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Their day unfolded amidst a flurry of ranch chores. Isobel and Ryder saddled up and ventured out to one of his mother's pastures to check on her livestock. Isobel stayed back on Annie, observing as Ryder and Harley guided a small herd through a gate into a lower field. While riding along the trails, they discussed their wedding plans; Ryder mentally listed all additional tasks needed for the barn.
Later, Ryder was in the round pen working with a new horse he’d bought with the intention of training and reselling. Isobel had run an errand in town, and on her return, saw Ryder perched on the picnic table, watching the gelding buck and kick around the pen. Nearby, Harley was tied to a tree.
She joined Ryder on the seat. "How's it going?" she asked.
"Not good at all," Ryder replied, frustration etched on his face.
Isobel looked at the horse nervously pawing at the ground. "What's wrong?"
"I can't get this guy to join up with me. I can’t even get close. This is the third session with no progress. I have to lasso him and use Harley to drag him from the barn out here."
Ryder hopped off the table and stepped into the pen again; the gelding pinned his ears back, watching Ryder warily as he approached the center. Isobel moved to the fence, resting her arms on its top rail.
The gelding's attention shifted to her; he pricked one ear forward and took hesitant steps toward her. Ryder watched, wide-eyed with surprise.
Isobel glanced between Ryder and the horse, unsure. Ryder signaled her to extend her hand.
She slowly reached out, palm up. The horse took a few more steps before pausing and stretching his neck out. He tossed his head, snorting loudly, then reared up, landing heavily in the sand.
Isobel jerked back but Ryder silently motioned her to stay put. She steadied herself and extended her hand once more over the fence.
The gelding calmed down, took two more steps forward, then gently bumped her hand with his nose. Isobel held her breath, trying to keep her hand steady as he sniffed it, cautiously monitoring his mouth to avoid any potential bites.
Ryder stood in the center of the pen, eyes wide with amazement at the interaction between Isobel and the horse. In all his years of horse training, he had never witnessed anything so extraordinary. Isobel kept glancing at Ryder for cues, and he would signal her with different instructions.
With a trembling hand, Isobel turned her palm toward the horse and cautiously moved it towards its forehead. At first, the horse recoiled, but then it pressed against her hand. Isobel scratched between its eyes, causing the horse to jump back and then dash around the pen, bucking wildly. After completing a full circle, it paused near Isobel again.
The horse bobbed its head before approaching her once more. She extended her hand, and as he stretched out to meet it, he snorted softly. Ryder could hardly believe his eyes as he watched this miraculous scene unfold from his vantage point in the center of the pen.
Isobel gently placed her hand back on the horse's forehead without scratching, moving it slowly back and forth. She noticed a transformation in his eyes; they softened from their previously wide-eyed, fearful state.
Ryder placed his hands on top of his cowboy hat and shook his head in disbelief. "Unbelievable," he whispered.
Isobel looked back at Ryder for guidance, shrugging and mouthing, "now what?"
Ryder signaled for her to move her hand down to the horse's neck. She obeyed, sliding her hand along its jaw and onto its neck. After a few seconds of gentle petting, she glanced over at Ryder who was still standing there wide-eyed and agape. She smiled; Ryder grinned back before motioning for her to slowly back away along the fence. As she did so, the horse followed closely behind.
Cautiously making his way to the gate, Ryder waited until the gelding was past it before stepping through and closing it behind him. Isobel turned and walked toward Ryder with the gelding still trailing along on the other side of the fence.
"Isobel, that was amazing."
Isobel grinned and shrugged. "What just happened?"
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"You just got a horse to join up with you. I've been trying to do that for three days."
"But how?" she asked.
"He must be scared of men; that's my best guess," Ryder replied as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Maybe you need to be his trainer."
"What? No way! I'm not getting back in there with him," Isobel protested with a laugh.
"We can find different ways for you to work with him without needing to be in the pen. I would never put you in danger."
Isobel looked at the horse standing nearby. "I don't know. Maybe."
Ryder approached the gate, retrieving a halter from a post. "Want to try putting this on him?"
Isobel took the halter from Ryder.
"First, see if he'll let you pet him some more. Then we can try to put it on him."
Isobel returned to the fence and extended her hand. Without hesitation, the gelding nuzzled her palm. Isobel gently stroked his face and neck once more. She used both hands, gliding them along his neck and shoulders before returning to his face, mimicking Ryder's movements by softly brushing her hand across the horse’s eye.
