Isobel spotted him first—Ryder, sitting cross-legged in the dappled shade of the old pecan tree, knee-to-knee with Savannah. They were deep in some kind of hands-only game, their laughter weaving in and out like wind through prairie grass. It was the kind of easy joy that made the world look simpler than it really was.

“They’ve got quite the bond, those two,” Celeste murmured beside her, her voice all soft pride.

Isobel smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “They ...