20. Ashlyn

20

ASHLYN

I could only describe my morning, my thoughts, and my mind as a series of snapshots. The alarm blared, pulling me from a dream filled with galloping horses and the smell of fresh hay. I blinked against the morning light streaming through the window, my heart pounding with a mix of excitement and anxiety. Today was the day. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, my feet hitting the cool floor, and took a moment to gather my thoughts. Phantom's big moment was finally here.

In the kitchen, I poured a cup of coffee, the rich aroma filling the air and giving me a much-needed boost. I could hear the faint sounds of Stephanie and Melody moving around in the background,

their laughter and chatter a comforting reminder of the support around me. I took a deep breath, trying to ground myself, visualizing Phantom and me crossing the finish line strong and victorious.

As the sun began to rise higher in the sky, I slipped into my riding boots and grabbed Phantom's gear. The barn was alive with activity, the sound of hooves on the ground echoing in the air. I approached Phantom in his stall and he nickered softly at me, his big brown eyes sparkling with energy. "Ready for today, big guy?" I murmured, giving him a gentle pat on the neck. We were a team, and I could feel the connection between us. I led him out and began loading him into the horse trailer, my heart racing as I secured him for the ride.

The drive to the venue was a blur of landscapes flashing past—fields of wildflowers, clusters of trees, and the occasional glimpse of fellow competitors on the road. My heart raced with each mile we covered, anticipation building within me. "Just stay calm," I whispered to Phantom, who shifted nervously in the trailer. I could feel the adrenaline surging through my veins. The excitement mingling with the inevitable nerves that accompanied any big race.

As we pulled into the venue, the atmosphere hit me like a wave. The place was bustling with activity, a hive of energy and noise. Horses whinnied in the distance and the air was filled with the scent of hay, leather, and a hint of sweat. My stomach fluttered with a mix of excitement and anxiety as I stepped out of the truck. I took a moment to absorb it all—the tents, the crowd, and the other riders preparing their horses. This was it.

With quick movements, I unloaded Phantom and led him to the warm-up area. People were everywhere—trainers shouting instructions, spectators milling about, and the buzz of conversations

creating an atmosphere of excitement. I felt the weight of the crowd's expectations but I pushed it aside, focusing on Phantom. I brushed him down, the rhythmic motion calming both him and me. "Let's

show them what we can do," I said softly, looking into his eyes. He responded with a gentle nicker.

Once Phantom was saddled and ready, I took a moment to adjust my gear, feeling the familiar light weight of the saddle beneath my hands. I had made sure to lose a few pounds to make sure I was lean enough to race and I felt ready. My heart raced in my chest, each beat echoing the pulse of the crowd outside. I tightened the straps, ensuring everything was secure, and stepped back to admire my horse. He was magnificent, a picture of power and grace. "You're going to shine today," I promised him, giving him a gentle pat before slipping on my helmet covered in Stephanie's sky blue silks.

As we made our way to the starting line, energy surged through me like electricity. The cheers from the crowd filled the air and I could see other competitors lining up, their horses pawing at the ground. Mirroring my own anticipation. Adrenaline pumped through my veins, sharpening my focus. The world around me faded as I concentrated on the task ahead. It was Phantom and me against the rest.

We took our place at the starting gates. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears, each beat syncing with the rhythm of the moment. I adjusted my grip on the reins, feeling the horse's power beneath me, and glanced sideways at the other riders. Their eyes were fixed forward, but I was solely focused on Phantom. "Let's do this, buddy," I whispered, leaning forward in the saddle as the countdown began.

The gates opened and we burst forward, surging forward from the starting line, the adrenaline coursing through my veins like wildfire. Phantom felt powerful beneath me, his muscles coiling and uncoiling. The world around us became a blur—spectators cheering, the sound of hoofbeats pounding against the earth, and the intoxicating rush of wind filling my lungs.

But I could feel tension in Phantom's body. He was eager, but I sensed he hadn't quite found his rhythm. As we rounded the first turn, I leaned forward, urging him on. The other horses jostled for position, their riders shouting commands, but Phantom remained steady. I squeezed my legs against his sides, encouraging him to pick up the pace, yet he was still holding back—seemingly unsure of the

chaos around him. The first few minutes felt like an eternity. I could feel my heart sinking as we began to lag behind the pack.

The second turn came and I could see the leading horses pulling ahead. My breath quickened as I fought against the knot of anxiety tightening in my chest. "Come on, Phantom!" I urged him, my

voice barely rising above the noise of the crowd. "We've trained for this! Let's go!"

It wasn't until we hit the third turn that Phantom's true power erupted. Something shifted within him, a spark igniting as he found his stride. Suddenly, he surged forward, his hooves pounding against

the dirt as if he had been holding back all along. I felt a rush of exhilaration as he kicked into a high gear, his muscles flexing and straining with every powerful stride. "That's it! That's it!" I shouted, my voice full of encouragement. With each passing second, we gained ground, darting past horses that had previously been ahead

of us. I could feel the sheer force of his speed, the way he powered through the bend, and I was in awe of how seamlessly we moved as one. The world around us faded into a blur of colors, the cheers of the crowd transforming into a distant roar. Phantom was flying now, and it felt like we were defying gravity.

As we approached the final stretch, the crowd erupted into a deafening cheer, their excitement palpable. I focused ahead, zeroing in on the leading horse, a grey, who was just a few lengths

ahead. My heart raced as I realized we had a chance. I leaned forward, gripping the reins with determination, and whispered, "Let's do this!"

Phantom responded, his stride lengthening as he pushed himself even harder. The finishing line drew closer, the tension in the air electrifying. With every ounce of energy he had left, Phantom thundered toward the finish line. I could feel the sweat on his neck and the determination radiating from his body as he charged ahead. We were neck-and-neck with the grey, and I could see the finish line approaching like a beacon of hope.

But as we crossed the line, I felt a bittersweet ache in my chest. We had given everything, and though we didn't take first place, we had stormed in a close second. I should have got him to raise his gear sooner. I should have done better. I knew Phantom was the fastest horse out there, but I had not been the best for him. Phantom's hooves pounded to a halt and I quickly dismounted, barely able to contain the tears that welled in my eyes. I wrapped my arms around his neck, breathing in the scent of sweat and hay, overwhelmed by a surge of joy and pride.

"You were incredible!" I cried, my voice cracking with emotion. The announcer's voice echoed over the loudspeakers, confirming our second-place finish and a prize of $50,000. I could hardly believe it! It wasn't first, but it was certainly something.

It would give us more time to do more and he had been magnificent. I felt pride burst from me. Tears streamed down my face, a mix of relief and joy washing over me. We had done it. Phantom had proven

himself. The ranch was safe. And in that moment, nothing else mattered.

Surrounded by the chaos of celebrating spectators, I buried my face in Phantom's mane, overwhelmed by the sheer thrill of our performance. We hadn't won, but we had shown the world what we were capable of, which felt like victory enough.