by Stacy Gregg
It made Issie nervous to see that the ambulance van, which was always present at events like this one, had parked itself at the top of the gully next to the fallen tree. “They must be expecting some crashes here.” She nudged Dan and pointed towards the white van. He nodded in agreement.
“After the hollow, the trick will be calming them down again and getting them back into stride to take the next fence,” Avery explained as he approached the cotton reels.
The cotton reels were a row of huge wooden spools that looked like they might once have been part of a giant’s sewing kit. Issie didn’t know what they had really been used for, but she guessed they were from a construction yard or something. They were big—she knew that much. And the horses would have to jump clean over them.
“Finally, we have the bank,” Avery said, turning his attention to the last fence, a high grassy mound that the horses had to jump up on to, then canter along for two strides before jumping a fence that dropped away dramatically to ground level.
“By now your horses will be dead tired,” Avery continued, “so don’t thrash them by racing for the finish flags. By all means, keep your speed up to try and avoid time faults, but don’t exhaust your mounts. Remember, there’s still the showjumping to come after this.”
Back at the horse truck Issie took out Avery’s prized flat-seat saddle and began to tack Blaze up in preparation for the cross-country. The mare knew that today was special somehow. The sight of the horse floats and trucks and the noise of the loud speaker had her keyed up and she danced as Issie tried to do up her girth.
“Easy girl, you’ll get the chance to show them how good you are any minute now,” Issie whispered to her horse.
She swung herself into the saddle and was adjusting the competition number attached to her back protector when Stella rode over to see her.
“I was just down at the judges tent and it looks like Natasha has gone clear on the cross-country. No faults! Can you believe it? You’ll have to get a clear round now if you want to keep up.”
“Thanks heaps,” Issie groaned, “that’s just what I need, Stella—more pressure. I’m nervous enough as it is.”
“Competitor number thirty-eight please, number thirty-eight.” Issie looked down at the number on her chest. “That’s me. Wish me luck,” Issie said. But she was too nervous to hear Stella’s reply.
“Are you ready? Lining up now…five, four, three, two, one…go!” The starter’s gun sounded and Issie felt the chestnut mare leap out from underneath her and instantly break into a gallop, her long stride devouring the ground. She let Blaze run on until the first fence was in sight, then she eased her back, collecting her into a canter. Blaze gave an indignant snort and popped over the tyres as if they were barely there, moving swiftly back into a gallop again.
Riding crouched over her neck, Issie felt the rush of speed, the power of the horse beneath her. At the ditch, Issie was cautious again and slowed Blaze down, but the mare popped over it with ease.
The next fence was a three-barred gate stuffed with dried brush. Issie heard the thick rasp of the branches scraping against Blaze’s bell boots as they breezed over it. She gave the mare her head and let her gallop on to the next part of the course.
As they tackled fence after fence without missing a stride Issie’s confidence grew. Not only was Blaze’s leg completely healed, the horse seemed to thrill at the chance to run. So much so that it was tempting to let her have her head as they approached the gully Still, Issie remembered Avery’s advice and pulled hard on the reins, easing Blaze back to a steady trot so that she had time to get a good look at the fence.
They were still a good few strides out from the jump when Blaze spooked. Issie lost a stirrup and was nearly thrown out of the saddle as her horse lurched suddenly to the left.
“Come on, girl, what’s wrong?” Issie kicked her on, hauling on the right rein at the same time to get Blaze back on track. But it was no use. Blaze was in a state, highly-strung and confused, not listening to Issie’s aids. The mare trotted up skittishly towards the jump, then spooked again at the last minute and came to a dead stop.
Issie couldn’t believe it. A refusal would cost them twenty faults! Not only that, but now Blaze was standing there in front of the jump all wild-eyed and trembling with fear. What on earth was wrong with her?
As she tried to calm her horse, Issie’s mind began to race. Why was Blaze so terrified? It wasn’t the fence, she was sure of that. Blaze had taken jumps just like this one before without any trouble. No, she decided. Something else had scared her horse—and it was still spooking her now. And if Issie didn’t figure it out quickly her chances of winning the one-day event were doomed.
