Isobel and her family rose to their feet, voices lifting in thunder as Ryder strode across the dirt. He wore his black Wrangler shirt stitched heavy with sponsor patches, jeans broken in just right, and black leather chaps that gleamed under the lights. A man could spend a lifetime trying to strike that balance between grit and polish, but Ryder wore it like second skin. He doffed his black felt hat, sweeping it toward the crowd with a billionaire’s composure and a cowboy’s ease, his gaze ...