Liberty and the Dream Ride

by Stacy Gregg

  “It was a great test, Mike,” Betsy Bevan said. “For a first-time effort she has to be happy with that.”

  “I’m no judge by any means, Betsy,” Mike added, “but I’m betting that this puts her in the top ten – what a fabulous effort!”

  As Issie and Comet rode out of the arena the crowd erupted in applause. It had been a fantastic dressage test, the best that Comet had ever done, and Issie looked thrilled to bits as Avery and Stella met her in the collection ring at the far side of the grandstands.

  “Brilliant! Brilliant! Brilliant!” Avery gave her a round of applause.

  “Comet, you are such a star!” Stella took the skewbald’s reins. “You are totally getting extra barley in your hard feed tonight!”

  “Oh man, I am exhausted after that!” Issie took off her silk top hat and slid down out of the saddle. She gave a grunt of pain as her feet hit the ground. Her face suddenly turned pale and she made a grab at her ribs.

  “Are you OK?” Avery asked.

  “I’m fine,” Issie said unconvincingly.

  What nobody in the crowded stands at the Kentucky Horsepark realised was that underneath her dressage jacket Issie was bruised the colour of an aubergine.

  When she had fallen into the ditch yesterday her protective cross-country air jacket had inflated instantly on impact and puffed up round her torso like the airbags of a car. It had prevented her spine from suffering serious injury, but it still hadn’t been enough to cushion her completely.

  Issie had insisted to Avery and Tara that she was OK, although the truth was that she suspected one of her ribs might be cracked. But what was the point in mentioning it? There was no treatment apart from a few bandages for cracked ribs. The bones would eventually heal themselves. She had told Stella about it – well, actually Stella had caught sight of the bruises when they were getting ready for bed last night, so she had no choice. But Issie made her friend promise not to tell Avery. He would only worry about her – he might even make her withdraw from the competition and there was no way she was doing that.

  The fall had been a bad moment in the training session on Liberty. Avery, however, had been insistent that Issie’s failure to get the mare over the jump wasn’t a portent of doom. “It’s always strange schooling a horse over cross-country fences in cold blood. It’s a totally different story to riding the real thing,” he said, reassuring her. “When your blood is up and Liberty is feeling psyched then the extra adrenalin will kick in and that will change everything.”

  There was no point in worrying about the cross-country now – she had to get Liberty through the dressage phase first. The mare was due to perform in the arena in an hour. Issie would have to get onboard soon and begin warming up for her test.

  “How are you feeling?” Stella asked as she came to take Comet back to his stall.

  “I’m good,” Issie said.

  “No, really,” Stella looked concerned. “Do your ribs hurt?”

  “Only when I breathe or move,” Issie replied.

  “Maybe you should tell Avery,” Stella said. “It’s too much riding both of them in your condition.”

  “No,” Issie shook her head, “I can’t quit, I promised Marcus I’d ride her. It’s too late to back out now.”

  In the practice arena Issie let Liberty have a long rein at first, encouraging the mare to stretch her neck and relax. She was the opposite of Comet and needed to be treated so differently to get the best out of her. Issie was able to gather Comet up almost straight away into a trot when she was warming him up, but with Liberty she kept the mare in a walk for ages, talking to her softly as she rode, trying to calm and relax her before finally shortening up the reins ready to trot.

  It was a painfully slow way to warm up, but it worked. By the time Issie asked Liberty to trot on, the mare was no longer acting like she was walking on hot coals. As Issie collected her up and began to do the more advanced manoeuvres, Liberty responded beautifully. Marcus was right, she was an extremely sensitive and schooled mare. The problem was that she was almost too well schooled and if you put one foot or hand in the wrong place Liberty might misread your instructions and suddenly you’d be doing a pirouette!

  Avery watched as Issie worked the horse in, offer ing the odd comment to help out. Then, when the moment of truth drew near, he headed over to Issie and gestured at the clock above the warm-up arena.

  “Time to go,” he said. “You’re due in the main arena.”

