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"What will you be doing today?" she inquired, taking a step back to lean against the counter facing him.
"I'm not entirely certain. Perhaps tend to some horses, drive you home whenever you wish. Would you like to go back now?"
"No, I'm fine for now."
Isobel's rational mind urged her to leave; this man wasn't the right sort to get involved with. His drinking habits were heavy, his approach too direct, and his romantic history too scattered – all traits that directly contradicted her ideal partner. Yet, her heart sang a different tune. When sober, Ryder was kind, considerate, a real gentleman. Much like he believed Delilah held potential, Isobel saw something in Ryder.
He filled two mugs with coffee and offered one to Isobel. "Would you like cream or sugar with this?"
"Just sugar, thank you," Isobel responded.
While they sipped on the warm beverage, Ryder regaled her with tales of the horses under his care. Occasionally during the conversation, Isobel's thoughts would drift to that morning's awkward encounter with a nude Ryder; She'd give her leg a discreet pinch to snap back into the moment and refocus on his words.
Ryder was detailing his experiences, "Harley has been my stalwart companion for the past six years, an invaluable asset on this ranch."
Realizing she missed part of the context, Isobel chimed in apologetically, "I'm sorry – Harley?"
"Harley?" he echoed with an amused grin featuring his dimples. "The horse Rose adored during our first meeting."
"Oh! Right. Harley is absolutely stunning."
He proposed an idea with a spark in his eye. "How about I take you on a tour of the ranch on horseback?"
"I'd love that, though I don't have suitable attire for riding."
"There are some clothes my mother left behind; they'll be slightly oversized but functional."
Curious, Isobel asked, "And your mother? Where does she reside?"
"Her place is on the opposite end of the ranch; we'll pass by during our ride."
They exchanged pleasantries as they finished their coffees. Ryder located his mother’s clothes for Isobel and laid them out in the ground-floor washroom. After dressing in jeans rolled at the cuffs and a 'Yellowstone' t-shirt from her selection, she emerged from the bathroom to find Ryder ready and lounging on the sofa.
He stood up and offered her an additional layer. "I brought this down for you – it’s quite brisk out this morning." In his hands was one of his plaid flannel shirts. Slipping into it, she tied the bottom into a knot at her waist for a snugger fit.
Clad in a crisp navy blue button-up with 'Wrangler' finely embroidered on the sleeve, Ryder adjusted his white straw cowboy hat before offering his hand. "Ready?" he inquired, anticipating her grasp.
Isobel moved closer, her hand seamlessly joining his. Side by side, they meandered towards the barn.
Ryder prepared Annie, his trusty ten-year-old mare and longtime companion, for Isobel's ride. He saddled up Harley for himself and provided Isobel with a concise riding tutorial for Annie. Soon after, they set out into the vast expanse of an open pasture and journeyed into the forest that bridged Ryder's land to his mother's.
"This place is breathtaking," Isobel exclaimed.
"I've seen many places in my rodeo travels, yet this is the one place I yearn to return to," Ryder confessed.
"Do bulls ever frighten you during a ride?" she queried.
An earnest look crossed Ryder's face. "Fear strikes every time. If you mount a raging two-thousand-pound animal without fear, that's your cue to retire," he admitted candidly.
"And yet you continue—why?"
He reflected briefly before responding. "It’s in my blood. My father—a rodeo legend revered by many—held three world championships under his belt. My awe for him was boundless. He rode bulls deemed unruly by others with finesse." Steering Harley along a field-edge path, he continued, "I've been on this path since calfhood and even clinched the youth finals rodeo as a teenager. The pride in my father's eyes mirrored the admiration I always felt for him."
"Your father must hold immense pride for you," noted Isobel as Ryder's story waned.
His gaze softened; emotion welled up in his eyes. "He did," he managed to say before directing his attention forward to the trail ahead.
As Ryder indicated a diverging path within the trees, Isobel complied without pressing further; it was clear that Ryder had drawn a veil over memories of his father for now.
They emerged onto a verdant lawn revealing a picturesque log cabin crowned with a green metal roof. Its front porch stretched welcomingly beneath fern-laden eaves while vibrant flowers adorned the stonework pathway leading to welcoming steps—all encased in an impeccably groomed lawn.
"This is enchanting. Who resides here?" Isobel inquired, captivated by the serene abode.
"Ryder revealed the ownership of the house. 'This belongs to my mom,' with a gentle smile, trying to soothe Isobel's evident nerves. As they approached, a lady emerged from the front, her hand raised in greeting to Ryder.
'Morning, Ryder!' She sang across the space between them.
'Mom? Why are you here? I thought today was your visit to Aunt Jane's,' Ryder questioned, perplexed at the sight of her.
'She's under the weather. I'll be visiting next weekend instead.' She paused to sip her coffee, then turned a curious gaze toward Isobel. 'And who do we have here?'
