----------------------------------------
Isobel stored her final belongings in the classroom, marking the conclusion of the school year. With summer commencing, she eagerly anticipated her visits to Bella Rose's, vowing to ride at least weekly. After securing the art room with a turn of the key, she strolled to her car, a sense of finality in her steps.
Nestled in the driver's seat, images of Ryder unfurled in her mind like a persistent film. There he was—collaborating with Delilah, aiding Isobel as she dismounted, gallantly swinging open the truck door for her. She shook off the persistent reveries, ignited the engine, and set course for home.
----------------------------------------
Ryder was in the midst of training a spirited young horse in the circular enclosure when he paused, made his way through the gate, and settled himself upon the bench. He observed the colt cavorting with unrestrained joy around the pen, clearly relishing its freedom from the confinement of a stall.
His thoughts inevitably drifted back to Isobel. Since their encounter at the rodeo, she relentlessly occupied his mind. The morning following his visit to Becky had greeted him with an immediate sense of remorse. He made a quiet exit from the trailer, leaving without uttering a single word to her.
Isobel stood out from any other woman Ryder had come across, deviating markedly from his usual preferences. Remarkably, she had been drawn to him for who he truly was—an absolute novelty for Ryder. She had been oblivious to his father's legacy and unaware of Ryder's own accolades; she had only known him as 'Rancher Ryder', and he yearned for that simpler time before she discovered more.
Her absence gnawed at him, disrupting his focus to the point where work became a challenge, and night after night, visions of Isobel haunted his slumber.
That particular morning saw Ryder stir from sleep with a potent longing for Isobel's presence in his life more intense than ever before. He had dreamt of them intertwined, her arms enfolded around him while they reveled in each other's affection—a sense of belonging so profound he had never experienced anything like it before. The emotion clung to him all through the day.
Overwhelmed by a wave of sorrow as he contemplated the possibility that he might have sabotaged any chance at true happiness with Isobel, Ryder bowed his head into his hands and wept.
----------------------------------------
Isobel arrived home and immediately noticed an oddity dangling from her front door. After parking in the garage, she exited her vehicle and ambled over to investigate.
Adhered with scotch tape to the door was a crisply folded, white note, bearing her name hastily scrawled across it. Isobel plucked it from its perch and unfolded it to reveal the words within.
"Isobel,
It wouldn't surprise me if you've resolved never to speak to me again. My actions towards you were inexcusable. Yet, I'm reaching out for the very thing I am least entitled to ask for: your forgiveness. My remorse is genuine—I deeply regret everything. Is there room in your heart to grant me a second chance? My recognition of needing help is real, and I’m actively seeking it.
You've infiltrated my dreams, and every morning I awake with a yearning to hold you close once more. The intensity of my feelings for you is unprecedented, leaving me at a loss for how to manage them. Now, I fervently hope—no, plead—that you’ll consider offering me the opportunity to right my wrongs. Losing myself was easy; however, knowing you compelled me to reevaluate my path. Raised with better morals by my parents, I aspire now to become a man worthy of you—one who you rightly deserve.
With sincerity,
Ryder Hayes"
Compelled by a mix of emotions, Isobel crammed the note into her purse, dashed back to her car, and reemerged onto the street.
----------------------------------------
Isobel eased her car down the lane, shadowed by rows of trees, and pulled up to a halt outside the barn. Finding no trace of him inside, she proceeded to meander towards the round pen. As it came into sight, Isobel halted in her tracks.
A young girl stood on the outskirts of the pen, her gaze fixed on Ryder. Time and again, he would pivot gently towards her to exchange signs with his hands, to which she would earnestly respond with her own gestures. Isobel observed their silent conversation with a deep curiosity that lasted minutes, before Ryder’s gaze found hers.
The urge to flee surged within her, a thought of retreating to the sanctuary of her vehicle. But she stood firm and instead paced closer to Ryder. He signed off his dialogue with the girl and she cast an inquisitive glance at Isobel.
Exiting the pen swiftly, Ryder closed in on Isobel until merely a few feet lay between them.
“You received my letter?” His voice wavered with anticipation.
“I did.”
