Back at the barn, Ryder eased the Massey Ferguson back into its stall with the same confidence he used to guide a bull rope—smooth, controlled, no wasted motion. He cut the engine, swung the heavy door open, and reached his hand down for Isobel. She slid into his grip, light as breath, and he followed after, boots thudding against the packed dirt.
“Oh my goodness, that was a blast!” Isobel laughed, her cheeks flushed, leaping into Ryder’s arms before he could steady himself. She wound her arms around his neck and covered his mouth with a flurry of kisses.
Ryder stumbled back against the giant tractor tire, his hat tipped askew. He crushed her to him, running his roughened fingers through her hair, deepening the kiss until the taste of her nearly undid him.
“Isobel…” His voice came ragge
