase envisioned Nola there beside him, hanging stockings on the mantel.
    Nola lightly touched Chase’s arm. “Your father created a lasting legacy. I wish I’d had the opportunity to know him.”
    “Thank you.” That was all Chase could muster.
    He liked the way she truly seemed to appreciate what his father had created, instead of carrying on over the grandness of the house, as many of

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