“Great. Every word in it was true. I deeply regret my actions, Isobel. I’ve made foolish mistakes and keep finding myself apologizing to you, but believe me when I say I’m dedicated to change.”
Gazing into his eyes brimming with sincerity, Isobel’s doubts began melting away. “Alright,” she conceded after a silent moment. “However, I need you to share your plan with me first.”
“I’ve started consulting a therapist to sort through various issues—it’s mainly about my dad's passing and a few other things.”
“Ryder, there's something genuine in you that I once saw. I’m willing to trust you again and perhaps even give us a second shot but understand – it's going to take time.”
Just then, Savannah brushed up next to Ryder, pulled at his shirt for attention, and gestured at Isobel.
“I want you to meet someone special — This is Savannah, my niece,” he said, translating for both as he introduced them. “And Savannah is meeting my friend Isobel today.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Isobel greeted her warmly while Ryder mirrored the words in sign language.
“Savannah enjoys spending her time here—assisting me with the horses; she has quite a knack for it.” Ryder beamed at Savannah proudly and added playfully, “Isn’t that right?”
Savannah affirmed energetically using sign language.
“She’s my younger brother’s child; he's currently visiting mom and so Savannah pays me a visit,” explained Ryder as his face lit up with joy while he tickled her lightly — eliciting peals of laughter from the tickled young girl.
"Savannah, could you dash inside and fetch us three glasses of that refreshing lemonade? We'll join you shortly."
With a quick nod, Savannah hurried off towards the house.
"She truly is remarkable, Ryder," Isobel remarked, turning her attention back to him. "I had no idea you were fluent in sign language."
"You'd be surprised by the things you don't know about me," he said with a smile. "My love for my niece knows no bounds. When we learned she was deaf, I wasted no time in enrolling in sign language classes to ensure we could communicate."
"That's incredibly selfless of you, Ryder." Isobel found her admiration for Ryder deepening.
"I appreciate that. It's actually been rather useful. A few guys on the rodeo circuit are deaf; knowing that I can sign, they often seek me out for conversation. It's allowed me to forge some strong friendships."
"That's wonderful, Ryder." Isobel's smile was genuine yet cautious.
"Shall we go see how Savannah is doing?"
"Sure." Her smile softened further.
Ryder extended his hand, hopeful she would accept it. Isobel gently placed her hand in his, and together they made their way to the house.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
Inside, Savannah had already poured the lemonade and was engrossed in a cartoon on television, the closed captioning running along the bottom. Ryder gestured for Isobel to take a seat at the kitchen island where she obliged, and he sat on the stool across from her.
"So, Isobel, how have things been going?"
"Really well. Today marked the last day of school for me so now it's summer vacation."
"Fantastic. Maybe this means we can plan for some rides together if you're up for it."
"I'd like that. Plus, I'm planning to ride with Rose a bit more too."
"Excellent! I'm thrilled you're pursuing your riding. There's something truly incomparable about being on horseback."
A lull fell over their conversation as Ryder idly rotated his glass and Isobel played with the hem of her shirt.
"I'm sorry," they blurted simultaneously.
"After you," invited Isobel.
"No, please go ahead," insisted Ryder.
"I apologize for what I said during the rodeo night. It was out of line to bring up your father and pass judgment based on your past actions."
"It's alright, Isobel – what you said was based on reality." Ryder's gaze dropped to his glass. "It pains me that my past is indeed a part of my reality."
"Ryder, the past is behind us. What's crucial is your effort in the present."
He gazed deeply into her eyes, "I am exerting myself to the fullest. For both of us. I refuse to be that man again."
Ryder's eyes brimmed with tears - a sight of vulnerability Isobel had never witnessed. It reached deep into her heart. Rising, she circled to where Ryder was seated and enfolded him in an embrace, drawing his head to her chest. While seated, Ryder clasped his arms around her middle, holding on with intensity. Through his shudders, Isobel sensed his silent sobs.
Into the room stepped Savannah, lightly tapping Ryder's arm. He looked up and she gestured with her hands, "What's troubling you?"
Keeping silent for Isobel’s benefit, Ryder replied through sign language to his niece, who simply nodded in understanding before returning her attention to the television.
