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Ryder strolled through the barn one last time before the others arrived for rehearsal. He meticulously inspected the new windows, plumbing, and a few fresh electrical outlets. In the back corner, a brand-new room had been constructed to serve as a dressing room and bathroom. The floor gleamed with a fresh stain and polish, and every beam, rafter, and wall boasted a new finish.
Before he left, Ryder paused in the doorway to soak in the ambiance. Tables and chairs were neatly arranged, and paper lantern globes of various sizes dangled from the rafters. A grand chandelier illuminated the center of the dance floor, while strands of small globe lights outlined the walls. The tables were draped in white linens and adorned with a charming assortment of centerpieces: lanterns, pale pink and white roses, hydrangeas, wooden boxes, candles, and jars.
Stepping outside, Ryder turned back to admire the barn. Seeing it restored to its former glory—as it had been when his dad was alive—brought a warm smile to his face.
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After mending the hinge on the hefty door, Tyler swung it back and forth to test it.
"Is it working now, Dad?" Ryder inquired as he and Terry approached after tying up their horses.
"Yes, it is. The hinge was damaged. I replaced it and now it works perfectly," Tyler confirmed, placing the drill on the tailgate.
"Can we help you with anything else, Dad?" Fifteen-year-old Terry asked, picking up the drill and making it spin with a press of a button.
"Absolutely. Let's go see what else needs fixing." Tyler draped his left arm over Terry's shoulders and his right arm over Ryder's, guiding his sons into the barn.
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The evening following the rehearsal and dinner, Ryder retreated to his bedroom. The day had been lengthy and draining, leaving Ryder both fatigued and on edge. Settling into his bed, he retrieved his journal from the nightstand drawer, flipping through the pages. Observing his journey unfold in black and white—his entries evolving from regret and anger to reflections about Beverly and love—Ryder paused to offer a silent prayer of gratitude.
He lingered over a few of Isobel's entries, especially focusing on the well-worn page inscribed with "I will wait for you." Gently tracing the words with his fingers, he recalled the intense fear of losing her at that moment and marveled at how far they had come together. Finally, he turned to a blank page near the journal's end and made one last entry.
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Isobel awoke to a persistent tapping on her forehead. Groggily, she turned over to find Fancy’s face inches away from her own.
"Fancy... what are you doing in my bed?" Isobel asked with a huge yawn.
"Today's your wedding day!" Fancy’s grin stretched wide, and her blue eyes sparkled with excitement.
"You’re like a kid on Christmas morning," Isobel remarked.
Fancy sat up, bouncing energetically on the bed. "I know! Now, let's get up, grab some breakfast, and head to the salon."
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Ryder pressed the button, initiating the coffee brewing process. He retrieved a skillet from the cupboard, set it on the stove, and began crafting breakfast for Grace and Thomas, who were lodging in his spare bedroom.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Grace appeared and started arranging the place settings.
"Omelets good?" Ryder inquired as she poured herself a cup of coffee.
"Smells amazing, Ryder," she replied with a smile.
Thomas soon joined them, and together they sat around the island, getting to know their future son-in-law better while savoring their delicious omelets.
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Fancy and Isobel were lounging on the patio, sipping their coffee, when Skylar burst out the door.
"Mommy!" she shouted, leaping onto Fancy's lap and nearly toppling her coffee.
"Good morning, Baby."
"Morning, Bill," Isobel greeted as Bill stepped onto the patio.
"Good morning, Isobel." He pulled up a chair beside Fancy and lifted Skylar onto his lap.
"She's such a daddy's girl," Fancy remarked between sips.
"Daddy's girl!" Skylar echoed, patting his cheeks with her pudgy hands.
"Are you excited to be a flower girl?" Isobel asked her niece.
"What’s a flower girl?"
"Remember yesterday with Savannah? Practicing with the basket and flower petals?" Fancy reminded her daughter, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.
"Yes."
"That's what you'll do again today. You're the flower girl."
"Goodie!" she squealed, bouncing merrily on Bill's lap.
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Ryder strolled through his barn, tending to the horses with feed and water. He paused at Harley's stall, gently running his hand down the horse's forehead.
"Hey there, big guy." Ryder's hand glided down Harley's neck as the horse poked his head over the half door.
"He's the best horse you've ever had," Celeste said, approaching the stall and peeking inside.
"Hey, Ma. He really is."
"I remember when you almost didn't buy him."
Ryder laughed, "That's true, I nearly passed him up. Didn't want to shell out that much money."
"And now?"
"Now, I wouldn't trade him for a million dollars." Ryder grinned, patting Harley on the neck.
"Grace and Thomas up at the house?"
"Yeah. I think they're on the porch, finishing their coffee."
"I'm going to go visit with them for a bit."
"Alright, Ma. I'll join you soon. Just about done here."
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Isobel pulled into the bustling parking lot of the chic hair salon. She, along with Fancy and Skylar, gracefully exited the car just as Rose, Sam, and Savannah arrived and parked beside them. The air buzzed with excitement as the women eagerly made their way into the stylish building. Each of them enthusiastically shared photos of their desired hairstyles with the stylist before settling into their seats, chatting animatedly about the day's upcoming events.
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With Celeste, Terry, and Wren's assistance, Ryder served lunch to the Wrights and Bill on the back deck. The group soaked in the perfect weather, complemented by easy-going conversations.
"Ryder, you have such a beautiful place here. I can't get over these views," Thomas said, admiring the distant trees and valleys.
"Thank you, Thomas. It's one of the many reasons I love it here," Ryder replied with a smile, his eyes tracing the same breathtaking view before wandering to the yard. He was excited to show it to Isobel.
"When are the girls arriving?" Grace inquired.
Ryder glanced at his watch before responding. "They should be on their way soon. After their hair appointment, they planned to grab a bite and then come here to finish up getting ready. I should head to the barn before they arrive." He pushed his chair back, stood up, and walked into the house with his dishes.
Terry and Wren followed suit with their plates in hand.
"It's such a perfect day for this," Celeste remarked as she sipped her tea.
"Absolutely. The weather couldn't be better," Grace agreed.
Ryder popped his head out of the door. "Hey Ma, are you good here? Isobel just texted; they're almost here. We need to run to the barn."
"Yes, dear. Go ahead."
Thomas turned towards Celeste and set down his glass of tea. "To be honest, when Isobel first told us about Ryder and his profession, we were concerned. I couldn't grasp what she saw in a bull rider. But now, I feel embarrassed about my initial judgment. Ryder is an outstanding man, and I couldn't have chosen a better husband for our Isobel."
Celeste leaned forward and gently placed her hand over Thomas's. "And I couldn't have wished for a better wife for my Ryder."