Kamwulfe Publishing
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Muddy Waters- Chapter 1
…I am no more than a novice. I hold no formal training, no background in such matters, and no rights for what I attempt. I
have only a story in my heart, a message in my soul, and a burning passion on my lips to express what I have witnessed –
what I have felt.
Some mornings, I am not sure who I am. Most mornings I cannot remember what I must accomplish, before I once again, rest for
the evening. And with each passing day, it becomes harder to continue this path – alone – without her.
Without exception, everyday you will find me in the barn long before the sun signals yet another day on the ranch. And, on any
given day, I must say, I am a real fashion statement, and this morning, is no exception. My usual dress code is old faded blue jeans
with a hole or two that marks the passage of time, a tee shirt sun bleached of its natural color, an old cotton shirt from the local
thrift store, cowboy boots and a pair of leather gloves sticking out the back of my pocket. But all in all, it sure beats the suit and tie
era of my life that cost me so dearly in the broken heart department.
Not much has changed in the last thirty years since I left the corporate rat race. I now find predictability a virtue rather than a
curse. And hell, the horses don’t seem to mind what I wear as long as breakfast is delivered on a timely schedule with a smile and
a few kind words.
My daily existence is not difficult to explain or hard to accept or even justify these days. I have made choices that sent ripples
through the electronic media industry on any given day. I realized in due course of performing my simple and somewhat thankless
task there is life outside the corporate world. And, we are not doomed to spend a lifetime in pursuit of the all mighty dollar while
making another self-promoting corporation even richer and more cynical – if that is at all possible.
Some would deem this story, this body of work, a tragedy tempered with fleeting moments of romance. I on the other hand would
disagree and simply reverse those terms. Now for the end, no matter how you choose to label its conclusion, it was a life chosen
out of careful thought, dedication to others, and governed by the enduring spirit of freedom and emotions of the heart. To say I did
it my way is an understatement. To imply, that if I could, I would do it all different the second time around would be a canard. No, I
have chosen my fate with cold, calculated factual planning and it was “one hell of a ride”.
Time is something we all take for granted in our youth and of course why not because when we are young we are blessed with an
endless supply of this precious commodity. As young people, we have all the time in the world to make our decisions, but when it is
close to the end, time itself can be the greatest thief of all.
My life is all but over now. I sit inside a shell of the man I once was and I will leave this earth shortly knowing in my heart I loved
many wonderful women. Yet I loved two with such passion and conviction, such admiration and purpose, although I never
understood the true meaning of love until I held my daughter in my arms. I believe fathers around the world would agree, there is
nothing so powerful as the love of a child, and for a man, there is nothing that can compare to the overwhelming love we have for
our daughters.
In the beginning, life comes at an unrealistic speed, much as a windstorm or a seasoned three-year-old racehorse running strong
in his prime. As we grow older life slows and takes on a new image – an image filled with obvious choices supported by solid
reasons far to important to simply dismiss as youthful endeavors. Then at some point, we begin the process of slowing down –
maturation and realization - that immortality has passed us by on its journey to the abyss. That young and handsome racehorse
once strong and proud begins losing a step at first then another and another. Slowly the process begins to change; this once
handsome creature is transformed into just another middle-aged draft horse with long hours dedicated to pulling the wagon – the
wagon of life. His well-manicured coat is a little darker now – his headstrong ways have faded into acceptance. His desire to win at
any costs is now replaced with the search for companionship and eternal acceptance. Although the internal spirit remains ever
bright, not diminished by years of broken dreams, it is no longer driven by youthful indiscretions so pervasive in the life and times
of we humans.
The big clock in the study now signals 05:30, time to cast aside yet another night of sweet dreams and warm thoughts of love that
establishes the foundation in which we continue along the road of life. When the big ugly alarm signals it is once again time, time to
rise and begin another day filled with hope and the joys of life itself. My old bones tell a story of the residual effects of hard manual
work on the ranch. Caring for my family – my horses, my collies and those people I call my children and my friends. It is a good
life. Not a great life shared with another human, but a life filled with love and affection for those who understand the essence of
“Pure Love” may be far better than we humans.
