Page 1 of Untamed Hearts

PROLOGUE

STEPHANIE

The second you said “yes,” I think part of me knew that you were different. Not because of the way you said it, nor the fact that you said it at all . . . but because of my reaction to it. I’m an organized person, with a plan for every plan, wrapped within another plan. So having every single thought leave my head was a new experience for me.

A date. Where would I take you? What could we do? Where would we go? I felt like all I needed was to be in your company, and then surely the world would spin the other way. But actually, no plan of mine seemed worthy of your time. So I googled, read blogs, and tried to picture our ideal first date. Unfortunately, every scene I imagined seemed to lack what I craved the most: unfiltered, uninterrupted time with you. Simplicity was the only way I could see forward until I had a terrible thought: what if you didn’t feel the same?

It had been so long since I had even considered letting anyone in in that way.

But you had said, “Yes.” Still, I was afraid to really be seen by you. I knew that going with you to the movies, having a drink at the bar, or eating dinner in a crowded room would give me the space to fade into the background. It would offer me a protection that something simpler wouldn’t—although being one-on-one would give me unfiltered access to you.

But if I arranged things that way, you would have that much of me as well. Could I take the rejection? I wondered. And yet, could I live without giving myself that chance?As my fingertips smoothed out the edges of my worn, checkered blanket, I marvelled at the feel of the new, spring grass beneath them. I realized that my heart had decided the answer. Asking so many questions was not the way of the heart, but was instead the result of a planner’s mind in overdrive. What if you couldn’t find the place? I had asked myself. What if you didn’t like the food I’d brought? What if the ice cream melted? What if my skirt split from sitting on the floor? What if it rained? What if we ran out of things to say? What if I was suddenly awkward, or could only whisper? What if you didn’t want to kiss me? But what if . . . you did?

These questions were countered by happy dreams about how things might go. I call those thoughts about you my “wonders.” For example, I wondered how you’d smile when you first found me and the picnic I’d set out for you. I wondered how your head might tip when I fed you a strawberry. I wondered how melted ice cream tasted from your fingers and I wondered how you’d touch the split of my skirt—right up the inside of my thighs? I wondered how rain on my blushing cheeks would feel. I wondered how I’d breathe in the silence as you looked at me, and how you might smile at my awkwardness. I wondered how you’d smell when you leaned in toward me. And most of all, I wondered how your kiss would feel on my lips.

Questions and wonders became . . . my story of you.

1

STEPHANIE

Isat 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.

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