"Welcome back, everyone. A special welcome to our new visitor, Anna. Anna, would you mind sharing what brought you here today?" Luther Hogan inquired.
The middle-aged woman cleared her throat and began, "Hi. I'm Anna. I lost my husband to prostate cancer two months ago. It's been...really hard."
"Thank you for opening up, Anna. I hope you find some comfort and hope by being with us. We are all here to support you."
Anna nodded and looked down at her hands as a tear rolled down her face.
"Would anyone like to start? Can someone tell us how they've been coping this week?" Luther asked.
"I am finally seeing a light at the end of the tunnel, and it's bright," Ryder began, a small smile forming on his face.
"That's wonderful news, Ryder. What's been happening that has brought you this newfound light?"
"For the first time in my life, I have a real girlfriend. I see a future I never thought possible." Ryder shifted in his seat and leaned forward, resting his arms on his legs. "I can remember my father and actually smile now."
"Ryder, that's amazing," Luther said warmly. "Could you share some of the steps you've taken to reach this turning point?"
"I started with therapy. Initially, I wasn't really doing the work she assigned me, but once I did, changes started happening. I began journaling. I said goodbye to my father and visited his grave for the first time." Ryder leaned back in his seat and cleared his throat. "I confessed to a wrongdoing and received forgiveness. Joining this group has been helpful too; hearing others' stories reminds me I'm not alone in my suffering and puts things into perspective."
Several people in the room nodded in agreement; a few newer members wiped tears from their cheeks.
"Thank you for sharing that with us, Ryder. We all can learn from your experience and see things from a different angle. Anyone else want to share?"
When the meeting concluded, Ryder stopped by the snack table to pour himself a coffee. As he took a sip, he noticed a poster on the wall.
Note to self: Healing is tough, but it's worth the time and effort needed to work through pain and break free from chains. I will not give up or be discouraged. I will keep looking up and moving forward because God is with me for the long haul; together we will triumph.
Luther approached just as Ryder finished reading it.
"That's an inspiring one," Luther remarked, glancing at the poster.
"I guess so," Ryder replied.
Luther turned to face him directly. "Are you a believer?"
"I used to be," Ryder said quietly. "After my dad died, whatever faith I had died with him."
"Ryder, I'd love it if you'd join us for our Sunday morning service. We have a laid-back, casual vibe with no pressure. Everyone here is a country person, into horses and rodeos. I really think you'd fit right in."
Ryder shrugged and continued studying the poster.
"Can I ask you something, Ryder?"
Ryder nodded without taking his eyes off the poster.
"Before you started therapy, did you want to go?"
Ryder finally looked at Luther. "No."
"And before your first group meeting here, were you eager to attend?"
"No."
"And did they help?"
Ryder exhaled deeply, "Yes."
"So how about giving our Cowboy Church a shot? You never know—it might just be what you need."
*****
Terry ascended the steps to Ryder's porch, where his brother awaited him in a chair.
"Hey, Ryder."
"Hey, Terry," Ryder greeted, lifting a second glass. "Want some tea?"
"Yes, please. It's blazing hot today. Thanks." Terry accepted the glass and settled into a vacant chair. "How did the rodeo go?"
"First place," Ryder responded with a grin.
"Really? That's awesome, Ryder. Dad would be thrilled and proud."
"Thanks, bro." Ryder took a deep sip of his tea. "Terry, I owe you an apology."
"For what?"
"For not being there for you and mom when you needed me."
"Ryder, you were grieving Dad too. You didn't have to be the strong one."
"But I wasn't there at all. I should have been present."
"Ryder, you and Dad had a unique bond that we'll never understand. You lost not only your father but your best friend. That's tough for anyone."
"I still should have been there for you. You're my little brother." Ryder leaned forward and patted Terry on the leg. "We've missed so much time, but I don't want to miss any more." A smile spread across Ryder's face. "We need to restart our weekly family cookouts at Mom's."
"Mom and I have said that for years. Yeah, maybe next week we will."
"Perfect." Ryder took another sip of tea and reclined in his chair, smiling as he gazed across the pasture.
"Ryder, I must say, I've never seen you this happy; not since Dad."
Ryder looked back at his brother. "I've never felt this happy."
"She's good for you, brother. I like her."
"She's ignited a spark in me; one I never knew existed. I've never wanted someone as much as I want her in my life. I see her in my home, carrying my child. Terry, I'm falling in love with her."
"Ryder, I'm so happy for you. You deserve it and Isobel is wonderful."
"She's perfect, Terry. Absolutely perfect."
"So when's the wedding?" Terry teased.
Ryder turned to him with a serious expression.
"Ryder? Is there something you want to tell me?"
Laughing, Ryder replied, "No, I haven't proposed yet. I haven't even told her I love her."
"What are you waiting for?"
"Honestly, Terry, I'm not sure."
*****
Ryder slid a baking pan into the oven just as a knock echoed from the front door. Opening it, he found Isobel standing there, looking stunning in a long dress with spaghetti straps.
"You look amazing," Ryder remarked, leaning in for a kiss.
"Thank you. Something smells delicious."
"Come on in and join me in the kitchen." Ryder stepped aside to let Isobel enter, closing the door behind her.
"What smells so good?"
"That would be pork cotoletta."
"Wow. Sounds fancy." Isobel glanced around the kitchen. "Did you make all of this?"
Ryder chuckled, "Yes, I did! Living alone taught me to fend for myself, and luckily, I love cooking."
Isobel giggled. "What's this? Fondue?"
"Yes, it's a cheese fondue," Ryder said in his best Julia Child impression, "paired with cubed baguette and an assortment of cured meats."
Isobel laughed as she watched him dance around the kitchen, tossing ingredients into bowls.
"In the oven are two pork cutlets, coated with flour and breadcrumbs, lemon zest, and grated Parmesan," he continued dramatically. "They'll be served with a creamy sage and white wine sauce."
Isobel burst into laughter as Ryder playfully flung a handful of flour into a bowl, creating a cloud of white dust.
They enjoyed their delightful meal at the kitchen island, sharing childhood stories. Ryder opened up about his father more than ever before, revealing layers Isobel hadn't seen. She noticed him becoming more relaxed with each passing moment.
After their meal, Isobel helped Ryder load the dishwasher and clean up, with occasional appearances from 'Julia Child.'
When everything was tidy, Isobel returned to her seat at the island.
"I'll be right back," Ryder said as he walked to the living room. He came back holding a leather-bound book that Isobel had given him and sat across from her.
"Isobel, I'd like to read an entry from my journal to you."
"Okay... Ryder, are you sure?"
"Yes, very." Ryder cleared his throat. "This entry is from the evening you came over and forgave me."
Isobel nodded attentively.