This morning is no different than all others; I walk slowly to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Decaffeinated coffee now, since my last
heart attack my Doctors have forbidden me to consume any caffeine, sugar, fats and simple complex carbohydrates massed
produced by the corporate machines. In other words, if it tastes good – you cannot eat it. So I must flavor my brown mud drink of
no taste with homegrown raw honey and sweet un-pasteurized, raw cows milk. Sometimes, I do cheat a little.
Taking a moment to gather my senses after a night of pleasant dreams, I sit quietly gazing out the door towards the southwestern
pasture. It is my favorite. I find indescribable beauty in the grasses flexing in the early morning trade winds and the rolling hills that
still carry the evening’s dew. The sun continues to rest from the last night’s affair and will do so for at least another thirty minutes
before it begins its ascent into the eastern sky thus signaling another day on the ranch. I receive a little nudge from Cassie, my
female collie, twenty minutes is plenty enough time to sit and reflect on life in her opinion, now it is time to begin the planning
process for this day’s events and chores.
With my second cup of flavored muddy water in my hand, I open the door and with my two collies beside me, we begin the long slow
walk to the barn where the only true family I have known is happy to see me again. The morning’s walk is a celebration of life on a
ranch; it’s a good life, a life filled with simple pleasures and rewards. We work hard, we eat well and we sleep like babies, a far cry
from my days in the big city broadcast business where every night was filled with anxiety and uncertainty of tomorrow.
The sun is gaining strength as it begins to emerge from the horizon. The eastern sky is filled with mother natures earth tone colors
and reflections from the land. The birds begin their morning serenade of life and the crickets and the frogs, well, they now pass the
torch of security. Having completed their tour of duty working the night shift at the ranch, we can only say, thank you ladies &
gentlemen for another job well done.
Each morning when I reach the barn door, I am greeted with nickers from my friends. They are either happy to see my face or they
are hungry from the nights activities, which, I have not drawn an acceptable conclusion to as of yet. As I look down the line, I see
all my boys standing in a row waiting for the verbal command of, ”Go In Your Rooms” for breakfast fellows. Then, as if they
understood my request, they disperse to their individually assigned stalls and patiently wait for the morning meal to be served.
Now my girls, oh boy, they are different. They are extremely vocal and constantly whinny from the safely of their rooms. They are
stalled or locked in nightly for several reasons, but mostly so as not to encourage nighttime activities not becoming to young ladies
of the Equus species. And, over the years I have learned they prefer to be in a comfortable room they can call their own.
As they finish their breakfast, the gates to the pastures are opened. Individually they begin to move out into their assigned sectors
for grazing. Depending on their weight and medical condition, they are placed in the appropriate pasture where the grass size,
texture, and protein content is consistent with the doctors’ recommendations. With horses, colic and founder is a major concern
and requires daily evaluation to insure no problems occur, so we control their intake of fresh green grass and try to counter
balance that with sufficient daily exercise.
But there is one horse, one old mare, one special girl who seems to wait until all the other horses have departed before she
moves. When all the other boys and girls have dispersed, she then walks over to the gate then stops, slowly she turns her head
and looks back as if to say – “Thank You” for breakfast. “And will you be here all day so I can see you?” I nod to her as if to say,
yes my dear I will, then she walks slowly out into her pasture. Her name is Lady Ashley. She is my oldest and most-dearest mare,
and she was Terri’s favorite so she is something very special to me and will remain so until the end of our time on earth.
When the morning chores are completed, it is now time to sit and reflect on what might have been – or what may be some day –
nice words for I take a short break. I walk out of the barn and up the cobble stone sidewalk to the porch and take my place on The
Park Bench. It is a wooden replica of a bench I saw in New York’s Central Park a long time ago when I wore a younger mans’
clothes and carried far different images in my mind. It is nothing special, I made it out of oak and inlayed the seat and back rest
with natural cherry, mainly because it reminds me of a life long since past. A life when I was someone very different, a life that
brings back memories of my beloved Terri King and my time spent in various big cities while working in the broadcasting industry.