"What did you tell her?" inquired Isobel.
"Just that I'm having a tough day and you're here helping me feel better. She knows my bad days often involve thoughts about my dad - she'll think that's the issue."
"You two are close, aren't you?"
He nodded affirmatively, "Next to Wren, she's my confidant."
Isobel took a step back, grasped Ryder’s hands and gently coaxed him to stand. Suddenly, Ryder grimaced - alerting Isobel to pause.
"What’s wrong?" she questioned with concern.
Ryder shared about his accident last November and how his recent outing had exacerbated the injury.
"And what did the doctor say?"
"I haven't revisited."
"But shouldn't you have it examined?"
"He'll only repeat what I already anticipate - cease riding or risk permanent shoulder damage."
"Why continue then?"
"It's a challenge to articulate for those who don't understand the passion behind it. Walking away isn't as simple as it seems; it’s everything I am." His eyes dropped.
Lifting his chin tenderly so he’d meet her gaze, Isobel gently prodded, "There’s more to it than just habit."
Confronting her gaze in silence, Ryder seemed lost for words.
"Why do you ask?"
Ryder resumed his seat, yet his eyes intently sought hers. "It's about my dad."
"What's the issue?"
"He was obsessed with victory. Unmatched, really. But the day he chose that bull, my gut screamed danger and I pleaded with him to reconsider. He never witnessed my triumphs on the professional scene."
"You think he doesn't watch over you?"
"I wish I could believe that, but no. He's gone, and he'll miss out on all my future rides."
"Ryder, I'm certain he's looking down on you. There's no need to keep striving to impress someone who's not here."
"My struggle isn't with his memory; it's with myself." Ryder rose, placing his empty glass in the sink then spun around to lean against the counter, hands spread before him.
"Do you feel inadequate, Ryder?"
His gaze met Isobel's. "On good days I don't, but then there are times when I wonder if I'll ever measure up. Despite everything, I'm always compared to him—my father, a legend both as a person and a competitor. Being as good as he was seems out of reach."
Isobel closed the distance between them, her hands gently gripping his arms. "You're a decent man, Ryder; it's evident to anyone who looks."
In response, Ryder enveloped her in an embrace as she nestled against him. They stood entwined in silence until Ryder lifted his head and peered down at Isobel. "I should take Savannah back to my brother now."
Isobel stepped away with understanding in her eyes.
Ryder caressed her cheek and traced her jawline tenderly. "Will you join me on the ride over?"
A smile graced Isobel’s lips as she nodded. Hand in hand, they entered the living room where Ryder gestured to Savannah who was enthralled by the television before her. He signed for her attention and she promptly turned off the TV, stood up taking his hand with hers fitting into Isobel’s eagerly.
Parking in front of his mother's residence, Ryder hopped out and assisted Savannah from her perch.
Terry alongside Sierra rushed to welcome them with young Celeste trailing behind. An eager Savannah bolted towards Terry for an affectionate embrace.
"Celeste exclaimed joyously upon noticing Isobel."
"Isobel! You've returned," Celeste beamed approaching Isobel with open arms.
"Hi Celeste. How have you been?"
"Wonderful! And seeing you again is just fantastic!" Celeste's hands warmly framed Isobel’s face as she beamed from ear to ear.
"I'm delighted to see you as well," came the warm reply.
"Alright, mom. I think it's time to let her breathe," Terry cut in, with a note of humor.
Stepping forward, Ryder took his place by Isobel's side and made the introductions with pride in his voice, "Terry, Sierra, meet Isobel. She's the one I've been telling you about—my girlfriend."
Isobel turned to Ryder, eyes locking onto his grin. "Is this alright?" he murmured just for her.
Her smile was her answer as she conveyed silent assent.
The look of surprise that crossed Terry's face soon gave way to a friendly welcome as he extended his hand towards Isobel. "A pleasure to meet you."
The sentiment was warmly reciprocated, "And you."
Sierra followed suit in kind.
After a short while of pleasant exchange, Ryder and Isobel took their leave.
As they drove away, Isobel observed, "Your family's quite wonderful, you know."