  Issie nodded. “We’re ready, Tom.”

  As Issie rode Liberty towards the main arena, with Avery striding along at their side, Stella came running up to them.

  “Comet’s dressage scores have been posted!” Stella panted. “Issie, you got thirty-six!”

  Issie was gobsmacked. Thirty-six was the best score she’d ever had in her life! In three-day eventing the scoring system worked backwards, which meant that the lowest dressage score was the winning score, and thirty-six was super-low. It might even put her in the top ten!

  “I just thought you’d like to know before you went back in there with Liberty,” Stella beamed up at her. “Good luck!”

  The news of Comet’s amazing score was just the confidence booster that Issie needed. As she headed back into the main arena to complete her second dressage test of the day she suddenly found herself sitting up a little bit straighter and prouder in the saddle. She had aced this once – now all she had to do was make the right moves once again on Liberty.

  “She’s back, ladies and gentlemen,” Mike Partridge announced gaily over the Tannoy. “You’ve already seen this young girl put in a fabulous test on The Pony. Now here she is, on a chance ride that she only got handed yesterday, this amazing silver dapple mare from the Valmont Stables in California. This is Isadora Brown, back in the arena once more on Valmont Liberty!”

  As she cantered up the centre line, Issie knew she was on a hair trigger with this horse. Riding Liberty was like being perched on a volcano and any little thing might set her off. Issie had to handle her absolutely perfectly or it would be a disaster.

  As she made her salute for the second time that day, the crowd was hushed and reverent, saving their applause until she finished the test so that they wouldn’t upset the horse. Even Mike Partridge seemed to understand that this mare was a potential time bomb, and was whispering his comments over the loudspeaker.

  “A magnificent entrance,” he said. “A lovely extended trot, and look at those paces!”

  As Issie trotted up the far side of the arena she was completely focused on keeping Liberty in a perfect extended trot. The mare was round and supple, they were a perfect team. And then suddenly it all fell apart.

  This was a world-class, Four-Star event so there were cameramen positioned at the far end of the arena filming the competitors with a massive camera mounted on a tall mobile crane. Liberty hadn’t noticed the cameramen before, but as the crane began to move, the mare suddenly spotted it and gave a massive spook! She bounded sideways into the middle of the arena and it took all of Issie’s skill, strength and determination to force the quivering, terrified Liberty back to where she was supposed to be.

  “Bad luck!” Betsy Bevan commiserated from the announcers’ booth. “Liberty has shied at the TV cameras. Let’s hope this untested combination can remain on track for the rest of the dressage test.”

  In the arena, Issie was trying to refocus. She’d completely blown her points on that particular manoeuvre – but a dressage test was always judged as a series of separate movements. Just because the mare had wigged out for one movement didn’t mean they couldn’t still pull themselves together and continue on to get a good score. Issie had to keep Liberty calm. They had reached the next marker now and Issie had regained her composure. She confidently asked the mare to move into her one-time canter changes and Liberty responded on cue, doing the movements perfectly.

  There was a moment when they came up the centre line once more to perform the pirouettes and Liberty once again saw the TV cameras ahead
of her. Issie sensed the mare’s apprehension and spoke softly to reassure Liberty that the camera wasn’t going to eat her. The mare seemed to understand. She didn’t spook as they rode past the camera this time. After that, the rest of the test was a breeze. Issie continued to ride the silver dapple mare so pitch-perfectly that Liberty never had a reason to go wrong. As they came back up the centre line one final time for their salute to the judges the crowd held their breath, breaking into deafening applause as Issie and Liberty left the ring.

  “Disaster at first, but what a remarkable recovery!” Mike Partridge enthused. “What a crowd favourite this seventeen-year-old girl is proving to be!”

  Issie had never been so relieved to finish a test! As she rode out of the main arena she saw Tara and Marcus waiting for her in the wings with smiles on their faces.

  “I’m really sorry,” Issie said as she joined them. “I never even considered that she might shy at the cameras.”