We spent many an evening sharing a cup of coffee and talking about nothing while sitting on that park bench. But this bench has
also been a good resting place that holds so many memories, a place where lovers will sit and a seat for precisely these days. And
now, it is a place where I rest and reflect and a place to consume the majority of my days as I approach the end of my time.
That old bench holds volumes of memories and thoughts of all the new tomorrows that followed it. For you see, we sat on this
bench the last time she visited me. We shared our thoughts and made each other a promise. A promise to “never forget what we
had and always keep a light in our hearts for what may be if the winds of change begin to blow again.”
But with the passage of time, I now realize the odds are stacked against me. I realize they are growing exponentially with every
passing month and subsequently, every year. Nevertheless, hope is eternal and true love is a powerful thing and with a little help
from above, I still believe the day will come when she drives into the ranch, steps out of her carriage and walks back into my life.
And then, all my dreams will have come true.
And yet, I know this one simple statement is only one of so many gestures of the enduring spirit, and only one element of my life’s
story. If I should leave this earth tonight, I will consider my time, my life and my journey into old age a most wonderful experience,
because I have been truly blessed. I have loved two woman with every fiber of my being – with every beat of my heart and every
ounce of my spirit – for you see one night - I touched their souls and we became one if only for a moment.
They are two women who are so beautiful, so caring, and so kind that every time I looked at them, they took my breath away. I may
not hold the first one ever again. I may never touch her face as I once did before. I may never hear her voice, or feel the warmth of
her body, but I know I will see her again in a place we call heaven. And for the second one, well, she is and always will remain a
part of me and that I am certain, because the eternal love a man holds for his daughter, whether biological or adopted, is the most
sacred and rewarding gift a father can give. “I may not have brought her into this world, but I will leave with her name on my lips and
her memory deeply embedded in my spirit. For only a daughter can touch a father’s soul with such passion and resolve and only a
daughter can ease his pain when life itself comes – full circle.” With God as my witness – I know this in my heart; it must be so, for
it has been my foundation through life.
We humans are a funny lot of creatures, a strange breed, a mixture of complex emotions and faults and yet we are unique in so
many regards. We hold dear two simple elements: fear of loss and hope of gain. In loss, we overcome grief with reassuring
thoughts and the knowledge that the pain will fade someday and what remains are – our memories. Now for hope, without it we are
lost. Much as a ship at sea, void of it rudder; we become an object subjected to the trade winds, controlled by the currents, and
our fate is left to the mercy of nature.
So today and everyday I remain ever vigilant, focused, patient and confident. I believe in the enduring spirit and the power of
hope, the sanctity of marriage, deeply eternal love, and a warm soul. For I know in my heart that some day, and maybe even
today, all my dreams will finally come true, and my lovely Terri will come back into my life. Or will there come a time when another
will capture my heart as no other can or has since the beginning.
A poet would make much of hope, its sadness, its pleasures and its enduring spirit. And yet for some it is the only remaining
element left in a life filled with such joys and minor successes. With that I am once again reminded, at the end of Aesops fables he
warns: “Beware lest you lose the substance by grasping at the shadows”.
…I am no more than a novice. I hold no formal training, no background in such matters, and no rights for what I attempt. I
have only a story in my heart, a message in my soul, and a burning passion on my lips to express what I have witnessed –
what I have felt.
Some mornings, I am not sure who I am. Most mornings I cannot remember what I must accomplish, before I once again, rest for
the evening. And with each passing day, it becomes harder to continue this path – alone – without her.
Without exception, everyday you will find me in the barn long before the sun signals yet another day on the ranch. And, on any
given day, I must say, I am a real fashion statement, and this morning, is no exception. My usual dress code is old faded blue jeans
with a hole or two that marks the passage of time, a tee shirt sun bleached of its natural color, an old cotton shirt from the local
thrift store, cowboy boots and a pair of leather gloves sticking out the back of my pocket. But all in all, it sure beats the suit and tie
era of my life that cost me so dearly in the broken heart department.
