They exited the movie theater, laughter bubbling between them, as Ryder did his Julia Child impression once more.
"You're such a goofball, Ryder."
"I live to entertain, my dear," he replied, intertwining their fingers.
"Your paintings are incredible, Isobel," Ryder remarked as he steered the truck onto the highway toward her home.
"When did you see my paintings?" she inquired.
"Oh, about that... when I first arrived at your place and noticed your front door was open, I got a bit anxious when you didn't answer my calls. I heard a noise upstairs, so I went up calling your name several times. Upon reaching your door, I heard the hair dryer and decided to head back down. But while I was up there, I caught a glimpse of your paintings. They're truly magnificent, Isobel. You have an amazing talent."
"Thanks. Painting is my passion. One day, I'd love to have my very own art studio at home."
"That's a wonderful dream."
After dropping her off at home, Ryder headed back to his place but made a stop at the barn first. He strolled down the aisle, checking on each horse before saddling up Harley for a night ride under the clear sky and full moon that illuminated the field ahead of them.
They wandered around the ranch as countless thoughts swirled in Ryder's mind. He prayed, hoped, and planned. Once Harley was settled back in the barn, Ryder drove to the house, retrieved a sheet of paper and began jotting down a list.
He picked up his phone and dialed Rose's number. "Rose, I need your help."
After an exhausting week filled with meticulous planning, endless phone calls, and yet another rodeo, Ryder finally found himself gazing out the window of an airplane, mesmerized by the sweeping green and brown landscape below. Rose had been instrumental in assisting him with every requirement, and Ryder had made the crucial call. Now, Bella Rose was keeping Isobel occupied, allowing Ryder to set his plan into motion.
The weekend's rodeo had been another triumph. Ryder secured first place once more, while Wren came in third. Rose also emerged victorious, clinching another first-place win. With the event located just two hours from their homes, the group had traveled together in a single truck and returned home in the same manner when it concluded.
Following Luther's advice, Ryder delved into the book of John every day, journaling his reflections. He felt his spirit soar as he drew nearer to God.
Ryder's gaze drifted back to the window, where he watched the clouds leisurely float by, bathed in sunlight. He glanced down at his journal resting on the table. Opening it to a blank page, he began to write.
Ryder disembarked from the plane and navigated his way through the bustling crowd toward the car rental counter. After securing his vehicle, he embarked onto the highway, letting his phone's GPS guide him.
Upon arriving at the driveway of an imposing white house, he parked and paused for a moment. Seated with both hands on the steering wheel and his head bowed, Ryder's heart raced as he tried to calm himself with deep breaths.
"Please, Lord. Grant me strength and courage. Guide my words. Thank you, God. Amen."
Drawing in another deep breath through his nose and exhaling through his mouth, Ryder opened his car door.
He rang the doorbell and stepped back, bracing himself for what lay ahead. When the door swung open, a well-dressed older woman appeared. "You must be Ryder," she said warmly.
"Yes, ma'am," Ryder replied, extending his hand. "You must be Mrs. Wright."
Grace Wright welcomed Ryder inside and led him through the entry hall to Thomas's office. Traversing the hallway, Ryder got a glimpse of Isobel's childhood environment. Grace opened the door to the office, ushered him in, and closed the door behind him.
Ryder settled into a luxurious leather chair in front of an equally elegant desk. The office was lined with what appeared to be law books. As he surveyed the room, framed photos of Isobel and her family were scattered across some shelves, mounted on the walls, and displayed on the desk.
Feeling anxious, Ryder straightened his posture in the chair. He wiped his sweaty palms on his thigh and swallowed hard to quell the lump forming in his throat.
The door opened, and Ryder swiftly stood up to face an imposing man with salt-and-pepper hair, wearing a crisp white dress shirt with the top button undone, slate grey slacks, and high-end leather shoes. The man's crystal blue eyes mirrored Isobel's as he entered the room.
Assuming this was Mr. Wright, Ryder extended his hand when the man approached. "Ryder. I'm Thomas," he introduced himself.
"Hello, sir," Ryder replied, shaking his hand firmly. "Very nice to meet you."
Thomas walked around to his side of the desk and took a seat. Ryder returned to his chair and slowly sat back down.
"I understand you wanted to talk about Isobel," Thomas began.
Ryder swallowed hard again. "Yes, sir. That is correct."
"I'd like to ask you a few questions first, if that's alright," Thomas continued.
"No problem at all, sir," Ryder responded, shifting slightly in his chair.
"You're a bull rider, correct?"
"Yes, sir."
"Aren't you worried about getting seriously injured or even killed?"
"Every time I ride, sir. But I don't let that fear control my life."
"Isn't that how your father died?"
Ryder met Thomas's gaze for a brief moment, "Yes, sir. My father passed away in a rodeo accident."
"And yet, you continue to ride."
"With all due respect, sir, I also lost a cousin in a car accident. And a close friend of mine died in a freak accident while riding his horse. But I haven't stopped driving or riding my horses. I don't believe in living life in fear and avoiding what you love. I'm a third-generation bull rider; I've been on bulls since I was old enough to hold on." Ryder took a deliberate breath, releasing it slowly, then looked directly at the distinguished gentleman and spoke earnestly. "I love what I do and take every precaution possible. I understand your concerns, especially with Isobel involved."
