Ryder had been lost in the rhythm of horse training all morning, letting the sound of hooves and snorting mares fill the gaps where thoughts of Isobel gnawed at him. Delilah was nearly ready to be returned to Rose, and as he led her and a younger colt into the barn, the crunch of tires on gravel made him glance up. Assuming it was his mother, he kept walking, the scent of hay and leather grounding him.
After securing the young horse in its stall, he led Delilah into hers, removing her halter and running a brush down her glossy coat. The soft swish of the bristles against her flanks was interrupted by a voice—soft, but impossible to ignore.
“Ryder?”
Startled, he dropped the brush, stepping out of the stall. His heart pounded like a bronc bucking in the chute, his stomach twisting into kn