Not much has changed in the last thirty years since I left the corporate rat race. I now find predictability a virtue rather than a
curse. And hell, the horses don’t seem to mind what I wear as long as breakfast is delivered on a timely schedule with a smile and
a few kind words.
My daily existence is not difficult to explain or hard to accept or even justify these days. I have made choices that sent ripples
through the electronic media industry on any given day. I realized in due course of performing my simple and somewhat thankless
task there is life outside the corporate world. And, we are not doomed to spend a lifetime in pursuit of the all mighty dollar while
making another self-promoting corporation even richer and more cynical – if that is at all possible.
Some would deem this story, this body of work, a tragedy tempered with fleeting moments of romance. I on the other hand would
disagree and simply reverse those terms. Now for the end, no matter how you choose to label its conclusion, it was a life chosen
out of careful thought, dedication to others, and governed by the enduring spirit of freedom and emotions of the heart. To say I did
it my way is an understatement. To imply, that if I could, I would do it all different the second time around would be a canard. No, I
have chosen my fate with cold, calculated factual planning and it was “one hell of a ride”.
Time is something we all take for granted in our youth and of course why not because when we are young we are blessed with an
endless supply of this precious commodity. As young people, we have all the time in the world to make our decisions, but when it is
close to the end, time itself can be the greatest thief of all.
My life is all but over now. I sit inside a shell of the man I once was and I will leave this earth shortly knowing in my heart I loved
many wonderful women. Yet I loved two with such passion and conviction, such admiration and purpose, although I never
understood the true meaning of love until I held my daughter in my arms. I believe fathers around the world would agree, there is
nothing so powerful as the love of a child, and for a man, there is nothing that can compare to the overwhelming love we have for
our daughters.
In the beginning, life comes at an unrealistic speed, much as a windstorm or a seasoned three-year-old racehorse running strong
in his prime. As we grow older life slows and takes on a new image – an image filled with obvious choices supported by solid
reasons far to important to simply dismiss as youthful endeavors. Then at some point, we begin the process of slowing down –
maturation and realization - that immortality has passed us by on its journey to the abyss. That young and handsome racehorse
once strong and proud begins losing a step at first then another and another. Slowly the process begins to change; this once
handsome creature is transformed into just another middle-aged draft horse with long hours dedicated to pulling the wagon – the
wagon of life. His well-manicured coat is a little darker now – his headstrong ways have faded into acceptance. His desire to win at
any costs is now replaced with the search for companionship and eternal acceptance. Although the internal spirit remains ever
bright, not diminished by years of broken dreams, it is no longer driven by youthful indiscretions so pervasive in the life and times
of we humans.
The big clock in the study now signals 05:30, time to cast aside yet another night of sweet dreams and warm thoughts of love that
establishes the foundation in which we continue along the road of life. When the big ugly alarm signals it is once again time, time to
rise and begin another day filled with hope and the joys of life itself. My old bones tell a story of the residual effects of hard manual
work on the ranch. Caring for my family – my horses, my collies and those people I call my children and my friends. It is a good
life. Not a great life shared with another human, but a life filled with love and affection for those who understand the essence of
“Pure Love” may be far better than we humans.
This morning is no different than all others; I walk slowly to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Decaffeinated coffee now, since my last
heart attack my Doctors have forbidden me to consume any caffeine, sugar, fats and simple complex carbohydrates massed
produced by the corporate machines. In other words, if it tastes good – you cannot eat it. So I must flavor my brown mud drink of
no taste with homegrown raw honey and sweet un-pasteurized, raw cows milk. Sometimes, I do cheat a little.
Taking a moment to gather my senses after a night of pleasant dreams, I sit quietly gazing out the door towards the southwestern
pasture. It is my favorite. I find indescribable beauty in the grasses flexing in the early morning trade winds and the rolling hills that
still carry the evening’s dew. The sun continues to rest from the last night’s affair and will do so for at least another thirty minutes
before it begins its ascent into the eastern sky thus signaling another day on the ranch. I receive a little nudge from Cassie, my
female collie, twenty minutes is plenty enough time to sit and reflect on life in her opinion, now it is time to begin the planning
process for this day’s events and chores.
