As the last hymn trailed off and folks began drifting toward the barn doors, the place filled with a low hum—boots scuffing sawdust, the rustle of dresses, the murmur of congratulations. Ryder and Isobel found themselves hemmed in by neighbors, kin, and church friends, each voice rising with blessing and admiration.
Ryder leaned down close, his voice roughened with awe. “Darlin’, I had no idea you carried a voice like that. You sat at that piano and flat-out knocked the wind outta me.”
Isobel’s smile caught the light, soft and playful. “Guess our talks never wandered into music.”
Ryder laughed under his breath, pulling her against him in a quick embrace, the scent of hay and woodsmoke still clinging to his shirt. “Thank you for giving that gift to everybody—and to me.”
Celeste joined t
