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After tending to the horses, including his progress with Delilah, Ryder reentered his home. Casually, he kicked off the muddied boots using the boot puller and then purified his hands in the tiny restroom by the entry. He then fetched a chilled water bottle from the refrigerator before sinking into the soft embrace of his sofa, feet casually resting atop the coffee table. As he placed the water down, his gaze fell upon the gift from Isobel – a journal sitting within its box.
Gently lifting the journal from its container, a lone pencil rolled out – an unnoticed detail from his birthday. Nonchalantly, he tossed the box aside and cracked open the journal to its first pristine page. The blankness seemed to taunt him as he inscribed, “I’m sorry, dad.” These words hung heavy, more so than when he had verbalized his apologies.
Ryder's eyes narrowed as he contemplated the scrawled admission, exhaling deeply before flipping to a new page and continuing with a new declaration, “I want to be me again.” The rawness of these words brought a sharp sting to his eyes as disbelief shook him once more.
But as Ryder prepared to continue his writing journey, he halted in astonishment. There before him was a pre-written message by Isobel:
“It's hard to turn the page when you know someone won't be in the next chapter, but the story must go on.” ~Tyler Wilder
These profound words resonated deeply with Ryder as he battled back tears. Eagerly flipping through more pages, Isobel’s script reappeared time and again each inscription carrying its unique weight on Ryder’s soul.
He discovered pearls of wisdom scattered amidst the pages like hidden treasures:
"Silence the scars' lies; hear instead Jesus’ scars' story," penned Tessa Afshar subtly reminding him.
On one page stood an encouragement brewing between planned lives and lived realities; another bore scripture from I Corinthians, promising escape and endurance in temptation's face. This particular passage ensnared Ryder’s focus as he mulled over it repeatedly.
A different encounter came in form of art – an expertly shaded drawing depicting himself and Harley in a moment of tender connection; it captured them in detailed grace.
Turning more pages led to fewer writings until another stopped him—Isobel's promise: “I will wait for you.” It was then that emotion surged once more as Ryder's finger traced over her indelible vow.
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On her last day at home, Isobel was tucking items into her carry-on when Fancy entered the room.
"Hey, sis. You're going to be missed a whole lot." Fancy dropped herself onto the bed's edge.
"The feeling's mutual." As Isobel neatly packed a shirt, she added, "Don't forget, you, Bill, and Skylar always have an open invitation to visit."
"We'll take you up on that. After Bill's hectic vacation season at work, we'll make plans to come out."
"That'd be perfect, Fancy. The Ozarks have so much charm to share. By the way, how's Bill finding his role as Executive Chef? Which hotel is it again?"
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"He's at The Woodstock Inn and Resort – he adores it but it's all go during tourist season. Time together is scarce, but we manage."
"I admire how you both handle it. And you’re doing an incredible job as a mom – Skylar's a testament to that."
"Thank you, Isobel. And who knows? Maybe someday you'll be in the same shoes." A grin spread over Fancy’s face as she probed gently. "Can you picture a future with Ryder? Maybe starting a family?"
Pausing her packing, Isobel settled beside her sister. "There are moments I really can. He has such genuine warmth in his heart – just watch him with his deaf niece; he even learnt sign language for her. Their connection is simply special."
"I'm rooting for everything to turn out perfect for you two – happiness suits you," Fancy encouraged warmly.
Isobel reached over for an embrace. "I cherish that thought; thanks Jules. When do you head back?"
"We're actually leaving today after your departure. Tomorrow’s open for Bill so we're off to dazzle Skylar with a trip to the zoo."
"She'll be thrilled, I bet."
Later on, as Thomas eased the car in front of the terminal entrance, Isobel touched their father’s shoulder tenderly, "Dad, I hope today made your Father’s Day extra special."
"It was pure joy spending it with two of my girls," he replied heartily.
Isobel shared an affectionate kiss on his cheek and embraced him. "Love you heaps, dad." Twisting towards her mom she enveloped her in a hug too, "And love you tons, mom."
"Farewell Isobel. Fly safely and ring us once you've landed."
"Will do, mom—see you all soon."
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Isobel navigated the bustling airport concourse, dragging her carry-on and clutching her purse, until she reached the gate. She retrieved her phone and rang Ryder.
"Isobel, hey. How's everything?"
"I'm actually at the airport now, about to catch my flight back."
Hearing that, Ryder's pulse quickened. "Oh? Need a lift when you land? I can swing by."
"I was considering asking Rose, but it'd be great if you could."
"Consider it done," Ryder said, unable to mask his enthusiasm. "When do you get in? Which airline?"
"It's American Airlines. Landing at 5:10 pm."
"Count on me to be there, Isobel."
"Thanks, Ryder. See you then."
After ending the call, Isobel messaged Rose to inform her of the change in plans and got a swift response. She stashed her phone away and took out her Bible—a constant travel companion.
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Time flew by; six hours later, Isobel was striding through the terminal towards the exit. There stood Ryder, decked out in his finest denim and a shiny Cinch shirt—a recent gift from his mother—clutching a bouquet of red roses and his cowboy hat.
Ryder greeted her with a tender cheek kiss. "Welcome home, Isobel."
She beamed at the flowers' fragrance. "They're stunning. Thank you!"
With a gallant gesture, he relieved her of her suitcase.
In route in the truck, Ryder glanced at Isobel. "How was the family visit?"
"Incredible! Fancy's little girl is growing up fast! And yourself? Any news on your end?"
As they drove on, Ryder confided about writing to his father and visiting the cemetery.
Isobel's eyes sparkled with pride. "You're really transforming before my eyes."
Ryder nodded in gratitude. "Started journaling too."
"That's wonderful," she encouraged him.
"Yeah... I even read your note in it," he admitted.
A warm blush spread across Isobel's cheeks.
Ryder added with a sense of awe, "That artwork blew me away, Isobel. Your talent took me by surprise."
"Thanks, Ryder. It means a lot that you appreciate it."
"And...I need to thank you...for those words you shared. They struck a chord with me. Deeply."
"Every word was true, Ryder."
Slowly, Ryder reached out, their hands meeting and resting together on the seat. A comfortable stillness enveloped them for the next few moments until Isobel's curiosity piqued about Ryder's therapy journey. They exchanged stories—about her recent travels, about his experiences with horse training—until he guided his car smoothly into her driveway. Ever the gentleman, he escorted her to her doorstep, suitcase in hand, left a tender kiss on her cheek, and departed for his own abode.