With my second cup of flavored muddy water in my hand, I open the door and with my two collies beside me, we begin the long slow
walk to the barn where the only true family I have known is happy to see me again. The morning’s walk is a celebration of life on a
ranch; it’s a good life, a life filled with simple pleasures and rewards. We work hard, we eat well and we sleep like babies, a far cry
from my days in the big city broadcast business where every night was filled with anxiety and uncertainty of tomorrow.
The sun is gaining strength as it begins to emerge from the horizon. The eastern sky is filled with mother natures earth tone colors
and reflections from the land. The birds begin their morning serenade of life and the crickets and the frogs, well, they now pass the
torch of security. Having completed their tour of duty working the night shift at the ranch, we can only say, thank you ladies &
gentlemen for another job well done.
Each morning when I reach the barn door, I am greeted with nickers from my friends. They are either happy to see my face or they
are hungry from the nights activities, which, I have not drawn an acceptable conclusion to as of yet. As I look down the line, I see
all my boys standing in a row waiting for the verbal command of, ”Go In Your Rooms” for breakfast fellows. Then, as if they
understood my request, they disperse to their individually assigned stalls and patiently wait for the morning meal to be served.
Now my girls, oh boy, they are different. They are extremely vocal and constantly whinny from the safely of their rooms. They are
stalled or locked in nightly for several reasons, but mostly so as not to encourage nighttime activities not becoming to young ladies
of the Equus species. And, over the years I have learned they prefer to be in a comfortable room they can call their own.
As they finish their breakfast, the gates to the pastures are opened. Individually they begin to move out into their assigned sectors
for grazing. Depending on their weight and medical condition, they are placed in the appropriate pasture where the grass size,
texture, and protein content is consistent with the doctors’ recommendations. With horses, colic and founder is a major concern
and requires daily evaluation to insure no problems occur, so we control their intake of fresh green grass and try to counter
balance that with sufficient daily exercise.
But there is one horse, one old mare, one special girl who seems to wait until all the other horses have departed before she
moves. When all the other boys and girls have dispersed, she then walks over to the gate then stops, slowly she turns her head
and looks back as if to say – “Thank You” for breakfast. “And will you be here all day so I can see you?” I nod to her as if to say,
yes my dear I will, then she walks slowly out into her pasture. Her name is Lady Ashley. She is my oldest and most-dearest mare,
and she was Terri’s favorite so she is something very special to me and will remain so until the end of our time on earth.
When the morning chores are completed, it is now time to sit and reflect on what might have been – or what may be some day –
nice words for I take a short break. I walk out of the barn and up the cobble stone sidewalk to the porch and take my place on The
Park Bench. It is a wooden replica of a bench I saw in New York’s Central Park a long time ago when I wore a younger mans’
clothes and carried far different images in my mind. It is nothing special, I made it out of oak and inlayed the seat and back rest
with natural cherry, mainly because it reminds me of a life long since past. A life when I was someone very different, a life that
brings back memories of my beloved Terri King and my time spent in various big cities while working in the broadcasting industry.
We spent many an evening sharing a cup of coffee and talking about nothing while sitting on that park bench. But this bench has
also been a good resting place that holds so many memories, a place where lovers will sit and a seat for precisely these days. And
now, it is a place where I rest and reflect and a place to consume the majority of my days as I approach the end of my time.
That old bench holds volumes of memories and thoughts of all the new tomorrows that followed it. For you see, we sat on this
bench the last time she visited me. We shared our thoughts and made each other a promise. A promise to “never forget what we
had and always keep a light in our hearts for what may be if the winds of change begin to blow again.”
But with the passage of time, I now realize the odds are stacked against me. I realize they are growing exponentially with every
passing month and subsequently, every year. Nevertheless, hope is eternal and true love is a powerful thing and with a little help
from above, I still believe the day will come when she drives into the ranch, steps out of her carriage and walks back into my life.
