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“They’re almost here, girl,” Isla whispered.

Belle nickered softly, and Isla smiled. She wasn’t the only one pleased to see the handsome pair return.

Blaze entered the yard just as Ezra reappeared. Without a word, the stableboy set the small stool he was carrying on the ground and stepped forward to take Belle’s reins from Isla. Moments later, Simon brought Blaze to a halt a few feet from them.

“Forgive me,” he said, dismounting in one swift movement. He stepped toward her, the bright sparkle in his eyes only enhancing his windswept good looks. “Have you been waiting long?”

“Not at all,” Isla said, wishing she still had access to mascara or had at least taken a few minutes longer to do something with her hair. It wasn’t right that Simon could look so good this early in the morning. “How was your ride?”

“Marvelous. The weather is perfect.” He glanced at Belle. “Are you ready to go?”

“Absolutely,” Isla said.

He smiled and extended his arms. “May I?”

At her nod, he placed his hands on her waist. Awareness pulsed through her, but without a word, she set her hands on his shoulders, and with practiced ease, he lifted her onto the saddle. She shifted slightly, anchoring her leg around the pommel.

“Okay?” he asked.

She laughed at his use of the modern expression. “Yes. In my sense of the word and yours.”

With a chuckle, he mounted Blaze again. “Would you open the gate for us, Ezra?”

“Right away, m’ lord.” Ezra handed Isla the reins and was across the yard in a flash.

Isla tapped Belle’s side with her heel, and the obedient horse moved to Blaze’s left. Blaze offered her an acknowledging snort. The stallion probably knew what was coming. At Belle’s decorous pace, the short ride to the lookout each morning offered Simon’s horse little more than a cooldown after his more demanding morning run.

“So,” Simon said after Ezra had closed the gate behind them. “What miraculous twenty-first-century contraption are you going to tell me about today?”

Isla gave him an amused look. On their second ride to the lookout, Simon had asked her what she missed most from her life in the future. The question had been the beginning of a unique portion of their morning ride. Every day, she told him about something new. Describing flushing toilets and indoor plumbing had not been nearly so difficult as explaining a computer or electricity, but Simon’s fascination over future inventions had yet to abate.

“You believe I will run out of things, don’t you?” she asked.

“Will you?”

“I don’t think so. At least, not for a very long time.”

He appeared thoughtful. “You are missing a great deal.”

“Yes. But I’m experiencing some amazing things too. I’d never have the opportunity to ride sidesaddle every morning if I were still at home.”

“That is completely foreign to me,” he said. “I can scarcely imagine a world without a daily ride.”

They had almost reached the fallen tree, and the beautiful dale below was coming into view.

“Truthfully,” Isla said, “my time is louder and faster and lacks the many peaceful moments you enjoy.” Memories of her long hours at work and stressful deadlines filled her mind. “Or maybe they’re there if you search for them, but I didn’t take the time to find them.”

“Well then,” he said, “I am glad the seventeenth century has offered you something of worth.”

“Many things actually.” If she were torn away from this life as quickly as she’d been sent here, there was no doubt in Isla’s mind as to what—or who—she would miss most, but she wasn’t going to admit to that now.

Simon guided Blaze to a halt at their usual stopping spot, dismounted, and walked to Belle’s side. “I would like to hear what you have come to consider to be of value,” he said, raising his arms to her.

“Time spent with Sam and Will,” she said without hesitation. It was a safe answer and one that he could not refute. He knew how much she enjoyed being with the twins.

“Of course. I miss them when I am elsewhere.” He set his hands on her waist, and a familiar spark crackled to life between them. “Anything else?”

He wasn’t playing fair. Steeling herself against the warmth in his eyes, she slid her leg over the pommel and reached for his shoulders. “Bread pudding.”