1. Stephanie

1

STEPHANIE

I sat on the porch of the ranch house, a steaming mug of coffee cradled between my hands. I was enveloped by a profound sense of peace. The air was crisp and cool, carrying the sweet scent of dew-kissed grass and the earthy aroma of the vast Texan countryside that I now called home.

Now, at 56 years old, I finally had my precious morning peace that I had always craved.

Before me lay the expanse of my land, a sprawling sanctuary for my beloved horses. The first light of dawn began to break over the horizon, painting the sky in soft pastel hues of pink and gold. It was a breathtaking sight, one that never failed to stir my soul, and it filled me with that sweet sense of awe. The horses sensed the dawning of a new day and stirred from their slumber in the pastures below.

I watched with a smile as they stretched their powerful limbs and nuzzled one another affectionately, their breath forming wispy clouds in the chilly morning air. Each horse was a magnificent creature in its own right, with a sleek coat that gleamed in the early light and eyes sparkling with intelligence and curiosity.

I took a sip of my coffee and its rich, comforting warmth filled me from the inside out. It was a simple pleasure, this morning ritual of mine, but one that brought me immeasurable joy. With each sip, I felt myself becoming more grounded, more connected to the land and the horses that inhabited it.

From my early-morning spot on the porch, I could see the entire ranch spread out before me. The fields were a patchwork of vibrant greens and golden browns, dotted here and there with clusters of wildflowers that swayed gently in the breeze. In the distance, the rugged silhouette of the barn stood like a silent sentinel, its weathered boards a testament to the passage of time.

The sun rose higher in the sky and its golden rays began to warm my skin, chasing away the last remnants of the night's chill. It made for a feeling of pure tranquility, being surrounded by the beauty of nature and the gentle presence of the horses. In the soft morning light, I was reminded once again of the deep connection that exists between all living things, and of the profound sense of peace that comes from simply being present in the here and now.

Enveloped in the tranquility of the ranch, I couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for the ranch- my sanctuary that had become my refuge. The beauty of the sunrise, the gentle presence of the horses, and the comforting familiarity of the land. They all offered solace to my weary soul, soothing the frayed edges of my spirit.

Yet beneath the surface of the peaceful facade, a restlessness stirred within me. Like a dormant ember waiting to ignite. It was a feeling I'd tried to ignore, burying it beneath the comforting routines of ranch life since I had retired from the Army. But as the sun rose higher in the sky, casting its warm glow over the landscape, I found it harder to deny the stirring uneasiness.

I took another sip of coffee, its bitter warmth a stark contrast to the cool morning air. But I still felt my restlessness pressing in on me. An insistent reminder of the thoughts that I had been trying to escape.

I used to have my days filled working as an army doctor. I used to find purpose in helping people. In saving lives. I used to travel the world. I used to serve our country.

And now, only this. The peace of the ranch, the beauty of the expansive landscape and the incredible honor of spending time with my horses.

Captain Stephanie Morley- I barely recognized that name any more.

I glanced out over the pastures, watching as the horses grazed peacefully, oblivious to the turmoil churning within me. They were creatures of instinct, content to live in harmony with the rhythms of nature. As I took my final sip of the morning, I prayed that I would also find my place.

The familiar scent of hay and leather greeted me as I stepped into the stables. The air was filled with the soft sounds of horses shifting in their stalls. It had become a sanctuary of sorts, this place where time seemed to stand still. Normally, it offered some respite from the chaos of the outside world. But today, an undercurrent of tension lingered in the air and a weight seemed to settle on my shoulders like a heavy cloak.

My gaze drifted to Phantom's stall, my 2 year old with racehorse blood in his veins. His father was the great Obsidian Storm.

His dark silhouette standing out against the muted backdrop of the stable. There had always been something about him, something wild and untamed, which called to me in a way that I couldn't quite explain. He was a challenge—a puzzle waiting to be solved. I couldn't help but feel drawn to him, despite the warnings that echoed in the recesses of my mind.

Phantom had been born to a mare of mine always with the intention of becoming a racehorse, but I couldn't tame him. My attempts to ride him, well, they didn't all go well. I had fallen from Phantom many times and I was far from a beginner. I had been lucky so far although my hip still ached from the most recent fall. It was only a matter of time before I got properly hurt.

As I approached his stall, I could feel the tension coiling within me, a sense of unease that gnawed at the edges of my consciousness. Phantom was a horse of immense potential; of that there was no doubt. However, he was also a creature of untold power and a force to be reckoned with. And as much as I longed to unlock his hidden talents, I couldn't shake the feeling that doing so would unleash something beyond my control.

