A/N: I just finished reading the new Heartland book 'Beyond the Horizon', and I think anyone else who has read it will know what I'm talking about (even if they don't agree) when I say the ending to that book sucked. Really sucked. I hate it! ugh... So, on with the chapter. I'm not quite happy with how this turned out, but (please!) read it and tell me what you think.

The television was blaring and everyone was squashed onto Lou's small burgundy couch. Amy wasn't really aware of what they were watching. No one was. It was really only on as an excuse for not talking to each other. The funeral had been painful for all of them. It had laid the pain raw again when they had all tried so hard to bury it. No one had even mentioned Amy moving. Grandpa's probably hoping I will have forgotten all about it. As if thinking that had jinxed the silence, Jack suddenly turned to Amy, whom was squashed between him and her sister.

"Amy when we talked on the phone… I was shocked that you would even consider moving in with me. But I do want you to, if you're still willing?" Amy stared at the TV for a few more seconds, then turned to Lou.

"I still want to," she said, feeling slightly bold. Lou paused, then nodded, as if giving her permission. Then the girl turned to her grandfather.

"I still want to," she repeated. He too nodded, then leaned forward to hug her gently.

"I'm glad Amy," he said softly in her ear.

A clicking sounded over the roar of the engine as the wheels of the plane popped out in preparation for landing. The seatbelt sign flashed beside the 'no smoking' sign, but Amy hadn't touched her seatbelt once on the nine hour flight except for a stop at the rest room. She hated to admit it, but flying terrified her.

Beside her sat an elderly lady with brown hair that looked suspiciously artificial on her and thick glasses rested on the bridge if her nose, covering her murky gray eyes. The woman turned to her and smiled.

"So, what's in Virginia for you, sweetie?" she asked. "Home or holidays?"

"Oh, um…home," Amy said. The woman nodded. For almost as long as she could remember, home had been the little white house with the little red barn. Home had meant horses. Home had meant a mother. Where was home now?

"I'm going to my son's wedding. Haven't even met the new girl. But hopefully she's a nice one. The last one wasn't. Terrible manners..." The woman continued talking until they landed, which Amy was thankful for: she hardly noticed the slight jolt. Everyone clapped when the wheels touched the ground, and she clapped along, relived that they hadn't been dumped somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. Jack smiled at her from across the isle as the pilot gave a quick thank you speech.

The airport looked… well, American. Amy wasn't sure why, but everything seemed to scream 'you're in the land of George Bush'. Maybe it was the different accent, or maybe it was just her imagination, or maybe it was the fact that she was indeed in America, but whatever it was Amy did not feel at home.

After grabbing their luggage, Jack called a cab to take them to his place. Their place. Though she had felt ready to drop dead of exhaustion when they had landed, Amy felt very much awake as the cab drove down a dusty driveway. Lining either side of the road were overgrown grassy paddocks with huge trees that provided shade from the sun. This place would be perfect for a horse, Amy thought. That was until she saw the state the barn was in. It looked abandoned. The roof was falling in, and the once white paint was almost all weathered away, revealing a dark red colour beneath. No animal had lived there in the last 2o years, and it would take a lot of fixing up before one ever could again.

The farm house, on the other hand, was in perfect condition. The lawn was short cropped and flowers bloomed in a small garden in front of the house. After paying the driver and getting their stuff from the trunk, Jack led the way to the front door. The inside of the house was just as nice as the outside. The kitchen was well cleaned, and smelled faintly of some sort of disinfectant. The living room was orderly and completely dust free, the furniture arranged around a coffe table and a large television.

"Welcome to your new home," Jack said proudly to Amy, who was just dragging her suitcase through the door. "Let me show you around."

The house turned out to be larger than it looked. The basement was mostly used for storage, though there was one room for guests. The upstairs of the house was one long hallway with four doors, one leading to a washroom. The first room was Jack's; the one across from it was another guest room.

"And this," Jack said, "is your room." He opened the door next to his own room, and allowed Amy to step in. The room, her room, was fairly spacious. Along one wall stood a twin size bed; along the other a solid oak desk. At the back of the room was a large window that overlooked a strip of forest and what might once have been a pasture.

"Do you like it?" Jack asked form the doorway. The girl turned and grinned.

"I love it," she said honestly.

No one had given much thought to school until then. Which wasn't a good thing. The last few days of summer were eaten up in a mad dash of transferring to a new school, selecting courses, buying clothes, adjusting to the time change and buying school supplies all the while trying not to be homesick.

Then the first day of school was upon them. Jack drove Amy that day, but informed her that normally she would have to take the bus. The day started with an assembly where the principal, Mr. Lewis, welcomed them all and talked about respect and responsibility. Then they were sent to their home rooms where the teachers talked for a while. And then it was finally recess. Amy wandered around aimlessly, to shy to approach anyone, and suddenly feeling very aware of her British accent. Finally she sat down on a bench, as to avoide attracting any attention. For some reason she felt embarrassed about not having friends.

"Hey there," a voice said from behind her. Amy craned her neck to see a tall blond girl and was reminded of Laura. "I'm Ashley Grant."

"Amy Flemming," Amy said, rising to her feet.