And then, all my dreams will have come true.
And yet, I know this one simple statement is only one of so many gestures of the enduring spirit, and only one element of my life’s
story. If I should leave this earth tonight, I will consider my time, my life and my journey into old age a most wonderful experience,
because I have been truly blessed. I have loved two woman with every fiber of my being – with every beat of my heart and every
ounce of my spirit – for you see one night - I touched their souls and we became one if only for a moment.
They are two women who are so beautiful, so caring, and so kind that every time I looked at them, they took my breath away. I may
not hold the first one ever again. I may never touch her face as I once did before. I may never hear her voice, or feel the warmth of
her body, but I know I will see her again in a place we call heaven. And for the second one, well, she is and always will remain a
part of me and that I am certain, because the eternal love a man holds for his daughter, whether biological or adopted, is the most
sacred and rewarding gift a father can give. “I may not have brought her into this world, but I will leave with her name on my lips and
her memory deeply embedded in my spirit. For only a daughter can touch a father’s soul with such passion and resolve and only a
daughter can ease his pain when life itself comes – full circle.” With God as my witness – I know this in my heart; it must be so, for
it has been my foundation through life.
We humans are a funny lot of creatures, a strange breed, a mixture of complex emotions and faults and yet we are unique in so
many regards. We hold dear two simple elements: fear of loss and hope of gain. In loss, we overcome grief with reassuring
thoughts and the knowledge that the pain will fade someday and what remains are – our memories. Now for hope, without it we are
lost. Much as a ship at sea, void of it rudder; we become an object subjected to the trade winds, controlled by the currents, and
our fate is left to the mercy of nature.
So today and everyday I remain ever vigilant, focused, patient and confident. I believe in the enduring spirit and the power of
hope, the sanctity of marriage, deeply eternal love, and a warm soul. For I know in my heart that some day, and maybe even
today, all my dreams will finally come true, and my lovely Terri will come back into my life. Or will there come a time when another
will capture my heart as no other can or has since the beginning.
A poet would make much of hope, its sadness, its pleasures and its enduring spirit. And yet for some it is the only remaining
element left in a life filled with such joys and minor successes. With that I am once again reminded, at the end of Aesops fables he
warns: “Beware lest you lose the substance by grasping at the shadows”.
Synopsis for – Unsettled Mirrors
A powerful story of second chances and hearts in motion that
follows an old man’s (Shawn McVeigh) life from college to the
gates of heaven. With the passage of time, he becomes
spiritually exhausted and physically depleted after a brilliant yet
unfulfilled career as a broadcast television network executive.
As his career nears the end, McVeigh finally admits, he can no
longer continue down a path void of passion and absent of
scruples. Against all odds and better judgment, McVeigh walks
away from his prestigious position and financial security to
return to his childhood home in east-central California.
Although, still carrying strong emotional and passionate
feelings scattered over years of broken dreams for his only
true love in life (Terri King), McVeigh sets out to follow a
childhood dream of converting the family ranch into a
sanctuary for the old and unwanted from both species. One
morning while at the local feed mill, McVeigh comes to the
rescue of a young Spanish child (Sandra Moncatta) who was in
need of protection from a mob of local redneck boys. Two
weeks later, young Sandra walks five miles to speak to the old
man at his ranch when she asks for an opportunity, a job so
she may learn about horses and their infectious ways.
