Amber Marshall Reflects on Growing Up With Amy Fleming on Heartland

When Amber Marshall first stepped into Amy Fleming’s boots, she probably didn’t imagine she’d still be wearing them all these years later. And yet here she is. Still riding. Still on the same land. Still telling a story that’s been unfolding for nearly two decades on Heartland.

“Amy’s had a pretty tough life,” she once said, almost casually. She lost her mom in the very first episode. And that kind of loss doesn’t just fade. It sticks with you. It shapes everything.

That feeling has always been at the center of the show. Not the big moments, not the drama — but the quiet weight Amy carries from one episode to the next. After more than 260 episodes, Amber still finds ways to make it feel honest. Like Amy isn’t stuck in time. Like she’s actually living it.

One storyline that really stayed with her was when Amy temporarily lost her sight.

Portraying that fear — the idea that she might never see again — hit hard. Horses are Amy’s whole world. Losing that connection, even briefly, was terrifying. And you can feel it when you watch. Nothing about it was overplayed. Just raw fear and vulnerability, the way Heartland usually handles those moments.

Growing up with Amy Fleming

What makes it even more real is that Amber doesn’t leave that world behind when filming ends.

She goes home to her own ranch. A hundred acres. Horses. Cows. Pigs. A few cats that cause trouble. No city apartment. No switch flipped off at the end of the day.

She’s said doing chores helps her reset. Feeding the animals. Walking the land. Breathing. It’s not something she puts on for interviews — it’s just how she lives.

Her horses aren’t props. They’re family. And sometimes she rides out just for the feeling of it. No cameras. No scripts. Just her and the horse, the way it was long before Heartland ever existed.

She’s also deeply involved behind the scenes now, stepping in as a consulting producer when something doesn’t feel right.

The writers are great, she jokes, but they’re city people. Sometimes she has to stop a scene and say, “That’s not safe,” or “No real trainer would do that.” For her, keeping things authentic — especially for the horses — actually matters.

Even her pony Talon got his moment on screen once, playing a rescue horse. She laughed about trying to make him look underfed. Apparently, he’s not convincing. Loves snacks a little too much.

Over the years, Amy has grown up on screen in a way TV characters usually don’t. Marriage. Motherhood. Loss. Change.

“They’ve let Amy change,” Amber said. And that might be the quiet reason the show still works. Amy isn’t stuck repeating the same version of herself. She matures. She messes up. She keeps learning.

And that’s why Amber keeps coming back.

There’s still more to tell. Amy isn’t done yet.

Amber never set out chasing fame. What she found instead was something steadier. A rhythm that feels right. Meaningful stories. Animals. Open land. A life that doesn’t feel split in two.

At this point, it’s hard to see where Amy Fleming ends and Amber begins.

Maybe that’s the secret. Heartland stopped being just a role a long time ago. It became a life she actually lives.