  “There was nothing you could have done about it,” Tara reassured her. “The great thing is that you didn’t lose your cool when it happened and you finished with a great test!”

  “Miss Brown!”

  Issie looked up and saw Tyrel Valmont walking briskly towards her.

  “Good work,” Valmont said. “Unfortunate camera incident, but you rode the mare well.”

  “Thank you, Mr Valmont,” Issie didn’t know what to say. “It’s down to Marcus really. He’s got Liberty so well schooled that all I had to do was press the right buttons.”

  “I wouldn’t be too hasty to give someone else the credit,” Valmont said gruffly. “It was good riding on your part. I’m sure you’ll give it everything you’ve got on the cross-country course tomorrow.”

  He looked over at Marcus who had taken Liberty’s reins and was about to lead the mare back to her box.

  “You can’t handle her with your arm in a cast. Here – I’ll take her back to the stall,” he said grumpily, taking Liberty from Marcus.

  Valmont headed off, leading Liberty towards the stables, but he had only gone a little way when he stopped abruptly and began to search his pockets.

  “Lost something, sir?” Marcus asked.

  “I don’t seem to have my passcard for the stall on me,” Valmont said. “I must have misplaced it…” He patted the pockets of his suit jacket.

  Marcus dug into his jeans pocket and handed over his own green card. “Here,” he said. “You can take mine.”

  Issie couldn’t help remembering the green passcard she had found on the ground that night when the intruder got away. Had Valmont dropped his card in the dark that night? But why would he be lurking around his own horse?

  It didn’t make sense. Mind you, Issie thought, a lot of things about Valmont didn’t make sense. OK, Marcus was injured, but since when did the super-rich head of the stables take it upon himself to volunteer to do a groom’s job and put the horse away in its box?

  As she watched Valmont lead Liberty away, she heard her name being called. She turned round and saw Tom Avery hurrying over to join them. He had the strangest look on his face.

  “Tom, what is it? Is something wrong?”

  “Issie,” Avery said. “The officials have just posted the final list of scores for the dressage test…”

  “Ohmygod!” Issie bit her lip. “Tom? Where am I?”

  “Issie, it’s brilliant,” Avery said. “Liberty is in eighth place and Comet is fifth!”

  And for the first time ever that Issie could remember, Avery lunged forward and gave her a hug. She felt a shock of pain in her ribs, but she didn’t care because this was one of the best moments in her life.

  “Issie, you’ve got two horses in the top ten!”

  Chapter 11

  Yesterday a plaited and polished Comet had trotted majestically into the arena to perform his dressage test. But today the dainty plaits and elegant dressage saddle were gone. Comet was kitted out in serious cross-country equipment, the full battle armour of martingale, breastplate and grackle noseband with sets of leather tendon boots front and back to protect him from impact as well as a set of white bell boots up front.

  The change in costume hadn’t gone unnoticed by the little skewbald. He knew exactly why he was dressed this way and his eyes were shining with anticipation. Cross-country was the phase of three-day eventing that he truly loved and he couldn’t wait to get on the course.

  In the loose box with him, Issie was also dressed in protective body armour. She wore a high-impact helmet, gloves and her air-tech jacket was rigged so that a fall would set it off instantly. She checked the jacket panels and did up the zips on her leather riding boots while Stella continued to work away on Comet’s legs, applying a thick layer of white grease to the front of his legs, smothering the stifle and knees. The grease was used to help the horse to slide over a fence if he caught it with his legs, and hopefully the slippery substance would also offer a coating of protection to keep him from getting cuts and scrapes on the course.

  Stella stood back and admired her work. The white paste made it look like the skewbald had even more white patches than before. “He’s ready for you,” she said.

  “Just a second,” Issie replied. She had strapped on her stopwatch and was now doing up the tabs on her competition number, which she wore over the air-tech vest.

  “It’s crazy, isn’t it?” Stella said as she handed Issie the reins. “You and me getting ready to ride the Four-Star. I never believed this would really happen.”

