Amber Marshall’s Real-Life Ranch: A Day Beyond the Heartland Set

You ever wonder what it’s like to juggle farm life with filming one of Canada’s longest-running TV shows? Amber Marshall, Heartland’s Amy Fleming, doesn’t just play a horse-loving cowgirl on screen—she lives it. Her days start with muddy boots and end with script notes, and somehow, she makes it all feel like one seamless rhythm. Let’s walk through a day with her, out on her Alberta farm and beyond.

Morning Chores with a Side of Joy

No snooze button for Amber. The rooster’s crow is her alarm, and by the time the kettle’s steaming, she’s out the door, coffee in one hand, feed pail in the other. The Alberta grass is still slick with dew as she heads to the hen house. The hens—chatty and impatient—swarm the door as she unlatches it. “The Morans give me those deep, chocolatey-brown eggs,” she says with a grin, “and the Olive Eggers? They’re all about soft greens.” It’s a small thing, collecting those warm eggs, but it’s the kind of quiet joy that sticks with her.

The pond’s next. Butter, the overachieving Khaki Campbell duck, churns through the water like she’s training for the Olympics. Popcorn, the White Call, plays border patrol, waddling the edges. Sweet Pea, the Sweet Grass turkey, glides through like she owns the place. Amber laughs about their breakfast club vibe: “They’ve grown up together, so they just… get each other.” Cleaning the pond is a messy job—scooping, scrubbing, dodging splashes. The ducks dive back in before she’s even done, undoing her work with gleeful chaos. But that’s the deal with animals: they keep you humble.

Bigger Beasts, Bigger Bonds

Beyond the fence, the heavier hitters wait. Ella, an eight-year-old Jersey cow, has a face that demands conversation. Her milk has fueled yogurt experiments and way too many milk-mustache selfies. Rowdy, now a full-grown Jersey bull, sticks close, keeping his little herd in line. This year, they welcomed a Highland calf who needed a home. “The way they just took him in,” Amber says, “it’s kinder than most people I know.” Then there’s Betty, the alpaca with a side hustle as farm security. Her soft hums—think low-key alpaca Morse code—alert Amber to anything from an open gate to a wandering calf. It’s saved her from more than one chase.

The barns are Amber’s sanctuary. Hay from their own fields, stacked neat and square, is a badge of summer’s hard work. Square bales for the horses, round for the cattle—it’s a system that keeps winter predictable. In a cozy milking corner, pails sit idle for now. With two calves nursing Ella and Amber back on set, the twice-daily milking routine is on hold. The farm’s rhythm bends but never breaks.

From Muck to Makeup

By mid-morning, farm chores give way to Heartland’s call. Amber swaps boots for set wardrobe, steps into hair and makeup, and skims her lines with a quick laugh alongside the crew. Filming is its own beast. Take dinner table scenes: “You do the master shot with everyone,” she explains, “then singles, close-ups, and three hours later, you’re still pretending the soup’s hot.” It’s meticulous, the kind of work that looks effortless on screen but takes a small army to pull off. Amber’s knack for slipping into Amy’s skin feels like second nature, maybe because so much of Amy’s world mirrors her own.

Winding Down, Riding Easy

When the day’s shoot wraps, Amber’s back home as the light turns golden. Her six-year-old quarter horse, Cruise, greets her with a flicked ear. The minis, Screech and Talon, demand their sprints around the paddock, while Nitro, her husband’s horse, gets a leisurely lope. “Short rides keep the minis out of trouble and my head clear,” she says. It’s not just exercise—it’s a reset, a moment to breathe.

Inside, she cracks open tomorrow’s script. A scribbled note here, a circled beat there. This is where Amber and Amy blur. “Some days,” she admits, “I don’t know where I stop and Amy starts. And I’m good with that.” It’s not hard to see why: both are grounded, tough, and a little in love with the chaos of their worlds.

Amber Marshall’s life isn’t just a cool behind-the-scenes story—it’s a reminder of what authenticity looks like. She’s not playing a part; she’s living it, from the hen house to the Heartland set. Her days are full, messy, and real, and that’s what makes her Amy so believable. Got a friend who’s obsessed with Heartland? Share this with them. Or better yet, tag someone who still debates that Amy moment from season six. You know the one.