CHAPTER 16
As Blaze stood trembling in front of the fence, Issie looked up at the white ambulance van parked at the top of the ditch and suddenly everything clicked into place.
It was a white van. A van just like the one the men had used when they had tried to steal Blaze. Of course! It wasn’t the fence that had spooked the horse but her fear of the white van that had made her refuse the jump.
Issie circled her horse away from the fallen tree now, talking softly to her, “It’s OK, Blaze, no one’s going to hurt you.” She spoke calmly and gently.
Issie knew that normally when a horse is afraid of something the best thing to do is confront their fear. If she gave Blaze the chance to check the van out thoroughly, eventually she would no longer be afraid of it. But right now there was no time for that solution.
Instead, Issie turned to take the fence again, this time aiming her horse at a sharp angle, so that she was facing away from the van.
Approaching the jump on the diagonal wasn’t easy, and it also meant taking Blaze down the slipperiest part of the slope, but Issie knew it was the only way.
With the white ambulance out of her line of sight, Blaze was a different horse. She leapt easily over the fallen tree and powered down the hill, over the oil drums and up and out the other side over the post and rails. “Good girl.” Issie gave her a firm slap on her sweaty neck.
Blaze was back in good spirits, all memories of the white van were put behind her. Now there were only two fences to go.
At the cotton reels, she flew over the jump with almost half a metre to spare and it was all that Issie could do to slow her down in time to take the grassy bank.
Riding up the bank, Issie tried to remember to sit well back in the saddle, then lean back as Blaze leapt off into midair to land on the ground below.
And then they were racing, Issie leaning low over Blaze’s neck and pushing her home through the finish flags.
“Oh, well done, girl, well done!” Issie was thrilled. Blaze’s fright at the sight of the white van had cost them dearly. Twenty faults for a refusal. But they had been going so fast around the course they had no time penalties in spite of their delay at the gully. And with the showjumping still to come, maybe they stood a chance of a ribbon—if they could make it a clear round.
As the totals went up on the scoreboard for the crosscountry Issie was amazed. It looked like hardly any of the other riders had managed a clear round either. Even with twenty faults, her chances of a ribbon looked good. In fact she was still in second place—only Natasha had gone clear on the cross-country to stay sahead of her. Poor Stella had had three refusals at the cotton reels and had retired on Coco. She was too depressed to come with Issie to check out the scores and was back at the horse truck giving Coco a good brush down before rugging her up. Her disastrous cross-country meant that she wouldn’t be riding in the showjumping.
The first competitors for the showjumping phase were beginning to warm up now, and it wouldn’t be long until they entered the ring. Issie looked across at the showjumps and saw Natasha leaning up against the rails, waiting to see how the other competitors tackled the course before she too began to warm up.
The sight of Natasha filled Issie with dread. She wanted to hide—to duck out of sight behind the horse floats and avoid h
er. But then she remembered what Dan had said about Natasha not being mean really, just lonely. So she decided to do the grown-up thing and go over and say hi.
“Hey there, Natasha.” Issie smiled. “It looks like you and Goldrush have been having a good day; you’ve got the top score so far.”
Natasha turned around and gave Issie a snooty look. “I’m sorry? Do I know you?” she said vaguely acting like she had never met Issie before. Her lips curled up in a wicked smile. “Oh yeeesss,” she purred, giving Issie the once-over as if she were being asked to give her points out of ten for her appearance. “You’re that girl from the pony club, aren’t you? The one with the scruffy chestnut. What are you doing here?”
Issie couldn’t believe it. Why was she even bothering with this snob? Keep calm, she told herself. Remember, she’s only trying to be mean because she feels insecure. Remember she’s new in town and she has no friends.
“I’m riding actually,” Issie said, trying to keep her smile fixed to her face. “In fact, I’m coming second to you. We had a little problem on the cross-country. Blaze got spooked at the top of the gully and we had a refusal and got twenty faults.”
