Chapter 10

As dusk settled, Ryder steered his pickup to Isobel's front yard, stepping out and waiting at the passenger's side. Clad in dark-washed denim, a crisp white shirt, and a navy blazer adorned with elbow patches, he stood—his signature cowboy hat absent, his hair artfully tousled in the way that made Isobel's heart flutter.

"Good evening, ma'am," Ryder greeted with a gentle tilt of his head, his eyes lighting up. "As stunning as ever." With a gallant gesture, he swung open the door and ushered her into the truck. Earlier that day, Isobel had indulged in some retail therapy, settling on an elegant black lace dress that kissed her knees. Its bodice featured a delicate sweetheart neckline, while a sheer lace overlay graced her shoulders and sleeves echoed the intricate pattern. She paired it perfectly with high heels and let her hair cascade freely down her back.

Their destination was a luxe steakhouse—a first for Isobel—where they met Wren and Bella Rose. The atmosphere buzzed with perfection; succulent dishes were savored without the haze of spirits. Laughter underscored conversations that were brimming with ease and delight, as Wren and Rose's rapport mirrored the rapidly blossoming connection between Ryder and Isobel.

The night wound down with Ryder chauffeuring Isobel back to her dwelling. Ever the gentleman, he opened her door—his actions a familiar dance—and accompanied her up to her doorstep. A tender kiss sealed their evening—a testament to his efforts to amend yesterday's wrongs. To Isobel's relief, Ryder was embodying the good man she envisioned within him. Her attraction compelling her to pace herself carefully; after all, something so potentially profound warranted measured steps.

It was on May 2nd, 2024 at the Shelbyville MRCA Rodeo in Georgia when morning broke over the horizon. Ryder alighted from his vehicle, arms reaching skyward in robust stretches before tending to his left shoulder with dedicated pulls. Persistent knocks on the backseat window roused Wren from slumber.

Groggily emerging from the truck cab, Wren complained about the ungodly hour,

"Let's check out those bulls and grab our draw numbers," urged Ryder.

Wren stifled a yawn as he replied, "I'm aware... Just need a moment till every part of me catches up to being awake. And where on earth is our coffee?"

With an amused chuckle shaking his head; Ryder called out over his shoulder as he strode towards the arena grounds, "Join me when you find your footing!"

Rose and Isobel departed at dawn to ensure they arrived at the rodeo punctually.

"The event kicks off at 2 pm?" inquired Isobel.

"Correct, but we'll see the bareback riders first. The bull riders always wrap up the show. They're a huge draw for the crowd; organizers save them for last to keep spectators hooked," Rose explained.

"Is that so? But why?"

"It's a bit morbid..." Rose hesitated, "but the truth is, people are on edge watching, almost expecting someone to take a fall during the bull riding."

"That's horrifying!" exclaimed Isobel, feeling a surge of anxiety. "I can't fathom why Wren and Ryder would pursue such a sport. Ryder attempted to justify it, saying it seemed tied to his longing for his father's approval."

With a look of surprise, Rose turned to her friend and said, "You're not aware?"

"Aware of what?"

"Ryder's father passed away. He was killed by a bull at a rodeo a decade ago."

Isobel's eyes widened. "How do you know that?"

"Wren disclosed it to me recently."

So that's what he implied by 'was.'

"Pardon?"

"Never mind. How about you? When do you compete?" Isobel hastily shifted the topic.

"I'm up just before the bulls," Rose responded with playful mischief in her eyes. "We come in as the second greatest attraction for the crowds."

The women shared a light-hearted laugh as Rose merged the truck and its horse-laden trailer onto the freeway ramp, ready for an adventure-filled day ahead.

"Hey there, Ryder," a familiar voice called out.

Ryder pivoted, spotting Rick, a fellow bull rider and long-time acquaintance, hustling over.

"Heard the rumor you're hitting the circuit again this week. It's great to see you."

As he extended his hand for a firm shake, Rick followed it with a hearty pat on Ryder's back.

Feeling the camaraderie, Ryder replied, "It feels amazing to be back, my friend." He glanced over the steadily gathering crowd. "Seen Dustin around?"

"Nope, he's running late. Some issues with his truck."

"That's rough. Hope he gets here on time."

"He should; last I heard, he's only thirty minutes out and on his way again."

"Fantastic," Ryder said with relief. As he started off, "Oh by the way, have you crossed paths with Wren?"

Rick pointed towards the pens and replied, "Yeah, he was lingering by the calves not too long ago."

"Perfect—thanks!" Ryder set off in that direction but halted and pivoted back to add, "And hey, Rick—knock 'em dead tonight."

Rick grinned. "You too, ride hard."

Bella Rose eased her Ford to a gentle halt as she navigated through the gravel-covered lot, a mosaic of trucks and trailers scattered around. She spied an opening to nestle her vehicle and slid into the slot, parking securely.

"I need to get Samson out. Are you okay to be on your own for a bit? Or, if you prefer, you're welcome to stay by my side," she offered generously.

"I'll stick with you. Anything I can assist with?" came the inquisitive response.

"Actually, yes. Could you retrieve the hay bag and water bucket from the truck's rear?" Rose requested.

