Chapter 38

Ryder was now in the expansive arena with Delilah. He had saddled her up and was putting her through her paces before their ride. He positioned his foot in the stirrup and smoothly swung his leg over, settling into the saddle. A gentle cluck propelled her into a slow walk. He guided her around the arena with various transitions and gaits, bringing her to a stop in the center. Gently tugging on the reins, he made her step back until he relaxed them. Ryder gave her neck a reassuring pat and allowed her a few minutes of rest before repeating the routine.

Delilah had transformed since she first arrived at his ranch. Initially distrustful and clearly mistreated by someone, she had now placed her trust in Ryder, responding kindly to his cues. She had become the kind of horse he would cherish for himself or his family.

As Ryder let Delilah rest again, he reflected on his own journey. Much like Delilah, he was initially reluctant to accept help until he chose to change and trust others to aid him in that process. Allowing someone into his life had initiated his healing, just like it had for Delilah.

After finishing their session and settling Delilah back in her stall, Ryder headed to the house. He washed up in the small bathroom sink before grabbing a bottled water from the fridge. As he stood at the kitchen window, he gazed out over his backyard and the sprawling pasture beyond.

Ryder strolled into the office, spotting his dad engrossed in something at his desk. "What are you reading, Daddy?"

"Come here, Ryder." Tyler lifted five-year-old Ryder onto his lap. "This is a Bible."

"A Bible? What's that?"

"It's a book that tells the story of how God created mankind, includes tales about Noah and Abraham, and many others. It also narrates the story of Jesus. "Who's Jesus, Daddy?"

"Jesus is the Son of God. He sacrificed himself for us so our sins could be forgiven, allowing us to enter heaven when we pass away."

"Jesus died?" Ryder's voice quivered with concern.

"Yes, son. But three days later, He rose from the dead and returned to life. Then He ascended to be with His Father."

"What are sins?"

"Sins are the wrong things people do that make God sad." Tyler could see Ryder's face pinched in deep thought. "Here, Ryder." Tyler picked up his Bible and held it out to him. "Let me read some of it to you."

Ryder's thoughts drifted back to the previous day, recalling the time he had spent with Luther. He placed the water bottle on the counter and ascended the stairs, walking down the hallway to a small closet. Opening the door, he reached up, taking a box from the top shelf, and carried it back to his kitchen.

Setting the box on the island, he lifted its lid and set it aside before peering inside. He reached in and pulled out a worn, leather-bound book. As he opened it, his eyes caught sight of his dad's notes scribbled in the margins and several passages highlighted in faded yellow ink. Flipping to the book of John, he began reading from chapter one.

"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it."

After finishing chapter one, Ryder followed Luther's advice: he took out his journal and began writing.

Ryder heard his phone ringing, swiftly turned off the shower, grabbed his towel in a hurry, and dashed to the bathroom counter where his phone lay.

"Hello?" he answered breathlessly, not checking the caller ID.

"Ryder?"

"Oh, hi, Isobel. How are you? Did you enjoy your time with Rose?"

"Always," Isobel laughed. "What are you up to?"

"I worked a few horses after lunch and just got out of the shower."

Isobel's mind instantaneously flashed back to the morning Ryder stood before her, droplets of water clinging to his skin. She closed her eyes, imagining him.

"Isobel?" Ryder's voice broke the silence. "Isobel, are you still there?"

"What?" Isobel asked, flustered.

"Did you hear what I asked?"

"Sorry, Ryder. No. What did you say?"

"I asked if you'd like to go see a movie?"

"I'd love to. What's playing?"

Ryder unfolded the paper and scanned the movie listings. A chuckle escaped him as he read.

"What's funny, Ryder?"

"Fancy and Julia is showing."

Isobel began to laugh too. "We have to see it now, don't we?"

"I think so."

After cementing their plans, Ryder hung up and continued getting ready. An hour later, he pulled into Isobel's driveway.

Upon reaching her front door, he noticed it was slightly ajar. He cautiously nudged it open and peered inside.

"Isobel?" He called out tentatively. "Isobel?" Still no reply. Stepping into the house and closing the door behind him, he called out louder, "Isobel?"

He advanced toward the living room when he heard a door close upstairs. "Isobel?" he shouted again.

Ascending the stairs slowly, he pinpointed a noise coming from one of the rooms—a hairdryer's hum. He smiled and retraced his steps down the hallway. Stopping at the first painting he encountered, Ryder leaned closer to read the signature in the lower right corner: Isobel's name in black ink was elegantly signed.

He took a step back, examining the painting before him. It depicted a young girl with long, flowing hair in a white dress, ambling away while her hand grazed the tall grass. He moved on to the next piece. This one showed a street leading to the Eiffel Tower, painted in soft muted tones dominated by pinks. A couple strolled hand in hand down this street, the man's arm draped around the woman's shoulders.

The third canvas presented a woman standing on a broad sidewalk, dressed in a striking red dress and holding a vivid blue umbrella. The trees around her were painted with an array of gentle pastel hues. The following painting captured the back of a woman in a dress, clutching a bouquet of flowers.

Ryder carefully observed each art piece. There were two additional paintings of the Eiffel Tower, one depicting a bridge adorned with colorful trees and another illustrating a balcony, likely somewhere in Italy.

Hearing that the hair dryer was off, Ryder descended the stairs and headed toward her sofa. Moments later, Isobel emerged from her stairs into the kitchen to fetch a glass of water. Just as she lifted it to her lips, Ryder appeared.

Startled, Isobel shrieked as the glass shattered on the floor. "Ryder Hayes!" she cried out, "You scared me half to death."

Struggling to suppress his laughter, Ryder apologized earnestly, "I am so sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you."

"What are you doing here...? How did you get in?" she asked, bewildered.

"Your front door was open," he replied.

"What?" she murmured then quickly realized. "Oh right! I moved that big potted plant from the front yard to the back and must have forgotten to shut it."

"You should be more cautious about that," he admonished gently.

"I know," she said with a grin, "I was just...preoccupied."

Ryder closed the distance between them and wrapped her in his arms. "Preoccupied with what? These things?" he teased before leaning down to kiss her deeply, pulling her closer.

When they finally parted, they both gasped for air.

"Yes," Isobel giggled, "those things." She glanced at the spilled shards on her floor.

"I'll handle this mess. Where do you keep your broom?" Ryder offered.

Isobel walked over to her closet and returned with a dustpan and hand broom. "Why are you here so early anyway?"

"Didn't we agree on six?" he asked.

Surprised, Isobel checked the clock hanging in her living room: 6:18 PM. "Oh my goodness! I completely lost track of time!"

"No worries," Ryder assured her. "We've got plenty of time before the movie starts." He took the broom and dustpan from her and began sweeping up the shards. "I'm really sorry for scaring you."

"It's okay, Ryder," Isobel said reassuringly. "Don't worry about it. I just need to finish getting ready; I'll only be five more minutes."

"Alright, I've got this," Ryder said, concluding his task of sweeping up the glass shards.

Five minutes passed and Isobel reappeared in the kitchen. "I'm ready."

Ryder glanced over; her hair cascaded in gentle curls around her shoulders. She wore dark, snug jeans paired with brown knee-high boots, a white scoop-neck t-shirt, and a delicate mint green sweater.

"You look stunning, Isobel." Ryder whispered before kissing her softly on the lips. He took her hand, guiding her to the door and holding it open for her. Once outside, he reclaimed her hand and guided her to his truck's passenger side, opening the door to help her up. Isobel settled into the middle of the seat, right next to Ryder.