Second Chance Ranch (SEASON ONE)

Talihina Oklahoma

"This is Henry Tucker. I am not able to reach the phone right now. Feel free to leave a message or call back anytime." His deep, Southern drawl fills the quiet space in the car. I let out a frustrated sigh and hold the phone out in front of me, switching it to speaker.

"Hey, Henry, this is Leah Stone," I begin, trying to keep my tone steady. "We talked on the phone the other night. I just arrived in Talihina this morning and wanted to let you know that I’ll be at the ranch in about an hour—maybe sooner, after I get enrolled in school. I also wanted to thank you for offering to help me out. It means a lot." My voice softens at the last part, and I pause. I’m not used to getting sentimental, but it feels important. “Call me back when you get a chance. Bye.”

I hang up and shove the phone back into my pocket, trying not to feel stupid for how awkward that message sounded.

“Come along, Leah. We’re ready for you now,” Rachel’s voice interrupts my thoughts. I glance up to see her standing at the entrance of the school’s main office, smiling warmly. Rachel’s tall and strikingly beautiful, with long dark hair tied neatly in a low ponytail. She’s in her mid-thirties, with a sort of effortless grace that makes her seem older and wiser than she probably is. Her kind eyes and welcoming nature were the reasons I was able to get this help from Mr. Tucker in the first place.

I nod and follow her into the building, trying to ignore the tightening in my chest. I’m not exactly looking forward to being surrounded by eager school officials ready to make my life easy.

Inside, we’re greeted by a man standing near his desk. "Welcome, Ms. Stone. I’m Principal Murphy. It’s nice to meet you," he says, holding out a thick hand for me to shake. The man is tall and broad-shouldered, with barely any neck. His full beard and moustache hide most of his face, making his eyes stand out even more—sharp and observant, though softened by a smile. His office smells faintly of leather and old books, and I notice the walls are covered with colorful pictures and drawings, clearly the handiwork of children.

"Thanks," I say, scanning the room. My eyes land on a framed photo on his desk—a family of four, all smiles and joy. They look so happy, so together. For a moment, something tightens in my chest. That was me, once. I had it all—good grades, a clean slate, and a perfect little life. I look away, not wanting to dwell on it.

"Leah?" Rachel’s voice pulls me back.

"Yeah?" I ask, turning toward her.

"Would you mind signing this?" Principal Murphy asks, holding out a piece of paper. He’s watching me, still smiling, though I can’t help but feel like he sees more than he lets on.

I step forward and take the paper from him, quickly scrawling my name in my usual messy cursive. "Thanks," he says, looking down at my signature before meeting my eyes again. "You’ll be able to start school on Monday morning."

"Thanks," I say again, already backing toward the door. I’m eager to get out of here.

Rachel follows me out into the parking lot, her heels clicking softly against the pavement. I stop beside the door of my old, beat-up Chevy, the familiar rusted handle cold beneath my palm. "Are you okay?" Rachel asks, her voice gentle. She’s watching me closely now, her brows knitted with concern.

"I’m fine," I say, a little too quickly. I realize how sharp I sound and wince inwardly. "Are you going to follow me to the ranch?" I ask, softer this time, but still guarded.

Rachel hesitates, her lips parting as if she’s about to say something, but she stops herself. "No," she finally says, her voice quiet.

I nod and yank the car door open, the hinges groaning in protest. I slide into the driver’s seat and slam the door shut, the sound echoing through the empty lot. As the engine roars to life, I steal one last glance at Rachel standing there, her arms wrapped around herself as if she’s trying to hold something together. I grip the steering wheel tightly and pull out of the lot, heading down the road that will take me to the ranch—a place I’m not sure I’m ready to face.