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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.
21
STEPHANIE
They had crossed the finish line in a blur and I could see the numbers flashing—second place.
It wasn’t the victory we had hoped for, but it was still a remarkable achievement. I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I took in the scene. They had given it everything they had and Ashlyn was on her knees, tears of joy streaming down her face as she embraced Phantom.
I rushed forward, my heart swelling with pride and relief. “You did it, Ashlyn! You were amazing!” I cried, wrapping my arms around her and Phantom. As she buried her face in Phantom’s mane, I felt a rush of gratitude wash over me. They had brought us back from the brink. Even though we didn’t take first place, the $50,000 prize would make a world of difference. We could save the ranch. In that moment, as I held Ashlyn close, I realized how deeply I loved her and how much she meant to me.
Despite the challenges we faced, I knew we were stronger together. Ashlyn had fought through her fears and I had watched her transform into the incredible rider I always knew she could be. And as we stood there, surrounded by the chaos of celebration, I couldn’t help but feel that this was just the beginning of something extraordinary.
I pulled Ashlyn close, feeling the warmth radiating from her body as we kissed, our hearts soaring with the thrill of the race. The world around us faded and for a moment, it was just the two of us, basking in the joy of our hard-fought success. I could feel the weight of the past few weeks lift off my shoulders. All that mattered now was the love I felt for her.
But then I felt Ashlyn stiffen in my arms, her body tensing as if a chill had swept through the air. I pulled back slightly, searching her face for the source of her sudden change. That’s when I noticed the woman approaching us, her expression a mix of smugness and disdain.
“Good race, Ashlyn,” she sneered, her tone dripping with sarcasm. I could sense the ice in the air, and how Ashlyn’s mood had shifted from elation to something darker. The warmth we had just shared
felt like a distant memory as tension crackled between us.
“Thanks,” Ashlyn replied coolly, her voice barely above a whisper, her gaze locked onto the woman as if she were sizing her up. I could see the flicker of defiance in her eyes, but there was also an undercurrent of fear there that made my heart ache for her.
“What are you doing here?” Ashlyn’s words were sharp, cutting through the celebratory atmosphere like a knife. I felt a surge of protectiveness wash over me, wanting to shield Ashlyn from whatever this woman represented.
“Oh, I just came to congratulate you on your little win,” the woman replied, her smirk widening. “Well, second place, wasn’t it?”
The words hung in the air like heavy fog, and I could see Ashlyn’s expression harden.