Impressed with her moxie and captivated by her tenacity,
young Sandra is hired as a trainee and begins the task of
learning the ways of the horse whisper as she captures an old
man’s heart. As fate would have it, years later Sandra’s
Mother (Deloris Moncatta) succumbs to adrenal cancer, but
before she passes away she asks McVeigh to adopt her only
daughter and care for her as if she was his own child. As time
passes, Sandra begins college and meets a young man of
exceptional honor (Denny O’Brien) and romance blossoms with
such passion and honesty – it was spontaneous combustion at
hello. When Sandra marries the now Marine Fighter Pilot
Lieutenant O’Brien, McVeigh’s old heart is once again broken
with the impending loss of his only daughter and the little girl
who captured his old heart so many years before. Then from
out of the misty blue fog, a young child (Marisol Garcia), who
lives in silence, comes to the ranch seeking no more than an
equal opportunity to prove herself and her merits. In a mere
blink of an eye, she begins her journey through life, a life that
touches the souls of all those who called Kamwulfe Ranch &
Sanctuary their final home. With time running out for the old
man, decisions are made and events are set in motion that will
insure the existence of the ranch & sanctuary for another one
hundred years. As the end approaches, a new love (Katrina
Ryan) comes into McVeigh’s life and makes his final years and
painful transition to the next place a simple journey, because
his old heart is once again pure and his final mission in this life
is now completed with honor and resolve.
A powerful story of second chances and hearts in motion that
follows an old man’s (Shawn McVeigh) life from college to the
gates of heaven. With the passage of time, he becomes
spiritually exhausted and physically depleted after a brilliant yet
unfulfilled career as a broadcast television network executive.
As his career nears the end, McVeigh finally admits, he can no
longer continue down a path void of passion and absent of
scruples. Against all odds and better judgment, McVeigh walks
away from his prestigious position and financial security to
return to his childhood home in east-central California.
Although, still carrying strong emotional and passionate
feelings scattered over years of broken dreams for his only
true love in life (Terri King), McVeigh sets out to follow a
childhood dream of converting the family ranch into a
sanctuary for the old and unwanted from both species. One
morning while at the local feed mill, McVeigh comes to the
rescue of a young Spanish child (Sandra Moncatta) who was in
need of protection from a mob of local redneck boys. Two
weeks later, young Sandra walks five miles to speak to the old
man at his ranch when she asks for an opportunity, a job so
she may learn about horses and their infectious ways.
Impressed with her moxie and captivated by her tenacity,
young Sandra is hired as a trainee and begins the task of
learning the ways of the horse whisper as she captures an old
man’s heart. As fate would have it, years later Sandra’s
Mother (Deloris Moncatta) succumbs to adrenal cancer, but
before she passes away she asks McVeigh to adopt her only
daughter and care for her as if she was his own child. As time
passes, Sandra begins college and meets a young man of
exceptional honor (Denny O’Brien) and romance blossoms with
such passion and honesty – it was spontaneous combustion at
hello. When Sandra marries the now Marine Fighter Pilot
Lieutenant O’Brien, McVeigh’s old heart is once again broken
with the impending loss of his only daughter and the little girl
who captured his old heart so many years before. Then from
out of the misty blue fog, a young child (Marisol Garcia), who
lives in silence, comes to the ranch seeking no more than an
equal opportunity to prove herself and her merits. In a mere
blink of an eye, she begins her journey through life, a life that
touches the souls of all those who called Kamwulfe Ranch &
Sanctuary their final home. With time running out for the old
man, decisions are made and events are set in motion that will
insure the existence of the ranch & sanctuary for another one
hundred years. As the end approaches, a new love (Katrina
Ryan) comes into McVeigh’s life and makes his final years and
painful transition to the next place a simple journey, because
his old heart is once again pure and his final mission in this life
is now completed with honor and resolve.
Unsettled Mirrors
Unsettled Mirrors: Inside The Book Cover
A man sitting on a bench over looking the southern pasture,
A woman disparately seeks the words to explain her life of
broken dreams.
A young child living in silence struggles for acceptance and is
in need of a friend.
A young woman with her entire life ahead of her welcomes
every tomorrow.
Unsettled Mirrors is an emotional novel about time and
change, how one man was given another opportunity to love a
woman with all his heart until the end of his time.
Set in the foothills of Central California in 1985, Unsettled
Mirrors begins with Shawn McVeigh ending his career with a
major television network, to return to his childhood home.
Shawn, forty-two, is converting his six-thousand acre ranch
into a sanctuary for old and unwanted horses, and he now
carries only memories of the stunning young woman he met
fifteen years before and fell in love with from the moment he
first saw her. Unwilling to forget her and yet, finding peace in
knowing he will never love another with such conviction and
resolve. Shawn is now content to carry her memories and
tend to his horses until Sandra walked into his barn one
morning and asked if she might have a word with him.
