Isobel and Bella Rose had saddled up their horses, the animals stamping and nickering softly in the early morning sun. The scent of hay and leather mingled with the sweet tang of wildflowers drifting on the breeze. Isobel adjusted her reins and gave a gentle pat to the neck of her chestnut mare, feeling the familiar comfort of the horse beneath her.
“Well, we’re all set,” Bella Rose said, her ponytail swaying as she swung her leg over her horse. “Let’s see if we can’t actually enjoy this ride before the guys show up.”
No sooner had she spoken than the crunch of tires on gravel reached their ears. They looked up, and Ryder’s truck rolled into view, kicking up a cloud of dust. Behind it came John, looking completely out of place in a crisp navy suit, a stark contrast to the dusty, sun-warm