'Ryder interjected, 'Ah, this is Isobel.' He then gestured between them. 'Isobel, meet my mother, Celeste.'
Isobel offered a warm greeting, 'It's a pleasure, Celeste.'
As Celeste descended the porch steps and neared them with an amiable smile, she inquired about their plans while stroking Ryder’s horse. Her attention then shifted to Isobel with a grin. 'How do you find riding so far?' She asked.
'Quite honestly? I’ve been missing out more than I realized,' Isobel responded amidst shared smiles.
'Well, don't be strangers and come for coffee sometime,' Celeste invited but accepted their decline due to Ryder's work and Isobel's need to return home.
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With a reassuring touch on Isobel’s leg before departing back inside, Celeste whispered with an impish wink, "You must hold a special place if you're here."
The pair resumed their ride in heavy silence until curiosity overcame Isobel. 'What did she imply by that?'
Ryder glanced over before responding softly, 'The thing is... I haven’t brought anyone home like this before.'
Isobel looked surprised. 'Not even once?'
He met her gaze earnestly. 'No one else has been brought here, Isobel. Perhaps my reputation suggests otherwise, but my home isn't just another stop for acquaintances.' His eyes held a seriousness that softened Isobel's features."
Perplexed and quiet, Isobel rode on. Upon reaching Ryder's barn, they brought the horses to a halt. It was then that Ryder directed his horse towards Isobel, drawing up beside her. "Next weekend, I'm entering a competition in Shelbyville, and I'd be thrilled if you could be there to support me," he stated. The invitation took Isobel aback, causing her to pause before responding.
After half a year away from the sport, Ryder expressed his wish for a friendly face amid the spectators as this event marked his much-anticipated comeback; his hopeful smile and charming dimples made Isobel's heart flutter. "I would be delighted to attend, Ryder," she replied earnestly.
Ryder nudged Harley closer, until his leg brushed against Isobel's on Annie. He leaned in slightly, holding her gaze before softly asking for permission with a "May I?" An affirmative nod from Isobel was all he needed.
With that consent, Ryder closed the gap between them and planted a tender kiss on her lips. Retreating only to catch her glance and savor the moment, he steadied himself with one hand on her saddle horn while the other caressed Isobel's cheek with gentle affection. Then, he brought his lips back to hers for a deeper, more fervent kiss.
As they separated again, Ryder exhibited a blend of bewilderment and longing on his face. Regaining composure atop his horse, he suggested they tend to their steeds' needs. Gracefully dismounting, Ryder assisted Isobel to the ground with careful hands guiding her waist. He drew closer until their bodies touched; there against Annie's flank, Ryder leaned in for another impassioned embrace. With arms wrapped around each other—Isobel's hands clasped behind Ryder's head and his arms cinching around her slender waist—they shared a kiss charged with escalating passion.
Sensing himself nearing a brink of restraint, Ryder gently broke away and took Isobel's hand in his. Together they escorted the horses into the barn where Ryder took charge of securing them before beginning to remove their tack.
Observing from a short distance was Isobel, whose attention fell upon the defined muscles working along Ryder's arms and back as they moved rhythmically with each unbuckling of the saddle cinch on Annie’s back—a process already completed for Harley—after removing their bridles for halter and lead ropes setup. As Ryder flipped Harley’s stirrup onto the saddle seat to get at the cinch beneath it, Isobel approached Annie and commenced stroking her neck soothingly.
On spotting a brush resting upon a hay bale nearby, Ryder suggested, "Feel free to use that brush over there if you'd like to groom her.
Grasping the brush, Isobel gently stroked it down Annie's neck and shoulders. Out of nowhere, she sensed Ryder's presence close behind her, his chest pressed gently to her back. He reached out, enveloping her hand in his, guiding it.
"Like this," he murmured, directing the bristles tenderly along the horse's neck and flank.
As Ryder guided her, Isobel's heartbeat quickened with his proximity. Tilting her head, she caught a glimpse of his shoulder hovering above hers. Lifting her eyes further still, she found Ryder's lips descending onto hers.
With a firm grip around her, Ryder spun Isobel to face him without breaking their kiss. His hands cradled her face lovingly as he deepened the kiss; she surrendered as his tongue sought entrance.
Gasping for air, they finally separated, gazing into each other’s eyes with a shared amused breath before parting with a laugh. Ryder then turned back toward his horse to finish the unsaddling task.
After securing the horses in their stalls and feeding them, Ryder captured Isobel's hand and led her outside towards the house.
"I'll take you home now," he declared while cleaning the coffee pot and setting it back. Facing Isobel by the kitchen island, he proposed, "How about dinner out tonight? Maybe Rose and Wren would join us?"
Isobel beamed. "I'd love that."
Ryder's smile deepened, making his dimples more pronounced than ever. "Grab your belongings and I'll drive you home. I've got some work with a couple of horses before tonight."