Sandra Moncatta, a nine-year-old Spanish girl, who was
struggling to find her way in a world full of indifference and
racial intolerance. One afternoon Shawn walked into her world
and became her protector, her Knight in Shinning Amour. As
their friendship unfolds and trust begins to emerge, Shawn is
presented with a decision. Her mother is dying of cancer and
asked him to adopt her daughter when she finally passes
away. The inter-cultural differences, the complexities of life at
the ranch and his undying love for this child present a far
different challenge for this man who buried his emotions a
long time ago.
Much as a complex mathematical problem, there are several
solutions that begin to unfold, the father & daughter
relationship blossoms, they become inseparable until Sandra
leaves for college. Struggling to accept the loneliness left in
his soul, he befriends another young child who lives in silence
and she becomes his hope for a better tomorrow.
The result is a loving family was formed out of tolerance,
respect and acceptance, with tender and emotional moments
centered around the sanctuary, how three humans finally
understood what these big creatures new from the beginning
– the power of a soft voice and a gentle touch can indeed,
work miracles.
Unsettled Mirrors is a rare bird, a break through in traditional
thinking, for it over comes racial indifferences and cultural
boundaries to lay the foundation for acceptance and the final
years of the life of Shawn McVeigh, a life now filled with the
love and devotion of three young women he affectionately
calls - his daughters. What a wonderful world this is when all
your dreams come true. This novel is complete at 83,597
words.
A man sitting on a bench over looking the southern pasture,
A woman disparately seeks the words to explain her life of
broken dreams.
A young child living in silence struggles for acceptance and is
in need of a friend.
A young woman with her entire life ahead of her welcomes
every tomorrow.
Unsettled Mirrors is an emotional novel about time and
change, how one man was given another opportunity to love a
woman with all his heart until the end of his time.
Set in the foothills of Central California in 1985, Unsettled
Mirrors begins with Shawn McVeigh ending his career with a
major television network, to return to his childhood home.
Shawn, forty-two, is converting his six-thousand acre ranch
into a sanctuary for old and unwanted horses, and he now
carries only memories of the stunning young woman he met
fifteen years before and fell in love with from the moment he
first saw her. Unwilling to forget her and yet, finding peace in
knowing he will never love another with such conviction and
resolve. Shawn is now content to carry her memories and
tend to his horses until Sandra walked into his barn one
morning and asked if she might have a word with him.
Sandra Moncatta, a nine-year-old Spanish girl, who was
struggling to find her way in a world full of indifference and
racial intolerance. One afternoon Shawn walked into her world
and became her protector, her Knight in Shinning Amour. As
their friendship unfolds and trust begins to emerge, Shawn is
presented with a decision. Her mother is dying of cancer and
asked him to adopt her daughter when she finally passes
away. The inter-cultural differences, the complexities of life at
the ranch and his undying love for this child present a far
different challenge for this man who buried his emotions a
long time ago.
Much as a complex mathematical problem, there are several
solutions that begin to unfold, the father & daughter
relationship blossoms, they become inseparable until Sandra
leaves for college. Struggling to accept the loneliness left in
his soul, he befriends another young child who lives in silence
and she becomes his hope for a better tomorrow.
The result is a loving family was formed out of tolerance,
respect and acceptance, with tender and emotional moments
centered around the sanctuary, how three humans finally
understood what these big creatures new from the beginning
– the power of a soft voice and a gentle touch can indeed,
work miracles.
Unsettled Mirrors is a rare bird, a break through in traditional
thinking, for it over comes racial indifferences and cultural
boundaries to lay the foundation for acceptance and the final
years of the life of Shawn McVeigh, a life now filled with the
love and devotion of three young women he affectionately
calls - his daughters. What a wonderful world this is when all
your dreams come true. This novel is complete at 83,597
words.
"Here's Looking at you kid"
His Name is Wulfegang