  “I know,” Issie agreed. “It seems like just yesterday that we were little kids together at Chevalier Point Pony Club and now here we are riding at Kentucky…”

  “Well,” Stella said, “technically you’re riding at Kentucky – I’m just the girl who’s holding the horse for you.”

  Issie looked at her best friend. “Don’t say that, Stella! You know that I could never have got here without you. You’ve been amazing, and I don’t just mean as my groom: everything you’ve done behind the scenes, schooling the horses and keeping them fit, making sure they are in peak condition. You’ve always been there for me from the very start. I don’t know if I have ever told you how much it means to me…”

  Stella rolled her eyes. “You haven’t won yet you know, Issie! Isn’t it a bit early to be giving your thank-you speech to the academy?”

  Issie laughed. “Did I mention that you’re also incredibly good at bringing me back to earth whenever I’m being a twit?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m the wind beneath your wings!” Stella said as she legged Issie up on to Comet’s back. “Now I put a lot of work into tacking this horse up so you just bring my boy home in one piece, OK? I’m going to be in Liberty’s stall when you get back. I’ll have her ready for you to ride your second clear round of the day.”

  Issie smiled. “Thanks again, Stella. I mean it.”

  “I know you do,” Stella said. “Now go and kick some cross-country ass!”

  “You’ll report to the box at nine ten,” Avery told her as they walked together towards the starting area. “I don’t think you need to warm him up too much before then. Trot a bit to loosen him up and then pop him over a couple of low jumps just to get him thinking…”

  “OK,” Issie nodded. She was trying to listen to Avery’s advice, but she was so nervous that she couldn’t think straight!

  She had just caught sight of one of the stars of the three-day eventing scene, Vaughn Leveritt and his magnificent chestnut, Gravitate, coming home over the final jump in the course – the Bourbon Barrels – to cross the finish line. Vaughn gave his horse a massive pat on his sleek neck as they crossed the line, but Issie could see that he looked disappointed with the ride. She understood why a few seconds later when she heard Betsy Bevan over the loudspeakers saying that Vaughn had incurred 40 faults with two refusals on the course at the Angled Rails and the Arrowheads.

  He wasn’t the only one to come to grief on the course already that morning. Even the more experienced riders were having run-outs and c
rashes. Shane Campbell had been having a brilliant round on his mare, Queen Latifah, until he reached the Squirrel Tails, where Latifah promptly took a dislike to the squirrels that earned them 20 faults.

  “This course is riding much harder than everyone expected it to,” Avery admitted. “The Arrowheads have caused several refusals, so remember to hold your line and aim for the flag in the distance as we discussed. And don’t let him get too fast when he hits the water at the Duck Marsh – sit back and balance him, OK?”

  “Uh-huh.” Issie could feel the butterflies flitting about madly in her tummy now, doing loop-the-loops in formation.

  Avery suddenly patted the pockets of his gilet and looked worried.

  “What is it?” Issie asked.

  Avery checked a second time. “I’ve forgotten my stopwatch,” he said. He looked up at Issie. “You go ahead and take Comet over to the warm-up arena. I’ll just dash back and get it and meet you there.”

  Avery set off at a brisk jog towards the stables and Issie walked on by herself towards the arena. She hadn’t got far when she heard someone calling her name.

  “Isadora!” The chubby figure of Tiggy Brocklebent, decked out in tweeds and jods, came striding vigorously across the field, with a notebook in her hands.

  “I’d like a quick interview before you go out on the course,” Tiggy said.

  Issie hesitated. “I don’t have much time, Tiggy, and I need to warm up.”

  “Oh, it won’t take long!” Tiggy said, pulling out her pen. “Just a few quick questions.”

  Issie sighed. “Fine, go ahead.”

  “Excellent!” Tiggy said. “Now, you’re riding two horses round the course today – will you be taking the same route on both of them?”

  “I am,” Issie said. “I plan to take a direct route straight through the big jumps on Comet and Liberty.”