Upstairs, Isobel searched hastily for her dress and other items, but her purse was nowhere to be seen. Descending to the living room yielded no better results.
"What are you looking for?" Ryder inquired.
"My purse," she replied, pausing to remember. "I must have left it in your truck."
Noticing his downturned glance, she reassured him with a hand on his heart. "It's okay, Ryder."
He covered her hand with his own and met her gaze again. "You truly are exceptional." His lips met hers softly. "Ready to go?"
In the truck, Isobel retrieved her phone from the forgotten purse: twelve missed calls from Bella Rose and a barrage of twenty-one texts awaited her attention.
"Oh dear…"
"What’s wrong?"
"Rose has been trying to reach me," Isobel said as she scrolled urgently through the messages: Wren was home safe; Rose made it back as well.
She continued through more frenzied texts from Rose.
"I better call her before she sends out a search party."
Pressing the call icon, she lifted the phone to her ear, anticipation buzzing in her veins.
"Isobel! Where on earth are you?"
Bella Rose's voice thundered through the speaker, so strident Ryder overheard and let out a bemused chuckle.
"Oh, I'm hitching a ride with Ryder; he's kindly dropping me off at home as we speak."
"Really? Well, we need a chat. Heading to your place now. See you in a bit."
Before Isobel could even protest, Rose had already disconnected. Sighing, Isobel pocketed her phone.
"Trouble?" Ryder inquired with a hint of concern.
"Nope... it's just Rose panicking because I didn't come home last night. She's zooming over to mine now."
Ryder's laughter filled the car again. "In the retelling, go easy on the parts where I'm the villain, will you?"
"She knows some already—remember, she was there," Isobel jibed with a twinkle in her eye.
Ryder's expression clouded with confusion. "So what exactly went down last night? My memory gets hazy after our first dance."
All throughout the drive home, Isobel recounted every moment of the previous evening to Ryder—dots connected with laughter and occasional directions—until they pulled into her townhouse driveway and he cut the engine.
Turning earnestly to face her, Ryder began, "Isobel, for whatever I did or said last night and this morning that disrespected you—I'm truly sorry. Inviting you out wasn't meant to end up like that. Look, I've got my share of demons, and old habits die hard. But I'm on it."
With a gentle nod and an encouraging smile, Isobel replied, "I'm willing to put my faith in you, Ryder. Honestly. But if history repeats itself..."
Her words were gently silenced by his interjection: "Nothing of that sort will happen again; you have my word. Let today be our new beginning."
"A new beginning," she affirmed with a beam.
Stepping out of the truck, he gallantly opened her door to assist her down by extending his hand. They strode together to her front entrance as he patiently lingered for Isobel to unlock it.
"I've got to dash and tackle some work, but tonight—I'll see you," he declared before pressing his lips tenderly against her hand in farewell.
As Isobel watched Ryder's truck disappear down the street, Bella Rose swung into the drive with infectious enthusiasm skipping towards Isobel.
"Alright lady, spill it," she declared brandishing breakfast offerings. "I brought bagels and caffeine for your confession."
Safely ensconced within Isobel’s kitchen walls, she spilled every detail of their night—from their initial twirl on the dance floor right up to Ryder’s parting gesture by her doorstep.
"Just to be clear, you had this guy, totally naked, right in front of you and you did nothing?"
"Come on Rose, you know that's not my style."
"I get it, I do. But honey, imagine that—just him and the droplets of water shimmering on his skin...mmmm." With a theatrical sigh, Rose reclined into the pillows on the sofa, shielding her eyes with her forearm as if envisioning the sight.
"Speaking of visuals, what about you and Wren?"
Abruptly sitting upright and abandoning her daydream, Rose exclaimed, "Oh Isobel, he's amazing! A real charmer: kind-hearted, sweet as can be, and let's not forget utterly charming."
"You guys didn't...you know?"
"No way! Sure, I'm a flirt and more outgoing than you. I might not be Ms. Innocent but give me some credit—I'm no pushover. A decent courtship comes before anything else for me."
"I must say Rose, it's impressive how high you've set the bar," Isobel quipped with a smile. She had been close with Rose ever since they were university students. Under typical circumstances, someone like Rose wouldn't have been in Isobel's circle of friends. Despite Rose's shortcomings, she truly was a stand-up person at heart. The two clicked instantly and became inseparable besties from that point forward.
Bella Rose's life had revolved around barrel racing; she lived freely, loved to hit every party in town, and yes—had mingled with plenty of men along the way. Isobel’s life presented a stark contrast: she'd never even been near a horse until Bella came into her life, avoided parties like the plague, and only had a handful of romantic relationships. Yet none had stirred the emotions within her quite like Ryder did—and handling this new whirlwind of feelings was an unfamiliar challenge for her.