Thomas leaned back in his chair, pressing his fingertips together, and fixed Ryder with those piercing blue eyes. "Ryder, why did you come here?"
Ryder shifted slightly in his seat, wiped his hands again, and cleared his throat. "Mr. Wright, I'm in love with your daughter. She's the most amazing woman I've ever met. She deserves the world."
Thomas lowered his hands, "And how do you plan to give her that, Ryder?"
"Sir, I'm prepared to give her anything she wants or needs. But this isn't about money. I love her with all my heart and she loves me." Ryder edged forward on his seat. "I know Isobel loves her family and thinks the world of you." Ryder inhaled deeply through his nose. "I would like to ask your permission to marry your daughter."
Thomas remained silent as he studied Ryder. Ryder nervously wiped his hands across his thighs, awaiting a response.
"Ryder, I can hear in your voice that you do love my daughter. And I know she loves you as well. But your lifestyle worries me." Thomas paused thoughtfully. "How long are you in town?"
"My flight leaves tomorrow afternoon, but I can change it if needed." Ryder took a moment before meeting Thomas Wright's eyes again. "Sir, I scheduled an extra day to spend time with you and Mrs. Wright if it fits into your schedules. I understand that meeting me right now and seeking your blessing to marry Isobel might come as quite a surprise. I'd appreciate the opportunity to talk more so you can get to know me better before I leave town."
Thomas nodded thoughtfully and suggested, "Why don't you join us for dinner this evening, Ryder? Mrs. Wright and I are eager to get to know you better."
"Yes, sir. I'd love to. Thank you," Ryder replied.
He followed Thomas out to the expansive deck overlooking the ocean, where Grace awaited with glasses of tea for everyone. She handed a glass to Ryder with a warm smile.
"Thank you, Mrs. Wright," Ryder said gratefully as he accepted the tea.
"Oh, please call me Grace," she insisted, still smiling.
Ryder seated himself across from the Wrights and took a nervous sip of his tea.
"So, Ryder," Grace began, "tell us about your family."
"I have one brother, Terry. He's two years younger than me, married with three kids. My mother, Celeste, lives nearby. We're all ranchers. My brother's wife, Sam, is a nurse," he explained.
"A nurse? That's wonderful," Grace remarked. "No sisters?"
"Nope, it was just Terry and me," Ryder grinned. "We were enough for our parents. Growing up on a ranch gives you plenty of opportunities to get into trouble."
"I bet," Grace chuckled. "Our daughters had their fair share of mischief when they were younger too."
Thomas leaned forward with curiosity. "So, Ryder," he asked, "what are your plans for the next five years? Do you see yourself still riding bulls?"
"Well, sir," Ryder began thoughtfully as he shifted in his seat to face Thomas more directly, "I've been considering that a lot lately. I plan to ride for another year or two depending on how this season turns out. But after that, I'm seriously thinking about retiring from bull riding."
Thomas raised an eyebrow. "Really? What would you do next?"
"I already train several horses for people and intend to continue that," Ryder explained. "With more time on my hands, I could take on even more horses. Plus, my brother and I help my mother run her cattle ranch and we receive shares from that as well."
Thomas listened intently and nodded as Ryder spoke, absorbing every word.
"Is the pay good?" Grace inquired.
"Yes, ma'am, we do quite well with it."
"And how did you meet Isobel?" Thomas questioned.
"Her friend, Rose, brought over a troubled horse for me to train, and Isobel came along with her."
"When was this?"
"Let me think...ah, yes, it was late April."
"You've only known our daughter for barely three months and you're proposing already? Don't you think that's too soon?" Thomas asked sternly.
"I understand it seems quick. I know it must feel unusual at this stage of our relationship; but I love your daughter more than anything and want to spend my life proving that to her. I want to give her everything she desires. I dream of starting a family with her." Ryder leaned forward, resting his arms on his legs. "Mr. and Mrs. Wright, I assure you both, that Isobel will be loved as she ought to be. She'll be well cared for. I'll do everything in my power to make her happy and keep her safe."
Ryder noticed lingering doubts in the Wrights' expressions.
"Sir, ma'am, there's something I haven't even told Isobel yet, but I plan to when I return. I've recently gone back to church, accepted Christ into my heart, and plan on being baptized in a couple of weeks." Ryder felt tears welling up and fought them back. "I didn't want to tell Isobel until I was further along in my spiritual journey." He sat upright. "It would mean a lot if you came to Georgia. I'd love for you to meet my family and be there for my baptism. And I know Isobel would love to see you."
This unexpected revelation caught them off guard; Thomas and Grace exchanged glances. Finally, Grace responded, "Ryder, we would be honored to be there."
Thomas quickly looked at his wife with furrowed brows. Grace smiled warmly at him before turning back to Ryder. "We were planning to visit Isobel soon anyway; just let us know when."