“Mmmm?” said Natasha. She clearly couldn’t be bothered talking to Issie at all and was looking away now to watch the next competitor enter the ring. “Well, sounds like you need to get a decent horse, don’t you? Or maybe some riding lessons.”
And with that, she turned back to watch the showjumping, leaving Issie standing with her mouth hanging wide open.
“I mean, just because her mother buys her some flash horse doesn’t make her such a great rider!” Issie fumed to Stella. The pair of them were back at the horse truck now and Issie was tacking up for the showjumping.
“A decent horse? And she called Blaze scruffy. Scruffy! She’s got such a nerve! I should have told her that Blaze was actually part Arab and she’s probably worth more than she paid for silly old Goldrush anyway. Oh, who cares! She doesn’t even really like horses, you know. And no wonder she doesn’t have any friends. I should never have listened to Dan. I don’t know how he can even put up with her for a minute!”
“Issie, Issie calm down.” Stella laughed. “It’s nearly your turn for the showjumping. Shouldn’t you be taking Blaze over a few practice jumps instead of worrying about Stuck-up Tucker?” Stella glanced across at the show ring. “Hey,” she said to Issie, “wait a minute. It’s Natasha’s turn now.”
“She hasn’t knocked down four rails, has she?” Issie was sulking, refusing to look. “Because that’s how many points she needs to lose before I’ll beat her.”
“Umm, no…but…” Stella said. “Oh, oh wait a minute. Ohmygod!”
“What? What is it? What’s happening?” Issie had completely forgotten about her sulk and stopped what she was doing to join Stella.
In the showjumping ring, Natasha was far from her usual smug self. Goldrush had refused at the green gate twice now, and as she turned her a third time to face the fence, giving her a thwack across the rump with her crop, the palomino reared up, promptly dumping Natasha on the ground.
“You brute!” Natasha screamed, still hanging on to the reins with one hand and making a lunge across the ground to pick up the riding crop with the other.
Goldrush backed away from her, snorting with fear, but Natasha hung on to her and, with the crop in her fist, she raised her hand high above Goldrush’s head and prepared to bring the whip down. “That’s the last time you do that to me, you useless animal!” Natasha cried as she brought the whip down hard.
But before the riding crop could connect with its target, a large hand was wrapped around Natasha’s arm, holding her back. “And that’s the last time you hit a horse, young lady. You’re disqualified,” Tom Avery said. “Now come with me to the judges’ tent. I’m sure they’d like to discuss this bad-tempered performance with you in person.”
“Competitor number thirty-eight into the ring please,” the announcer’s voice came over the loud speaker. At the far end of the practice paddock Issie popped Blaze one last time over the practice jump and then cantered towards the gate.
With Natasha out of the competition, Issie was in the lead, but there was no room for even a single mistake. Knocking down just one rail would lose her five points and drop her back all the way to third place. Two rails would cost her ten points and she’d lose out on a ribbon entirely. No, it had to be a clear round or nothing.
At fence one it looked like it was going to be nothing! Forgetting Avery’s constant advice to remember to ride at the first fence seriously she approached the jump far too slow, not really concentrating on it, and Blaze almost baulked. Luckily the fence wasn’t huge and the chestnut mare was so honest she took the jump anyway, leaping like a jack rabbit almost from a standstill, flinging Issie back in the saddle.
The fright at fence one woke Issie’s ideas up. She collected Blaze up into a bouncy canter and rode hard at the second fence, clearing it perfectly. Then came a double with a bounce stride, and Issie had to check Blaze hard to slow her down so she wouldn’t rush the fences.
With a clear round so far and only two fences to go, Issie was sick with nerves as they approached the green gate where Goldrush had been eliminated. The gate was the biggest fence on the course. There were two slender potted conifers standing on either side of it and the jump was so tall it was almost as big as the trees themselves. It had to be nearly one metre twenty, Issie decided. It was almost the biggest fence she had ever faced.
