Through it all, Isobel found herself swept between wonder and exhaustion. Days blurred into one another, a montage of fittings, meetings, and lessons in patience that no rodeo ever required. But each night, when she finally sank against Ryder’s chest, the chaos melted away. He would cradle her, large hands wrapping around her small frame, whispering assurances she no longer needed to question: You’re safe. You’re home. You’re mine.

Ryder himself moved like a man tethered to both worlds. ...