Eager to lend a hand, Isobel delved into the truck bed and gathered the requested items. She accompanied Rose toward the barn, trailing behind her to Samson's temporary stall for the weekend.

Amidst this frenzied backdrop, Isobel's eyes were open wide – a spectacle of boundless activity unfurled before her. Women and girls preened horses with meticulous strokes, skillfully coiled their hair, dabbed on makeup, or casually lounged in director's chairs while chatting on phones.

A myriad of men bustled too, adorning chaps with swift zips, dusting their felt hats clean, busily readying their horses for showtime. A young boy stood amidst it all in the corridor, effortlessly twirling a lariat overhead.

"There are so many people here," Isobel observed with astonishment.

"Oh indeed. Rodeos are quite the affair. It's surprising you've never spectated my performances before," Rose remarked.

"I never imagined I'd find it this captivating," Isobel admitted.

A light chuckle escaped Rose as she playfully countered, "But then a handsome cowboy strides in and suddenly things shift," nudging Isobel into an exploration of this vibrant new world.

Elbows nudged lightly in jest; cheeks flushed with a crimson tinge. "As you've rightly pointed out, Rose, there's something quite charming about Wrangler-clad figures."

Together they shared a laugh that left them clutching their shaking bellies.

"You ought to secure us seats so we catch all the action up-close – keep one warm for me? Drop me a message with your spot and I'll join as soon as possible."

"Consider it done. Catch you shortly."

Seats snagged within an optimal view just shy of lofty heights and close to the bustling chutes – just where Rose had advised – Isobel was set. Smartphone in hand, she alerted both Rose and Ryder to her location.

Her foresight proved invaluable; soon enough the stadium brimmed over as every seat was claimed.

Nearly forty minutes ticked by when suddenly an atmospheric change swept through – lights dimmed ceremoniously as an exuberant voice boomed through speakers.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! Immerse yourselves in what is undoubtedly Earth's most thrilling sport. Let us raise our voices for these intrepid athletes of western sports!"

One by one categories echoed through the arena – bareback riders marched forth proudly; team ropers followed suit; saddle broncs made their presence known; each announcement brought forward stalwart competitors gearing up for glory.

Perched at her seat's edge as barrel racers were hailed next - among them must be Rose! Isobel craned her neck for a sight of her friend but contented herself knowing she was part of it all. Continuations flowed: steer wrestlers crowned next, then tie-down ropers took their turn – each name sending pulses racing faster in anticipation amidst electrified air charged by collective eagerness.

He made the announcement for the bull riders, and her eyes scanned the area for Ryder. A procession of cowboys strode through the gate, clad in long sleeve button-up shirts adorned with sponsor patches, protective chaps, and their signature cowboy hats. Amidst the uncertainty of recognizing Ryder, he appeared as the sixth cowboy to enter, and she knew him instantaneously. Her heart thrummed with excitement at the sight of him.

The announcer called for the audience to rise to their feet and for the gentlemen to doff their hats before he commenced a prayer. "Our benevolent and Heavenly Father, we are grateful for uniting us today once again. We give thanks for life's blessing bestowed upon each of us. We earnestly petition your safeguarding over all our athletes and supporters; over every soul present here. Additionally, we implore a distinct blessing for our service members who vigilantly protect our country even as we gather here now. We seek your wisdom for our nation's leaders. Collectively, we beseech your pardon as every breath we draw falls short of your majestic glory. Today, we make these supplications in the name that reigns supreme. Amen."

Isobel discreetly brushed away a tear, her emotions stirred by the unexpected reverence observed at the rodeo.

As the announcer addressed the significance of the flag, uniformed figures emerged brandishing standards representing varied military branches and proceeded to the arena's heart while articulating their homage. She noted all cowboys had respectfully removed their hats during prayer, now cradling them over their hearts.

A woman gained spotlight introduction from the announcer and embarked on singing the National Anthem. Concurrently, a horsewoman bearing an American flag tore along the arena's perimeter rails. As the anthem swelled, so did the pace of her mount—culminating in a full sprint with Old Glory streaming gloriously behind as they circled.

The performance moved Isobel once more—the display prompting her to dab at teary eyes again.

As silence settled post-anthem, cowboys and cowgirls trotted from view with introductions transitioning towards the first bareback rider event.

Lost in rodeo enchantment, Isobel never noticed Bella Rose slipping into the adjacent seat until her voice startled her—a whispered question close enough to make Isobel jolt: "So, are you enjoying it?"

Startled, she gasped out loud before recovering her composure quickly. "Goodness, Rose! You nearly scared me to death."

Rose chuckled with amusement. "I see you're captivated by the rodeo excitement!"

"Bella Rose," Isobel breathed out in wonderment with a brightened countenance; "I had no idea this spectacle could be so enthralling!"

"I have been proclaiming its virtues for years," Bella Rose reminded her smugly.

"Yes... But I never envisioned it would be as spellbinding as this," acknowledged Isobel while gesturing expansively towards their surroundings.

With a knowing smile and a recline into her seat, Bella Rose declared confidently: "You're hooked."

Meeting Bella Rose's gaze with an undeniable spark of joy in her eyes, Isobel simply grinned in agreement.