He was supposed to be a Derby horse like his great father- a winner of the Kentucky Derby at 3 years old. But, the chances of him making that challenge grew increasingly slimmer. In a Derby horse, their 3 year old year is THE year. It is their big moment right there. Then they can retire and live the rest of their life as a champion. Or pursue other horse sports as I always thought Phantom might.

I reached out to stroke his velvety muzzle, the touch of his warm breath against my skin sending a shiver down my spine. His eyes, deep pools of darkness, met mine with a mixture of defiance and curiosity—as if daring me to unlock the secrets that lay hidden within his soul. "Easy, boy," I murmured, my voice barely a whisper in the stillness of the stable. "We'll figure this out together, you and I."

But even as I spoke the words, doubt gnawed at the edges of my resolve. Phantom was a horse unlike any I had encountered. A creature of wild beauty and untamed spirit. His troubled soul shone like a beacon. Though I longed to help him find his place in the world, I couldn't shake the feeling that doing so would irrevocably change the balance of our fragile existence.

Lost in thought, I barely registered Melody's approach until she was standing beside me, her presence a comforting anchor in the storm of my uncertainty. "Hey, Steph," she greeted, her voice soft with concern. "I've been thinking about Phantom."

I glanced at her, a silent acknowledgment passing between us. Melody had always been able to read me like a book, her intuition a testament to the bond that had formed between us over the

years.

"Yeah, he's been acting up more than usual lately," I admitted, my voice tinged with frustration. "I just don't know what to do with him."

Melody studied me for a moment, her gaze searching mine for answers. "Steph, you know as well as I do that Phantom needs more than just love. He needs someone who can handle his spirit. Someone who can train him properly."

I nodded, the weight of her words settling like a heavy burden. "I know," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm not sure I'm ready to bring someone else in. I've always handled the horses myself and I'm not sure I'm ready to let someone else take over."

Melody placed a comforting hand on my arm, her touch grounding me in the present moment. "I understand, Steph. But sometimes, loving them isn't enough. Sometimes, you have to let go to truly help

someone find their purpose."

Her words hung in the air between us, a silent reminder of the choice that lay before me.

Phantom's fate rested in my hands, and I knew that whatever decision I made would shape not only his future, but mine as well. I knew I could send him away to a race track. But, I didn't want that. I didn't want to be separated from him.

As I turned away from Phantom's stall, the weight of indecision heavy upon my shoulders, I couldn't help but wonder if maybe Melody had been right. Perhaps, to truly help Phantom find his purpose, I would have to let go of my fears and insecurities, and trust that he would find his way in the end.

"Steph," Melody began again, her voice gentle yet firm, "I know this is hard for you to accept, but maybe it's time we consider bringing in some outside help." Her words seemed to linger as we stood in the quiet of the stable. A reminder of the difficult choices that lay before me. I knew she was right—that Phantom needed more than just love and care from me alone. But the thought of bringing in an outsider, of acknowledging that I couldn't handle Phantom's challenges on my own, filled me with a sense of unease.

I sighed, the weight of her idea pressing down on me. "I know," I admitted reluctantly, "but the thought of opening up the ranch to a stranger . . . it just feels like admitting defeat."

Melody reached out, placing a reassuring hand on my arm. "It's not defeat, Steph. It's recognizing that we all have our limitations. And sometimes, asking for help is the bravest thing we can do."

Her words struck a chord within me. They felt like truth. But the thought of facing Phantom's challenges head-on, of opening myself up to the judgment of others, still filled me with apprehension.

"Maybe we could go to the State Fair this weekend," Melody suggested tentatively. "There'll be plenty of trainers there and we could see if any of them might be a good fit for Phantom."

I hesitated, the thought of venturing beyond the safety of the ranch sending a shiver down my spine. But deep down, I knew Melody was right. If I wanted what was best for Phantom, I would have to swallow my pride and face the reality of the situation.

As things were, Phantom was a danger to us every day. Something needed to change.

"Okay," I finally conceded, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. "Let's go to the State Fair."

As we made our plans to go, I became more anxious. But beneath my fear and uncertainty, there was also a glimmer of hope—a feeling that perhaps, with the help of an outsider, Phantom could finally find the peace and purpose he so desperately craved. And if that meant opening up the doors of my ranch to someone new, then so be it. For Phantom's sake, I would do whatever it took to help him find his way.