"Do you want to come hang out with us?" Ashley asked.

"Sure."

'Us' turned out to be a group of seven giggling girls and Ashley. Amy wasn't even introduced, she just followed along and giggled when they did.

"So, Amy, tell us about yourself," Ashley sort of demanded, as if she wanted to make sure that this new girl really was worthy of being part of their little group.

"Well, I live with my Grandfather, and−,"

"Oh you poor thing," Ashley interrupted, and all the girls made ooing sounds of agreement. "My parents are rich and own one of the biggest horse farms in all of Virginia," she went on.

"Really? I used to have a horse in England," Amy said, forgetting her shyness. The blond eyed her suspiciously.

"Well then. Do you want to come over after school? We could go riding in the forest." It sounded more like a challenge than a friendly offer, but Amy really couldn't care less, so long as she got to be around horses again. The other seven girls had gathered in a semi circle around them, as if a fist fight was about to begin.

"I'd love to," Amy said.

The Grant's stable, Green Briar was truly amazing. Stable hands bustled around leading horses or sweeping the already spotless yard. The horses, too, were amazing, well trained animals who's lean muscles rippled beneath their glossy coats. Ashley had called her mother in advance and ordered two horses to be ready for them to ride, so when they walked into the yard a stable hand led a horse up to each of them. The horse Amy was given to ride was a beautiful chestnut Arabian mare with a delicate blaze on her perfectly dished face.

"This is Foxy," the stable hand, dark haired girl not much older than Amy, said. "She can be a little skittish, but Ashley said you'd be fine with that." The blond glared at the stable hand.

"Foxy is perfectly well schooled," she snapped from atop her fancy bay gelding. The dark haired girl just shrugged. Amy gently took the mare's reins, then placed her foot in the stirrup and swung easily into the saddle.

"Ready?" Ashley asked, and headed for the trail before Amy could answer.

As soon as the horses stepped into the forest Ashley's bay was pushed into a strong gallop towards a fallen log.

"Shouldn't we warm them up first?" Amy called as the bay took off over the jump.

"That's what the stable hands are for," came the snappish reply. Amy lined her horse up at the log, counting out the strides, but the mare didn't seem to need any help with distance: She took off at exactly the right spot and soared easily over the obstacle, landed smoothly on the other side and galloped on. Never in her life had Amy ridden such a well schooled horse, she had no clue what the stable hand had been talking about. The mare responded to even the slightest twitch of the reins. But she didn't seem to be enjoying herself as most horses would on such a trail ride, and that made it hard for Amy to enjoy herself.

They continued riding in that manner for nearly three hours, the horses's rhythmical strides never breaking. Finally Ashley, who was still in the lead, brought her gelding to a walk. He was obviously in excellent shape, for he had barely broken a sweat. Foxy, on the other hand, was drenched and her flanks heaved. Amy felt terrible for not having stopped earlier, but the mare hadn't shown signs of tiering until now.

Ashley turned in the saddle.

"You're pretty good," she said. It wasn't praise, but more a sort of bitter acknowledgment. Amy didn't say anything for at that moment she did not feel good at all.

They walked the horses back to the stable, allowing them to catch them to catch their breath. As soon as they clattered into the yard two new stable hands ran forward to grab the horses, as if they had been waiting for the girls to return from their ride.

"Come on Amy," Ashley said, grabbing Amy's sleeve and tugging her along. "I'll show you some real horses."

The Grant's horses were gorgeous. They were all in peak condition and groomed spotless, these ones even more so then the first Amy had seen.

"This," Ashley said proudly, "is Grant's Pride." The horse was a huge dappled gray stallion. He had a strong, yet slender build with a small delicately dished head and large expressive eyes.

"He's our elite stallion. He's sired by Grant's Legend whom my grandfather bred. He's won−," the rant was cut short by a high pitched squealing. Both girls spun to see a pitch black stallion half rearing, fighting the two stable hands that held his head as a third lashed his flank with a longe whip. The stallion's ears were pinned flat against his head as he reared again, flailing hooves narrowly missing the men.

"Oh. That's just Darkness, the nut case of the stable. Never mind him," Ashley half yelled over the noise. Amy glared at her. How could she be so heartless?

"What do you mean, 'never mind him'? They're beating him to death! You can't just stand there and let them do that!" Ashley looked completely taken back.

"Why not? He probably deserves worse. That horse is a menace."

"Well no wonder! That kind of treatment could turn anyone into a menace!" She turned to face the men. "Stop! Stop it you morons! Can't you see you're just winding him up even more?!" The man whipping the horse, a tall red head, spun to glare at her.

"Shut up. You don't−." A black hoof struck his shoulder and he went flying back against the wall. Ashley gave a small dramatic scream that seemed to freak the horse, Darkness, out even more. He rolled his eyes and tried to bolt, half dragging the stable hands along. They finally managed to get him into a stall and bolt the door. From there everything went very fast. An ambulance came and took away the injured red head and Jack picked up Amy. By the time they left everything was in utter chaos. What a great way to start of her new life.

A/N: So she finally made it to Virginia. I really don't like this chapter, but the story had to move on, and I'm hoping Ty will enter in the next chapter. Please review! It's the only thing that keeps me writing.