She then pulled the halter from her shoulder and held it out for the horse to sniff. He snorted softly but remained still. Stepping onto the bottom rail, she positioned herself to slip the halter over his nose and secured it behind his ears with a practiced motion. After buckling it, she stepped back down.
"Wow, Isobel. That's incredible," Ryder exclaimed.
He slowly approached to stand beside Isobel. The moment the horse noticed Ryder, he bolted across the pen, stopping on the opposite side.
"Looks like he's only comfortable with you," Ryder said.
"So, what's next?" Isobel asked.
"I'll think it over and come up with a plan for you to work with him," Ryder replied.
"I'm not sure about this, Ryder."
"I promise I won't put you in danger. I'll figure something out."
September 2nd, 2009 – Willow Haven Ranch
Later that evening, as bedtime approached, Ryder waited for Isobel to close her door before opening his slightly, ensuring he could hear if she had another nightmare.
Throughout the night, Ryder woke several times to check on her, each time finding her sound asleep. He would return to bed and drift off easily again. In the morning, he got up and found her room empty.
The inviting smell of cinnamon and vanilla led him downstairs. He descended the long wooden staircase into the kitchen where Isobel was making French toast.
"Good morning, Babe," Isobel greeted as she flipped the thick slice of bread. Ryder approached her from behind, encircling her waist with his arms and pressing a kiss to her neck. "Good morning, beautiful," he murmured, inhaling the sweet scent of cinnamon toast. "That smells amazing."
"It will be ready soon. Then I need to eat quickly and get ready for school. I can't miss today."
Ryder observed the fading bruise on her face. "It's hardly noticeable now." He brushed his knuckles over her cheek before kissing her. "I'll finish this up; you go get ready."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," he assured, kissing her again. "Now go on." He playfully swatted her butt.
Isobel squealed and rushed upstairs to the bedroom. Fifteen minutes later, she returned, dressed with freshly wet hair.
Ryder had already plated the French toast and set it at the island's stools, handing Isobel a steaming cup of coffee.
"Thank you, Ryder," she said, savoring the coffee's aroma.
After finishing breakfast, Isobel completed her preparations for work, packed up her belongings, and left.
Ryder stood in the now silent house, wishing she was still there. He went to his bedroom; all traces of Isobel were gone: the bed neatly made and her clothes removed. In the bathroom, he breathed deeply, trying to capture the lingering scent of her perfume.
That evening, Isobel decided to stay at her own place. She had a lot of schoolwork to catch up on after missing two days and wanted to dive in post-work. She promised Ryder if sleep eluded her, she’d confide in him and stay with Rose. Ryder had also given her Dr. Brown's contact information and suggested she seek a consultation.
Ryder headed out to the barn to feed the horses, pausing at the gelding’s stall. Resting his arms on top of the door, he watched as the horse ate while keeping an eye on Ryder.
"What am I going to do with you, boy?" Ryder said softly. "You like Isobel too?" He chuckled. "Can’t blame you; she's wonderful." He waited until the horse finished eating and cautiously reached his hand into the stall. The horse snorted loudly and pawed at the dirt before settling against the opposite wall once Ryder withdrew his hand.
With a sigh of resignation, Ryder conceded softly, "Okay, you win. Isobel it is."
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The subsequent weeks flew by with wedding preparations in full swing and restoration of the barn. Wren had bounced back swiftly from the kick, leaving just a faint yellow bruise as a reminder. Isobel, seeking Dr. Brown's expertise, started attending weekly sessions; her nightmares had nearly vanished.
Ryder had employed a construction crew to revamp the barn, ensuring it met Isobel's vision. A new floor was laid, electrical systems updated, plumbing fixed, roof repaired, and additional windows installed. In parallel, Ryder advanced with a secret project behind the house that Isobel was unaware of.
Busy with school and wedding plans, Isobel scarcely found time to be with Ryder. He too was engrossed in his own endeavors, including building a wedding arbor and maintaining his routine of training horses and assisting his mother.
Fancy visited for a weekend dedicated to dress shopping with Isobel, Rose, Sam, Beverly, and Abby. Their day began with brunch and concluded with Isobel discovering her dream dress at the bridal store, needing just minor alterations. The bridesmaid dresses were also chosen and suited everyone perfectly. The checklist for the cake, men's attire, flowers, and more was steadily getting shorter.
The month was rounded off by a few Hayes family dinners and two rodeos. Ryder clinched two more victories and secured his place at the World Finals in Vegas. Meanwhile, Wren secured second and fourth place finishes, and Bella Rose earned first and third places.