With a side glance and a nod, Ryder responded, "Yeah, they really are something." Then turning slightly towards her he posed the question that had been on his mind. "What about your family? You seldom speak of them."
"My roots are on the east coast; that's where my story begins. My father's the head of a robust law practice and my mother dedicates herself to our home. And then there are Priscilla and Fansy—my sisters both bound in matrimony. Priscilla embracing life in London while Fansy found her perch in Vermont," Isobel recounted.
"Do you often make the journey back?"
"Annually is what I aim for," she answered.
With the truck halting before his house and the engine silenced, Ryder pivoted to face her fully. "So what prompted your move to Georgia?"
Reflecting on her past she confessed, "I yearned for something different from the grandeur of elaborate houses and lavish parties; where private school peers epitomized privilege and entitlement—it just didn't resonate with me. My childhood friend migrated to the Midwest and we stayed connected throughout years; her letters and pictures painted a world I knew I had to become part of. When opportunity knocked, I seized it without hesitation."
"That leap must have been immense—a daunting journey into the unknown."
"A tinge of fear laced with a thrill of adventure," she admitted. "My parents were staunch opponents for an entire year but my resolve stood firm. Now they've come around somewhat reluctantly yet it has strained our relationship," Isobel shared solemnly.
"That's tough," he sympathized.
But with resilience tinged with hope she said, "It's alright—I've no regrets about my choice here; time will heal our bond."
"You possess remarkable courage," admired Ryder as he gazed at her affectionately. "May I share something with you?"
"Of course," invited Isobel with open curiosity.
"Did you catch the look Terry shot our way when I introduced you as my girlfriend?" Ryder extended his arm across the seat, entwining his fingers with Isobel's.
"Yes, I caught it."
"You know, I've never brought a girl home before. Not once." A nervous smile flickered on Ryder's face.
"Have you been keeping your girlfriends a secret or something?"
"The thing is, I've never really had a girlfriend."
Isobel struggled to process his confession. "But..."
"It's true, I've seen many women, and it shames me to admit it. Back in high school, I dated casually but never stayed with anyone long enough to use the term 'girlfriend.' And then, after my dad passed away... everything changed. To escape the pain, I lost myself in fleeting encounters because no one needed to know about my dad... or those girls. It meant no thinking, no pain. More risks followed, spiraling out of control. Trying to change on my own was tough but necessary. After my injury and during the recovery, it hit me—I couldn't be that guy any longer." Ryder's grip on her hand tightened gently. "Then you came along—you're not like anyone else, Isobel. For the first time, I find myself wanting to call someone my girlfriend."
She glanced at their interlocked hands and caressed his with her thumb, feeling an unfamiliar sensation surge within her. Here was a man who'd unexpectedly carved a niche in her heart—Ryder: a bull rider with a history of casual encounters and indulgences she'd typically avoid.
"What’s on your mind? Can you share it with me?" Ryder's voice pulled her from her thoughts.
Looking into his eyes, Isobel searched for the right words. "Ryder, honesty is all we have right now."
"That's exactly what I need," he agreed.
"I must confess—never did I envision myself with someone like you," Isobel began cautiously.
"Isobel, be open with me—anything you're feeling," he urged gently.
"For someone who's lived your life—a bull rider known for his past—I'd not have imagined a future. And yet with you now... there’s a transformation I can't ignore—a genuine effort to better yourself that's clear for all to see. Let’s explore 'us,' Ryder; let's give it a chance."
"That’s all I'm asking for," Ryder assured her softly. "I'm committed to making this work like I've never done before because you... you’re unlike any woman I've met—in the best possible way. You are like a breath of fresh air and I intend to become someone worthy of you."
In a fluid motion, Ryder flipped up the center console between them and shifted closer. His hand cradled her neck as he drew her into a kiss—a tender yet fervent expression of his feelings.
As they parted slightly, he locked eyes with hers and admitted quietly but intensely, "Isobel, trust me when I say I’m falling hard for you."
Acknowledging his words with a nod and an irresistible draw towards him again,
Isobel responded not just with words but by leaning in for another kiss—one that sealed their shared intent and underscored this moment of vulnerability transformed into connection.