“Still not as high as that gate between the River Paddocks though, eh, girl?” Issie murmured to Blaze. She tightened her grip on the reins, sat back hard in the saddle and pushed the chestnut mare on. Blaze flew over the jump, flicking her heels up beautifully so that she didn’t even touch the poles. Then over the last fence and through the finish flags. A clear round.
“Oh, Issie, you did it!” Stella came racing up as Issie emerged from the ring. “Wasn’t Blaze fantastic? Just the best!” Stella was bubbling with excitement. She took Blaze by the reins and led the mare back towards the truck as Issie walked alongside them, still feeling a little stunned by her own success.
“Well, well. Who would have thought that my groom would be such a star?” Issie turned around to see Dan smiling at her. “Seriously, Issie, congratulations. It was a brilliant bit of riding…” he said. He was about to say something more when Issie heard her name being shouted out across the field.
“Isadora! Isadora!” Issie’s mum had her hands full with a tea thermos, an umbrella and a blanket, most of which got dropped on the grass as she ran up to her daughter.
“Oh, well done, sweetheart!” she said, letting everything in her arms tumble to the ground now as she embraced Issie in a huge bear hug.
“And well done, Blaze!” Mrs Brown said, and she reached out a careful hand to give the mare a tender pat on the nose.
“Mum!” Issie was shocked. “I thought you didn’t like horses?”
Mrs Brown looked her daughter in the eyes. “Oh, Issie, I still don’t like horses. When I think of all the danger that you’ve been through over the past few months…” she sighed. “But I know that you love them,” she turned to the little chestnut, “so I guess that means Blaze and I are going to have to be friends, aren’t we, girl?”
She stepped forward to give the horse another nervous pat and Blaze, eagerly anticipating that she might be in for a treat, gave Mrs Brown a vigorous, snuffly nudge with her nose. Issie’s mum jumped back with a shriek and everyone else burst out laughing.
“She just wants a carrot, Mrs B—I think she likes you!” Dan was smirking.
“Well,” said Mrs Brown, smiling back now, “I guess after today’s performance she deserves one. Now hurry up and get back on,” she told her daughter. “You don’t want to be late for the prize-giving, do you?”
Blaze was still wearing her winner’s ribbon when Issie unloaded her from the horse truck back at the River Paddock later that evening. The deep red satin sash was knotted around
her neck, with its gold fringing dangling down.
“You look like a proper Arab now, all dressed up with gold fringes,” Issie teased the mare. But there was some truth in what she said. Blaze didn’t even resemble the sickly pony that Issie had adopted three months ago. This was a horse in her prime and her fine bloodlines were finally in full evidence, from the high arch of her graceful neck to the soft dish of her face with its pure white blaze.
“You’re so beautiful, I can hardly believe you’re mine,” Issie whispered into Blaze’s neck as she gave her a hug, undoing the sash at the same time and shoving it into the pocket of her riding jacket.
“Pretty exciting, eh? Winning your first one-day event?” Avery’s voice behind her startled her.
“I guess so,” Issie said, “but after all we’ve been through in the past few weeks I think I’ve had enough excitement. Mostly I’m just glad that Blaze is OK.”
Avery ran his hand down the mare’s hind leg. “That wound seems to be completely healed. You probably won’t even be able to see the scar, Issie.”
He looked back up at his star pupil.
“That night of the horse thieves, there’s something I’m still puzzled about,” Avery said. “I know you told your mother that you had cycled to my house. But I’m sure I didn’t see your bike in my driveway. Besides, how did you know they were going to try to steal Blaze in the first place? Issie, do you want to explain to me what really happened that night?”
Issie smiled. “I’ve been going over and over it in my mind, and no, I can’t explain it. At least not yet. I’m not even really sure I understand it myself.”
Avery nodded, “Well, if you ever want someone to talk to, give me a try. I bet you’ll find me more understanding than you think.”
After Avery had loaded off the other horses, he backed the truck out the gate and left Issie alone in the paddock with Blaze.